Tuesday, May 27 Each election has its share of mysteries, and this one is no exception. What, for example, is the precise ethical distinction between the Reform party's sly insinuation that the leaders of the Liberal and Conservative parties are unfit to be Prime Minister because they come from Quebec, and Jean Charest's blunt assertion that Jean Chretien is not a real Quebecker because he lives in Ottawa? When Alexa McDonough sneers at "male leaders" in stereotypical terms or whips up resentment at "the rich," is she, too, being divisive, or are certain kinds of Canadians fair game?

But of all this election's mysteries, surely the most puzzling is the Liberal pledge to ensure that the constitution of Canada applies differently in Quebec than elsewhere: to be exact, the platform says "a new Liberal government will work with the provinces towards the constitutional recognition of the distinctiveness of Quebec society." It's more than a matter of trying to decipher what this means: until the party is good enough to present us with an actual proposed wording for this potentially far-reaching amendment, we'll just have to take its word that distinct society status "would not accord Quebecers more powers, privileges or money." We do know, however, that it would mean something much more than the vague "symbolic" group-hug we have been presented with in the campaign: the platform makes clear that it would be an interpretive clause, though we are assured it would only "formalize a practice reflected in the decisions of the Supreme Court of Canada, whereby judges take account of the particular context of Quebec in an overwhelmingly English-speaking North America when making decisions on matters that affect Quebec." Translation: if it's about language, the courts will be told to bend. Oh good.

But never mind that: the real mystery in this promise is how it is supposed to come to pass. On the surface, it would seem next to impossible: beyond the usual requirement of ratification by the legislatures of seven provinces representing 50 per cent of the population, there are now two additional constraints on the amending process. The federal government is bound by law not to move any amendment that does not have the consent of all five regions. And the governments of B.C. and Alberta are likewise legally bound not to pass any amendment that has not been approved by a referendum of their own people -- whose hostility to distinct society is well- known. As if that weren't enough, there is the very public opposition of Ontario Premier Mike Harris.

To rule out any attempt at entrenching such a clause, however, would be to reckon without the determination, not to say ruthlessness, of the political class, for whom the population's firm rejection of distinct society in the Meech and Charlottetown rounds is but an interesting obstacle to overcome.

Four possible courses of action, of varying degrees of cynicism, present themselves for consideration.

One, they might dispense with the regional vetoes, and proceed without B.C.

and Alberta. It would not actually be necessary to revoke the five-region law to do this: the legislation, it should be noted, does not promise that parliament would not pass such an amendment -- only that "no minister of the Crown" would propose it. If a friendly backbench MP, quite possibly a Liberal, could be found to sponsor the necessary motion, it could be enacted as a private member's bill. That would still leave Harris to be bought off -- but every man has his price.

Two, if Ontario seemed immovable, they might inveigle the premiers of B.C. and Alberta to find some way around their own referendum laws, and ram the amendment through their legislatures. This is unlikely -- but stranger things have been tried. And if you are going to isolate anyone, stolid Ontario is the best candidate.

Three, they might put it to a vote of the people in the two westernmost provinces, and trust in the persuasive powers of the premiers to see it through. Again, unlikely -- especially in B.C.

So perhaps we are left with a fourth option, more devious even than the other three: maybe the Grits have no intention of proceeding. Maybe distinct society has arrived in a kind of constitutional limbo, always to be endorsed but never to be enacted. Perhaps it has become the equivalent of Clause Four, that line in the British Labour Party's constitution that for decades formally commited the party to wholesale nationalization of the country's major industries, which party leaders cheerfully ignored once in power.

For now, however, the Grits' intentions towards distinct society must remain a riddle. Are we in for some nasty power politics? Or is the clause merely to be entrenched in the constitution of the Liberal Party?