Trudeau and UN — what the heck was that about?
Do you know what makes Canada stand out at this year’s (UN Security Council) elections?” Canada’s Foreign Policy Twitter account asked on Tuesday. The choices were “diversity and inclusion,” “economic security” and “COVID-19 leadership.” The correct answer was “all of the above.” Let’s dive in.
It’s not entirely clear what “economic security” means. By global standards, most Canadians are certainly economically secure … but we were up against Norway and Ireland for the seat, not the globe. According to OECD statistics, the Irish and Norwegians are roughly 25 and 60 per cent richer than Canadians in terms of gross national income per capita adjusted for purchasing power. Both countries have lower rates of relative poverty and income inequality.
Certainly Canada is uncommonly diverse and inclusive. What that has to do with deciding whether to authorize invading Libya is, again, not entirely clear.
COVID-19 leadership? Federal officials have failed to lead the country, let alone the world.
The government’s official candidacy page added a few other points ostensibly in our favour. “Together,” it avers, “we can work to address the grave security risks posed by climate change.” Goodness knows we need the help. Norway ranks 12th on Germanwatch’s Climate Change Performance Index. Ireland ranks 41st. Canada is chasing Kazakhstan for 54th.
Canada’s pitch promised to “strengthen multilateralism,” noting that Canada is the ninth-largest contributor to the UN peacekeeping budget. That’s nice of us, but per capita, Ireland contributes slightly more and Norway twice as much.
It all had more than a whiff of desperation to it, and understandably so — because the things a Liberal
Canadian prime minister would normally boast about in pursuit of a Security Council seat simply weren’t available to Justin Trudeau: chiefly peacekeeping — doing it, not just cutting cheques — and foreign aid.
“We are determined to revitalize Canada’s historic role as a key contributor to United Nations peacekeeping,” Trudeau said in March 2016, announcing Canada’s bid. “And Canada will increase its engagement with peace operations not just by making available our military, police and specialized expertise, but also by supporting the civilian institutions and civil society that help prevent conflict, bring stability to fragile states and help societies recover in the aftermath of crises.”
The sum total of that determination: 150 or so Canadians deployed to Mali for a year, by all accounts acquitting themselves well. The government rejected entreaties for them to stay longer. Almost all of them came home. Fin.
When then prime minister Stephen Harper made his pitch for a Security Council seat at the UN General Assembly in September 2010, there were 200 Canadians participating in peacekeeping operations — the majority in Haiti, Sudan and the Democratic Republic of Congo. That’s not many by historical or global standards: Germany and Portugal, which won the two available seats, had more in the field, just as Norway and Ireland have more than Canada today. But Harper had nearly six times as many peacekeepers as Trudeau to boast about — and boast he did.
As for foreign aid, Trudeau can claim to have boosted spending by roughly 10 per cent since taking office. But in terms of aid spending as a percentage of gross national income, Ireland bests Canada by 15 per cent and Norway beats us by 275 per cent.
It is objectively weird that a prime minister so demonstrably obsessed with winning this seat, who has few if any qualms about borrowing and spending money, would do hardly any of the things he seems to consider necessary to win it — even as experts became more and more convinced we weren’t on track to win. It is far from the only objectively weird thing Trudeau or his government has done, but it might be the weirdest.
Canada’s foreign policy in recent decades has been largely performative no matter who’s in power. Harper’s stated dedication to Canada punching above its weight, to principled military engagement with our allies, to defending Arctic sovereignty, vastly outstripped his government’s tangible efforts on the file: actually buying icebreakers or fighter jets, say, or fixing military procurement such that buying the right stuff is more important than buying the right votes. But Harper’s pursuit of the Security Council seat wasn’t half as intense as Trudeau’s, and really didn’t make much sense to begin with. Clearly and properly suspicious of the UN as an institution, he got up and made a standard Canadian soft-power pitch that Jean Chrétien would have been perfectly comfortable delivering.
The main question in the aftermath of Harper’s loss was, “why did he even bother?” The main question in the aftermath of Trudeau’s loss is, “why didn’t he?” If flattery and boasting alone could win a Security Council seat — and perhaps sometimes it can — it’s understandable prime ministers would want to give it a go: A badge of honour is much cheaper than actually making a difference in the world. But if the UN is finally done drinking our Kool-aid, perhaps it’s finally time to decide whether we actually do want to make that difference, instead of just wallowing in unearned praise. All evidence suggests not.