Thanks to a fluke of heredity, the era of the Justin Trudeau Party is now underway

My favourite line in Justin Trudeau’s acceptance speech came as he began his appeal for party unity, after the bitter divisions of recent years. “I don’t care,” he said, “if you thought my father was great” — pause, sly smile — “or arrogant …”

There is a lot going on in that short passage. It tells us of his capacity for irony ( I don’t care if you thought he was arrogant). It acknowledges an uncomfortable fact ( lots of people hated Pierre Trudeau), while subtly depicting it as a virtue ( he was arrogant because he was great).

Above all, it invokes his patrilineage in support of his demand for loyalty. This was his party. I am his son. And this is now my party. “The era of hyphenated Liberals ends right here, right now!”

He is in every position to say so. This is his party, wholly and absolutely. With 80 per cent of the vote, he obliterated his rivals. He is the party’s only real asset, beyond its history and its name. If there is little likelihood of serious new divisions breaking out, it is in part because there is so little left to fight over. The Liberal party is now essentially the Justin Trudeau party.

And if we are honest, we will concede this is almost entirely a function of heredity. No one would pretend he won because of his platform, or his record in office, or his character and accomplishments. But neither was it simply a matter of celebrity or good looks. The reason he is the leader of the Liberal party today, the reason 40 per cent or more of Canadians say they would like him to be prime minister, is because of who his dad was.

We have not seen anything quite like this before in our public life. Dynastic politics is not unknown in Canada — Preston Manning was the son of a long- serving Alberta premier; Paul Martin, of a powerful federal cabinet minister — but never has it appeared in such purely monarchical form: the conferral of so high an office on someone so otherwise unqualified for it, but almost as an inheritance. And, what is more, the widespread consensus that this is right and appropriate.

This may — or may not — be irrational, but it is undeniable, and it is extraordinarily potent. It taps into the most profound longings in our psyche, rooted in the passing of the generations — the desire to be worthy of our parents, to be an example to our children, to pass on what we have been given. Harnessed to an overtly idealist message, such as Trudeau is attempting, it takes on a sense of noblesse oblige, as if he were somehow above mere politics.

Trudeau himself has spoken in these terms, suggesting his leadership bid arose not out of a sense of entitlement but rather obligation: to give back, not just to society, but to his father. At a time of deep and corrosive cynicism about politics, and the means and motives of its practitioners, we should not be surprised to find the public responding as it has. It does not necessarily mean people are prepared to hand him the keys to the government. But it does mean they will be prepared to give him, more than most politicians, the benefit of the doubt as he finds his feet.

Why does heredity hold such power over us? Is it supposed that he has inherited the same abilities as his father? I doubt it, though he clearly has a talent for politics, as we are starting to learn. In its most irrational form, it is tied to intimations of fate, even inevitability, as if he had been destined all his life for this. Less mystically, it is bound up in the realities of his situation: being the son of a prime minister naturally affects both who he is and how we see him.

I think it explains, for example, his unusual self- assurance. At its worst, this emerges in those flaky episodes for which he is known, a sort of narcissistic flippancy. At its best, it reveals a jaunty unconcern for convention, a readiness to do things his way, whatever the flak he takes for it. This is a precious gift, in a profession that is not kind to those inclined to self- doubt.

He benefits, moreover, from having grown up in the public eye. We feel as if we know him, indeed as if he were somehow ours. You can see it in the almost protective attitude he seems to evoke: When Martha Hall Findlay mildly dissed him for his privileged upbringing at a public debate, the reaction, both in the room and out, was astonishing.

None of this means he is ready for government, or even that he will be a success as leader. He is lacking in experience; he has to date shown little evidence of depth; his judgment has been called into question on many occasions. If he exceeded expectations in the campaign, it is mostly because expectations were so low to start with. Though in his 40s, he seems much younger, as if he were just now emerging from an extended adolescence.

But he is a Trudeau, and for now that is all that matters.