It was Georgiy Mamedov, you will remember, who responded tartly just last week to Justin Trudeau鈥檚 unfortunate speculation about Russia moving on Ukraine. Hearing Trudeau, Mamedov worked himself into a fine anger 鈥� a mix of incredulity and affront that Trudeau might imply something so unthinkable.
鈥淲hoever discusses rumours about Russian military intervention in Ukraine is committing an insult to the intellect of the 91原创 public, full stop,鈥� Mamedov said. 鈥淲hoever, whatever shape or form, political attribution, I don鈥檛 care. This is our position, and you will sort it out with Mr. Trudeau.鈥�
But now Mamedov might have to sort out a few things with our government, and with his, too. On the weekend, he was summoned to our foreign ministry to hear Ottawa鈥檚 displeasure. This is what nations do when they鈥檙e considering what to do.
鈥淵esterday, when I was returning from Kyiv, my deputy minister and associate deputy minister called in and demarched, in the strongest terms certainly in my time in Foreign Affairs, the [Russian] ambassador,鈥� John Baird reported. 鈥淲e strongly condemned the provocative actions of his country and President Putin.鈥�
鈥淒emarche,鈥� which the minister used as a verb, is a form of diplomatic protest. From Baird, to be 鈥渄emarched鈥� sounds like an indecent act, like being declawed, decapitated or defenestrated. Diplomatically speaking, that is what Canada will do if it decides to expel Mamedov, which remains among the options under consideration. Already, Canada has recalled its ambassador to Russia 鈥� another form of protest 鈥� although it is uncertain for how long.
Mamedov should be less worried about our government than his own. Here he is, one of the stars of the Russian diplomatic service, having negotiated the end to the war in Kosovo. Here he is, a doctor of history, fluent in foreign languages, a seasoned professional 鈥� and today he looks like a fool.
Of course, he鈥檚 not. But perhaps he was so removed from the thinking in Moscow that he believed what he said on Russia and Ukraine, when he could have said nothing at all. Or, if he knew that an invasion was coming, he was unable to find a less definitive 鈥� or more diplomatic 鈥� way to finesse it.
But let鈥檚 not be too hard on him. If he was unaware of Vladimir Putin鈥檚 plans, so was just about everyone else.
When the speculation began last week on whether Putin would act, expert after expert doubted he would. It just didn鈥檛 seem to make sense.
Only days after the Olympics? After spending $51 billion to rebrand post-Communist Russia and all the good will it would buy? With the Russian economy more vulnerable to shocks and sanctions than it was 20 years ago?
American intelligence was staggered. On Friday, just as reports were emerging that the Russians were entering Crimea, Anne Applebaum, the award-winning historian and columnist, noted there are other ways he could have undermined the new government of Ukraine. He could have imposed an economic boycott, pushing Ukraine into default. He could have cut off credit and, perhaps, the flow of Russia鈥檚 natural gas.
But he chose to use a sledgehammer to crack a peanut. No one knows what he will do next.
What we do know is that this is a man in control of his country with a lingering complaint about the loss of its empire, a pathology the West has always underestimated.
It was fine for us to ask for his help after Sept. 11, 2001, but fine as well for the Americans to cancel a nuclear-arms treaty and to push NATO and the EU to his borders. Now, we huff and puff about recalling our ambassadors and expelling Russia鈥檚, at the very time we need to talk more, not less.
The reality is that we did not know how our indifference to Russia鈥檚 complexities and insecurities would play out then, and we have no idea what the grim Putin will do now. Just ask Ambassador Mamedov.
Andrew Cohen is a professor of journalism and international affairs at Carleton University in Ottawa.
