We hope you do not mind this unsolicited open letter. It is unlikely we are going to meet at the Rideau Club anytime soon, and there was no time to waste.
Our use of “we” is deliberate. In this case, it is the many Canadians who have long admired you. You do not know all of us, but we certainly know you.
You have been the Governor-General of all of Canada. You are a celebrated author and academic. You studied at Harvard and Cambridge universities. You were a university president. You are a former Colonel of the Royal Canadian Regiment. You have been part of so many distinguished panels and commissions, we don’t have room to even partially list them all.
So, after all that — after acquiring such a remarkable reputation over eight decades — we ask: what were you thinking?
What were you thinking when you accepted Justin Trudeau’s Faustian bargain?
A Faustian bargain, as you would know, is one in which a person abandons their principles — or, in your case, sullies a stellar reputation that has been built up over many years — to obtain something.
But what? What? In your case, it couldn’t possibly be wealth: you’re quite wealthy already. It couldn’t be knowledge: you are widely regarded as one of the smartest people in Canada.
It couldn’t be influence: you are regularly consulted by leaders of all persuasions — Hell, you were appointed GG at the urging of one Stephen Harper.
So what is it? What persuaded you to act as Justin Trudeau’s “special rapporteur” into the growing Chinese election interference scandal? Did you lose your senses?
Because, as we all know, you’re not just smart — you’re brilliant. You knew, didn’t you, what would happen. You knew that people — reasonable, fair-minded people — would be absolutely gobsmacked that you would take on such an assignment.
Why? You know why. You have publicly admitted you have been a good friend of Justin Trudeau for his entire life. You have skied together. You have attended the same swishy parties, breathing the rarefied air of Rockcliffe and Rosedale and Westmount.
Why? Why did you do that? All that you needed to do is say: “Justin, you rule like you ski — recklessly. I obviously cannot be your independent rapporteur in the fetid China mess.
“One, because we took money from China. Two, because I am too close to you and your family. Do the right thing, and call a public inquiry.”
Does that represent what lawyers — which you are, by the by — call a real conflict of interest? Perhaps not. An opinion by some servile nobody will be trotted to testify to that, soon enough.
But it’s a perceived conflict of interest. Of that, there can be no doubt. And, for a Canadian with a reputation as incredible as yours, that is serious enough.
It is not just partisan Conservatives who are saying so. Everyone — the people who look up to you and admire you — are saying so. Is this how he wants to end his public service career? That is what they are asking.
In politics, you are only remembered for your last win or loss. They don’t remember anything else.
With this decision — with your apparent willingness to drink from Justin Trudeau’s poisoned chalice — you will be remembered for something else entirely. You won’t be remembered for an extraordinary résumé.
You will be remembered for getting involved with something that is so, so beneath you.
Source: torontosun
