Leader-Star News Service August 1996 Archive

We all know that the idea of separation between church and state is fundamental to democracy. With freedom of thought and expression essential to political freedom, there can be no democracy when religious ideas are forced upon people.

Anyone who doubts the incompatibility of religion and democracy need only look around the world. Nations governed by state religions impose a set of beliefs on their populations and expect all citizens to fall in line. Dissenting views are not easily accepted.

In recent times, we've witnessed a rise in such theocracies. Much of it has been centered in the Muslim world, where government and formal religious beliefs have become one and the same.

Moreover, the political climate in the Middle East is almost exclusively defined by the religious tension - between the Arab world and Israel - that dominates the region. It's the same in much of Asia and parts of Europe. The friction between Pakistan and India is rooted in religion. A central component to the civil war in the former Yugoslavia is religion, the former Soviet Union has similar religious tensions and the endless cycle of violence in Northern Ireland is religion-based.

Given those examples, to suggest that what politics in North American lacks is a stronger religious current might seem completely wrongheaded. Certainly, we don't want to introduce religion-based conflict into our political debate.

But there is a growing number who believe the old secular nostrums of left and right have failed us. They say people are yearning for a political process that has a clear moral basis, one that is drawn from our sense of religious faith.

Among those who have spoken and written extensively on the need for a new, moral politics is American journalist and author Jim Wallis. As a religious person and writer who works and lives with the poor in some of America's toughest ghettos, Wallis has written a powerful book entitled The Soul of Politics, which seeks a new political paradigm to guide our public life.

"The dominant political ideologies of liberal and conservative, Left and Right, seem equally incapable of discerning our present crisis or leading us into the future. Politics has become almost completely dysfunctional. We long for something more truthful, more insightful, more compassionate, more wise, more humble, and more human," Wallis writes.

Wallis says what we need to do is to create a politics with a clear moral basis, a politics that is more than just a debate about materialism.

The process needs to be guided by spiritual values that differentiate clearly between right and wrong.

Wallis sums up the problems we face today by referring to the "seven social sins" that Mohandas Ghandi, one of the great moral/political leaders of the 20th century, defined more than 50 years ago.

"He (Ghandi) named them as politics without principle, wealth without work, commerce without morality, pleasure without conscience, education without character, science without humanity and worship without sacrifice."

It is Wallis' contention that both of the great competing ideologies of the 20th century - capitalism and communism - have failed us.

Communism replaced ethics with ideology and then sacrificed countless millions "on the altar of ideological necessity". In the case of free-market capitalism, ethics are violated by a devotion to profits that often overrides all other human considerations.

"The state religion of communism has been replaced so far only with the Western religion of materialism, an idol that holds great attraction for those recently set free from the idolatries of state totalitarianism. But the shimmering promises of the good life of Western consumerism are now withering in many former communist countries as the harsh realities of the market economy are experienced for the first time," Wallis says.

There is little doubt more and more people share Wallis's view that we need to renew politics by instilling the debate with a universal morality. Clearly, such public morality will be drawn from religious faith because morality flows from religion, which teaches right from wrong.

In that sense, anyone who subscribes to moral beliefs has a religious foundation even if they insist they are non-religious or atheist..If you believe that right and wrong exist, by definition, then, you become a religious person because you acknowledge the existence of an inherent moral law.

The last politician in Canada who spoke in such moral-religious terms was Tommy Douglas. His message of the social gospel resonated during a period of uncertainty during and after the Great Depression. People flocked to Douglas because he was seen as a person who took politics to a higher moral and humane level.

Today, Jim Wallis believes people yearn for a similar, religious-based message to give politics a soul.

No one is likely more surprised that he's in the middle of a union organizational drive than Gerry Schmidt, himself.

Schmidt, a Saskatchewan government middle-manager who runs the industrial program at the Regina Corrections Centre, has never belonged to a union. He has never wanted to join a union and probably wouldn't today if the circumstances were different.

But the old union adage that bad employers get the unions they deserve may be applicable in the case of Schmidt and anywhere between 600 to 1,200 middle-managers in Saskatchewan's 9,400-member civil service.

However, it may only be one-third of the equation.

Evidently, bad unions also get the unions they deserve. So does bad politics.

The formation of the new Saskatchewan Government Managers Association - Schmidt is serving as its president at least until the end of the organizational drive - is directly attributable to the "Scope Review" currently being conducted by the Saskatchewan government's Public Service Commission (PSC).

But problems for middle managers go well beyond the Scope Review, starting with the last budget.

In the lead-up to Finance Minister Janice MacKinnon's March 28 budget, MacKinnon and other NDP cabinet minister took great delight telling us any layoffs would be aimed at middle-managers first.

Politically speaking, this is the path of least resistance for government cuts. Top-level managers are never going to suggest their own jobs be axed. Cutting unionized positions is messy.

So line up the middle managers.

When budget day rolled around, the province announced the deletion of 669 positions: 361 in-scope, 183 out-of-scope and 125 vacant.

In the end, about 81 middle-managers were on the street, Schmidt estimates. But only two Saskatchewan Government Employees Union (SGEU) members were without jobs after all bumping rights were exercised, he said.

Even though many middle-managers emerge from union ranks by working their way through their departments, SGEU contracts have prohibited such middle-managers from bumping back into union jobs if their positions were eliminated.

But under the structure of the "Scope Review" many such middle-managers are going to wind up back under SGEU, anyway.

In its last contract SGEU signed shortly before last year's election, labor and management again agreed to conduct a review to decided who should be in-scope and out-of-scope.

The problem - at least from SGEU's perspective - is there are just far too many out-of-scope managers in government.

The union may be right.

About 22 per cent of the provincial civil service here are non-union - nearly twice the national average of 12 to 14 per cent.

Few would argue that the Devine government of the 1980s built up non-union, middle-management ranks at the expense of SGEU.

But Schmidt notes most of these changes resulted from past contract negotiations. In other words, the union likely gave up some job positions, in exchange for wages and other benefits.

"They paid to get out. Now they pay to get you back in," Schmidt said. "Sounds interesting, doesn't it?"

What shape the Scope Review takes by the time it is completed in April 1997 has not been determined by the PSC.

But SGEU has made it clear it thinks any middle managers who are reclassified as in-scope should lose their seniority within government, unless they are willing to pay union dues for all the years they weren't in the union.

With annual union dues between $500 and $1,000 a year, that could cost some managers tens of thousands of dollars, Schmidt said.

If the PSC permits this, many say it will be nothing short of a pay-off to the unions for their support of the NDP in election campaigns.

More politics.

But Schmidt feels managers like him will literally pay the price.

So rather than be forced to join SGEU and lose seniority, or fork over thousands of dollars, Schmidt and other managers are getting together to start their own union.

It's something he could have never imagined.

But politics sometimes stretches one's imagination.

Sask. voters know there are health-care problems

One amazing thing about Saskatchewan voters is the way they can sniff out a government policy that doesn't make sense.

In the same remarkable way dogs smell fear, Saskatchewan voters smell politicians who've lost their way.

We saw it in the past PC government's feeble explanations of why it was shipping 1,500 Regina civil servants throughout the province for reasons that had nothing to do with economics and everything to do with politics.

Sadly, it's happening again today in health care with Roy Romanow's NDP government.

The stench is overwhelming.

How troubling health care has become for this government is apparent by how defensive government people get when asked to justify the health-care changes. Immediately, you are treated to a delightful menu of imbecilic, rhetorical responses: "So what do you want? Status quo? Higher taxes? Deterrent fees? Premiums? American-style health care?"

The truth be told, this government has already saddled us with higher taxes. The extra we pay for prescription drugs might as well be premiums and deterrent fees.

And now we have an NDP government auctioning off Level 1 and 2 nursing to for-profit, private, personal care homes at a cost to the residents of $1,200 a month - not at all unlike "American-style health care."

But far more intriguing than their own rhetoric seemingly aimed at convincing no one other than themselves, is what you don't hear from this government anymore.

The word "wellness."

There are some who would argue former health minister Louise Simard's so-called "wellness model" was never anything more than meaningless jargon designed to deflect from the dramatic hospital closures.

But the real beauty in Simard's "wellness model" was it gave us some sense there was something this NDP government was striving towards. A new plan. A vision.

Wellness, at least, gave some credence to Simard's arguments that the province could survive the closures because Saskatchewan health care was more than the bricks and mortar of its hospitals.

How far removed this government seems to be from this vision, however, was apparent with the recent demise of the Saskatchewan Provincial Health Council - another victim of health- care funding cuts.

The provincial health council - along with the 1992 changes to the health department's structure, the creation of health board districts to supposedly allow greater public say in local health board decisions, the creation of the Health Utilization and Research Commission - were the four legs of Simard's health reform table.

Dr. Ralph Nilson, chairman of the provincial council and dean of physical activities at the University of Regina that includes the Dr. Paul Schwann Centre, agrees the winding down of the provincial council is like sawing off one of the legs of the health-care reform table.

In its last annual report, the council came through with a series of intriguing recommendations that dealt with everything from the effects of poverty and housing on health to the disposal of chemical wastes.

Unfortunately, much of the council's work was long-term vision. Governments need to be elected every four years.

Much of this once-important long-term vision now seems in doubt with a finance department running virtually every other in government.

Amazingly, nothing has been said about it. In fact, the winding down of the council on July 15 - despite having recently been given an extension to June 1997 - has not even been formally announced.

Few in the public would equate the demise of a $300,000-a-year council with today's health-care problems.

But the public sees this government cannot tell them when hospital conversions, nursing home closures and health centre closures will end. They know there is reason to worry when specialists in the province's capital are openly expressing concern about the quality of care of their patients.

And they realize there is a huge problem when no one says where Saskatchewan health care is headed.

The problems in health care are real. The people can smell them.

From page A4 of The Leader-Post, August 9, 1996

Things looking more positive in the Liberal camp

After a year's worth of very bad decisions, the Liberal caucus appears to be making a couple very good ones.

The first good decision emerging from caucus came last week when Melfort MLA Rod Gantefoer announced he was not running for the party leadership in November, although this should not be interpreted as a slight on Gantefoer's abilities.

Actually, Gantefoer might well have as much leadership ability as couple of other caucus colleagues we may see in the race.

While not always the smoothest performer in the legislature, Gantefoer showed passion, commitment and understanding of issues he raised that often exceeded others in the Liberal caucus. He has also shown a longer-term commitment to the Liberal party, but, ironically, that's where his problems as a leadership candidate may have begun.

As a vice-president of the party prior to the the 1995 vote, Gantefoer expressed concerns about former leader Lynda Haverstock's leadership long before it was fashionable to do so.

In a 1993 internal memo obtained by the media, Gantefoer said Liberals must face the reality that the party had "not provided motivation and direction needed for the party to succeed."

Even if was never meant for publication, Gantefoer's criticisms proved highly prophetic.

Haverstock and the Liberals spent the next two years in an organizational morass. How ill-prepared the Liberals were became evident as soon as the 1995 election started.

The in-fighting between the caucus and Haverstock only escalated after the election, culminating with the leadership confidence vote at the party's November convention.

Although Haverstock won by a mere 22 votes, she was forced to resign under the threat that seven MLAs would break ranks and form a separate opposition if she didn't.

As Haverstock aptly put it: "This is not simply about democracy. This is about war."

Ironically, Gantefoer probably had less to do with Haverstock's demise than others in caucus.

But as one of the first high-profile Liberals to criticize Haverstock's leadership, Gantefoer will be forever seen by some as one of the conspirators that did in Haverstock.

The real danger for the Liberal party right now is the November leadership convention turning into a sequel of last November's ousting of Haverstock.

It could happen in one of two ways.

With Saskatoon career consultant Tom Hengen -- a Haverstock loyalist -- already announcing his leadership intentions, Liberals have to guard against this somehow becoming another battle of pro-Haverstock and anti-Haverstock/pro-caucus forces.

The party should also be worried about the convention being seen as little more than the Liberal caucus members divvying up the spoils from last year's coup.

The performance of this Liberal caucus without Haverstock hasn't really been any better than the party's performance under her guidance. Three, four or five caucus members all competing for Haverstock's job will do nothing to enhance Liberal credibility.

But by putting his ego aside and not running, Gantefoer may be helping avoid both perceptions.

He also may have helped clear the way for the next positive development to emerge from the Liberal caucus -- Ken Krawetz's announcement he will seek the leadership is expected on Aug. 25.

Among the 10 current Liberal caucus members, it is likely Krawetz who has emerged with the most credibility intact. Affable, reasonable, sincere and not nearly as tainted by the Haverstock ousting, Krawetz is not a big a target for the NDP.

Completely avoiding a leadership scrap between caucus colleagues is still unlikely.

It is expected at least Harvey McLane -- at the urging of former party vice-president Hewitt Helmsing and possibly with the support of Glen McPherson and Gerard Aldridge, if they don't run themselves -- will throw his hat into the ring.

But the presence of the easy-going Krawetz in the race does somewhat lessen the chance this leadership will turn into another bitter squabble.

And avoiding any more bitterness is about the most positive thing that can happen in the Liberal party.

Another grab for federal powers

There has always been something slightly disconcerting about the annual premiers' conference.

It's not so much the fact that the 10 premiers get together every August to discuss issues of mutual concern. Obviously, for a country as economically diverse, regionally balkanized and linguistically divided as Canada, it's a good idea for the premiers to work together. There are many ways to define the national interest; one method is for the provinces to try to speak as a single voice on the national stage.

What the conference does is give the premiers a chance to present their version of the common values and priorities that hold Canada together. By deliberately excluding the prime minister and federal government from the discussion, the provinces are able to assert their sovereignty, as they see it, within the constitutional framework of the country. Fair enough.

But the biggest problem with these conferences is that inevitably they turn into struggles for power. They become a lesson in the perils of the nation.

In every single case, the central issue becomes how to change the power structure between federal and provincial governments. Politics is about power: who has it, who wants it, and where is the most appropriate place for it to be exercised.

We saw it all again last week. The conference turned into a debate over how much control of social programs should shift from Ottawa to the provincial capitals. The idea put forward by Ontario Premier Mike Harris, and endorsed by his Alberta sidekick, Ralph Klein, was nothing less than a radical transformation of how we see ourselves as a nation.

The opinion of Harris and decentralists is not dissimilar to the debate in the United States. Most Republicans argue that social policy should be the responsibility of state governments. The theory is the closer the administration and implementation of social programs are to the people they serve, the more responsive the programs are to the varying needs of individuals.

There is self-evident truth in that argument. Moreover, it makes particular sense in a country as regionally and economically segregated as Canada.

Few countries have our vast differences in lifestyle, culture and economy from one region to the next. There is little that links Newfoundland's way of life to that of Saskatchewan. Atlantic Canadians are vastly different from those who live on the Prairies.

There is no natural connection -- whether economic or cultural -- between B.C and Quebec. Then there is the economic and political dominance of Ontario, which casts a long shadow over the rest of the country.

These kinds of divisions within Canada are made even more acute living next door to the most powerful and dominant country in the world. As a result, our entire history as a nation has been an attempt to resist the economic and social influence the U.S. has on us.

When we see ourselves from that perspective, the fragility of Canada comes into better focus. In its, so to speak, natural economic and cultural state, Canada in many ways does not make sense. It exists because we don't want to be Americans. So we constantly search for the shared values that give us an identity and sense of belonging to a national community that can overcome its many cultural and economic differences.

Like it or not, one of the key ingredients holding Canada together is our system of social programs. Just as national policy of the latter 19th century was the crucial instrument of government that allowed Canada to become a viable nation, social programs have been the national policy in the post-Second World War era.

The hard question we face today is whether we can afford the social programs that have been a key part of our national identity. The argument of the decentralists like Harris and Klein is that the way to ensure systems such as public health care and social assistance remain sustainable is by turning exclusive control over to the provinces.

In many ways, there is nothing particularly radical about such a proposal. The BNA Act gave the provinces jurisdiction over health, education and providing "charity", as it was termed, in 1867. But 130 years ago, the idea of government-sponsored social programs like we have today was not envisioned.

So the problem with the idea that provinces should determine social policy, without any firm control by the federal government to maintain national standards is that it reflects the very flaws in Canada we try to use government to overcome.

The reason why rich provinces such as Ontario and Alberta want more power is because they don't like having to conform to national standards imposed by the federal government. They think the national interest is merely a collection of provincial interests.

If that's the narrow and parochial way we ran Canada, it wouldn't exist.

Correcting destructive behavior

Nobody seems to know exactly how big the problem of fetal alcohol syndrome has become in this province. Often it's impossible to determine with absolute certainty the reasons for cognitive disability among young people.

Is it due to alcohol or other substance abuse by the mother when she was pregnant? Was it due to other environmental factors? Or is it genetically based?

To complicate matters further, the symptoms often aren't detected until a few years after birth, when a child demonstrates learning disabilities and behavioral problems. By that point, more variables have become involved.

As a result, there are no firm statistics on the number of children who have been FAS victims. We only have what amounts to anecdotal evidence that suggests this is a growing and very serious health-care and social problem.

Yet, even to say the incidence of FAS is becoming more common is an assumption. Ann Schulman, executive director of the Saskatchewan Institute on the Prevention of Handicaps, points out that greater awareness might explain why the number of cases seems higher.

"We do know that fetal alcohol syndrome is a preventable tragedy. We also know it is one of the highest known causes of mental retardation in children," says Schulman, who has studied FAS for 10 years and is chairman of the provincial government's advisory committee on FAS.

But what we can say with absolute certainty is that abuse of alcohol or other drugs by expectant mothers can do permanent damage to their unborn children. Of that, there is no scientific or medical doubt.

If ever there was an example of how catastrophic and troubling this issue can be, it was the recent case of the pregnant Winnipeg woman ordered into a treatment program because of her solvent and alcohol abuse.

Still in her early 20s, the woman already has three children, two of them born brain damaged because of her abusive lifestyle. Pregnant with her fourth child, the woman was ruled incapable of caring for herself and was ordered into a treatment facility.

The Winnipeg case sparked an immediate debate that brought individual rights, the responsibility of society and the rights of the fetus into conflict. Should the state be allowed to intervene in a person's life because it does not approve of an individual's lifestyle? Clearly, in many cases, the answer is yes. That's where laws come from.

But when you're an adult, abusing alcohol or sniffing solvents is not against the law. Call it destructive, stupid and even immoral. But illegal? No.

As compelling as the Winnipeg case was, it still does not focus attention where it should. If the state is going to get involved in dealing with fetal alcohol syndrome, it needs to play an activist role long before a situation has reached the tragic and pathetic state of the woman in Winnipeg.

One politician who feels strongly about the FAS issue is Saskatchewan Liberal MLA June Draude.

She does not proclaim to be an expert and admits she draws her motivation from being a mother and grandmother who is deeply troubled that more is not being done to educate people about the hazards of drinking during pregnancy.

Last spring, Draude introduced a private member's bill that would have required liquor stores and licensed establishments to post signs warning about the use of alcohol while pregnant. The Romanow government blocked the bill and it died on the order paper. While admitting Draude was well-intentioned, Health Minister Eric Cline said it was too "simplistic" an approach. He wanted to wait for the recommendations from his FAS advisory committee.

This week, Draude again condemned the government for its failure to act. She noted liquor stores carry messages about drinking and driving and asked why the same couldn't be done with FAS.

"I know this is not the complete answer to preventing FAS, but at least it's a first step," Draude said. "Yes, we have to break the cycles of poverty and abuse to really get to the root of the problem. However, raising awareness is the first step in dealing with any social problem."

But rather than take even such a modest and so evidently sensible step as posting warning signs, Cline wants to wait for the committee's recommendations. If he acted on Draude's suggestion, he says it would show "disrespect" to the committee, which has been doing its work since 1995.

So when can we expect some kind of response by government to what is an important and socially devastating health-care issue?

According to Schulman, the committee will probably have its final recommendations to the minister within two weeks.

At that point, there will be no more excuses. Rather than put pregnant women in custody, maybe we can be wise enough to teach the right behavior.

NDP Waterloo -- or minor tiff?

There are some people who believe the Romanow government is mortally wounded. They argue it has passed the point of no return, that Roy Romanow has crossed his political Rubicon.

The comparison is made to the final years of the Grant Devine government, when the Tories went into a downward spiral they couldn't escape. The turning point for the Tories was said to be the bitter and controversial debate over the privatization of SaskEnergy.

When legislation to privatize the Crown-owned gas company was unveiled, the Devine government went off the rails. The NDP Opposition seized on the privatization attempt as a betrayal and the issue quickly became a lightning rod attracting all forms of discontent with the Devine government. From that point on, the Tories' fate in the next election was sealed.

Those who believe this government is similarly doomed maintain that health care has become the political equivalent for the New Democrats of what SaskEnergy was to the Tories. In many ways, it's a difficult proposition to dispute.

For example, a person can argue health care is a far more powerful and emotional issue than something as arcane as the sale of a government gas company. A functioning and dependable health-care system is central to people's lives. How it operates is something that touches thousands of people directly, and in a very personal way, every day of the week, 365 days a year.

In this province, no issue is more politically charged than health. For decades, Saskatchewan people have had their sense of personal security intimately tied to the level of health care at their disposal.

To this point in our history, the NDP has been able to dominate, manipulate and effectively control the politics of health care. As far back as 1944, when Tommy Douglas and the CCF were elected, health care was central to their political appeal. Douglas promised to expand accessibility to health care, a process that began with a hospitalization plan in 1948 and culminated in a universal system of medicare in 1962.

But times, and attitudes, change. Not since the original medicare crisis has the health issue been as politically charged as it is today.

We seem to have reached the point at which whether we actually have a crisis in health care is beside the point. What matters is people's perception. More and more, there is the opinion the health-care system is breaking down and making everyone feel insecure and vulnerable.

A good example is the advertising campaign launched by the Saskatchewan Union of Nurses. Billboards around the province carry the message: "Is health care in crisis? Ask a registered nurse."

We have reached the point where any problems in the health system are attributed to reform. Any time someone doesn't get a hospital bed or is discharged before they believe they're ready to leave, it is chalked up to restructuring forced by government underfunding. It doesn't matter if similar decisions would have been made 10 or 20 years ago. In this highly charged atmosphere, the issue automatically becomes political.

The problem for the Romanow NDP should not be underestimated.

Romanow tends to dismiss the suggestion that health care could be his government's Waterloo. He believes when it comes down to the hard-core politics of health, when people must choose who they trust to reform, manage and protect the medicare system, the NDP will win. Political traditions will hold and the NDP's health-care history will let the government navigate through the rough waters of reform.

In one sense, it's difficult to argue with his logic. The fact reform is even happening without a massive public revolt tends to validate Romanow's argument. Certainly, neither the Liberals nor Conservatives would have been able to carry off what the NDP has done to date because they lack public credibility on the health-care issue.

Yet that, too, can be beside the point.

Just as SaskEnergy took on a life of its own and began to represent everything people didn't like about the Devine government, health reform can do the same to Romanow.

Health care has the potential to be even more politically destructive to the NDP than SaskEnergy was to the Tories -- for two reasons.

First, the upheaval in health care tends to undermine NDP support among its own people, while SaskEnergy privatization was seen, ideologically, as the proper move by most Tories. Second, health reform is far more threatening at a personal level and not an abstract issue like the case of SaskEnergy.

With three years to the next election, it might be foolish to predict the NDP's demise. No more foolish, however, than predicting it will survive the politics of health care.

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