The Parallel Parliament

by Glen Pearson

Tag: civil society

Democracy Bites Back

NEW YORK, NY – AUGUST 13: Protestors rally against white supremacy and racism in Columbus Circle on August 13, 2017 in New York City. The rally is organized by a New York City based group called ‘Refuse Fascism’ following clashes between white supremacists and counter-protestors in Charlottesville, Virginia on Saturday, August 12th. Heather Heyer, 32, was killed in Charlottesville when a car driven by a white supremacist barreled into a crowd of counter-protesters following violence at the ‘Unite the Right’ rally. (Photo by Drew Angerer/Getty Images)

There is no way to adequately describe the Donald Trump phenomenon, regardless of the now countless attempts to get our collective heads around it. It’s gone from being a novelty and growing sense of unease to a place where millions are actually fearing for their democracy. That’s a good thing, and it just could be that Trump’s particular brand of egoism is creating something in America that it couldn’t create by itself – a higher expectation for itself.

The violence in Charlottesville, Virginia, in the past week has sufficiently reminded us what can happen when, and if, leadership refuses to put a clear definition on the very threat such actions and such groups represent to the collective well-being of citizens. Yet it’s also a reminder that Donald Trump didn’t create such depth of animosity, racism, bigotry, hatred and violence. As DeShanne Stokes would put it: “Trump didn’t divide America. He just doused us with gasoline and fanned the flames.”

And there it is: by failing to keep a careful watch on democracy the ghosts of history have returned in a fashion that is deeply painful to all those groups targeted by the haters. But it’s consequently deeply scarring to the rest of us as well. Things are happening in the United States and around the world that are movingly unacceptable to us, but not to the degree to where were are moved sufficiently to prevent them.

If Charlottesville has done anything, it has reminded that a fluid sense of social justice and idealism yet run through civil society and will bite back and display signs of life that many thought had elapsed.

For the alt-right movement this is proving a difficult lesson. Their hope that having something of a mild anarchist in the Oval Office could permit a resurgence for their efforts, has, for now at least, been dashed. They had somehow seen in Trump’s victory and rampant promises to “make America great again” as well as to initiate an immigration ban as something of a moral cover, and opportunity, to “go public” once more and up their cancerous designs.

It is up to citizens and not just voters to show that they dream of something better than the society they tolerate.

Let’s be clear, white nationalism took a severe hit this week – not enough to kill it, but to remind the movement that they are still on the “outs,” as far as the majority of Americans are concerned. For all the criticism of the media, the Republicans and the Democrats, and the entire political order, this past week has revealed a latent sense of decency and political poignancy that would have remained lethargic if Charlottesville hadn’t occurred. And the message was unequivocal: not here, not now, not ever. There would be no room in main street America for such animalistic tendencies.

Democracy, for all its complexities, layers, and confoundedness, is pushing back and it’s likely that the white nationalists underestimated just how much civil society, the media, political elites, and even the world would denounce them. The sheer scope of the opposition to their hateful methods has been compelling.

But the real question remains: is it enough? Comedian Jimmy Fallon, in reacting to Charlottesville and Trump’s tepid reaction, said it was time, “to show the next generation that we haven’t forgotten how hard people have fought for human rights. We cannot do this. We cannot go backward.” He’s right, of course, but are we ready to live our daily lives as living expressions of that reality, or only respond when some horror occurs? It’s an important distinction.

Another comedian, Seth Meyers, put it plainly: “He is not president.” Millions might feel that way, but it’s not true. Donald Trump is in the Oval Office, and citizens, politicians, and the media helped put him there. This is ever the curse of democracy – open elections don’t always result in fair elections. It is up to citizens and not just voters to show that they dream of something better than the society they tolerate. That has been occurring across many fronts in the past few days. The secret is now to turn that into a collective and individual way of life and not just a sentiment.

See this post in its original Huffington Post format here.

 

 

 

It’s Time for Canada 150+

This post can be read in its original Huffington Post format here.

Festivities will continue for months yet, but the focal point for this country’s 150th birthday culminated last week in birthday celebrations across the country and even with expat Canadians situated around the world. Though Shakespeare noted that, “With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come,” there is yet through the land a sense that we are vibrant enough to chart a more enhanced future for ourselves.

Call it 150+ – the opportunity to see ourselves with all our potential, challenges, and opportunities to have a larger effect in a world more chaotic than at any time in recent memory.

Can we become more? To answer that question we require a good understanding of who we are and what our world has become. If we were honest, most Canadians would profess to being thankful to live in a comparatively quiet corner of the world that is as beautiful as it is vast, that is compassionate and smart, and that is seen as a civil nation capable of housing countless agendas. On top of that, however, we would have to admit that we have been too comfortably slow at respecting our natural environment enough to fight for its future or of finding the adequate healing mechanism for moving forward with our indigenous citizens.

So, it could be true that our vast country is bigger than our ability to manage it properly. It is likely true that, despite Vimy, Stanley Cups, Nobel prizes, Olympic medals, generosity to the world’s poor, and an enduring peaceful federalism, that we are not yet what we can be. We would have to admit that underlying all that compliance and moderation we harbour those subtle prejudices and bigotries that have eventually unravelled other nations in different times. We are known for how many times we say “sorry,” but have yet to develop the urgency that make our collective apologies effective enough to move on together with those we have failed or offended in the past.

Yet for all these challenges, there is a sense in the country that we are perhaps viewing ourselves differently. There has been more of a commitment to fight for gender equality, an improved willingness globally to struggle for an international development program that focuses on the advancement of women and girls to a degree unprecedented in our history. We have recommitted ourselves to a new era of peacekeeping that, though oblique at the moment, is a good match for our willingness to take a larger role in global military responsibility.

There was a time when pop star Bono declared that the world needed more Canada. We smiled, offered ourselves kudos, and then went about our business as though it didn’t matter. Now it does and there is a growing understanding among Canadians that this country could well have an expanded role as the world moves into the challenging decades ahead.

Not all that many years ago (1978), Saturday Night editor Robert Fulford said he had learned that Canadian culture remained virtually hidden in the broader world. It now seems likely that such a statement is no longer true. Yes, Justin Trudeau has captured much of the world’s attention, as with Edinburgh University’s announcement yesterday that it will honour him with an honourary degree for his work on gender equality. But Canada’s new presence in the world is about much more than one person or one party. It’s not just because this country has changed but that the world itself has entered a troubled era – a time in which Canada’s peaceful domestic accomplishments stand out all the more and, in fact, become the envy of the world.

True, as a people we are 150 years old, but all indications seem to point a future of greater global influence – not of the superpower kind but of the humanizing variety. We contain multitudes, more diversity than ever in our history, and yet in the process of making our accommodations with one another we are forging our place in the world. We have not only endured but have matured at just the time a challenged international order is looking for models for survival. In fighting for over a century for civic peace and global moderation we have made a greater place for ourselves in the larger world. We might be 150, but the legacy of our struggles is now about to have greater effect.
 

It’s Called Civil Society For a Reason

This post can be viewed in its original National Newswatch format here.

Numerous insights have been written in recent years regarding the eroding effect of partisanship on the political estate, most recently in America. That’s too bad because it’s a red herring and frequently masks what is the real underlying cause of political dysfunction. The fact that individuals hold opinions often at odds with others and support parties of various convictions has been essential to both the spirited and fluid nature of democracy itself.

Others feel differently. Writing recently in Fusion, American commentator Hamilton Nolan went so far as to say that those who profess to be non-partisan are surely part of our present problem. The title of his article speaks for itself: “Bipartisanship Means I Don’t Understand What Politics Is.” Bipartisanship is all too often an excuse from preserving the status quo, he believes, and the refusal to address America’s deepest problems – violence, poverty, racism, elitism. He believes not everything can be solved by compromise, and he has a point. Yet he maintains that many of those who seek such compromise are “moral monsters” and that those who call for more civility in politics are, in reality, “obscene.”

It’s easy to understand where Nolan is coming from, even as we consider the Canadian context. Why is it, for example, that no matter who holds the reins of power in Ottawa child poverty remains stubbornly high, that efforts to battle climate change are hardly sufficient, that gender equality is slow to achieve, or that Canadians remain disillusioned between political promise and effective performance? These are valid queries and deserve deeper consideration.

But to say that they endure because of bipartisanship or civility is something of a stretch. Civility lies at the very essence of effective politics, and as long as it is practiced with a willingness to listen respectfully to other points of view democracy has a chance of moving forward. We call it “civil” society for a reason. Far from being tepid, civility lies at the heart of effective politics. It permits those of whatever persuasion to remain in the room long enough to seek solutions together. For hyper-partisans such a pursuit is useless; with minds rigidly made up long in advance, the very thought of finding common ground is anathema. Political wars are their bread and butter.

One of the problems in Nolan’s perspective is that in poll after poll, on both sides of the border, the large majority of citizens want their politicians to “dial down” the endless bickering and get on with running their country in a collaborative fashion. There’s a reason why there are increasing calls for more respect in politics, and since it comes from citizens themselves there is clearly relevance to it. They don’t mind the partisanship but reject its rabid extremes and, for all its talk, the lack of effectiveness.

In less than a week Canadians will be celebrating the country’s 150th birthday, but it’s about more than just partying. It’s about collectively acknowledging a century and a half of living together, despite every division imaginable – geography, regional distinctions, language, distance, ethnicity, race, and, yes, partisan persuasion. While other nations struggle to hold themselves together at these weak points, Canada somehow finds strength in them, despite the friction.

In a real way, we have proved that it is our civility, our respect for our differences, that has allowed us to not only endure but to prevail. Our problems are numerous, yet we aren’t frozen in place by them. In effect, it has been our respectful civility that has been the precondition for our survival as a nation. It hasn’t been about our divisions, but the process of how we deal with them has been the secret to whatever success we have achieved.

Canada has proved to be an enduring triumph among global nations and deep down we all know it. Around the world, Canada is known for the congeniality of its people. Our problems are massive in scale, but it is how we have gone about handling them together that attests to the genius of our collective co-habitation. We have placed the ability to be civil at the centre of our innovation and curiosity as a people. By standing up and demanding that our politicians and other leaders put aside meanness for fairness, we attest to our ability to endure instead of self-destructing.

The majority of us comprehend that we cannot solve our abiding problems with hateful rhetoric, opinionated destruction, or namby-pamby citizenship. Partisanship is essential to our future; blind partisanship will kill it. Civility is what allows us to talk about our differences. Political will is what helps us to overcome them. For all our problems, it is time to celebrate that we are still together.

Sleeves Rolled Up

IF SOCIAL MEDIA IS ANY INDICATION, 2016’s end couldn’t come quickly enough. Somehow the last 12 months have left millions with the compelling urge to turn the page and get on with something better.

It’s not difficult to understand why this angst seems so universal. It has been a year of significant challenges and disappointments. Political turbulence, economic stagnation, the frustrations of the middle class, environmental decline — this list could just go on and on with issues that are striking insecurity into the hearts of citizens and leaders alike.

A clue to what was happening occurred partway through 2016 when Carmelo Anthony of the New York Knicks claimed, “The system is broken, the problems are not new, the violence is not new and the racial divide definitely is not new. But the urgency to create change is at an all-time high.” It’s that (at times, toxic) urgency that has added fuel to numerous conflagrations around the globe and prompted people to look back at 2016 as a dark period, despite its numerous bright moments.

Perhaps no other year in recent memory has carried such foreboding undercurrents as what we have just endured. Many wonder whether civilization itself has pivoted towards its own demise in the past 12 months, while others fret that the collective belief in democracy, equality, God, fairness and progress might have been misplaced. The passing of numerous celebrity icons in past months has only added to the sense of gloom.

If there was ever a time for a universal sense of hope to make an appearance, now, on the eve of 2017, would be a good time — or as Alfred Lloyd Tennyson put it, “hope smiles from the threshold of the year to come, whispering, ‘it will be happier.’”

Yet if hope is to accomplish its difficult task it will require the hands of the many and not just the manipulations of the few.

“Hope is the better angels of our nature with their sleeves rolled up.”

Hope is not just an aspiration, but a driving force of nature that takes on the world with a sense of determination, daring to take another chance at getting things right. It’s no mere pious virtue that lures people into its aura in peace and solitude, but a compelling urge to remove those obstacles that keep us from a brighter future. It is the pitting of ourselves against the worst aspects of humanity and believing that we’ll prevail. Hope is the better angels of our nature with their sleeves rolled up.

We have come to one of those turning points in history that will define our future for the better or the worse. Yet there is one key difference — the rise of populism. Across the world, the voices of common people are railing against the power of those of have enjoyed the privileges of their wealth and excess at the expense of others.

But populism can easily become a force for destruction that permits its individual anger to overpower the need for mutual respect and collective collaboration. The rise of the common person is now a global reality, but it must demonstrate the very willingness to understand and provide for others and the planet that our global leaders have so far failed to bring

It is now up to citizens, perhaps more than it has ever been, and we are making that reality increasingly clear to those that govern us. But we must learn to cooperate with our elected representatives in a fashion that diffuses power in equitable fashion. This past year, while giving rise to such a concept, has so far pitted citizens more against each other than fighting the obstacles that threaten our very survival. This is what we must turn around in 2017.

This year ends with the sad passing of Carrie Fisher, whose role as Princess Leia Organa in the Star Wars series proved iconic to an entire generation. Though her role in the recent Star Wars: Rogue One lasts less than a minute, her utterance of the last word in the movie serves to remind us that it’s only after endless sacrifice and a sense of collective purpose that such a word could be uttered with any form of confidence.

“Hope,” she says before the credits roll — a fitting conclusion near the end of a troubling year and prior to another 12 months of opportunity to get things right.

Someone We Were Meant To Be

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IN WHAT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE AN INTERVIEW yesterday about public service over a number of decades, I was asked, “What was the main driving force when you were young that made you want to be a humanitarian?” I have thought of this many times over the years, but when I replied, “World War Two,” the interviewer looked back in mild surprise. I went on to explain that I had grown up in Scotland following that great conflict, that my Mom had been a Scottish war bride, and that my Dad had been twice wounded in battle before being sent back to Canada to convalesce.

Later, growing up in Calgary, I came to regard the Second World War as a kind of constant companion. It took years for my father to recover and my early thoughts are filled with memories of that struggle. During those post-war years there were ceremonies almost every month – special battle anniversaries, building of new monuments, Spitfire and Lancaster bombers flying overhead, the opening of museums, and reunions of old battle buddies and gatherings of women who had participated in the effort in numerous capacities. Dad played for years as a drummer in a military band, and with his attendance usually required, he always brought me along.

But always there was the unnamed Guest everywhere in those formative years. Despite a revitalized economy, a growing middle class, creature comforts, and family holidays, Death was never far away. So many had died that the many who had survived were most often ensconced in a tomb of silence. Dad virtually never talked about his experiences during those war years, but I could sense, throughout his entire life, that the silence represented pain, horror, guilt, grief, and a sense of mortality. But more than that it represented the loss of youth and innocence for an entire generation of men and women. They had gone from idealistic and trusting boys and girls to a burdened group of adults in only six years (1939-1945). The bloom was forever off the rose – not because they had plucked it but because the evil of humanity had stripped it too soon from their collective life.

One would think that growing up in such an atmosphere would be morbid, but it was nothing like that. It wasn’t joyous either, but what it ultimately entailed were respect and the sense of shared sacrifice. Death had taken away millions during those years and yet it had returned to the living time and again as an effective guide to what is the most noble in life.

During those years I came to discover that death didn’t signify the end of something, but the rebirth of something else – something transcendent. Those years taught me, as they had instructed my parents in far more devastating circumstances, that the glory of nobility and sacrifice goes on forever. Those things one assumed had ended were still enduring, inspiring the hearts and minds of average people and their leaders to build a better peace. The war wasn’t over but had simply morphed into another field of battle that involved neighbourliness, a rigorous sense of civic responsibility, a profound sense of social justice, and the belief that peace never came for free. Only this time the soldiers were being replaced by citizens of every kind who had come to see that the new tools of this civic battle involved decency, tolerance, a growing protection for minorities, and the profound belief that our blessings belonged to the world and not merely to ourselves. We had matured enough to know that we couldn’t save our world without changing it, and we couldn’t change it without changing ourselves.

Because this is a universal truth, frequently accentuated by a sense of trial and loss, the dead never leave us, the buried become a part of our consciousness. They are everywhere all at once and we are elevated by their memory. A death that follows great sacrifice makes you see everything in a different way – our eyes are wider and contain depth. We become changed people because, by honouring those that have passed before us in such a remarkable fashion, we ourselves can face death and refuse it our collective soul. Our time, our end, will come, but not now. And in the meantime we will embrace those it has taken from us in a way that leads to a better life. Those slain buried in military fields around the world are not decaying bodies, but seeds in the earth that will bring forth a new and noble life in each of us. Their death is not only our rebirth, but their own. And they will remain our constant companions.

Remembrance Day isn’t merely about remembering but actualizing what the dead have shown and given us. We wear poppies as a sign of our respect, but it is the millions of memories that we carry in us, unseen yet profound, that make us want to live as better people, more active citizens, more adept at love than hatred. Every Remembrance Day is our opportunity to say to that Guest that always shadows us, “Not dead. Not yet.” We have a world to build – a better environment than what we have at present, and we will construct it with peace.

Remembrance Day is not a memoriam alone, but a continuation of all that is truly the best and most respectful in life. It makes death bearable and makes our own lives liveable. We are the inheritors of a great trust and we will live for what they died for. David Kessler notes that, “Deep inside of us, each knows there is someone that we were meant to be.” Remembrance Day, filled with the love of those that went before, reminds us that that “someone” is still there, waiting and wanting to better the world with acts of great humanity and sacrifice.

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