Prime Minister Merkin Muffler looked out the window at the water flowing through the Rideau Canal. Funny, he thought, but no matter how people and their institutions change, and they do change, often drastically, the world around us remains constant. Well, perhaps not constant, but it changes much more slowly…
The Prime Minister was so lost in his reverie that he didn’t hear Spiro Butler, his senior aide, enter. “Ah, Spiro,” he asked, “did you give the story to the Canadian/American Broadcasting Corporation?”
“Yes, sir,” Butler answered. “The CABC will be carrying it tonight on The International.”
Prime Minister Muffler looked at Butler thoughtfully. “You don’t approve…” he tentatively suggested, although he knew it to be true.
“I cannot disagree with the will of the people,” Butler responded weakly, with no real conviction.
“But, you do have your own opinion,” the Prime Minister insisted. “Spiro, you’re not just my aide, you’re a good friend. You can tell me, in the strictest confidence, what is on your mind.”
“I don’t approve of the way successive Canadian governments have slowly sold our resources and sovereignty to the Americans in the name of free trade,” Butler stated, surprising the PM with his anger.
“Free trade,” the Prime Minister replied, measuring his words carefully, “has brought this country renewed prosperity. Unemployment has plummeted, and our dollar -“
“Is no longer our dollar.”
“A good point,” the Prime Minister admitted. “But, Spiro, you know that people cannot eat national pride.”
“No,” Butler agreed, “but you cannot say with certainty that free trade was completely responsible for this economic recovery. Many other economic factors were undoubtedly involved. In the meantime, we’ve been giving away control of our country, little by little, over the years. Now, there’s nothing left.”
“Nothing left,” the Prime Minister repeated under his breath. “Spiro, there’s nothing we can do about it now. The decision was made over 30 years ago.”
“There were other paths to economic prosperity. It didn’t have to be this way.”
“No. With more clearly defined goals and boundaries, perhaps with better consultation, certainly with better bargaining, we might have avoided this fate. Might have. But, again, what’s past is past, and we now have to deal with present real -” The buzzer on Prime Minister Muffler’s desk sounded. “If you’ll excuse me…? Butler left. “Yes?”
“Mr. Prime Minister,” the voice came over the intercom, “there is a reporter from The Times on the line. Should I -“
“I’m not in,” the Prime Minister responded.
“Very good, sir.”
Prime Minister Muffler turned back to the Rideau. He supposed that now that…things had changed, everything would have to be renamed. Ah, well, a small price to pay for the economic security of his people…
The buzzer sounded again. “Yes?” the Prime Minister asked.
“President on line one,” his secretary told him.
With a sigh of resignation, the Prime Minister picked up the telephone. “Hello?”
“Merkin?” the President asked.
“Hello, Richard.”
“Have you made the announcement?”
“It’ll be in all the papers tonight,” Prime Minister Muffler grimly stated.
“Hot dog!” the President, who had never been particularly sensitive to the moods of others, shouted. “I mean…I know how hard this must be for you. Still, when you become Governor of the great State of Ontario, well, that should take some of the sting out, don’t you think?”
“I think I’ll be retiring from public life,” the Prime Minister said. “I’ve been out of law for far too long.”
“I hope you’re not serious,” the President enthusiastically said. “We could use a good man like you.”
“Well, I -“
“I’d love to stay and chat,” the President interrupted, “but I’ve got me some legislation to veto. I’ll get back to you, okay?”
Before Prime Minister Muffler could respond, the line went dead.
And still, the Rideau flowed.