TRUDEAU’S CHARM AT WORK IN SCOTLAND.
Justin Trudeau attempted a Scottish accent as he accepted an honorary degree at the University of Edinburgh Wednesday.
It was one of the best efforts at the dialect by a visiting North American politician in recent times — one that should be heard once, but not more often.
His tale about his Scottish maternal great- grandfather being apprehended by the local constabulary for fishing illegally in the laird’s stream concluded with him quoting family folklore. “If I canna fish, I canna live,” he said.
It’s a curious thing — I don’t recall him lapsing into Newfinese when visiting St. John’s, inquiring: “Ow’s she cuttin’, me cocky?”
But the attempt was not too shabby — better, certainly, than James “Scotty” Doohan: “I canna change the laws of physics, Captain.” Or Mel Gibson: “They can take our lives but they’ ll never take our freedom.”
But then Trudeau comes by it honestly — his maternal grandfather, Jimmy Sinclair, was born in Banffshire, while on his father’s side he is descended from the Elliot family, the most troublesome clan of bandits to ever disgrace the Border country.
It was a classic example of Trudeau’s charm at work on the international stage — “an effortless cool that makes him the most beloved head of state right now,” according to Esquire magazine.
He told students at the convocation ceremony to go out and make the world proud, displaying mastery of the formula that makes the listener feel special and important, improving their mood by arousing positive feelings. It sounds facile but it is a rare talent — not one in 100 politicians has that X ingredient we call charisma.
He also adjusts the way he speaks, depending on the audience, to emphasize the similarity and connection — hence the brave attempt at a brogue.
Trudeau has allied it to a keen political i nstinct that allowed him to stroll through the minefield of Scottish politics unscathed.
He met privately with Scottish First Minister Nicola Sturgeon in New York recently. She has been pushing for a public meeting, aware of the votes to be gained by reflecting in Trudeau’s star wattage, not to mention the implied recognition for her sub-national government.
Just last week, she recorded a 150th birthday online message, highlighting the links between Scotland and Canada.
Yet, Trudeau entered the Scottish capital and had an audience with the Queen at Holyrood Palace in Edinburgh, l iterally a stone’s throw from the Parliament, without even telling the Scottish government he was coming to town.
He understood a meeting with the head of the independence-seeking Scottish National Party would enrage the British government in London, and perhaps cause consternation in Quebec.
It is to be hoped that while he was on the Royal Mile, he read some of the wisdom of a man who is buried there — Adam Smith — who warned that the “man of systems” makes the mistake of thinking he can arrange the pieces of human society “as if they were pieces on a chessboard,” resulting in unintended consequences caused by the imposition of ideas by coercion. Food for thought for the interventionist-inclined prime minister.
Trudeau now heads to Hamburg for the G20 leaders’ summit, where he can expect more plaudits.
Government by photoop can be wearing after a while but foreigners can’t get enough of him, it seems.
It is remarkable that after just 18 months in office, Trudeau is regarded internationally as an experienced world leader — already third in seniority in the G7.
Crucially, he is viewed as an interlocutor between Donald Trump and the rest of the world.
An account in Der Spiegel magazine last month suggested that when German Chancellor Angela Merkel phoned Trudeau to discuss the contents of the joint statement that will emerge from the G20, the prime minister urged her to strike out references to the Paris climate agreement over concerns it might provoke Trump.
Trudeau later denied the story but clarified in his endof- session press conference last week that he “impressed upon her ( Merkel) the importance of making sure we all stood together, including in the communiqué.”
Trudeau has created a niche for himself on the world stage, founded more on a winning personality than Canada’s hard power.
He can empathize with those frustrated by Trump, as he did with the Irish Taoiseach, Leo Varadkar, in Dublin, when he talked about “significant allies and trading partners in the case of the U. S. and U. K. that are turning inward, or at least turning in a different direction.”
At the same time, he has won the support of the erratic U. S. president, who called him last month to say “we’re going to get this done,” in reference to resolving the softwood lumber dispute.
Trudeau’s discipline in becoming friends with a man who doesn’t have a friend in the world has been statesmanlike.
However, as former U. S. secretary of state Dean Acheson once said, “the first requirement of a statesman is that he be dull.”
Trudeau might want to ditch the accents from now on.