Early in my career, I spent 15 years in the Parliamentary Press Gallery, fishing for news and column material on the Hill. I got to know the place reasonably well. Although I’ve been back and forth to Ottawa many times, it wasn’t until last week that I had occasion to linger in the capital and to reflect on how dramatically it has changed, for better and worse.
When I knew it best, Ottawa was a drab provincial town; its best feature, as was commonly claimed, was the train to Montreal. The Ottawa I rediscovered last week is vastly more open and welcoming than the tight-assed city I remembered. Imagine! They even have restaurants – and bars! – open on Sundays now.
Today, thanks to the taxpayers of Canada and the powers bestowed on the National Capital Commission, we have a capital we can be proud of. It was gorgeous last week. It had shaken off its pandemic pallor and was emerging from the stress and the damage wrought by the “Freedom Convoy,” so-called and so beloved by Pierre Poilievre and his ilk.
As the sun burst forth on Wednesday, with the capital’s trademark tulips in full bloom and tourists, rare as kangaroos during COVID, flooding the town again, I met an old friend for a beer on a patio at the edge of the Rideau Canal, just upstream from the new Flora Footbridge. We watched streams of runners and cyclists on the pathways along the canal. As a crowded tour boat moved slowly past, I asked myself if there were any place I’d rather be on that sparkling May afternoon in Canada’s capital. Answer: Nope.
Not all changes are pleasant. A fortress mentality – initiated by the 2014 murder of Corporal Nathan Cirillo as he stood sentry at the National War Memorial and entrenched by calls for insurrection from Freedom Convoy extremists – has taken hold in the capital.
Wellington Street at the foot of Parliament Hill is closed to traffic. Private cars are no longer allowed near the Hill. Taxis are not permitted to pick up or drop off passengers at the Parliament Buildings. Official vehicles transporting ministers must take a circuitous route along one-way streets, enter from the Hill from the back and run a gauntlet of security check points before being allowed to deliver their VIP cargos.
I had not been in the West Block since its conversion to house the House of Commons while the Centre Block is under reconstruction. The glass-ceilinged chamber constructed in the central courtyard of the building is a marvel of architecture and design.
But the conduct of MPs is disgraceful, and the quality of their discourse appalling. Question Period, back in the day when I covered it, was often a shallow performance, but it was usually civilized and on its good days it fulfilled its purpose, holding the government to account for its actions.
I was shocked last week to witness what I was assured was a typical QP. Opposition and government MPs vied like silly schoolboys to outshout and out-insult one another. Conservatives MPs repeated the same inane but loaded questions over and over to embarrass the government, and cabinet ministers responded in kind, reciting vapid answers that had been carefully cleansed of relevant information. And no one paid the slightest attention when MPs and ministers who were participating from their homes appeared on the large screens above them. Most didn’t bother to look up. They didn’t listen. They bickered on.
The House of Confrontation has “matured” into an insult to the intelligence of Canadians who care about democracy.
Cambridge resident Geoffrey Stevens is an author and former Ottawa columnist and managing editor of the Globe and Mail. He welcomes comments at geoffstevens40@gmail.com