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Message: Notes from the Belly of the Liberal Leadership Convention By Toby Heaps The environment won and the backroom boys lost. That's the story of this weekend's Liberal Leadership Convention. Although he wasn't on the ballot at the end, John Godfrey kicked off the green revolution in the Red party back in March, when he announced he was running for the leadership in order to put the sustainable economy at the centre of the Liberal Party. Stephane Dion quickly took the green baton from Godfrey, put it at the centre of his three-tiered new liberalism (social justice, environmental sustainability, and economic prosperity) and zestfully ran with it all the way to the finish line this weekend. Michael Ignatieff, frontrunner until the last ballot, even signed up Jamie MacDonald, a whiz kid PhD who has worked with Natural Step, to be his sustainability guru and craft his carbon tax proposal. As the campaign wore on all contenders except Joe Volpe caught the green fever (Volpe's theme song was "Life is a Highway". He joked he'd had a good ride in his red Ferrari, and then on Sunday, he showed up for a meeting with Dion, in his red SUV--which he left idling by the curb for a valet to pick up). Even though Dion is the sustainable economy poster child and most of my idealistic Liberal friends were in his corner, some lingering doubts about his cojones remained, leftover from an interview I did with him back when he was Environment Minister. When I asked Dion what he thought about leaders in the business community (like the Shell Chairman) who said a carbon tax would be the best way to meet our Kyoto targets, he recoiled as if I'd hit him with a taser gun. He said carbon tax was a bad idea and wouldn't be considered by a Liberal government. As I went into the convention centre Monday morning (I got in as media--I'd be reluctant to join any party that would accept me, and besides it's a lot cheaper that way), I was keenest on Gerard Kennedy. I knew that he had the biggest upside (his integrity and work ethic) and downside (his obstinacy), and was at least one Berlitz tape short of speaking passable French--but I understand the guy. In conversations with Liberal powerbrokers I learned he didn't return phone calls or "appreciate favours." So when it came time for lunch on Friday, I headed off to the Kennedy suite at the Hyatt for an Indian Buffet. In the elevator on the way up, several attractive Kennedy supporters were discussing their tightly fitting gK t-shirts. But they reached a consensus that the Brison camp had the nicer garb: even tighter shirts sported by cute boys. When I got to the suite I noted two bad omens: One, the food was nowhere to be seen and two, there were some pretty sketchy liberals in the room--the kind you see at nomination meetings rigging outcomes or good-naturedly relishing character assassinations. Usually the sketchy ones are the ambitious ones, so I expected they would be in the Ignatieff camp. Maybe Iggy had a screening process. It was just as well--Indian food always makes me want to take a nap--and as I made my way to the food court for some soup, I decided Kennedy might have a bigger downside than I thought. He didn't seem to have a clear plan beyond party renewal, and I shuddered to think what would happen if he had the Prime Minister's portfolio in his lap without a well-prepared plan of action. Either there would be gridlock, or he would have to rely on his coterie of supporters. As the Toronto Star cartoonist remarked to me when Brison was delivering the French part of his speech that night: “Oooh, not good.” Well, at 46 years, Gerard will be there next time with better French, more federal experience and a clearer plan of what he wants to do. And he won't be upsetting the alternating French-English Liberal leadership tradition. Friday night's main event was the leadership speeches. I arrived early and took a spot near the front of the podium. A preppy looking 25-year-old abruptly asked me if I was with the Ignatieff Team. Evidently I was in the Ignatieff cluster of seats. “No, I'm with the media,” I said. He then put his hand on my back and started pushing me out into the aisle, which I didn't like too much. I told him to take his hands off me. “Please feel free to communicate with me verbally, but don't touch me again if you value your personal safety,” I said. From my new vantage point behind, in order, the RCMP line, Chrétien, Martin and Turner, I was feeling remorseful about being short with the Ignatieff kid. He was probably under a lot of stress. But then I saw him do the same thing to Senate Leader Marjory Lebreton, who had quietly taken a seat in the back corner of the Ignatieff pen. Senator Lebreton was a little less cooperative than me, and the Iggy gatekeeper ended up calling security. As I looked around at all the nice hair cuts, tailored suits and expensive watches in the Iggy pen, it occurred to me it might not be so wise for them to push people out before they'd gotten themselves in. The most impressive speech of the night was from Scott Brison (minus the French parts). Over half the speech was dedicated to battling climate change--a subject Brison hadn't focused on much previously. The cornerstone of his speech was a movie that was slicker than anything I saw come out of his campaign (think Al Gore's Inconvenient Truth). Something told me he didn't produce it himself. I suspected either Rae or Ignatieff had provided some production assistance, both of whom had overflowing war chests of resources. Rae's slick video had some of the trademark fades and transitions of Brison's. Later of course, Brison threw his support behind Rae, when Ignatieff's sensibilities on finance and international affairs seemed more closely aligned to his own. Coincidence? You decide. After the speeches I stopped by to see Ken Dryden, the former Nader Raider, Habs backstop, and lawyer who'd made an excellent speech and, in my view, would make the best prime minister of the bunch right now. On my way out of the party to catch the midnight bus, a signed Ken Dryden card in hand, I bumped into a crowd of Ontario Liberals. Talk turned to the leadership. I said I liked Ken Dryden, but of those with a chance, Dion looked the best, and would at least keep the leadership tradition of alternating French-English alive. They weren't so keen on Dion. A couple of months ago Dion was out for dinner with Dalton McGuinty and some of his cabinet. The story goes that Dion told McGuinty that whenever he talked about fiscal imbalance, he was “tearing the country apart.” In the words of one liberal backroomer, you just don't say that kind of stuff. Dion may not have been the favoured candidate in Canadian liberal cigar lounges, but a little-emphasized fact is that he has more than a passing aquaintance in international power circles. He put in some time at the Institut d'Etudes Politiques de Paris and the Brookings Institute in Washington. He's also affiliated with the Bilderberg Club, whose annual meeting he reportedly attended in 1998. As I walked through the cold wet Montreal night to the bus station, I thought maybe my mom was right about those quiet guys: sometimes they turn out to be tougher than you thought. Time will tell. The Liberals will likely spend at least one more election in the penalty box, until enough of them realize that there's nothing natural about them being Canada's governing party. In the mean time, kudos for Dion's pledge to do much better on the environment, starting with putting the kaibosh to the communist price cap of $15 on carbon permits in favour of letting the free market set the price. His dog Kyoto would like that. *Check out "Towards A Sustainable Economy", a manifesto just published by Desiree McGraw, one of Canada's finest minds on environmental policy, for the Liberal Renewal Commission. www.corporateknightsforum.com