TO SEEM GOOD AT DOING GOOD
Progressives have much to learn from Tories’ international stance
Principle lies in discerning the few good guys from all the bad guys, and strength lies in loyalty to the good guys even when they act badly, and to ourselves no matter the cost to others. Shannon Gormley
If you can’t earn a reputation through action, you can always take it by fiat. Prime Minister Stephen Harper’s government, long ridiculed for being internationally inept, at last appears strong and principled in foreign affairs, thanks to the fact that it has taken to calling itself just that: strong and principled.
To progressives, the government’s blunt and blustery assessment of its performance befits its clumsy, astigmatic approach to foreign affairs, in which it trips over its own low-level understanding of nuance and diplomacy. But in “strong” and “principled,” the Conservative government has elegantly and expertly encapsulated nearly everything that matters about politics, domestic and international. Strong people get things done. Principled people do the right thing. Together, these two concepts represent a fundamental political aim: to effectively take collective moral action. And now, as the Conservative government speaks these words about itself, it could represent the Canadian, incumbent and preelection version of “change” and “hope.”
It’s fair to doubt whether the government has been either principled or strong in foreign affairs: development aid has fallen and been tied to our trade interests, and critics of high stature say that Canada now punches below its weight internationally. But these facts fit neatly within a particular conservative moral system, and progressives everywhere should learn what Harper and Foreign Affairs Minister John Baird clearly know: Beneath the arid and granular crust of any foreign policy swelters a moral core of one type or another — only by pointing out that core’s existence and claiming that it can be brought to the surface can politicians warm the public to their agenda. It’s not enough to seem smart; you have to seem good, and good at doing good.
For some conservatives, the most effective and moral way to protect ourselves from the world is to confront it — with the help of a couple of allies, if possible. Principle lies in discerning the few good guys from all the bad guys, and strength lies in loyalty to the good guys even when they act badly, and to ourselves no matter the cost to others. Harper calls this approach independent; NDP foreign affairs critic Paul Dewar has reportedly called it “arrogant isolationism.”
But the double-edged blade of a bad war in Iraq and a bad recession everywhere sliced a fissure through progressives in many liberal democracies: for some, sustained international co-operation remains the strongest protector of our interests and conscience; for others, it’s better for everyone if western democracies pull away from a world on fire. The trouble is that the first approach can seem ineffective; the second, amoral.
Liberal internationalists like Justin Trudeau embrace a fairly clear moral system, but building it isn’t as easy as just yelling at people you don’t like. Multilateral institutions require large investments of political will, diplomatic expertise, funding and patience. Investing in them can be effective in the long-term, but in a climate of pressing fear and uncertainty, long-term effectiveness sounds about as appealing as no effectiveness: People want the world better now.
Liberal isolationists, on the either hand, seemingly avoid making any moral commitments at all. In fact, turning away from the world is rooted in a certain progressive moral system — just not an obvious or compelling one. Afraid of making bad things worse, for liberal isolationists the best thing to do is nothing and the best judgments to make are about ourselves. Like the conservative isolationist approach to foreign policy, liberal isolationism ducks some of the more cumbersome requirements of internationalism, putting a country’s energy to more limited and thus seemingly effective use. But unlike conservative isolationism, liberal isolationism can look craven and morally bankrupt, lacking satisfyingly bellicose grandstanding.
Whatever approach to foreign policy progressives advocate, it will have to seem both moral and effective. It would be nice if it could actually be those things, too.