The crisis du jour is that the Canadian Forces were apparently asked to protect Minister of Defence Peter MacKay after news broke about an inappropriate use of a search and rescue helicopter.  Once again, it is not the crime but the effort to ameliorate if not cover up the crime.  Getting a ride on a military helicopter is mildly controversial, but not a very big deal.  But getting the military to be involved in politics by seeking to find information about similar rides by opposition members is very much a big deal.  The former can almost be seen as a perk of higher office—questionable but not too problematic.  Relying on the military to rat out opposition politicians violates a cardinal tenet of civil-military relations in advanced democracies—the military is to stay out of disputes between politicians.

Yes, militaries do get involved in politics even in advanced democracies, mostly to protect their budgets, their preferred weapons systems, and their autonomy.  We see this now as military budgets contract in the U.K., U.S. and elsewhere.  This might violate some people’s ideas of what is acceptable, the reality is that this is considered normal behaviour.  Opposition research is not normal behaviour.  Far from it.

Who is responsible for this breach?  Both members of the Ministry who asked the military to do the research and the officers who agreed to do it, but the blame lies more on the civilian side in this one.  If the reports are accurate, the investigation was at the request of the civilians so they should feel the brunt of the new controversy.  The officers could have said no and almost certainly should have declined to investigate.  There is no obligation to follow an unlawful order, although it may have been unclear that doing some research was tantamount to violating the law.  The enthusiasm reported in the news story suggests that the Canadian Forces need to take a hard look at themselves—that supporting their Minister against the domestic opposition is not their role.  Supporting their Minister as he prepares to meet with Chinese, American, Dutch or Russian officials is their job.  There is a big bright shiny line between the two activities, and they need to remember not to cross it, even if the Defence Minister is facing criticism that they feel is unwarranted. 

Again, the crisis is not about Defence Minister stretching the rules to fly on a helicopter, but relying on the military to find information to undermine the opposition’s criticism of the minister.  The best way to insure accountability is to punish the civilians who asked the officers to go beyond their appropriate rule, and the officers involved should be admonished.

Photo courtesy Reuters.

Consider productivity. According to the U.S. Conference Board, China’s productivity growth was the world’s highest last year at 8.7 per cent – a position it’s held since the mid-1990s. In comparison, productivity grew by just three per cent in rich countries in 2010, and will likely come in at 1.6 per cent in 2011. A recent New York Times article describes how, when Apple needed to quickly re-engineer its iPhone screens, it inevitably turned to Chinese factories because none in the U.S. could meet the necessary turn-around time:

New screens began arriving at the plant at midnight. A foreman immediately roused 8,000 workers inside the company’s dormitories. Each employee was given a biscuit and a cup of tea, guided to a workstation and within half an hour started a 12-hour shift fitting glass screens into bevelled frames. Within 96 hours, the plant was producing over 10,000 iPhones a day.

A similar story could be told about almost any company outsourcing manufacturing to China.

The U.S. still tops the productivity league table. But it’s competing against Chinese workers who are paid a fraction of what American workers are paid but whose productivity is getting closer and closer to U.S. levels – and, in some cases, exceeding them. The average Chinese manufacturing wage is $3.10 per hour – one-seventh of the $22.50-per-hour average in the United States. A Chinese engineer costs one-third his American counterpart. These basic competitive advantages explain why China was the second-biggest recipient of foreign investment last year – not just in labour-intensive sectors, but also increasingly in high-tech industries and services. The main competition for the U.S. comes not from China’s “state-capitalism,” but from American multinationals – Apple, GE, AT&T, General Motors, Merck, Coca Cola, P&G – that increasingly chase global growth by “outsourcing” production to China, and which, by building factories, transferring technology, and linking China to foreign markets, are further boosting Chinese productivity. The biggest “exporter” to the U.S., for example, is Wal-Mart and its suppliers. Caterpillar, a relative latecomer to the Chinese market, now has three of its four global research facilities in China, and its highest-quality equipment is no longer “Made in the U.S.A.” or even “Made in Japan,” but “Made in China.”

Consider education. The Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development’s (OECD) latest Programme for International Student Assessment results, a comparison of worldwide education standards, placed Chinese high-school students on top in every category, while the U.S. ranked 17th out of 43 countries in reading, 23rd in science, and lower still in math. None of this would surprise anyone who’s spent time in China, where family and state alike place huge emphasis on education, and where schools and universities are teeming with bright, competitive, and exceptionally hard-working students. Nor would the OECD results surprise anyone familiar with the state of the education system in the U.S., where decaying urban public schools – with their drug tests, metal detectors, dispirited teachers, and near-50-per-cent drop-out rates – can resemble penitentiaries more than places of learning. The Obama administration has quietly dropped the goal, under the “No Child Left Behind” initiative, that all students be proficient in reading and math by 2014, because tens of thousands can’t meet it. The U.S. Education Department recently offered the shocking statistic that 32 million Americans – one in seven adults – are illiterate.

The U.S. finds consolation in the fact that its elite universities are still the world’s best, and that it continues to lead in technological innovation. But for how long? Two-thirds of the 8,000 PhD engineers who graduated from U.S. universities last year were foreigners (mostly Chinese and Indian), the majority of whom were denied the opportunity to work in the U.S. – and thus “repay” the U.S.’s investment in their education – because of protectionist U.S. immigration laws. Meanwhile, Chinese universities graduated half a million engineers, scientists, and technologists last year – a figure that, even if officially exaggerated, easily dwarfs numbers in the U.S., where engineering and science enrolment has declined steadily since the mid-1980s, as more and more top students pursue business studies and the riches of banking or consulting careers. Almost half of Harvard’s 2007 graduating class, for example, ended up on Wall Street. Not surprisingly, U.S. international patent filings dropped from 51,000 to 45,000 between 2006 and 2010, while China’s filings tripled from 4,000 to over 12,000.

Consider scale. Although the U.S. has faced fierce competition from “newly industrializing” economies before – think Japan, Korea, Singapore, Taiwan – what’s different this time is the sheer scale of the Chinese colossus and the speed of its transformation. China’s economy has grown at a rate of 10 per cent a year – without interruption – for the past three decades, a scale of industrialization that has never been seen before, and that will never be seen again. Giants India, Indonesia, and Brazil are not far behind. But while China’s per-capita income has grown an astonishing 12-fold since 1980, it’s still only a tenth of U.S. levels – roughly where the U.S. was a century ago – illustrating the enormous potential for catch-up. China is already the world’s second-biggest economy, and its biggest exporter, car market, and consumer of grain, meat, coal, copper, and steel. And its “great leap forward” is just beginning. A fitting symbol of China’s vast industrial machine is the Foxconn factory in Shenzhen – aptly named “Foxconn City” – within whose walls almost half a million people work, and a quarter of a million live.

Does China cheat? No question. As does almost every other country – whether it’s promoting “strategic technologies,” “safe domestic banks,” “cultural industries,” “family farms,” or “buy American” products. But cheating is not the main reason China is succeeding so spectacularly. Any visitor to China cannot help but be struck (and even shocked) by the extraordinary work ethic, raw competition, and single-minded drive for material advancement, and not come away with a clear picture of why the country is booming. Just as unsettling is the mirror China holds up to us. The world was once in awe of the West for the same reasons we are now in awe of China – and many of the same values that underpin China’s current success also made the West great (Max Weber labelled it the Protestant work ethic). But today, the rest of the world is more likely to view the U.S. and Europe as geriatric economies destined to fade. When European officials approached China last year to contribute to the euro’s bailout, the chairman of the China Investment Corporation dismissed European workers as “indolent” and “slothful,” more concerned with “languishing on beaches,” and refused to consider rescuing Europe until it reformed its “worn out” labour laws and welfare state.

The good news is that – if history is any guide – China’s competitive edge cannot last forever. Its single-minded focus on making existing products more cheaply – at low-wages, with borrowed technology, in mass factories – is ideally suited to the catch-up phase of economic development. It’s less clear that China is well placed to innovate on its own, to invent the next iPhone or Adele. Besides, Chinese wages are gradually rising, inflation is eating away at its currency edge, and workers are beginning to demand a greater share of the fruits of their labour. One day, China may well resemble France – with a 35-hour work week, two-hour lunch breaks, and month-long congés d’étè on the Riviera. Until then, however, the West should get used to being in second place.

Photo courtesy of Reuters

The fiscal crises facing most advanced democracies have meant countries are having second and third thoughts. The U.S. is changing the pace of deliveries and probably the size of its order.  Australia has already faced the music, deciding to buy planes that will be available sooner, and opting to purchase fewer F-35s down the road. Italy and Turkey have cut their buys, the U.K. is dithering, and the Dutch are pondering. Because the price per plane depends on how many are purchased, the decisions of these other countries impact the Canadian purchase. Yet MacKay (actually Prime Minister Stephen Harper) has refused to reconsider the decision.

It is almost as if thinking is weakness. This purchase is incredibly expensive and will ultimately crowd out spending on other defence systems since Canada has a limited taste for such spending.  There are trade-offs that Canadian leaders seem to be ignoring. I have often challenged my students with the following question: If you can only afford two modern branches of the military – land, sea, or air – which ones do you choose? It is a tough question, but we must confront it at some point. 

While there is much criticism in the U.S. for the choices the Obama administration is making in the face of spending restrictions, the U.S. government is at least giving some consideration to the threats that face the country, and the requirements to meet those threats. As a result, the U.S. is keeping most of its navy intact but cutting its army and the Marines since the country will be focusing on deterring wars with China and not so much on long, gruelling counter-insurgency campaigns.

The question for Canada today, tomorrow, and down the road is this: What are the Canadian Forces for? Militaries have two basic purposes for advanced democracies: security and influence.  One buys armed forces to defend the country and/or to exert influence in the world. The difficult thing for Canada is that what is best for one purpose may not be best for the other. That is, as a country with a lot of coastline and only distant threats, modernizing the Royal Canadian Air Force and the Royal Canadian Navy makes a great deal of sense. If that is the priority, then Canada should significantly reduce its army. Funding a modern army at the same time it is funding the rest of the Forces is simply too expensive for Canada given current fiscal patterns. 

On the other hand, whatever Canada buys to protect its seas and airspace is probably going to be insufficient to thwart the biggest threats – the U.S. or Russia. Obviously, the alliance with the U.S. will continue, so Canada could, and almost certainly will, rely upon the much larger U.S. capabilities to defend North America. Instead of focusing on threats, Canada could design an armed force to maximize its influence, by  providing added value in multilateral military efforts (since Canada will not have enough of everything to operate on its own, except perhaps in the Caribbean).

What kind of Canadian Forces would provide the most influence in alliance or coalition efforts? The Libyan and Kosovo efforts suggest that having advanced, interoperable aircraft would give Canada an important role in allied efforts. Afghanistan demonstrated that the key capability for “punching above one’s weight” is a flexible, adaptable army. Canada’s willingness to serve and fight in the hardest parts of Afghanistan gave it influence not just over operations in Afghanistan, but also at NATO headquarters. Indeed, the Afghan effort almost certainly led to Canada having a leading role in the Libyan operation with Lt. General Bouchard as the operational commander. 

Back to the trade-off: In the future, Canada can pay for either a major role in its own security via investing in the RCAF and RCN or it can exert influence when it provides a significant contribution to alliance efforts. But trying to do both will probably mean being inadequate at both, which is what happened in 2006 when Canada sent its land staff into Kandahar without any helicopters while its submarines remained in dry dock.

Canada is not locked into buying the F-35 despite its leadership’s assertions and behaviour. It is not too late to consider the trade-offs – that making this decision will mean that there will be less money for the land staff. That is OK as long as politicians realize this means Canada will be less able, or perhaps unable, to contribute to efforts where there must be boots on the ground. The choices of today will constrain the decision-makers of tomorrow. 

Photo courtesy of Reuters

The first years of the current government did not bring improvements in economic relations.  In some sectors, Canadian companies themselves built growing momentum.  But it was questionable whether government had taken any steps that fudamentally strengthened commercial ties with China. 

Whereas we once were in the top-10 of China’s trading partners (in the 1980s), by the mid 1990s we had fallen behind not only Australia, but also the Italies of the world.  Sure, the Chinese market mattered to us, with China rounding into our number two trading partner (behind only the US, where we have natural geographical complementarities).

But for the Chinese, we were falling on the radar.  Relative to our competitors.

The more recent exceptions have been, of course, in the energy and natural resource sectors, where they have been coming to us due to their own surging demand for inputs.  But other than in select areas of financial services, the self-driven educational sector, and maybe in transport, the story overall was not onwards and upwards.

For the first four years of the Harper government relations cooled and much of the chatter was over the lack of a Prime Ministerial visit to China.  But PM visits can only do so much.  The hard part is having a sustainable impact after Team Canada leaves Chinese soil.

The Foreign Investment Promotion and Protection Agreement that was just signed in Beijing is momentous and important.  It was 18 years in coming…

By concluding the Agreement yesterday, Canadians have gained the opportunity to lift the relationship with China, and Asia, to a higher level. 

The Agreement will help to create the “stable” investment climate that Chinese Premier Wen Jiabao was calling for, at the start of the PM visit.  

The likely result to follow will be more Chinese investment into Canada in the energy sector, and in other sectors as well.

This brings both challenges and opportunities for Canada. We need to think through what the Agreement could mean for our relations with China and Asia. And also with the U.S. 

We are higher on the radar again. 

Now, we need to make sure that we’re ready.

Photo courtesy Reuters.

Yesterday, almost a year later, the council was the scene of tension and discord, rather than consensus. In a show of defiance, Russia and China both exercised their vetoes to block passage of a resolution sponsored by western and Arab states, designed to address the ongoing carnage in Syria (the final vote tally was 13 to two). Amid the recrimination that followed, U.S. Ambassador to the UN Susan Rice dropped any pretense of diplomatic courtesy and claimed that she was “disgusted” by the Russian and Chinese decision. “For months this Council has been held hostage by a couple of members,” she said. “Any further bloodshed that flows will be on their hands.” The British permanent representative to New York, Mark Lyall Grant, echoed this sentiment: “Russia and China have turned their backs on the Arab world to support tyranny.”

On the face of it, there seemed to be very little in this resolution to justify the controversial step of wielding a veto. The resolution was in many respects mirroring the language of a previous statement by the League of Arab States, and endorsed that body’s efforts to bring about a “Syrian-led political transition to a democratic, plural political system.” Earlier drafts of the text had been substantially watered down, stripping from it any calls for Syrian President Bashar al-Assad to step down and any reference to the use of force. Indeed, the draft that was put to a vote went out of its way to clarify that only peaceful measures were being considered, stating that nothing in the resolution authorized measures under Article 42 of the Charter (the section that invokes the council’s powers to mandate force). Russia’s worries about an arms embargo were also assuaged (important for Moscow, as it is the main arms supplier to Damascus), as this measure, too, was also negotiated away.

But two Russian objections remained. First, though the text demanded that all parties in Syria, including armed groups, immediately cease violence, it also explicitly requested that government troops return to their barracks. Second, the resolution failed to identify opposition activists in Syria as partially to blame for the violence and instability. According to Russian Ambassador to the UN, Vitaly Churkin, these two elements sent an “unbalanced message” to those inside Syria. This aversion to choosing sides was echoed by the Chinese permanent representative, Li Baodong, who claimed that the draft resolution had put “undue emphasis” on pressuring the Syrian authorities and risked prejudicing the result of any national dialogue. 

So what is going on here? It is difficult to fully explain this showdown in the council without understanding the impact of the council’s second resolution with respect to Libya, Resolution 1973 (passed on March 17, 2011). This resolution, which authorized the imposition of a no-fly zone over Libya, did not receive unanimous support from the council – it passed with five abstentions (two of which came from Russia and China). At the time, Russia voiced its preference for a ceasefire and political negotiation, as it worried that any use of military force might make the situation on the ground even worse. China also reluctantly abstained, rather than vetoed, articulating unease about what the real endgame in Libya might be and stressing the importance of respecting Libya’s sovereignty and territorial integrity. Hence, while Resolution 1973 received a green light, it was not (as some have suggested) the shining moment in which the international community rallied around the principle of the “responsibility to protect” (R2P). 

Once NATO’s military campaign began, and a no-fly zone to protect civilians morphed into overt assistance for regime change, the muted concerns of these two permanent members of the council turned into full-scale buyers’ remorse. Authorization for a limited mission to protect civilians had been (in their view) illegitimately stretched – under the banner of R2P – to enable the over-throw of the government of a sovereign state. Mindful of this possibility, Russia and China – in collaboration with other skeptical states, such as Brazil and India – have vowed to “never again” provide an opening like that contained in Resolution 1973.  In fact, during the autumn of 2011, the Brazilian delegation to the UN circulated a proposal called “Responsibility while Protecting,” which was designed to: emphasize the international community’s non-military options for exercising R2P; limit the recourse to military force as a “last resort” in any crisis; and ensure that those carrying out any council-authorized military mission abide by the strict terms of the mandate (a coded rebuke to NATO). 

Above all, the post-Libya period of “buyers’ remorse” reminded both supporters and skeptics of R2P of exactly what had been agreed to in 2005, when member states endorsed the principle at the anniversary summit of the UN. Article 139 of the Summit Outcome Document does not necessarily create any new rights or duties with respect to R2P. Instead, it identifies the Security Council – and the messy and political dynamics that occur within that body – as “primary” when any coercive actions by the international community to address atrocity crimes are being considered. It also states clearly that the council will consider such situations on a ‘case by case’ basis, and not be guided by any explicit doctrine. In short, it is inevitable – even acceptable? – that the Council will act inconsistently.

The council’s stalemate over Syria, then, is telling for three reasons. First, the draft resolution made no mention of R2P. Sensitivities over this principle made it virtually impossible for western states to incorporate such language. While French Foreign Minister Alain Juppe called the recent attack in Homs a “crime against humanity,” the Syrian government has managed to convince the Russians and Chinese (and potentially others) that what is occurring inside the country is a battle against foreign-aided insurgents. Even without mention of R2P, the intended purpose of the resolution – to protect civilians – seemed a step too far.

Second, this episode shows that powerful members of the council are not merely uncomfortable with contemplating coercive measures with respect to events in Syria, but are also uncomfortable with any hint of taking sides (even when powerful regional actors are asking them to). The council’s shift away from impartiality, so evident in Côte D’Ivoire and Libya, is being “corrected” by those who see themselves as the guardians of how the UN should approach conflicts inside sovereign states.

The third and final lesson is that states that disagree with this kind of retrenchment are willing to call Russia and China’s bluff. It wasn’t clear, even late in the day, whether the draft resolution would be put to a vote. But in the end, western and Arab states took the view that it was better to isolate the opponents of the proposed political process rather than continue to concede on significant points. Though Russian diplomats warned that forcing a vote would lead to a scandal, the German ambassador to the UN, Peter Wittig, retorted that the greater scandal “is not to act.” Arguably, it may be better for the legitimacy of the council if spoilers are exposed, and reasons for votes in favour and against are aired in public.

Yes, the council has been sidelined. As the Russian ambassador quipped, it “is not the only diplomatic tool on the planet.” But it’s hard to see how a Russian-inspired mediation will have the same level of legitimacy as what the Arab League was contemplating. The question now arises, of course, as to whether there will be further attempts to act through the UN as the crisis continues or whether the supporters of the defeated resolution, in their efforts to ratchet up the pressure on Assad, are willing to act outside it.

Photo courtesy Reuters.

Imagine a split-screen image. On one side is Vic Toews, Canada’s minister of public safety, testifying Wednesday before a Senate committee on the government’s omnibus crime bill.

During the 2011 election campaign, the Conservatives promised to make Canada a place where “law abiding” folks “don’t have to worry when they go to bed at night; where they don’t have to look over their shoulders as they walk down the street.” However, the tough-on-crime agenda ran into an awkward fact: Canada’s crime rate had been falling for years. According to Statistics Canada, police-reported crime continued declining in 2010 (the most recent year for which statistics are available), and reached its lowest level since 1973.

Faced with this inconvenient truth, last week, Minister Toews advised the Senate committee that he didn’t know if crime was up or down. “Let’s not talk about statistics, let’s talk about danger,” he said. It was a remarkable pronouncement. He might as well have said: “We know Canadians hear reports of crime and have a vague sense of menace. By focusing on ‘danger’ instead of facts, I am speaking directly to their concerns. They know what I mean.”

Let’s be clear: This is a strategy of fostering and exploiting misplaced public fears about an imagined mounting crime rate. It is a cynical and wrong strategy. It’s factually wrong, it’s ethically wrong, and it’s destined to produce the wrong kind of policies – ones based on fictitious trends and distorted portraits of actual risk.

Now, please turn your attention to the other side of our split screen, where Foreign Minister John Baird is completing a three-day visit to Israel. He is making comments on Iran, a country that both he and Prime Minister Stephen Harper have described as the “world’s most serious threat to international peace.”

They are right to be concerned. The International Atomic Energy Agency still lacks definitive evidence of an Iranian nuclear-weapons program, but there is more than enough circumstantial evidence to warrant the aggressive diplomatic and economic squeeze that Canada and other western countries are putting on that country. As I’ve written previously, any proliferation of weapons of mass destruction is bad news –and there are few more odious regimes in the world than the one that has ruled Iran since the Islamic Revolution of 1979.

In January, however, the prime minister made some surprising comments. In two separate interviews, he said not only that Iran was seeking nuclear weapons, but also that the country’s rulers would have “no hesitation of using nuclear weapons if they see them achieving their religious or political purposes.”

This was a problematic claim for two reasons. First, the idea that Iranian leaders wouldn’t hesitate to use nuclear weapons flies in the face of what we know about the behaviour of the Iranian regime. For all their revolutionary jihadist talk, the country’s ruling mullahs have consistently worked to realize one goal above all others: keeping themselves in power.

Second, expressing this dubious position in public had important implications for policy. If the Iranian government is indeed suicidal, a pre-emptive attack may be warranted, and perhaps even required. No one knows what the effects of such a strike might be – whether it would inflame the broader region, or, indeed, whether it would have any lasting impact on Iran’s nuclear potential. For these reasons, the Obama administration –while refusing to rule out the possibility of military action against Iran – has reportedly informed Israel that it would not support such a strike.

This is the context in which Harper has opined on the suicidal intentions of the Iranian regime. In making this assertion, the prime minister was, in effect, weighing into a domestic Israeli debate (between those who favour a pre-emptive military strike and those who prefer restraint) and a growing diplomatic divide between Israel and the U.S. over the nature of the Iranian threat and how to respond to it. Why else, other than to influence this debate, or to prepare Canadian public opinion for a more aggressive Canadian policy towards Iran, would Harper utter these remarks at such a delicate moment? 

Maybe he was just musing aloud, I thought at the time. But it turns out he wasn’t. Back on the split screen, John Baird is speaking to an Israeli newspaper reporter last week. “I believe Iran will use nuclear weapons,” he says, making the point in even blunter language than the prime minister did. This contention now appears to be a “key message” for the government, a part of its communications strategy, which means we are likely to hear it repeated at every opportunity, until it becomes so familiar that ordinary listeners begin to take its veracity for granted.

Yet it is also a position that most experts on Iran would judge as dubious at best. This may be the reason no NATO country other than Canada, to my knowledge, has made such a bold and questionable assertion. Indeed, it is especially jarring at a moment when our closest ally, the United States, is counselling restraint.

I know the prime minister does not care that Canada is out of step with its allies – that he takes pride in taking stands on principle, and in the fact that his government will not “go along to get along.” In this case, however, his “principle” is really just idiosyncratic speculation – and dangerously provocative speculation at that.

Now, zoom out. The two parts of our split screen are actually mirror images of sorts. Threat inflation has become a defining characteristic of the Harper government’s policy, both at home and abroad. Welcome to the new Canada.

 Photo courtesy Reuters.

Call me a sucker for punishment, but I believe we actually do need to review foreign policy, and much better than we have in the past. Burney and Osler Hampson’s argument that Canada has engaged in strategic reviews more than any other country of “comparable size” needs greater scrutiny. Prior to 2005, when the Martin government issued its International Policy Statement (full disclosure: I was actively involved in producing this statement), Canada had not formally reviewed its foreign policy for a decade. Is this the definition of “frequent,” especially when the intervening events (like 9/11) and power shifts between 1995 and 2005 created critical new imperatives for our foreign policy?

I couldn’t agree more with the critique that Canada needs to focus on doing – rather than “promising to do.” But unless foreign policy is to be wholly reactive (and I’m not suggesting that it often isn’t, particularly when unforeseen events like tsunamis and revolutions occur), then it must be guided by a set of priorities and assumptions. Given how much money is at stake – across a variety of federal government departments – why shouldn’t these priorities and assumptions be made transparent? Moreover, why shouldn’t they guide the tough decisions about resources and effort that political leaders and civil servants will need to make? Burney and Osler Hampson write that future global involvement for Canada “should be calibrated against judicious assessment of our capacities and our interests, and not a Boy Scout inclination to be helpful fixers everywhere.” While I largely agree with this point of view, I don’t see how such judicious judgments can be made without a strategic direction.

Several of Canada’s core allies, like the United States, regularly issue National Security Strategies. The Bush Administration’s NSS of 2002 was a landmark document, signaling to countries the world over that the U.S. was taking a much more muscular and pre-emptive approach toward threats to its most sacred interests and values, and re-orienting the vast American government towards realizing those goals. Though Canada clearly isn’t a superpower, and shouldn’t inflate what it can do globally, it has the same obligation to think strategically, and to develop the ability and “culture” (as Irvin Studin has suggested) to set up and operationalize a set of priorities. (I’m not suggesting for a moment, by the way, that Canada should match in tone or substance the U.S. National Security Strategies – only that it should subject itself to the same discipline of analyzing the strategic environment, identifying opportunities, clarifying interests, setting priorities, and assessing capability gaps.)  

Underpinning much of the skepticism about conducting foreign policy reviews is the sentiment that “we already know what our real interests are,” and that we simply need to get busy with promoting and safeguarding them. But we need to question that assumption. The national interest is not so obvious and immutable. It involves some constant features, but how it is articulated can – reasonably – vary. Beyond saying that Canada should pursue greater prosperity and security (who could really argue with that?), what are the concrete priorities our country should be identifying? Burney and Osler Hampson claim that the pre-eminent focus on the U.S. is self-evident and beyond serious debate.  The U.S. is our most important economic partner, period. And on the political side, we have influence in the world on the basis of how well we influence our big neighbour to the south.

Without wishing to minimize the relationship with Canada’s crucial ally, I respectfully submit that these “truths” are not so self-evident. A number of commentators have been contending for some time that Canada should diversify and build new economic relationships. A decade ago, we were still being branded as Trudeau-esque “Third Option” advocates, though that argument is starting to run a little thin, given the rise of China, India and Brazil (not to mention others). It is astounding that the Harper government’s draft FPP was amended to call for a new engagement strategy with Asia only after the Obama administration signaled that it was going to delay a decision on the Keystone Pipeline project. This is the epitome of short-termism – not strategic thinking. Economic and demographic trends have pointed for at least two decades to a need for Canada to think truly globally, and for its businesspeople to stop kidding themselves that expansion into the U.S. is a “global” strategy.

Let’s focus for a moment on the energy data. Recent projections from British Petroleum’s chief economist show that the U.S. is on a clear path that will greatly reduce its demand for oil imports. (Indeed, these estimates show that North America will become almost totally self-sufficient in energy within two decades, due to biofuels, shale gas, and unconventional oil.) In the United States, the use of hydraulic fracturing technology has allowed it to release huge reserves of unconventional shale gas – meaning that it will soon become a net exporter of gas. Now that same technology is being applied to shale oil, with dramatic implications for domestic crude output. Of course, Canada will continue to be the key source of any imports the U.S. does need. But in relative terms, markets elsewhere are much more promising. By 2020, China will need to import 80 per cent of its oil and more than 40 per cent of its gas.

Politically, it’s also debatable whether Canada should seek to have influence solely via the U.S. Yes, we will engage in many initiatives together – as we did in Libya. And yes, the values we believe are the recipe for stable societies (democracy, the rule of law, respect for minority rights) are virtually the same as those guiding U.S. foreign policy – a fact many Canadians would like to ignore. But on many crucial issues, such as nuclear non-proliferation, a U.S-focused diplomatic strategy will not yield results. China and India are nuclear powers too, which demonstrates that the imperative to “engage” with these rising powers has to move beyond the minimal objective of tapping into their markets. Thankfully, the Harper government has begun to think about other bilateral relationships that will matter to our prosperity and security – though the current version of the FPP identifies 12 countries as priorities (a sign that we need further focus in terms of where to put our energies).  

Foreign policy reviews, like that of 2005, do involve a bit of navel-gazing. And the result of the Martin review process could have been better. While the final draft was in the respectable range of 30 pages (compared to the behemoth draft we started with!), it still had too many priorities. It was also too timid in its approach to issues like the environment. But the exercise prompted serious debate about choices – and it allowed politicians, civil servants, and the public to engage in that debate.

Three of the four key themes of the emerging Foreign Policy Plan are expressly political: fostering democracy, standing up for human rights, and promoting religious freedom. These are strong, almost “fighting” words. They also don’t provide any answers to how those goals might be pursued. (Europeans and George W. Bush-era Americans, for example, had quite different version of how to democratize.) If Prime Minister Harper wants to take Canada down a road that is more consciously driven by values (and a particular set of values), then the direction of that road should be subjected to rigorous discussion across government, and with Canadians.  That, for better or for worse, is what accountability means.

Photo courtesy Reuters.

Harper is right to be concerned about the possibility of Tehran acquiring nuclear weapons. Any proliferation of weapons of mass destruction is bad news, and there are few more odious regimes in the world than the one that has ruled Iran since the Islamic Revolution of 1979.

But is he justified in saying that Iran would have “no hesitation of using nuclear weapons if they see them achieving their religious or political purposes”?

This is an important point. If Harper is correct, virtually all measures, up to and including a military attack on Iran, might be warranted, or perhaps even required, to prevent that country from building such weapons.

The problem, however, is that the prime minister’s assessment flies in the face of what we know about the behaviour of the Iranian regime. For all their revolutionary jihadist talk, Iran’s ruling mullahs have consistently worked to realize one goal above all others: keeping themselves in power.

There are 4 uses for nukes. Which one motivates Iran?

Yes, Iran’s leaders have made the most repugnant and threatening statements about Israel, and it’s an open secret that they support organizations that use terrorist tactics, including Hezbollah and Hamas. But the regime shows no sign of being suicidal itself, which is what Harper is suggesting when he says the country’s leaders would “not hesitate” to use nuclear weapons. Most experts who watch Iran reject the assumption that its leaders would bring about their own certain destruction in this manner.

On the other hand, this is not a reason to be complacent about the Iranian nuclear program. It is genuinely worrying that Iran seems bent on developing such weapons, or at least the capability to build them. Although the International Atomic Energy Agency still lacks definitive evidence of a nuclear weapons program, there is more than enough circumstantial evidence to warrant the aggressive diplomatic and economic squeeze that Canada and other western countries are putting on Iran – provided it is also combined with creative diplomacy that gives Iran a way out, should it choose to take it.

The question, however, is how far we might be willing to go in stopping such a program, if and when hard evidence emerges that Iran is close to building a functioning, deliverable nuclear device. If misperceptions about Iranian behaviour inform our answer to this question – if we succumb to fears based on caricatures, rather than facts – we risk making terrible strategic mistakes.

Some might say: How can we afford to wait much longer before considering preemptive military action to avert this looming threat? We’ve heard versions of this argument from candidates for the Republican presidential nomination and from some conservative American commentators, among others.

But exactly how would such an intervention work? Could bombing, alone, really stop – or even significantly delay – Iran’s nuclear efforts? Would a limited attack not serve to strengthen the Iranian leadership’s domestic power? Might it not also reinforce the regime’s commitment to acquire nuclear weapons as a deterrent against future attacks? What if outside intervention inflamed the entire region? What if it bogged down into another grinding war of occupation?

Let’s also recall that former U.S. president George W. Bush, in responding to concerns about the case for attacking Iraq, used some of the same arguments we are hearing today. “Facing clear evidence of peril,” he said in 2002, just months before the U.S. invaded Iraq, “we cannot wait for the final proof, the smoking gun that could come in the form of a mushroom cloud.” Unfortunately, this frightful yet unfounded message, which went largely unchallenged by some of the country’s most respected media organizations, resonated with a great many Americans.

It should go without saying that political leaders need to be very cautious when they invoke nightmare visions of nuclear catastrophe. Few rhetorical tools are more powerful, or have more potential to mobilize public passions, than allusions to possible mass destruction. That’s why we need to subject these claims to extra-close scrutiny.

Harper acknowledges that he is frightened by Iran. So am I – and so are many others. But at this critical time, as tensions mount between Iran and the West, our prime minister needs to keep a level head. He should step back from the rhetorical brink.

Photo courtesy Reuters.

The fine details of this shift in doctrine will only emerge with the U.S. budget next month, when actual troop reductions will be specified. Nonetheless, there is a clear expectation of a 10-to-15-per-cent cut to the size of the U.S. Army and Marine Corps, and an increased reliance on the Air Force and Navy. Many commentators will therefore ask whether, under this revised scenario, the U.S. will still be able to sustain its capacity to fight two wars at once – long held to be the defining feature of its superpower status. But while the forecasted reduction in troops is significant – estimated to be worth $450 billion – it still leaves the United States with the largest military in the world (and one that is roughly the same size as it was five years ago). What emerges, then, is a U.S. that is undoubtedly leaner, but still “mean” enough to intimidate its rivals.

It would be easy to chalk most of this up to financial pressures. But the president’s new strategy also reflects a different understanding of his country’s place in the world, and the most significant threats it is likely to face. No surprise, then, that the focus has shifted to addressing threats in the Asia-Pacific (a veiled reference to China’s growing strength) and ensuring the capacity to deter troublesome states such as Iran. This specification of geographic priorities is not unprecedented, but it nevertheless suggests that the U.S. can no longer commit itself to general global “projects” – instead, it must choose its spots with care, based on the degree to which they constitute a threat to vital interests. As a result, much less weight is given to the task of nation-building in so-called failed states – something then-president George W. Bush vowed, in 2000, that he would never do, yet spent most of his presidency doing.

Is this 2012 doctrine confirmation that America, the mighty, has well and truly fallen? Obama’s Republican rivals have been quick to suggest that the new strategy sends the wrong message to the U.S.’s enemies, and will only embolden them. In their view, it relegates the U.S. to a permanent posture of “leading from behind.”

 An alternative assessment is that a leaner and more agile U.S. military is precisely what is required to ensure the U.S.’s pre-eminence post Iraq and Afghanistan. The United States is finally admitting that it must be much more careful about engaging in “wars of choice” (both in financial terms and in terms of reputation). But no one should underestimate its capability and willingness to tackle the most pressing threats to its security – when and where it chooses.

Photo courtesy Reuters.

Al-Dabi reported this past week that he had seen “nothing frightening” in the embattled Syrian city of Homs. Yet, if the reports can be taken as accurate, 150 more protesters have been killed on Syria’s streets since the observers arrived. Even the advisory committee to the Arab League has opined that the monitors come home.

So how are we to judge the effectiveness of this effort to change the behaviour of the Syrian government? If we use short-term measures, we might conclude that the observers’ success in facilitating the delivery of food supplies and the removal of dead protesters has had some concrete, positive effect. It’s also likely that the presence of a mission from the outside world has emboldened the protest movement, and given it hope.

But in the longer term, as the International Crisis Group’s Peter Harling recently argued on BBC Radio 4, we are witnessing a tug-of-war in Syria that has an uncertain end. The same observers who verify protesters’ assertions that they are being massacred also bear witness to what the regime wants them to see: an armed struggle, in which Syrian security forces are also being killed. The Assad government’s narrative – that it is facing a well-organized and externally resourced insurgency – may also be bolstered by the mission’s reports.

More broadly, the monitoring mission calls into question the relationship between regional and global organizations. Throughout the Syrian crisis, there have been calls for the UN Security Council to authorize coercive measures to prevent further atrocities. There are a variety of reasons this global body has not done so, including the likelihood of a veto from one of its permanent members. But it has also been argued that regional organizations, closer to the events on the ground, should take the first steps. And we are reminded that without an explicit request from the Arab League, the council would never have authorized NATO to use “all necessary measures” to prevent the slaughter of civilians in Libya (partly out of fear of being associated with a neo-colonial intervention). The consent of regional organizations, it seems, has become a necessary precondition for global action. 

The original United Nations Charter, in Chapter VIII, envisaged a collective security architecture in which regional organizations would take the lead. Indeed, some scholars have long argued that collective security can only be regional, since it is simply not credible to ask countries from across the world to bring their military forces to bear on a security threat that does not directly affect them. Far better that those who are closer – with special historical ties, the capacity to act quickly, and intimate knowledge of the neighbouring country’s political dynamics – take on the responsibility of addressing instability in their neighbourhood.

While these arguments about a link between vicinity and responsibility make some sense, there are also important drawbacks to relying on regional partners as first movers. Although they undoubtedly have more at stake, they may also have an interest in a particular outcome – one that advantages them. There is also the possibility that “historical ties” have not always been amicable. In some regions, there are particular hegemons – South Africa or Nigeria in Africa, for example, or the United States in the western hemisphere – that are viewed with suspicion. Using this logic, a global organization, without a particular axe to grind, would be viewed as more impartial and therefore more legitimate.

More recently, an additional issue has arisen with respect to regional organizations. Let’s call it the “capacity problem.” It may be fine for the UN Security Council to call upon players in the region to act first, as it did when it asked the African Union to take the lead in the crisis in Darfur in 2004-5. But what happens when such organizations do not have the resources (financial or human) to do so? In this instance, deferring to regional organizations risks looking like avoiding responsibility rather than delegating it. Yes, the United Nations eventually joined forces with the African Union in Darfur – to create a hybrid mission – but this was only after two years of further struggle and countless more civilian deaths.

In Syria, there are too few Arab League monitors in too few places. Even if more are dispatched, it is worth asking whether this regional organization, on its own, has the capacity and authority to facilitate a solution to this intractable struggle. The UN – with all the baggage it carries and all the suspicion it engenders – may still prove itself indispensable.

Photo Courtesy Reuters.