It is too early to know if the government’s new commitment to “economic diplomacy” really marks a metamorphosis in how we deal with the rest of the world.
Columnist John Ibbitson of the Globe and Mail sees a “historic shift in Canada’s approach to the world.” Ibbitson has an eye for such seismic moments; he calls his latest book on Canada The Big Shift.
Like Ibbitson, the government claims that its Global Markets Action Plan — a leaden title only a bureaucrat could love — is a watershed.
“This new focus represents a sea change in the way Canada’s diplomatic assets are deployed around the world,” says Ed Fast, minister of international trade. “In so doing, we are ensuring that Canada’s long-term economic success becomes one of our priority foreign policy objectives.”
The point is to put trade and commerce at the heart of 91ԭ foreign policy. From now on, folks, it is about money, money, money. Canada? By our goods shall ye know us. This isn’t really new. Trade has long been a pillar of our foreign policy and we reaffirm it about every 10 years. To act otherwise would be malpractice for a country that relies on trade for 60 per cent of its gross domestic product.
But to see foreign policy as trade policy is misguided. It suggests that the national interest is solely a matter of dollars and cents. It suggests that other international ambitions — human rights, democracy, international development, environmental protection, nuclear proliferation, mass migration — are now secondary.
It also implies that Canada cannot run a foreign policy pursuing prosperity at home and pursuing peace and security abroad.
Embracing dollar diplomacy completes the transition of the Conservatives from a party that arrived in 2006 committed to human rights to a government that notes abuses selectively — and only in countries where we don’t have real commercial interests.
With this new celebration of global markets, like a seasonal mass, the reversal is now official: commerce trumps conscience. So it is with China, which Stephen Harper snubbed until business sternly warned him that Canada cannot alienate the world’s biggest market, whatever its abuses.
If commerce is now our holy grail, it runs counter to other impulses of Conservative foreign policy.
We have, for example, recently refused to align ourselves with the Americans, British, French and Germans on the interim nuclear agreement with Iran. For the first time in memory, we have broken with all of our big allies on a big issue of international peace.
We have, in recent years, also made a practice of reducing the tools of diplomacy, particularly in closing legations and selling off official residences. To the government, both are an extravagance.
Yet given Fast’s commitment to “harness” all of Canada’s “assets” in pursuit of commercial success, our view of Iran and our diplomatic assets are contradictory.
Traditionally, in collaborating with our allies in addressing war and peace, we bring soft assets of goodwill, loyalty and reliability. Traditionally, in selling our goods and services, we bring soft assets of experience, history and savoir-faire, and hard assets of a network of missions and seasoned envoys.
Let’s consider, then, the new policy’s costs and benefits, a language our accountants of envy in Ottawa understand.
First, if Canada’s biggest challenge in our relationship with the United States is persuading Barack Obama to approve the Keystone XL pipeline, why would we stand in the cheap seats and jeer its diplomatic breakthrough with Iran? Is that a way to endear yourself to your biggest customer?
Instead, why not ask Washington what we can do to persuade Israel to give this interim agreement a chance?
There may no linkage on Iran and Keystone, and our stature in Washington may be so diminished that the Americans may not even care what we think. But why poke them in the eye, as if Canada alone has cornered the market on skepticism on Iran?
Second, if your priority is to flog your goods and services, why would you sell your storied residences in Oslo, Copenhagen, Rome and other capitals where diplomacy is done and deals are closed? Why would you consign your pitchmen to the party room of your condo in the suburbs? Think your customers want to come there for poutine and ice wine?
No matter. We’re even more interested in making a point than making a sale.
Andrew Cohen is a professor of journalism and international affairs at Carleton University in Ottawa.