Every great leader needs a touch of populism

Isuppose no one will challenge the observation that the best account of populism was given by the most eloquent of presidents. Lincoln’s famous elegy at Gettysburg, which every high school student should learn by heart, contains in its concluding sentence the unforgettable prepositional triplet of “government of the people, for the people, by the people.”

Was Lincoln a populist? I do not think, from these words or the record of his life, it can be argued otherwise.

An ancient maxim houses the same wisdom. “Vox populi, Vox dei” remains as a reminder of the primacy of the people’s voice. The maxim and Lincoln’s words are there to remind us that it is only lately that populism carries such a harsh cast in people’s minds. Which is a curious development in our modern democracies, since by definition and etymology both, democracies are, as Lincoln had it, rule of, for, and by the people.

In our own country there are stagy rhetorical questions being posed almost daily hinged on whether tranquil middle-ground Canada is vulnerable or susceptible to the winds of populism blowing through Europe and America. Is Canada the site of the next populist fever?, is the always nervous inquiry.

Worry on this point trivial or contrived.

We have had experiences in Canada where assuredly populist governments offer demonstrated merit and well-grounded appeal. Recall the vibrant tenure of the late Ralph Klein.

Klein may not have been the — let us say — tidiest premier, but there was much in the Klein style, the authentic connection between him and his citizens, that made government real for people. That gave them to believe government existed for them — a rare and healthy attitude these or any other days.

Any leader that earns and enjoys a real connection with what we journalists unfailingly call “ordinary people” is a boon to democracy. In a time of deep cynicism about politics, a time when those who rule are seen and felt to be remote from their citizens, untouched is either by the tensions and burdens of everyday folks, a leader who — with the mysterious charisma that governs these things — owns an emotional identification of how the majority of citizens live, does much to shore up our democracies. Populism is just a short tag for another great rule of politics: never forget who put you there (meaning, in office).

Klein’s populism was, mainly, a positive phenomenon. In quite the most literal sense he “represented” those he … represented. People saw very much of themselves in Klein.

He knew them; they knew him. Long ago in my own province, Joey Smallwood, before he fell in his later years into a demeaning rapture of self-worship, had this great gift. He knew the fisherman, the plant worker, the miner, and housewife. He knew the outports, the mayors and deputy mayors. He was, certainly in the great Confederation debates of the late 1940s, the “people’s man” and without that emblematic status, it is doubtful whether Canada would be the 10-province reality it is today. (And what a diminishment that would be.)

Not even a short discussion of populism can pass over the late and lamented Rob Ford. Despite the turbulence of his incumbency, his many acknowledged and painful flaws, Ford in office actively sought to reach those at the lower ends of wealth or opportunity, to assure them that they counted as much as the “big boys,” that he genuinely kept their interests first in his heart and head.

His supporters held an unbreakable sense that he was one of them, that he knew their world, that he liked them. For those who scorned him he was a blight on worthy Toronto. Actually, the lines of trust and hope Ford extended to those outside high status and secure position worked to repair, in however limited a manner, that distrust of politics which is now so universal. Some touch of populism is actually a life-saver for modern politics.

Of course when populism is invoked now as something to be dreaded or feared, as an off ramp to imminent fascism, the word is inevitably yoked to Donald Trump. It is even a brand: Trumpstyle populism. However Trump is not a classic populist. He is, at best, a singular, and I would suggest unrepeatable phenomenon, the product of a particular crisis in American governance. He is an outcome, not a cause.

A system, American democracy, which has over time become the property of a class — credentialed, secure, highly but narrowly educated and financially insulated from all conceivable want — has “owned” politics for so long that the demos, the people, no longer feel connection with their governors. Or trust them. Out of that discontent the people opted for a wild card, Donald Trump, and found, perhaps to their astonishment, that a New York tycoon, of flamboyant style and erratic manners, had more than a touch of the common man. That’s the one element of Trump’s rise that may be called populist. And far from being something to dread, it contains lessons to be learned.

Populism is not a synonym for demagoguery, nor is it a step ladder to authoritarianism, or a shortcut (this is delusional) to fascism, as the more fevered of the Trumpophobics seem to believe. A strain of populism is good for all governments, and I would suggest that in any effective politician there has to be a touch of Ralph Klein’s instinctive affinity for the little guy, and Rob Ford’s occasionally wild but always ardent determination not to forget the people who elected him. While in office, Toronto Mayor Rob Ford appealed to supporters who felt that he was one of them.