Flippity-Flop
People get bored. They reach a pinnacle of success, look down, then up and decide they’ll reach outward toward another challenge. After all, if acclaim in one’s chosen field has been achieved, and sufficient confidence gained, other fields beckon. Once an intellectual, an academic, not always one. Yes, there is great respect accorded scholars. Their opinion sought, their insights respected, their values honoured. But the real power seems to lay in politics. Or should that be lie in politics? The two words seem to go together so complementarily; one wonders why.
And then, if you’ve been an academic whose speciality has been politics and human rights, it might seem a natural fit to divert one’s career trajectory into the field you’ve long examined and pontificated upon. Certainly there were some obstacles to Michael Ignatieff’s returning to Canada after such a long self-imposed absence, a haitus during which, in England and the United States he became a much-celebrated political pundit of the academic variety.
It takes some degree of belief in one’s self to suddenly veer off from one’s chosen path and determine to aspire through sheer force of will - aided and abetted by the high esteem one has garnered through academic credentials and a personality not shy of public utterances well received - to nothing less than the premier politician of the country to which you were born but have long been absent from. To vault oneself from the complacent comfort of the ivory tower into the confines of the Peace Tower in Ottawa.
But then, this is one dogmatically-determined man. So, without a scintilla of political experience, but with a trailer-load of ambition to achieve to the highest position of the land, he famously positioned himself within the Liberal Party as a candidate for election. Immodestly, not as a member of Parliament during an election, but as an aspirant to leader of the Liberal Party of Canada, challenging other high-flying prime-ministerial wannabees.
He almost did it, he had garnered what appeared to be the leading majority vote, but in the end, was foiled by a surprise up-the-back-alley comeuppance by a more legitimate aspirant to the throne. Now, as a firm supporter of Stephane Dion, he is still there, now an elected member of Parliament, awaiting opportunity to launch himself into another attempt. And in the process grooming himself still further for greater acceptability in a country that refused to fit itself into the U.S. scheme of invasion into Iraq.
On this grave issue, Professor Ignatieff was singing from a different hymnal than other Canadians. He was, he said, convinced that Saddam Hussein must be removed from power, a conclusion he reached after a trip to Iraq when he visited first-hand the destruction visited upon the Kurdish population. No mention that he believed the Bush administration’s contention that Saddam was complicit with al-Qaeda and involved in 9/11, building up another arsenal with which to attack the U.S.
Now, he is handily recanting, offering a great gulp of a mea culpa. His humanity simply got in the way of his reason. His compassion for the poor oppressed of Iraq confused him into acquiescing, even celebrating the invasion. Had he been in the world of politics, not in the world of academia, he might have decided otherwise, he now claims. As a politician, then, he would have discerned matters differently - particularly within Canada, where there was so much public resistance to joining the invasion, even at the cost of offending our near neighbour.
Now that’s reason over passion. Timely poll results do result in compelling decision-making.
But complaining in his New York Times Magazine essay that he was misunderstood, in that what he said publicly was taken too literally; that although what he said was clear, it was not quite what he meant, is a bit much. Re-inventing oneself for political advantage, taking into account the pulse of public sentiment is one thing, completely re-writing one’s personal performance on the record to produce a better fit as a candidate for high office is another.
Welcome to politics, the politics of convenience and cause-and-consequence: that learning curve passed with flying colours.
And then, if you’ve been an academic whose speciality has been politics and human rights, it might seem a natural fit to divert one’s career trajectory into the field you’ve long examined and pontificated upon. Certainly there were some obstacles to Michael Ignatieff’s returning to Canada after such a long self-imposed absence, a haitus during which, in England and the United States he became a much-celebrated political pundit of the academic variety.
It takes some degree of belief in one’s self to suddenly veer off from one’s chosen path and determine to aspire through sheer force of will - aided and abetted by the high esteem one has garnered through academic credentials and a personality not shy of public utterances well received - to nothing less than the premier politician of the country to which you were born but have long been absent from. To vault oneself from the complacent comfort of the ivory tower into the confines of the Peace Tower in Ottawa.
But then, this is one dogmatically-determined man. So, without a scintilla of political experience, but with a trailer-load of ambition to achieve to the highest position of the land, he famously positioned himself within the Liberal Party as a candidate for election. Immodestly, not as a member of Parliament during an election, but as an aspirant to leader of the Liberal Party of Canada, challenging other high-flying prime-ministerial wannabees.
He almost did it, he had garnered what appeared to be the leading majority vote, but in the end, was foiled by a surprise up-the-back-alley comeuppance by a more legitimate aspirant to the throne. Now, as a firm supporter of Stephane Dion, he is still there, now an elected member of Parliament, awaiting opportunity to launch himself into another attempt. And in the process grooming himself still further for greater acceptability in a country that refused to fit itself into the U.S. scheme of invasion into Iraq.
On this grave issue, Professor Ignatieff was singing from a different hymnal than other Canadians. He was, he said, convinced that Saddam Hussein must be removed from power, a conclusion he reached after a trip to Iraq when he visited first-hand the destruction visited upon the Kurdish population. No mention that he believed the Bush administration’s contention that Saddam was complicit with al-Qaeda and involved in 9/11, building up another arsenal with which to attack the U.S.
Now, he is handily recanting, offering a great gulp of a mea culpa. His humanity simply got in the way of his reason. His compassion for the poor oppressed of Iraq confused him into acquiescing, even celebrating the invasion. Had he been in the world of politics, not in the world of academia, he might have decided otherwise, he now claims. As a politician, then, he would have discerned matters differently - particularly within Canada, where there was so much public resistance to joining the invasion, even at the cost of offending our near neighbour.
Now that’s reason over passion. Timely poll results do result in compelling decision-making.
But complaining in his New York Times Magazine essay that he was misunderstood, in that what he said publicly was taken too literally; that although what he said was clear, it was not quite what he meant, is a bit much. Re-inventing oneself for political advantage, taking into account the pulse of public sentiment is one thing, completely re-writing one’s personal performance on the record to produce a better fit as a candidate for high office is another.
Welcome to politics, the politics of convenience and cause-and-consequence: that learning curve passed with flying colours.
Labels: Human Fallibility, Life's Like That, Politics of Convenience
posted by Pieface | 12:31 PM
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