Normally, I wouldn’t have to encourage them. Under regular circumstances they would be at each other’s throats. In fact, the conditions of their workplace would have insisted upon it. Their philosophical and political differences would certainly have dictated it. And yet, there I sat among four people so diametrically opposed to each other’s views, I couldn’t believe what wasn’t happening. At one point, I even encouraged their wrath.
“Would you please debate each other?” I asked.
I moderated a candidates’ debate the other night. It featured the four remaining contestants for the Durham riding in the Oct. 14 federal vote. With former NDP candidate Andrew McKeever bowing out late last week, our debate left Henry Zekveld (of the Christian Heritage Party), Stephen Leahy (with the Green Party), Bryan Ransom (of the Liberal Party), debating with Bev Oda (the Conservative incumbent).
But do you think I could get these four people to confront each other? Nope.
That’s not to say there weren’t any dramatic moments. But they were mostly provided by citizens posing questions from the floor. A woman passionately criticized candidate Oda about the government’s decision to eliminate income trusts. Another questioner couldn’t believe the Green’s Leahy hadn’t championed solar power as a viable alternative. And several members of the audience challenged the Liberals’ Ransom to prove that a carbon tax wouldn’t come from taxpayers’ pockets. Perhaps the most articulate question raised the issue of accountability with incumbent Oda.
“Demonstrate the art of the possible,” he said. “Give us an example of something your party, if elected, would do to deal with the economy.”
Witnessing the fashion in which the man posed the question and the exuberance he used making his point, I wanted him to be the next Member of Parliament for the riding of Durham.
I’m not ridiculing the woman and three men who faced their electorate the other night. Not for all the gold in the Canadian Mint would I attempt to do what candidates in any election do.
Presenting one’s point-of-view so quickly and glibly. Laying both private and public reputations on the line every day of the election. Not to mention investing one’s energy, time and resources so totally in the campaign. None of that has ever appealed to me. And I have utmost respect for all political candidates – no matter what their political stripe – for so completely competing for the right to serve in public office.
And yet, I couldn’t get those four folks to take the bait and debate!
At one point, I even stopped the parade of prepared statements and pleaded with them to put the rhetoric aside. The topic was the environment, in particular, the impact of global warming on the far North. I implored them to put their notes aside and give us – their willing and able constituents – some idea, any idea, how we as individuals in faraway Durham might affect the slightest change in our habits and attitudes to bring about a halt to the disintegration of the polar ice cap. As impassioned as I posed the question (I think I even stood up at that point) and as honestly as I hoped a verbal slug-fest might break out, I was disappointed. Nothing happened.
The political debating format is as old as the hills. In fact, among the most historic verbal battles in North America took place exactly 150 years ago. It was just before the U.S. Civil War (1858) when two giants of American oratory – Abraham Lincoln and Stephen Douglas – debated seven times on the issue of slavery and statehood. That debate precipitated Lincoln’s comment that truth is “the electric cord that links the hearts of patriotic and liberty-loving men together.”
In 1960, exactly 48 years ago last week, the so-called Great Debates took place. U.S. presidential candidates John F. Kennedy and Richard M. Nixon went head to head on Sept. 26 in front of 77 million TV viewers. That night Kennedy said the question of the presidency was “whether this nation could exist half slave or half free…”
In Canadian debating history, we had Brian Mulroney’s “You had an option, sir” retort to John Turner in the 1984 election campaign. And even more memorable was Pierre Trudeau’s defence of legislation protecting the rights of homosexuals; in the 1968 political debate he countered Raoul Couette with, “There is no place for the state in the bedrooms of the nation.”
I’m not suggesting that all our candidates in all ridings have to be Lincolns, Kennedys or Trudeaus. But I do expect my vote to be earned by heart-felt persuasion and healthy debate.
We didn’t have that this time ’round. I’ll have to try harder next time.