Last week I indicated that Canada has been informed from its beginnings, back in the aftermath of the American Revolution, by two principles: liberalism, and responsible or parliamentary government. After Confederation, the Canadian version of responsible government was modified by the addition of a heavy dose of federalism. These are, I believe, the principles that will guide Canadians into the next century.
Liberalism means many things. In my first article, I referred
to Lord Durham's splendid Report. Bob Rae referred to it in his
first article as well, but did not praise it. According to him,
it was "disastrous, but fortunately short-lived." Au contraire!
It was a splendid piece of work and so filled with of foresight
that even today it informs Canadian political life at its best.
To see why, we must understand Durham's liberalism on its own terms,
removed from what present-day liberalism has become.
Lord Durham was a confident, strong, and spirited liberal. He believed
liberalism was worth defending and was eager to criticize its enemies.
Conventional readings of the Durham Report praise the author for
recommending responsible government, but criticize his proposal
to assimilate French-speaking colonists. In these days of official
bilingualism and semi-official multiculturalism, this looks intolerant,
and -- because contemporary liberals can tolerate anything but intolerance
-- to some it looks illiberal as well.
But consider the circumstances in which Durham found himself. Following
the Rebellion of 1837, he was faced with a "fatal feud" between
the French- and the English-speaking colonists of Lower Canada.
He also had to consider the dissatisfaction with British rule in
the other colonies. Only by adapting to a common North American
way of living, he believed, could French-speakers enjoy genuine
liberty and equality. Thus did he advocate equality of opportunity
and British constitutional practices for all colonists. Thus too,
his liberalism: According to Durham, no religious cult, no clan,
no caste, no nation, no collective, no faction, and no king, should
usurp the right to legislate on behalf of others.
Existing practices, Durham was convinced, would ensure that "the
great part" of French-speakers would remain "labourers in the employ
of English capitalists," and so poor, dependent and resentful. He
was not in error. The French-speaking colonists did not, he said,
wish to "remain stationary", but had been held back by a misguided
policy that both permitted immigration of aggressive English-speaking
entrepreneurs to Quebec and maintained the old seigneuries.
Because the seigneuries could not easily be sold, the French-speakers'
economic competitiveness was reduced. Regardless of whether British
policy was inspired by a goodhearted desire to maintain the noble
but vanishing life of the ancien regime, or by prejudice
against the Catholic and French inhabitants of the colony, the result
was identical: the English-speaking minority prospered while the
majority of French-speakers did not. It was a recipe for strife.
It was also the reason the colonists on both sides argued in terms
of "race." That is, the English-speakers sought to protect their
group privileges, and the French-speakers challenged them on the
same grounds.
Durham was also perhaps the first to notice the mauvaise foi of nationalist
rhetoric. It was designed not to resist assimilation to a liberal,
British political order, but to protest the exclusion of French-speakers
from the prosperous, liberal society of the English-speaking merchants.
Durham therefore opposed legal protection for a "distinct society"
in Lower Canada - he called it a society of ancient virtue - because,
like the "separate but equal" institutions of the American South,
it violated his faith in equality of opportunity.
Much like the sovereigntists today, the Patriote rebels of 1837 were not as
dedicated to preserving the ancient virtues and cultural traditions
of their ethnic garrison as is sometimes assumed. Although they
invoked nationalist sentiments to justify their position, their
appeal to the pre-modern and pre-liberal habitants was intended
to gain electoral support a thoroughly modern, liberal objective
in order to effect liberal reforms against the discriminatory
laws supported by the English-speaking faction. The Patriotes were
moved by ambition, not nostalgia.
Likewise today's sovereigntists, no less than today's federalists, share liberal
political habits. This is why the sovereigntists become so irritated
when their opponents criticize their pure laine rhetoric
as ethnocentric, and worse. And yet, like the Patriotes of 1837,
they do make archaic and anti-liberal appeals against, for example,
"money and the ethnic vote," to use the unforgettable phrase of
Jacques Parizeau.
In recommending equal opportunity for all the colonists, Durham's message was simple: wherever ethnic, linguistic, or religious differences are politically institutionalized, there one finds injustice. This liberal principle has endured in Canada because it guarantees the dignity of all citizens, whatever language they speak. That is what makes Lord Durham such a great liberal, and why his Report remains an enduring statement of Canadian liberalism.
In the context of Durham's arguments rightly understood, it is correct to
observe, as Mr. Rae did last week, "Canada is a federation, not
just a nation, and that says it all." It doesn't quite say
it all, but it says a great deal: We are a "political nation," to
use Cartier's formula in the Confederation Debates, and we are a
federation. It is not, however, "cookie-cutter" federalism, as Mr.
Rae has suggested, to treat the provinces as formally equal. Acknowledging
the reality of equal provinces has become a political necessity,
largely for the same reasons Durham made plain as day in his Report.
A liberal society permits variety, indeed, requires variety for
its survival. Federalism, a mode of governance that enhances liberal
"experiments in living", is the institutional expression of variety
concentrated.
Today few would dispute that Quebec is more distinct from PEI than Saskatchewan is from Manitoba, but the two prairie provinces are not cookie cut-outs either. Here is where the former premier of Canada's most populous province is too timid in his understanding of what federalism can do for diversity in Canada.
There are good reasons for Quebec to take pride in its own language laws,
and even its own sign laws, whatever English-speakers in British
Columbia might think. By the same token, there is no reason Saskatchewan
should not take pride in its own gun laws, regardless of what the
good burghers of Montreal might think. Likewise, Alberta can take
pride in its own health laws, despite the disapproval of the bien
pensants of Toronto. B.C. would certainly take pride in formulating
its own salmon laws.
That, after all, is the point of federalism. It encourages the kind of variety that is both the foundation of liberal society and its fullest expression. Quebec's sign laws, no less than the existence of Nunavut, are experiments. In both places, citizens are able to use local or regional government for their own purposes, to organize their common life without being intimidated by a remote and massive central government, and to take pride in their achievements. Federalism encourages these liberal experiments by promoting government that is not just responsible, but also responsive.
As Canadians head into the new millennium, they can be sure that new political
necessities will require new political experiments. And they can be
confident that the tested principles of liberalism, responsible government
and federalism are equal to the challenge.