This shuffle reminds us of the limits of a prime minister’s power, writes Scott Reid,
Cabinet shuffles usually underscore the extent of a prime minister’s power. This particular effort reminds us that there are also limits.
Yes, Stephen Harper bid farewell to a number of ministers who will not be re-offering and made room for a more-than-typical number of newcomers. But the continuing presence of Jim Flaherty as his minister of finance also unleashed a wave of stay-put-ism among the most senior of cabinet posts — finance, trade, natural resources and foreign affairs — that robbed Harper of the ability to execute a truly comprehensive overhaul.
Faced with an unending Senate expenses scandal, a rather listless agenda and two strengthened opposition leaders, Harper’s PMO had signalled that this shuffle would be large and designed to deliver change. When rumours arose that even Flaherty would be caught up in the push for renewal, the prime minister’s palace guard notably opted to not tap down such talk. Some even suggested they were at its source. (One wonders if such indiscipline would have occurred if Nigel Wright was still on the job.)
One problem: Flaherty didn’t want to leave. And he certainly didn’t appreciate loose talk that health issues might rob him of the ability to see through his balanced budget pledge.
Of course, Harper could have forced out his finance minister. But he didn’t. Because, as powerful as prime ministers are, political realities remain. A messy breakup with his chief economic lieutenant might have caused unpleasant internal divisions and created confusion over the government’s most-prized policy priority. Harper wasn’t willing to trade for that kind of trouble.
He also lacked a good alternative. Alone among a prime minister’s cabinet picks, the choice of a finance minister can move markets. Would Bay Street have preferred Tony Clement with his gazilliondollar gazebo baggage? Would the elevation of sure-footed Rob Nicholson been worth the grief of pushing out Flaherty? All for the sake of being able to lay an uncluttered claim to a message of change?
Stephen Harper decided no. He might have once preferred a more sweeping fix. But that instinct collided with practical considerations such as a powerful finance minister who wanted to remain in place.
The real mystery is why the PMO didn’t adjust its message to better condition expectations. They could have long ago taken Flaherty off the board by quietly signalling he would remain at finance. Instead, they rather shabbily let his fate dangle and created doubts as to whether this government was prioritizing renewal or stability. Then, on the day of the shuffle, they tried to square the circle by selecting both messages — experience and change — as their lead talking point. It didn’t work.
On the one hand, we were told, the shuffle demonstrates the government’s commitment to continuity, particularly in the prosecution of its economic agenda. On the other, it represents an impressive injection of new blood — creating a younger and better balanced cabinet. Can you spot the contradiction?
Harper also opted to blatantly eschew change on at least one other front — the tone that he and his front bench strike in addressing both their opponents and the public. Throughout his time as prime minister, Harper has embodied a hard-edged, take-no-prisoners attitude that rubs wrong with many voters. During the past few months — particularly in defence of the Duffy/Wright affair — such stridency has begun to backfire in the eyes of many. But not, apparently, in the view of Stephen Harper.
In this respect, Monday’s shuffle represented the unqualified triumph of Team Talking Points. From Shelly Glover to Michelle Rempel to Chris Alexander (all of whom are deserving and talented), Harper rewarded those who displayed a talent for parroting the party line.
No better illustration of this exists than the promotion of Ottawa’s Pierre Poilievre, a man the PMO can always count on to say anything, no matter how abrasive. Only scant weeks ago he praised Mike Duffy for showing “leadership” and hailed the good senator from Kanata as “honourable.” For that — and countless other unlikable excesses — Poilievre now finds himself in cabinet.
What clearer signal could Harper send that he has no intention of moderating the nastiness that a rising number of Canadians associate with his government? Putting the rabidly partisan Poilievre in charge of democratic reform is like asking Pam Wallin to lead a royal commission into air travel. Ridiculous.
In truth, this shuffle will do little to halt the decaying political orbit of this government. The team may be new. Certainly, it is younger. It might even be stronger. But with no change in tone or among the most powerful ministries, the prospects for improving public opinion are dim. If anything, the shuffle reminds us that even majority prime ministers operate within limits, both imposed and self-inflicted.
That’s something to keep in mind as the hype about the Speech from the Throne begins to rise to inevitable heights.