“At every point since he became Prime Minister,” says Paul Wells, political editor and columnist at Maclean’s, “it’s been easy to find people in Ottawa who will calmly explain to you that this Harper business is almost done.”
The Mike Duffy scandal metastasizing around him, and Justin Trudeau’s Liberals surging in the polls, talk that it will soon be curtains for Stephen Harper is likely more common now than ever. Except if one thing has proved true about Harper, as Wells points out, such predictions have—until now anyway—always proved premature.
“After the 2004 election when [Harper] cut Martin to a minority, they figured it was because Martin hadn’t found his sea legs yet, and he would make short work of Harper next time. After the 2006 election, well, Harper barely won. After the 2008 election, he had only won another minority and therefore the Conservative government was going to eject him. Now it’s a common theme, I see it in the newspapers most weeks, someone saying, ‘Well, Harper’s washed up and he’s going to quit soon.’ He will one day, but so far the detractors have been wrong.”
Wells has been covering Ottawa since 1994, when he was a staff writer for the Montreal Gazette, and frequent contributor to Saturday Night. In 2003 he moved to Maclean’s, where in addition to his column for the magazine he writes a blog that often strays beyond national politics to survey technology (particularly the travails of RIM/Blackberry), physics, jazz, and classical music. He is also the author of Right Side Up: The Fall of Paul Martin and the Rise of Stephen Harper’s New Conservatism (2006).
Last month Wells published what is arguably the definitive account of Harper’s rise and reign to this point, The Longer I’m Prime Minister. Few other journalists have given us as insightful, eloquent, tough-minded, and plausible an account for Harper’s recent domination of Canadian politics—love or hate the Prime Minister, Wells demonstrates the necessity of understanding Harper from the inside.
Hazlitt spoke with Wells during a pre-publication visit to Toronto, and then caught up with him again last week as the Nigel Wright-Mike Duffy imbroglio inched ever closer to the prime minister himself, presenting Harper with the greatest challenge to his leadership since the 2008 coalition crisis and a controversial prorogation came within a hair’s breadth of unseating him.
What do you make of the information released recently by the RCMP in its ITO? There is the bit where Nigel Wright told his colleagues dealing with the Duffy problem, “We’re good to go from the PM”—in reference presumably to the illegal payment he was about to make. Do you think this confirms that Harper knew about the payment to Duffy?
The ITO is too dense for me to parse economically. I’ll note only that, by my reading, every time Wright refers to authorization from the PM, it’s before Wright says he had decided to pay Duffy out of his own pocket. To me it’s hard to read the RCMP document in any way that suggests Harper knew what Wright was up to.
What’s more interesting is what happens after Wright’s actions are known. Harper has his staff defend Wright for four days. That’s a long time in a 24-hour news environment. And for six months afterward, Harper now says, he did not ever once inquire of Senators Gerstein, Stewart-Olsen or LeBreton what the hell had happened. This strains credulity.
How badly is the scandal overshadowing what should prove to be one of Harper’s lasting legacies—the landmark free trade agreement with the European Union? Is it premature to speculate how damaging the Duffy affair will prove to Harper in the 2015 election?
A lot of these things depend on what time cycle you’re looking at. There weren’t a lot of headlines on trade with Europe last week. In 20 years, there may be more. Canada-US trade was not what most people wanted to talk about when they discussed Brian Mulroney in 1992. In 2013 it’s a key ingredient to Mulroney’s relative redemption.
What effect will all this have on Harper’s future? He once seemed on the ropes over Afghan detainees, F-35 pricing, Bev Oda’s doctored departmental memo, and a lot more. I’m not being glib when I say I’ve read too many premature autopsies on the Harper years to have any taste in writing another. More broadly, I’ve written a book of history and I’m reluctant to peddle cheap predictions. All I know is that this Senate business is real trouble for Harper.
After seven years as Prime Minister are you still surprised that so many people, especially his detractors, seem to underestimate Stephen Harper? Or misread him?
I’m beginning to think that part of political success is a tendency to upset your detractors so much that they misjudge you. If your opponents can draw a bead on you, then you’re finished. I covered Jean Chrétien for close to a decade but for five of those years I was at the National Post. Most National Post readers were very upset that Chrétien was prime minister. They allowed themselves to believe that he was an idiot. They allowed themselves to believe that he was a backwoodsman that didn’t understand the sophisticated real world. So it was pretty easy for him to run laps around that kind of audience.
It’s the same with Harper. If you think he’s going to do the narrow ideological thing, he doesn’t do that. If you think he’s going to allow himself to be led by the nose by religious conservatives, he’ll surprise you.
In the prologue to The Longer I’m Prime Minister you write, “readers who cannot bring themselves to believe he is elected Prime Minister of this country not only misunderstand Stephen Harper, they also misunderstand Canada.” Could you elaborate on that?
The theme of some of the early Harper books was that he was an essentially manufactured product of the University of Calgary’s political science department—that people like Tom Flanagan and Ted Morton were out to destroy a Canadian consensus. One of my arguments is that there was no damn consensus. There was a diverse polity that was constructed almost by accident, one that the Liberals happened to win almost all the time. Even though there are other strong strains of political belief in the country, Quebec nationalism and Prairie populism are the two big ones. Liberals would split that opposition and run up in the centre again and again and again.
But for all the time that Pierre Trudeau was Prime Minister, and for all the time that Jean Chrétien was Prime Minister, there were millions of Canadians who couldn’t stomach it. They’re as Canadian as the next guy and Harper comes from that broad cultural conservatism. He’s not a freak or a loner. Then there’s another more recent argument in the book The Big Shift by John Ibbitson and Darrell Bricker, that recent demographic changes have erased the old Canada and created a new Conservative-friendly Canada—I think that’s badly overstated too. I don’t think Canada has changed starkly in the last ten years in a way that explains Stephen Harper. There were always Conservatives, there will always be Liberals, and Harper simply has maneuvered more skillfully in that playing field than his opponents.
But one reason he’s able to win is that he had broad, strong, cultural support from good, honest Canadians who simply prefer him to the alternative. Those Canadians are outnumbered by the number of Canadians who vote against the Conservatives. But there are several million of them, and most of them have now voted Conservative four, five, six, seven elections in a row. The least we can do for those people is understand who they are, where they live, and why they vote that way.
You’ve interviewed Harper formally, in microphones-on situations, and you’ve chatted with him socially. How much does your impression of Harper contradict the perception that so many Canadians have of him through the media.
One of the big things I’m trying to do in The Longer I’m Prime Minister is to avoid caricature, to avoid one-line arguments about the guy. There have been other books that say “he’s a control freak” or “he’s a religious zealot” or “he has a clear idea about Quebec’s place in Canada that guides everything he does in politics.” He’s a complex enough guy, that’s just not the case. If my argument were he’s a control freak, there’s a million counter-examples. If I say he’s a timid incrementalist, there’s examples where he’s been bold. And if I say he’s a loner or some kind of mutant brain in a jar, there are examples of him being generous, thoughtful, funny, and intimate that would confound that general impression.
You’ve already written one book about Stephen Harper’s rise of to power. Do you recall your earliest impressions of him?
Stephen Harper always stood out amongst the Reform MPs who were first elected. There were 50 or more of them who were elected in 1993. I came to Ottawa about a year later. He was relatively urbane, although his suits were cheap. He was unusually comfortable in French, he was very comfortable talking about political ideas and strategy with reporters, whereas the Reform Party in general made a virtue of a sort of naïve view of things. “This is what the people want, why can’t the people just have the type of government they’ve been asking for?”
Harper would never talk at that level, he would always talk at a more elaborate level. He was the least physically impressive or imposing guy you could ever imagine. More than once I would find myself having stood next to Harper for several minutes without noticing he was there. He’s learned since then to fill a room like a leader does. But he had to learn because you’d barely pay any attention to him when he was a young politician.
Did you have any reason to expect that he’d end up sticking around as long as he has, or dominating Canadian politics?
Not only could I not have imagined a Prime Minister Stephen Harper in 1994, it was very hard to imagine a Prime Minister Stephen Harper in the summer of 2005, six months before he got elected. I attended a dinner during the Calgary Stampede in 2005, about ten people around the table, most of them Conservatives lamenting that Harper had blown his one shot at power, and now he was going to lose the next election and the party would have to look around for a new leader so soon after it had been founded. Stephen deserves a chance to try again and we’ll have to find a leader afterwards.
That was six months before he became Prime Minister and two of the people at that table are now ministers in his cabinet. They were as surprised as anyone when he managed to win. He dominates our politics so thoroughly now that it’s genuinely hard to remember how tentative his grasp on power was when he got elected. The Conservatives in 2006 got elected with a smaller share of the total number of MPs of any government since Confederation. The government he had in 2006 had the smallest number of MPs of any government, had 30 fewer seats than Joe Clark had in 1979, and Joe Clark only lasted nine months. They were convinced they would not last a year. They were convinced of it, and they had to make the most they could of that fleeting shot at power so that they could make the case to return to power somewhere down the road. That was the original plan.
Then it’s doubly astonishing given what happened in 2008, surviving the prospect of a Liberal-NDP coalition with the explicit backing of the Bloc Quebecois. There was widespread speculation that Harper was effectively finished, that he would have to resign as the Conservative leader should they lose the government in a non-confidence vote. The asked the Governor General to prorogue parliament and came out of it reinvigorated. Did he merely luck out from what seemed like a hastily put together coalition, or was it a case of making his own luck?
It is true that the coalition could hardly have launched a clumsier revolt. They hadn’t prepared public opinion. They made no attempt in the war over public opinion that followed to make a sophisticated play for the opinions of Canadians. They restricted themselves to a sort of freshman civics course conception of Parliament, which holds that any mathematical majority of MPs can take power and that the opinion of Canadians has nothing to do with it. Or they assumed that Canadians preferred their coalition to the Harper government.
For a few days it looked like they were right. This was a special kind of crisis for Stephen Harper, the kind of thing he’d always feared. It’s like the rats in Room 101 for Winston Smith in 1984. He had always known that in a minority parliament, with the Conservatives at the right end of the spectrum, that the median MP would be a Liberal. That is, if parliament ever settled to its ground state as we would say in physics, that the natural prime minister for that parliament was a Liberal. And that he had to make sure the opposition never united against him. And then they did. Precisely because he had seen that danger for a few days he was dejected, and figured he was ruined. Then he saw the picture of Stephane Dion, Jack Layton, and Gilles Duceppe shaking hands over the deal—and the presence of Duceppe gave him the wedge that he needed to blow that whole thing up. But that is the big crisis. I believe that what he is going through now, although it is a more protracted mess, is less significant than that crazy week where it looked like he’d lost everything because he’d allowed the opposition to unite.
Did he learn anything from the experience? Is it evident in the way he’s governed since?
The amazing thing is the series of polls that came out starting about a week into that mess, which showed that quite a strong plurality of Canadian preferred a Harper government, even one that had essentially disappointed them with his economic policies during the economic crisis, they preferred a Harper government to a coalition. It was essentially the first time he knew that the people of Canada had his back in a straight choice between his government and a realistic alternative possibility. It was the first time he actually felt—not all Canadians, never all Canadians—but he felt like he had enough Canadians behind him. That became the strategy for the 2011 election.
Starting about a week after the coalition crisis looks like it’s passed, Harper starts telling interviewers, “Well, you know the next election is going to be a choice between a Conservative majority or an Opposition coalition.” He repeated that line for two years before the 2011 election. He sent out other cabinet ministers to repeat that line. He could not have made it clearer how he was going to fight the 2011 election. And the Opposition preferred to assume that that argument would not be compelling for Canadians, or that he wouldn’t follow through, or that the mention of a Conservative majority would itself be so scary that Canadians would rush to embrace a coalition or something.
So again, if my capsule argument about Harper is that he’s unpredictable, that is a big rebuttal—the fact that for two years he told everyone. It’s like Babe Ruth pointing to the spot over the wall where he’s going to send the next pitch and then delivering. One of the weirdest things about Harper is over that extended period in the middle of his time as Prime Minister, when he tells everyone how he’s going to win the next election and he wins it just the way he said he would. Michael Ignatieff was helpless.