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Former president Barack Obama's memoir, A Promised Land, was a gift just before the holiday season, a token of celebration for my own election win as a municipal councillor in my hometown of Bradford West Gwillimbury, Ontario.

I read it over the holidays.

The book is remarkably candid and introspective, with the former president revealing his own times of self-doubt, his readings as a young man, even some of his more profane reactions to the inanity of American politics.

The prose is clear and direct, and the narrative starts out setting the scene by recanvassing some of the intellectual wrestling Obama chronicled in more detail in his coming-of-age memoir, Dreams From My Father.  In that earlier book, he tells his story as a meditation on race in America; in this autobiography, he extends the frame to explore the American dream (in some ways it makes a great companion read to Jill Lepore's seminal These Truths about the philosophical underpinnings of the first modern democracy).

Indeed, as The Times correspondent writes, "The scholar Fred Kaplan… has drawn parallels between Abraham Lincoln and Mr. Obama, pointing out that they share a mastery of language… Like Lincoln's, Mr. Obama's voice — in person and on the page — is an elastic one, by turns colloquial and eloquent, humorous and pensive, and accommodating both common-sense arguments and melancholy meditations."

There's a particularly interesting section about his "monastic" college years early on in the book, or as The New York Times put it: "Not only did he read books voraciously, but he inhaled and synthesized the ideas he found in them, assimilating ones that resonated with his personal experiences and values".

From this extended introduction, he tells the story of his epic primary battle against Hillary Clinton and the presidential campaign.  The bulk of the book is episodic: explaining the machinations of the first three years in office in focused chapters.

From the back and forth of congressional negotiations over the flurry of bills in his first two years, to international affairs — including a behind-the-scenes of the Copenhagen climate conference arm wrestling to reach a deal — the book culminates in the real-world thriller of the final hunt for Osama bin Laden.

In a truly cinematic moment, Obama reveals how he felt walking into the White House Correspondents' dinner to roast reality TV blowhard Donald Trump, even as the operation to take out bin Laden was underway.  The scene takes greater poignancy four years after Trump's disastrous presidency.

Left unstated is the alien nature after Trump of Obama's technocratic, almost seminar-like decision making.  On the one hand, that level of rigour would be a welcome change.  On the other, Obama's presidency, for all it's incremental and lasting progress, feels like a distant past where elites tried to move the ball down the field, committed to bipartisanship and Washington shibboleths, when what the populace needed was more revolutionary change.

As his vice-president prepares to take the presidency this month, there are already signs Joe Biden sees his role as Obama 2.0, but with more of a focus on those who feel left behind by the modern economy that has resulted in a new "Gilded Age" in the 2020s between well-off elites and those who feel they are falling out of the middle class.

How Obama handles that tension in his next memoir will be truly fascinating.  He was not perfect, but Shakespeare could have been writing about him when he penned these famous words between Hamlet and Horatio:

"I saw him once.  He was a goodly king.

He was a man.  Take him for all in all.

I shall not look upon his like again."

Photo Credit: Los Angeles Times

The views, opinions and positions expressed by columnists and contributors are the author’s alone. They do not inherently or expressly reflect the views, opinions and/or positions of our publication.


What a difference a day makes.

Because, it was like a brand new Donald Trump.

He was measured.  He was mature.  He was moderate.

Did somebody medicate him?  Because, when we all looked at the video the Donald Trump released on Thursday, there'd been a dramatic change.  It was very, very different from the video he released on Wednesday.

On Wednesday, Trump told a bunch of criminal thugs some or one of whom allegedly murdered a brave police officer, Brian D. Sicknick, in cold blood that he loves them, quote unquote.  That he understands their pain.

"I know your pain, I know you're hurt.  We had an election that was stolen from us.  It was a landslide election and everyone knows it, especially the other side," said Trump to his followers, some of whom had allegedly been slamming a fire extinguisher into the side of Officer Sicknick's skull.

He continued, his tiny hands waving in the tear gas-tinged air like bats.

"This was a fraudulent election, but we can't play into the hands of these people," Trump said.  "We love you, you're very special… I know you how feel."

"We love you."

Well, that was an inadvisable thing to say.  A number of Trump White House staff and political appointees immediately tendered their resignations.  Members of his cabinet, too.  One of them, the rebarbative Education Secretary Betsy Devos, even wrote in her letter of resignation that Trump's Wednesday comments "[were] unconscionable for our country.  There is no mistaking the impact your rhetoric had on the situation."

Well, well, well.  Even Trump World has its moral limits, apparently.

Then, there was a magical transformation.  Then, something extraordinary happened: Donald Trump started to look and sound like a President of the United States.

"A new administration will be inaugurated on January 20th," the Mango Mussolini said.  "My focus now turns to ensuring a smooth, orderly and seamless transition of power.  This moment calls for healing and reconciliation."

He went on, saying with a straight face that he was "outraged by the lawlessness and mayhem."  He said that the rioters in the Capitol "have defiled the seat of American democracy."  Oh, and he said this, right around the time that Officer Sicknick's body was laying in a Washington morgue.

"To those who broke the law, you will pay," Trump said.

Interesting final words, there.

So what happened?  What happened between Wednesday and Thursday?  Because, they sure don't sound like the same guy, do they?

It can't be Nancy Pelosi's threat to impeach him.  He's been impeached already.  And, besides, she still doesn't have the votes in the Senate, and there's not enough time.  So it's not that.

It can't be the people talking about invoking the 25th amendment of the U.S. Constitution.  That's the section that allows the vice president to remove the president.  But Pence has made clear that he doesn't intend to do that.

So what happened?  Here's what: those final words.  "To those who broke the law, you will pay."

And that's true.  When Joe Biden gets sworn in at noon on January 20, Donald J. Trump becomes a private citizen.  And that means that he is no longer shielded from lawsuits and prosecutions.

And he's facing a lot of them.  He's facing a torrent of legal trouble.

That's what got Donald Trump to start acting like a president.  When you've got a whole lot of legal problems, you don't need to be creating more legal problems for yourself.

The end is coming.  And Donald Trump finally knows it.

But his eleventh-hour, whiplash-inducing, road-to-Damascus political reversal?  It's too late.

The cops are coming, Trump.  And you're not going to be able to stop them with a fire extinguisher, this time.

[Warren Kinsella worked for Joe Biden's presidential campaign.]

Photo Credit: BBC

The views, opinions and positions expressed by columnists and contributors are the author’s alone. They do not inherently or expressly reflect the views, opinions and/or positions of our publication.


In the wake of the invasion of Capitol Hill by a group of cosplaying wannabes hoping for a civil war in Trump's name, we have been treating to some of the usual tut-tutting up here in Canada.  Much of it centres around the fact that we are not immune to the white supremacists and neo-Nazis who made up the ranks of those invaders, and reminders that the founder of the Proud Boys is himself a Canadian.  Some of it has been in the form of a reminder that it was only six months ago that a Friendly Sausage Makerâ„¢ smashed his gun-filled truck into the gates of Rideau Hall and went looking for the prime minister (but only to talk, we were assured at the time by RCMP sources, which was not the case at all).  But what I haven't seen is much discussion about the same kinds of rhetoric that radicalized that crowd that is being used closer to home.

Canadian politics often suffers from American envy, and the steady diet of outrage that spawned in overheated right-wing talk radio certainly found its way to Canada, and populist parties quickly found it an enticing vehicle for their purposes.  This particular tactic of fomenting anger and outrage took particular root in the western provinces, and it is now the dominant discourse of politics in Alberta, and by extension, the federal Conservative party that feels that Alberta is its particular heartland.  Complex issues are reduced to misleading, simplistic binaries, whether it's the tough-on-crime agenda, foreign policy, or the inability to reconcile the environment and the economy.  And while certain amounts of rhetorical excess are not unexpected in politics, things have taken an ugly turn in this country that doesn't get called out nearly enough probably because when put in comparison to the lunacy of the failed state that we neighbour, it doesn't look that bad, and people shrug it off.

One of those rhetorical excesses that has become disturbingly common is the notion that any government that is not the conservative flavour of the jurisdiction in question is somehow illegitimate.  This is the implicit message in Erin O'Toole's leadership campaign slogan of joining the fight to "take back Canada" that Justin Trudeau's Liberal government is some kind of pretender to the throne and must be overthrown.  It was the explicit message that Jason Kenney promulgated in Alberta when he arrived as the conquering hero to slay the great imposter, Rachel Notley.  No way could an NDP government actually exist in that province it was a terrible accident of history that needed to be corrected.

The fact that Notley was considered traitorous, and Kenney's angry mob would often devolve into imported American chants of "lock her up" is disturbing because it was a sign that our democratic norms were being eroded we don't call on our political opponents to be investigated and arrested, and yet, this kind of attack quickly became normalized.  With Trudeau, for whom the enmity in Alberta is the result of an outright indoctrination program because of the largely imagined slights his father inflicted on the province (seriously, the National Energy Program was not really how it has been portrayed after the fact), the appearance of "Trudeau for Treason" signs quickly became commonplace occurrences at rallies, along with signs and t-shirts with pictures of nooses on them, calling for Trudeau to be hanged.  This is not how things should look in a liberal democracy like ours, and yet this quickly became normalized because politicians like Jason Kenney neither adequately denounced it, and he kept feeding the irrational anger.

And because this kind of rhetoric became commonplace, and conservatives both federally and provincially were looking for constant ways to attack Trudeau, they also were quick to turn blind eyes to the alarming rise in white supremacist rhetoric that came with it.  Recall the avowedly racist woman from that Quebec barbecue who attacked Trudeau because he was spending money on refugees and not "Québécois de souche" the Conservatives were quick to offer her succour, and caterwauled that she was just "asking about the budget," and that if Trudeau doesn't like your questions, "he calls you racist" because remember, being called racist is a bigger sin than the actual racism.

There were the convoys by the so-called "yellow vesters," who went from a group that was trying to make a facile imitation of the French protests over increased carbon pricing to quickly being overtaken by white supremacists, and yet Andrew Scheer still felt the need to go out and address them rather than denouncing what they became.  So long as they were attacking Trudeau and could be considered "ordinary, hard-working Canadians," then they would turn a blind eye to the dangerous elements and let the rhetoric go unchecked.  Because they think that irrational anger works for them.

There is also the fact that there has not been any kind of reckoning for those members of their respective parties, federal and provincial, who have formed ties with the Trump campaign whether it's Marilyn Gladu repeating falsehoods about hydroxychloroquine, Candice Bergen in her MAGA hat, or Alberta's agriculture minister, Devin Dreeshan, having been a campaign worker for Trump there has been no actual accountability for what these ties represent to the norms of our democracy, and the fact that Trump was never a normal candidate or president, and that he should not be treated as such, especially in Canada by our own conservatives.

Even in the wake of the invasion of Capitol Hill, Erin O'Toole did not send a message to his followers that denounced the violence, merely expressing sadness at what was transpiring.  It took nearly 24 more hours for Michael Chong to do so, and the last time he ran for leader, the party denounced him as a closet Liberal for supporting market-based carbon pricing.  As a country, we need to take a stand and say that this kind of anger-for-the-sake-of-anger rhetoric is not acceptable, before it poisons our own democracy, and people start taking cues from Trump's mob.

The views, opinions and positions expressed by columnists and contributors are the author’s alone. They do not inherently or expressly reflect the views, opinions and/or positions of our publication.