Let the heros eat burgers
To those who tuned in late, this week’s talk about Rob Ford’s “victory” made it sound as if new a subway were about to run under Sheppard after all, that a casino promising billions had been approved or a gravy train stopped.
But no, His Worship’s muchheralded win came when city council agreed (22-16) to a deal that will see Hero Certified Burger installed in the refurbished snack bar in Nathan Phillips Square.
“It was great,” a flushed Ford told reporters on Wednesday. “It was a good victory. I want to thank the councillors for supporting it, and now we can get revenue and sell some burgers. We did good today.” Let’s hope so. If this is what Ford has been reduced to, the situation’s worse than we thought. Or perhaps better.
For the mayor to have so much invested in this issue is a sure sign of a politician grasping at straws, or at least, fries. Last month, city staff recommended council accept Hero’s proposal. But some members wanted something more interesting than a fast food outlet and held up the application.
That’s when the chief magistrate swung into action to defend the integrity of the procurement process and made the matter a priority. Soon afterwards, Ford became the Hero of the hour.
Anyone unfamiliar with the workings of civic politics in Toronto might think this a joke, a farce or some childish gag. But we’re not making this stuff up. By the time burgers hit council, the issue was so hot councillors spent three hours debating the issue.
No doubt burgers are too close to Ford’s heart, as well as his stomach, but the issue goes beyond where the mayor hopes to eat lunch in the future. The reason he invested what tiny political capital he still holds in the Hero vote is the unsettling (for Ford) fact that he has lost control of council.
Delve a little deeper into the spectacle, and one sees a politician clinging desperately to the illusion that he’s mayor in anything more than name. The truth is that, like the city itself, council carries on without him.
Even at the best of times, Toronto mayors wield little actual power. Ford has almost none. Other than their ability to build consensus, and stack committees, our mayors are dependent on their ability to persuade, a skill the current office holder lacks utterly.
Throughout the city and well beyond, Ford has made himself a figure of fun and an object of ridicule. He leaves us alternately appalled, amused, apoplectic or aghast. Still, he has supporters, and could even win again, but beyond the shouting and screaming of Ford Nation, he enjoys zero credibility.
Author Richard Florida called Ford “the worst mayor in the modern history of cities.” That’s putting it politely.
Under Ford, political discourse has hit a new low in Toronto. His admirers acknowledge that, but aren’t bothered. They see him as a fighter in a larger cultural war now being waged against them. They are probably right; the sort of suburbanism Ford represents is under fire from every direction.
Forces bigger than the city spell the death of a dream that has fuelled growth in the GTA for decades. The challenges to our prosperity and quality of life are overwhelming.
Much easier to take a stand on something we can actually sink our teeth into: burgers.
As someone once observed, the smaller the stakes, the more vicious and bitter the politics.