By H. Grant Timms

Some might point out, in response to my previous column, that, well, times change and so it really does not matter what parties call themselves. Today’s conservatives, liberals and democratic socialists are not bound by the ideologies of the past when choosing their party identities or labels. Political philosophy has to change with the times too, so perhaps what was conservative, liberal or socialist even 50 years ago has little bearing on today. To illustrate the point, one could note that originally both ‘Tory’ (conservative) and ‘Whig’ (or liberal) were used as terms of disparagement or even abuse. Tory is the anglicised middle Irish tóaidhe, the modern Irish tórai, whereas Whig is derived from the Scots word whiggamor. If the original definitions held, Mr. Harper would be leading the Brigand or Robber Party and Mr. Trudeau the Cattle Drivers. By the 18th century the terms had become more or less normalised and accepted as terms for the two main parties in British political discourse, but the use of Tory as a term of abuse was resurrected by the American rebels (also known as patriots) in the Revolutionary War. It was hurled at the people who remained loyal to the Crown – the Loyalists: the people who settled in what became New Brunswick and Ontario (Upper Canada). The liberal revolutionaries, then, used ‘Tory’ in much the same way as neoliberals use ‘socialist’ today.

At any rate, yes, things change — except when they do not, or, with respect to the Harper Conservatives, when we are being led to believe that they are the continuation of a political tradition that is grounded in Canadian history.

Labelling the Harper Party as ‘neoliberal’ as opposed to its preferred ‘conservative’ is nothing new, though for the most part the use of label is largely confined to academic circles. The media no longer uses it, certainly. For the major media, the assumption seems to be that since the Conservatives call themselves conservative, they must be. But this neoliberalism has been around for quite some time, and has always been labelled ‘conservative’ by its American proponents from Ronald Reagan onwards; it was the same in Thatcher’s Britain. Among the first noted neoliberals were the ‘Chicago Boys’ who re-engineered the Chilean economy for Pinochet in the 1960s. In America, the leading theoretical lights Walter Lippmann and the Chicago School’s Milton Freidman. The latter was the brains behind ‘Reaganomics’. It was the former who insisted that with the rise of organised labour and the application of Keynesian economic policies from the 1930s to the 1960s there was now “too much democracy”; the people, through their votes and representatives, had gained too much control the economy, over business, and over the large corporations. ‘Too much democracy’ meant economic democracy. The neoliberal agenda aimed at rolling back this democratic control — and to a large degree the aims have been achieved.

In part, the goal has been to create an ideological shift, wherein people perceive nation-states and civil societies as markets, and where nations — with their histories and cultures — are seen merely as ‘jurisdictions.’ Beginning in the 1980s the neoliberal campaign has aimed at the de-regulation of business activity and at the privatisation of institutions held in public hands. The aim here was to ensure that capital accumulation was freed from legal restrictions (i.e. ‘government interference’) including the removal of protections for labour and income support programs, the erosion of environment protection legislation and, particularly, the de-regulation of financial markets. The first phase of the latter resulted in the merger and acquisition mania of the 80s with its massive layoffs and shift of production overseas, the second phase resulted in the crash of financial markets in 2008. However, regulations are seen by neoliberals as ‘distortions’ of the market. A ‘distortion’ of the labour market includes anything that tends to protect jobs and wages and makes the labour market less flexible, where ‘flexibility’ serves as a euphemism for low-paying precarious jobs.

In part, the campaign against society’s democratic ‘interference’ in the economy was ideologically legitimated with the argument that such regulations, including social-welfare programs, were innovations. Neoliberals appealed to history and tradition; in the US they could say that regulation was ‘un-American’ and compromised its founding principles. This was true enough in the US, a nation founded on liberal economic principles. But no where else.

Certainly not in Canada. Regulation, and protection against the socially destructive action of the market – including the implementation of social-welfare programs – were all part of the Canadian landscape from the 1780s onward. Loyalists received land grants and government assistance in the early years of their settlement, particularly in New Brunswick and Ontario. The communitarian impulse went hand in hand with a deliberately implemented pluralism; both made a lasting marks on the Canadian political landscape and national identity. That, however, is a topic for another discussion.

In every way that matters the philosophy of the Conservative Party of Canada can simply be called liberalism, particularly with its emphasis on economic freedom, especially where the freedom of large corporations is concerned. It is ‘conservative’ only in this sense: it points to the conservation of classical liberal ideology, and thus stands in opposition to both democratic socialism and traditional Canadian conservatism.

The result of the neoliberal campaign has been further integration of Canada into the American political and economic orbit, the erosion of Canada’s social safety net, the replacement of secure jobs by increasingly precarious employment, and the engineering of an unprecedented disparity of wealth between the wealthiest few and the rest. This disparity has been created, in part, by shifting the tax burden (to an unprecedented degree) from the wealthy and corporations onto individuals and small business.

In terms of policy and practice there were always a number of similarities between traditional Canadian conservatism and the democratic-socialism of the CCF/NDP. Both believed that government was required to take an active role in building communities, regions, and the nation. Both believed that regions, with their specific economies and cultures, needed protection from the effects of capitalism. Both, as opposed to liberalism, recognised the connection between individuals and communities, believed that this connection went beyond that of mere economic actors engaged in exchange, and believed an obligation to one another existed that was not limited to, or by, individual self-interest. And both recognised that freedom or liberty, if it was to be meaningful, could not be limited simply to ‘freedom from interference’ in economic activity, but must include positive freedoms or rights — such as the right to education, medical care, housing and secure employment.

Some 50 years ago, in the book Lament for a Nation the late Canadian political philosopher George Grant (himself a more of a ‘Blue Tory’) reflected on the decline of Red Toryism in Canada and suggested that as a brake against unfettered capitalism and the liberal agenda of continental integration an NDP-Red Tory alliance was not only rather natural, but might be quite useful indeed. He lamented that both parties had not undertaken it.

However, in recent days, a number of commentators suggested that the NDP victory in Alberta was in part a product of a ‘Red Tory’ impulse. Certainly the electorate had become fed up with Conservative Party corruption, and to that degree the vote was ‘negative’, but the positive element, in terms of voting for something, was the expression of this impulse. As we look forward to the federal election, the suggestion is an interesting one.

[Photo Credit: PMO]