One year ago, the whole country was in an uproar -- well, the media was, anyway -- over the federal government's alleged mistreatment of Brian Mulroney. Senior ministers gritted their teeth as they explained why they had agreed to settle Mulroney's libel suit, with an apology and compensation for any costs incurred in clearing his name, rather than defend in open court the justice department's notorious letter to the Swiss authorities, with its accusations of "criminal activity" on the part of the former prime minister and others in the Airbus affair.

Indeed, the "Airbus affair" is no longer, if it ever was, about allegations of kickbacks on the sale of airplanes to Air Canada, but rather has come to refer to the hamfisted way the authorities have gone about investigating the case, or perhaps even their subsequent refusal to abandon the investigation or withdraw the letter. Certainly the joint statement that accompanied the Mulroney settlement acknowledged, on the government's part, that "based on the evidence received to date," any conclusions of his guilt "were -- and are -- unjustified." But one year later, it is still hard to see what all the fuss was about. Contrary to innumerable press accounts, it has never been established, nor has the government ever conceded, that it had no evidence to support the allegations against Mulroney -- only that it did not have enough evidence. This is hardly earthshattering. If there were enough evidence to convict, presumably the police would have no need to make inquiries. The presumption of innocence, we should remind ourselves, is an obligation upon the courts -- not the police.

To be sure, the letter is a flimsy business, offering little more than half- remembered versions of television documentaries in support of its claims.

Had Mulroney been convicted on this evidence, had he even been charged, the affair would be worth all the outrage it has excited. But as things stand, we are left with nothing but a bit of private correspondence between two countries' legal authorities, such as one imagines are exchanged every day in the course of their duties. Had it never been leaked, there would have been no libel.

Was the letter overstated? The government has conceded as much -- as it has advised the Swiss authorities on more than one occasion. Was it to be anticipated that it would be made public? Perhaps, though just how this occurred has never been established, which would weigh heavily in any estimate of negligence. But for some of the government's critics, neither the precise wording of the letter nor its publication are at issue. Rather, they contend, it should simply never have been sent, or not without a judge's prior approval.

The letter, after all, seeks access to certain accounts in Swiss banks. Were the accounts held in Canada, proceeds this line of reasoning, the police would have been required to obtain a search warrant, as guaranteed by the Charter of Rights' proscription on "unreasonable search and seizure." Should Canadians be deprived of the same protection, merely because their assets are held outside the country? Indeed, another of those under investigation in the Airbus case, Karlheinz Schreiber, has obtained a federal court injunction blocking access to his own accounts on precisely those grounds.

In answer, one might simply say that if you want the protection of Canadian law, it is usually safest to remain on Canadian soil, where it applies. No one, after all, is forced to open a Swiss bank account. I understand the Canadian banks are quite competent. But in fact the critics are not arguing that the same standards of privacy should apply to assets held abroad as at home.

Rather, the gist of their case is that people who stow their money overseas should benefit from an extra layer of legal protection.

The government's letter does not require the Swiss banks to open their accounts. It does not even oblige the Swiss government to ask to see them on Canada's behalf. The Swiss government could decline to act on the letter.

And if they did choose to pursue the matter, the Swiss bank could tell them, on behalf of its clients, to take a hike. At which point, the Swiss authorities would do what their Canadian counterparts would do, if the account were in this country: go to court, and get a search warrant -- if they could.

What the critics' position amounts to is that the government should have to apply for a search warrant in Canada, merely in order to apply for a search warrant in Switzerland. I'm as protective as anyone else of Mulroney's right to be presumed innocent, and to be secure in his home and his possessions against unwarranted intrusions by the state. But I wouldn't insist that the police should have to ask a judge just to knock upon his door.