Prior to Ryan's thunderbolt, a casual observer might have been misled into thinking the Quebec question pitted federalists against separatists. In its wake, it is clear that there are no federalists in Canadian politics, or if there are, they are not to be found among the political leadership in Ottawa or Quebec City. The debate, rather, is between the merely cowardly and the utterly cynical.

For cowardice, it would be hard to match the federal government's performance over the years, of which the nadir was its participation in the black farce known as the 1995 referendum. Since that time, it has been induced, after much internal struggle, to contest the very separatist assumption it had before implicitly conceded: that the secession of Quebec could be effected unilaterally, by the mere ritual of a ballot. No country on earth recognizes such a right. Nor does our own constitution. Nor is the right to secede rooted in any democratic principle, impinging as it does upon the fate not only of Quebecers, but of the Canadian people as a whole.

Yet having exerted itself thus far, the federal government collapses. The unlawfulness of the exercise, it is at pains to point out, should not be taken as an obstacle. After all, as intergovernmental affairs minister Stephane Dion noted yet again in response to Ryan, "there's no question of holding Quebecers against their will." If secession is now against the law, it is simply a matter of changing the law. Quebecers having once pronounced themselves in favour of secession, the rest of Canada would, in Dion's submission, be obliged to let them go. Which sure looks a lot like unilateral secession, even if it is not called that.

But what would the federal government do if Quebec was not willing to wait for the proper forms to be filled out? Would it oppose a unilateral declaration of independence? Would it, that is, uphold the rule of law? And how, assuming secession could be negotiated, could the constitution be changed to make it legal? What amending formula, if any, would suffice?

On these questions, as on much else, the government is silent. The business of saving the country has largely been left to private citizens, notably the indomitable Guy Bertrand, whose own lawsuit challenging the legality of the Parti Quebecois's plans was the basis for the Supreme Court reference.

But you want to know the really sad part? These are the good guys.

Whatever their faults, the federal government is at least prepared to argue that a unilateral secession would be against the law, and that whatever course Quebec chooses, it must be within the limits of the law. That is more than can be said of Ryan, or of that sad, scared puppy of a man, Daniel Johnson.

The present Quebec Liberal leader -- present, in the sense of "for the moment" -- with exquisite ill-judgment, took the opportunity of Ryan's embarrassing outburst to appear beside him at a press conference. Where Ryan advised the Supreme Court not to rule on the question put to it, Johnson boasted that he "wouldn't have asked the question in the first place." The matter would be decided by Quebecers, and Quebecers alone. No court could block the sovereign will of the Quebec people -- well, you get the idea.

Neither of these gentlemen, note, pretends that a unilateral secession is actually legal. It is the considered position of the present and former leader of the Liberal Party of Quebec, that is, to support lawlessness: the overthrow of the constitution, no less, by means of a sort of plebiscitory revolution.

This would be bad enough, coming from the leaders of a provincial party.

But it would also seem to be the position of two of the three federal party leaders: neither Tory leader Jean Charest nor NDP leader Alexa McDonough supports the Supreme Court reference. (Perhaps they are secretly against breaking the law. They just don't want the Court to say what the law is.) This is the tragedy of Canada: a country whose leadership cannot rouse itself to oppose its destruction, not even where this is to be achieved by revolutionary acts. Did I say "cynical"? Try nihilistic.

For his betrayal of the federalist cause, Ryan painted himself as a man of principle. "The question of friendship comes second in these matters. You have principles first, friends second." Some principles. Some friends.