Harper’s ‘charm offensive’ is economics
Tories missing opportunities to show PM’S human side
Stephen Harper, it will sadden some to learn, is not an ogre or a troll. Nor are the members of his staff orcs, goblins, hobgoblins or cave wights out of Tolkien. They are all, shockingly, human beings.
Having spent the last week locked up with them cheek by jowl — the staffers that is, not the prime minister, more on that later — in rattletrap buses, dingy hotel basements and in the belly of a flying tank, I can attest that they work very hard. Managing a tour of the Arctic, on a very tight schedule, observed and criticized at all times by a gaggle of touchy, tired, grumpy journalists, can’t be anyone’s idea of fun. Yet I saw Harper’s staff do that, with good nature, resilience and aplomb for the most part.
But for the incident Friday afternoon, in which a Chinese journalist from a state-owned newspaper was prevented from asking a question of the PM and shoved a female staffer, last week’s Arctic tour, Harper’s eighth as prime minister, went off without a hitch, from a Conservative standpoint. He hit all the thematic and policy notes he intended to, appeared in a series of photo ops that reinforced those themes and policies, and avoided any major missteps. Another job done, on to the next.
That said, they — meaning Harper and the Conservatives — could be doing so much better than this. To watch the PM in action, up close, is to see repeated opportunities missed, for reasons that make little sense. Much of this appears to stem from his aversion to, and discomfort with, the national media.
Since June, when the Senate scandal broke, there has been speculation that Harper might mount a “charm offensive,” to take back some lost ground.
There were quiet entreaties from within his caucus, for him to loosen up — give a press conference every week, say, or make a major speech before a non-partisan crowd, once in a while. Several Conservatives I spoke to referred to his freewheeling press conference last December, after the government approved Chinese state-owned CNOOC’s takeover of Calgary-based Nexen Resources. That performance is acknowledged, even by some of Harper’s opponents, to have been impressive and a political win.
The long-established pattern, however, is far more restrictive. Harper’s news conferences are exceedingly rare. On foreign trips, if he speaks to the media at all, he takes a strictly limited number of questions. On this trip there were four “media avails” over six days, each of which lasted just over five minutes. There was a “photo opportunity” last Tuesday evening, at the PM’s camp at Gjoa Haven: It was restricted to a small number of “pool” media, a convention normally used only when there are physical strictures that prevent the whole gallery from attending, such as limited space on a helicopter in a war zone. There was another photo op Wednesday on the Coast Guard vessel Sir Wilfrid Laurier, during which Harper spoke for a few minutes but took no questions.
As for the rest, for the duration of the week up north, ostensibly his favourite and most relaxed time of year, we never saw him — other than from a carefully managed distance of, say, 50 feet. At Gjoa Haven the PM’s camp was 14 kilometres away, across the tundra. Twice at events I moved past the invisible 50-foot barrier to observe Harper engaging with locals up close, say within 20 feet. Both times I was asked by a staffer to move back.
Here’s the weird part: He’s actually pretty good with
The consequence of Harper’s almost comical standoffishness with the national media is a shrouding of his message, and an underlying tension that never goes away.
people, from what I was able to see, through my zoom lens and the hazy veil of the reporter-blocking force field. He appeared comfortable and pleased to pose with all who came out to greet him, particularly children and the elderly. At Gjoa Haven, Harper had to have been tired, as we all were. Yet he posed for photos until there was no one left in line. That’s not a side of the man we normally see.
The consequence of Harper’s almost comical standoffishness with the national media is a shrouding of his message, and an underlying tension that never goes away. The altercation Friday between Li Xue Jiang, bureau chief for the China People’s Daily, and Conservative staffer Julie Vaux, and the Mounties, would never have occurred, had the PMO not been bound by habit to tightly control questions. Setting aside all other issues: Why not just let Li ask his question? Ironically, it was to be about foreign investment — the very topic that garnered Harper plaudits last winter.
The “charm offensive,” it is now clear, is the economy, stupid, leavened with some historical exploration romance.
If there were going to be a renewed effort by Harper to personally engage, this would have been the week to do it. It’s not happening. It’s a curious approach indeed, given that 2015 will be year nine in a country with a long history of 10 and out, and that politics is still, at the end, a popularity contest.