With Parliament in recess, an uneasy calm has settled over the F-35 scandal in Ottawa. Hostilities will not resume in earnest until next Monday when the Commons resumes after its 18-day Easter respite. (You have to hand it to MPs — they really know how to stretch out a one-day stat holiday. But I digress.)
The absence of Question Period may have lowered the decibels, but it has not reduced the finger-pointing. Who is responsible? Who decided there was no need for an independent Canadian evaluation of Canada’s requirements for a new fighter aircraft to replace the CF-18? Why did Ottawa fail to hold a competition to choose the best and most suitable aircraft? With billions at stake, why did it not call for public tenders?
Why did the Harper government claim the cost of the 65 F-35s would be no more than $16 billion (that’s $9 billion for the planes, plus $7 billion for maintenance and training) when it knew the figure was a phoney? The parliamentary budget officer put the cost at $29.3 billion; the defence department reworked its sums and told its minister, oops, the number would actually be more like $25 billion.
Who made the decision to bury the $25 billion figure and to insist in last May‘s election that the cost would be no more than $16 billion, or maybe only $14.7 billion? Who decided it was smarter to lie and to win re-election than to tell the truth and accept the consequences, whatever they might be? Why did the Conservatives claim that the purchase contract had been signed when it hasn’t been?
And when, earlier this month, the auditor general made it impossible to suppress the $25 billion number any longer, who came up with the absurd fable of $10 billion in “sunk” costs that Defence Minister Peter MacKay offered, unblushingly, to explain away the discrepancy?
Finally, why did no one blow the whistle when it become blindingly obvious — the information was available on the internet — that development of the F-35 was years behind schedule, it was not meeting performance expectations, and the cost was soaring out of sight?
Military historian J.L. Granatstein took a stab at the blame game in an op-ed piece in The Globe and Mail last week. He exempted the professionals in the Canadian Forces, up to and including the chief of defence staff, General Walter Natynczyk; as Granatstein saw it, the air force had to peer into an unknown future to recommend an aircraft that would serve Canadian needs now and for decades to come. He gave a virtual pass to the politicians, including MacKay, who based their decisions on advice from MacKay’s department.
Instead, Granatstein fingered the deputy defence minister, Robert Fonberg, who as the civilian link between the military and the cabinet, controls the flow of information to the minister, the prime minister and to the public. “The civilian defence bureaucrats truly wield the power,” Granatstein wrote. “. . . MacKay undoubtedly made mistakes in overselling the aircraft, and Gen. Natynzcyk likely did as well. But it would be a miscarriage of justice if these two lost their heads to the vengeful axe demanded by an aroused media, and the deputy minister and his civilian bureaucrats escaped unscathed.”
I am a huge admirer of Jack Granatstein. He is a Canadian treasure. He was the moving spirit that made the Canadian War Museum in Ottawa happen, and he is an acknowledged expert on defence issues. But I beg to differ with him on the question of ministerial responsibility.
The venerable doctrine of ministerial responsibility was examined anew by Justice John Gomery in his report on the Sponsorship scandal. To paraphrase, ministers are responsible for everything that goes on in their departments. If something big goes wrong — and if it is something the minister knew, or should have known about, or if he failed to take action to prevent it — the minister should resign. If the doctrine means anything, MacKay should resign.
Original Article
Source: guelph mercury
Author: Geoffry Stevens
The absence of Question Period may have lowered the decibels, but it has not reduced the finger-pointing. Who is responsible? Who decided there was no need for an independent Canadian evaluation of Canada’s requirements for a new fighter aircraft to replace the CF-18? Why did Ottawa fail to hold a competition to choose the best and most suitable aircraft? With billions at stake, why did it not call for public tenders?
Why did the Harper government claim the cost of the 65 F-35s would be no more than $16 billion (that’s $9 billion for the planes, plus $7 billion for maintenance and training) when it knew the figure was a phoney? The parliamentary budget officer put the cost at $29.3 billion; the defence department reworked its sums and told its minister, oops, the number would actually be more like $25 billion.
Who made the decision to bury the $25 billion figure and to insist in last May‘s election that the cost would be no more than $16 billion, or maybe only $14.7 billion? Who decided it was smarter to lie and to win re-election than to tell the truth and accept the consequences, whatever they might be? Why did the Conservatives claim that the purchase contract had been signed when it hasn’t been?
And when, earlier this month, the auditor general made it impossible to suppress the $25 billion number any longer, who came up with the absurd fable of $10 billion in “sunk” costs that Defence Minister Peter MacKay offered, unblushingly, to explain away the discrepancy?
Finally, why did no one blow the whistle when it become blindingly obvious — the information was available on the internet — that development of the F-35 was years behind schedule, it was not meeting performance expectations, and the cost was soaring out of sight?
Military historian J.L. Granatstein took a stab at the blame game in an op-ed piece in The Globe and Mail last week. He exempted the professionals in the Canadian Forces, up to and including the chief of defence staff, General Walter Natynczyk; as Granatstein saw it, the air force had to peer into an unknown future to recommend an aircraft that would serve Canadian needs now and for decades to come. He gave a virtual pass to the politicians, including MacKay, who based their decisions on advice from MacKay’s department.
Instead, Granatstein fingered the deputy defence minister, Robert Fonberg, who as the civilian link between the military and the cabinet, controls the flow of information to the minister, the prime minister and to the public. “The civilian defence bureaucrats truly wield the power,” Granatstein wrote. “. . . MacKay undoubtedly made mistakes in overselling the aircraft, and Gen. Natynzcyk likely did as well. But it would be a miscarriage of justice if these two lost their heads to the vengeful axe demanded by an aroused media, and the deputy minister and his civilian bureaucrats escaped unscathed.”
I am a huge admirer of Jack Granatstein. He is a Canadian treasure. He was the moving spirit that made the Canadian War Museum in Ottawa happen, and he is an acknowledged expert on defence issues. But I beg to differ with him on the question of ministerial responsibility.
The venerable doctrine of ministerial responsibility was examined anew by Justice John Gomery in his report on the Sponsorship scandal. To paraphrase, ministers are responsible for everything that goes on in their departments. If something big goes wrong — and if it is something the minister knew, or should have known about, or if he failed to take action to prevent it — the minister should resign. If the doctrine means anything, MacKay should resign.
Original Article
Source: guelph mercury
Author: Geoffry Stevens
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