One of the standard bits of boilerplate issued whenever the leader of a democratic country – say, Canada – visits with the leader of a dictatorship – Cuba, for example – is the promise to "raise the subject of human rights." You can travel quite a long way on this political passport; no matter how bloodthirsty the regime or how obsequious your own behaviour, it is enough to have "raised the subject of human rights" to ward off any accusations of truckling with tyrants.

I have always wondered what this means. Okay, you raise the subject.

Where does the conversation go from there? Does the Prime Minister say, "But enough about the weather. Now then, General, what about human rights?" To which the General enigmatically replies, "What about human rights?" Doesn't leave much room for discussion, does it?

More broadly, what exactly do we hope to achieve through "dialogue and engagement," the Prime Minister's preferred strategy for dealing with any and all dictatorships, from China to Cuba with stops in Indonesia, Vietnam and maybe even Burma (but not Nigeria – that's another story.) Are we to believe that human rights and free societies are concepts that have simply not occurred to the leaders of these regimes – that a little friendly nudge from the Prime Minister of Canada, and they will transform themselves into oases of democracy?

In the case of Cuba, it's entirely possible that this sort of naÔvetÈ is at work, given the long history of romantic entanglement between the island and broad sections of the Canadian left. Indeed, it is only lately that many of these people have been willing to concede that Cuba was not a democracy already – witness the extraordinary recent rationalizations by the Speaker of the House of Commons, in which one of the world's most repressive one- party states, a country the U.S.-based human rights agency Freedom House ranks alongside China, Vietnam, North Korea and Iraq for general atrociousness, was compared to New Brunswick under Frank McKenna.

In the Canadian press, accounts of life under Castro are generally written in a sort of undertone of apologia. Yes, they subject dissidents to psychiatric "treatment," yes, they impose prison sentences of up to 30 years for such crimes as distributing "enemy propaganda" and "dangerousness," yes, political parties are banned, the economy is in ruins, workers' rights are non- existent, yes, yes, yes: but they have universal health care. It's amazing how much can be excused by socialized medicine, even if public hospital beds are now reserved for dollar-paying foreigners.

But supposing human rights were indeed our chief concern in Cuba, and not either thumbing our noses at the Americans or protecting the interests of Canadian corporations with investments in the region: is the policy of "constructive engagement," so redolent of Reagan-era semantics with regard to South Africa, the best means of their advancement? Can we actually point to any examples of the success of this approach?

Was it "dialogue" that ended apartheid in South Africa? The best evidence is, no: to the extent that the outside world had any influence, it was the policy of sanctions, mixed with a general air of moral opprobrium, that impressed itself upon the white minority – though if the truth be told, it was the prospect of seeing their beloved Springboks returning to international rugby matches that probably did the most to bring them around.

Was it "consultation" that tore down the Berlin Wall? Did high-level trade and cultural discussions hasten the collapse of the Soviet Union? Bosh. The end of the Cold War was above all a victory for the strategy of containment: neither appeasing Soviet expansionism nor rolling back the frontiers, but slowly, deliberately squeezing until the system finally imploded. Which more resembles U.S. policy towards Cuba, with its long-standing trade embargo, than our own promiscuous readiness to do business there.

That's not to say that it is impossible that Cuba might be the exception, or that Canadian policy is necessarily inconsistent for supporting sanctions in the case of South Africa while opposing them in Cuba. But consistency does require, where two different policies are pursued, that there be a reason for the discrepancy. Is Cuban communism less awful than South African apartheid? Hardly. Is there less potential for sanctions to succeed in Cuba?

That was the Prime Minister's argument, you'll recall, in arguing for more trade with China.

But Cuba could easily be isolated: indeed, we need not even participate in the U.S. embargo, but merely refuse Cuba entry to the new free trade area of the Americas. Instead, we are among the leading advocates of its inclusion – no doubt for the opportunity it presents to "raise the subject of human rights."