The cautionary tale of Chris Alexander, former boy-wonder

What ever happened to Chris Alexander?

The once promising boywonder of the Canadian foreign service has become a cautionary tale about what happens to those who fall in with the wrong crowd. It’s a remarkable story, not only because of his obvious promise, but because, in this instance, the wrong crowd happens to be the hard-cases who run our country’s governing party.

Blessed with Jimmy Stewart posture and an accompanying aw-shucks charm, the Oxfordeducated Alexander won early attention as Canada’s first resident Ambassador to Afghanistan in 2003. He was only 34 years old. After an additional stint in the war-ravaged country as a UN Special Representative, earning him deserved plaudits at home and abroad, he returned to Canada to take up the higher calling of public office, winning a seat in Parliament in the 2011 election. Two years later he was named Minister of Citizenship and Immigration.

It’s a story that provokes comparisons to the likes of Lester B. Pearson, almost smacking of an individual manifest destiny — the diplomatic prodigy who rises right to the top and one day leads our politics toward a more enlightened and understanding place. The inclination to like him, to believe in him, was strong. He stirred interest even among those who don’t usually vote Conservative — maybe, for this guy, someday they would. Maybe he was special.

Unfortunately, Alexander has often disappointed.

Instead of bringing diplomatic grace to the practice of politics, he has frequently proven himself a devoted student of the poison-tipped partisanship that so thoroughly defines the Harper Conservatives. During his time in Ottawa, he has done what it takes to get noticed, win advancement and gain the favour of a prime minister, who prefers spear-throwers to problem solvers. The former ambassador has conquered Ottawa by becoming a foot soldier, another suit of armour in Harper’s Talking Points army. It’s been a shame to see.

The most recent and strident example came this week with his early handling of the Syrian refugee crisis. The limp, lifeless image of a little boy whose family hoped to escape tyranny has seized the attention of people around the world — a haunting snapshot that shreds the gut of any parent. As the father of four boys, I admit to succumbing to emotion on the matter. It clouds my mind and makes me rage to do something to help. I’d like to see our government do more to help also.

Maybe it’s a bad idea to make policy by way of Instagram.

Maybe it’s right to say that this crisis has been brewing for years and that thousands of other boys have been lying abandoned and dead on beaches. Maybe it’s knee jerk and unfair — improvised and impetuous. Maybe. Or maybe past indifference is no excuse for an inadequate ongoing effort.

Maybe a single searing image is what’s sometimes required to jolt people out of their lethargy, galvanize public interest and brew popular demand for a fuller response.

Our government’s policy to date, championed by this minister, hasn’t been sufficiently robust — taking in too few people in need, relying too much on private sector sponsors in the place of direct government action and permitting domestic politics to infect our humanitarian response. Of course, we can’t save every life at risk. But we can do a lot more than we’ve been doing.

In fairness, it is complex and unforgiving territory. Immigration ministers have been striking the wrong balance, playing to the political bleachers and screwing up our refugee policy for decades, in governments of every stripe. On top of all that, let’s keep in mind that Alexander has a boss. He serves at the pleasure of the prime minister. So perhaps we’re expecting too much to expect much different.

Harder to excuse was the petty, nasty tone that accompanied Alexander’s initial defence of the government’s refugee policy. He scolded critics, deflected responsibility, questioned others’ commitment and, when backed into a corner of his own making, attacked the media as being to blame for it all.

It came to a head on the Wednesday edition of CBC’s Power and Politics. Alexander grew hostile as he struggled to explain his position, eventually challenging the show’s host, Rosemary Barton.

In full bluster, he tried bullying her, saying that the network had never discussed the issue before (not true) and had certainly never before interviewed him on the topic (only true because he had refused to participate in such broadcasts).

Barton would have none of it. On live television, she corrected Alexander’s mischaracterizations and then put the boots to him hard. At least the next night, after suspending his campaign to concentrate on the crisis (which critics were wrong to dismiss as an empty gesture; it was the right thing to do) he redeemed himself slightly with a more composed performance.

But it’s not the first time he’s played the part of the unthinking partisan. Watching Wednesday night’s spectacle, one had to wonder what’s gone wrong. Where did that original Chris Alexander go?

Up there on the screen that might as well have been Paul Calandra or Pierre Poilievre, government spokespersons that we’ve come to associate with transparent posturing.

That’s the really troubling thing. Alexander, a knowledgeable, talented and presumably well-motivated person, someone whose history and abilities once inspired sincere hopes for great things has allowed himself to become just another one of “them.” A snapping, snarling partisan.

Not because he’s a bad person. Not because he’s taken this particular stand on this particular issue. But because that’s what politics — specifically politics as it’s currently practised on Parliament Hill — does to people. It brings them low.

If the Conservatives lose this election, don’t underestimate how much this sort of thing contributes to their downfall.

When even the likes of Chris Alexander can be so diminished people can see that something about our politics simply has to change.