Just Watch Me

by John English

  * In May, Margaret went to Montreal with Trudeau, but once the Young Liberal convention began on the 26th, she and Justin left for home. According to William Johnson in the Globe and Mail (June 27, 1975), Trudeau then dined with the Liberals on meatballs and shepherd’s pie and fielded questions before he began “freestyle dancing to a hard rock beat.”

  “The hall was hot, girls and women and sharp-eyed men with moustaches formed a close circle around the Prime Minister. He soon doffed his blue suit jacket and decorum and out came swinging Pierre, arms outstretched, fingers snapping, hips swiveling, waist wiggling, legs writhing.

  “The sweat stood out on his forehead. A middle-aged woman reached over the shoulder of the younger women crowding around him and wiped Mr. Trudeau’s forehead. He grabbed the woman by the waist and soon they were whirling around ballroom style dancing.

  “People slapped hands, urging him on. He danced with one partner, then another, as girls and women worked their way to the edge of the circle to be the next one he chose for a few beats.

  “Finally he danced his way to the head of the stairs leading out, put on his coat, walked to the big bullet-proof black limousine, bussed five women on the cheek and aides and guards leaped into their car as he set off to return to Ottawa.”

  * One fascinating example of how private and public blended in Trudeau’s thoughts occurred on November 26, 1976, when he was asked whether Canada should have a national referendum if Quebec had a provincial referendum on separation. Trudeau said that the question was interesting: “It is like in a marriage. We do not simply ask the husband or the wife: do you want a divorce? We ask both of them whether it is working and try to get an answer from both.” Le Devoir, Nov. 26, 1976.

  * Since the late 1960s, Trudeau had publicly indicated that he welcomed the formation of a political party incorporating a separatist platform rather than the many groups, some violent, that had promoted the cause. Although he regretted the election of the Parti Québécois in 1976, he welcomed the chance to confront the separatists directly. An unidentified Liberal minister from Ontario told Lévesque biographer Peter Desbarats before the 1976 election that a separatist victory “wouldn’t be the end of the world. We’ve had the Sword of Damocles hanging over our heads since 1960. A victory for Lévesque might be the catharsis we all need.” The remark reflected the frustration of federal Liberals with Bourassa, but Trudeau was not as optimistic as the Ontario minister that it would now be possible to have a “real negotiation” with Quebec. Peter Desbarats, René: A Canadian in Search of a Country (Toronto: McClelland and Stewart, 1976), 205. For Trudeau’s pessimism about negotiation, see Pierre Trudeau, Memoirs (Toronto: McClelland and Stewart, 1993), 246–47.

  * After a series of incidents between Canada and Quebec over international representation, Lévesque visited France in early November 1977, where he became a Grand Officier de la Légion d’Honneur. Canada objected to this recognition because there had been no consultation with the Government of Canada, as was required when a Canadian received a formal honour in a foreign country. Although the French had invited Lévesque to speak before the National Assembly, Canadian pressure forced them to back down. He would have been the first foreign leader to do so since Woodrow Wilson in 1919. Lévesque did speak to the members of the assembly, but in a different location. Jacques Chirac, the Gaullist mayor of Paris, feted Lévesque and endorsed Quebec separation, while French president Valéry Giscard d’Estaing, who hosted the luncheon where Lévesque received the honour, offered support whatever course Quebec chose. Pierre-Louis Mallen, Vivre le Québec libre (Paris: Plon, 1978), 11ff, and J.T. Saywell, ed., Canadian Annual Review of Politics and Public Affairs 1977 (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1979), 283.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  OFF THE TRACK

  Trudeau’s determination to tackle the Constitution anew, his marriage breakdown drama, and his nimble response to the Parti Québécois victory in Quebec caused most Canadians to forget that between the fall of 1975, when John Turner resigned, and the sudden Liberal recovery in the polls in the spring of 1977, both the Trudeau government and the Liberal Party itself had stumbled badly. Although many Canadians at the time tended to overlook these messy details as they focused once again on Trudeau as their champion, the problems deserve attention: later they would stir from their dormant state and profoundly affect Canadian political life. His government was not as strong as polls suggested in 1977. There was a rot within that endured.

  To begin, wage and price controls appeared to have failed, as Albert Breton, Trudeau’s key economic adviser, had predicted in the fall of 1975. Although some economists later gave the controls credit for breaking expectations of inflation, the overall results were damaging to Trudeau. By early 1977 the decision to implement them seemed wrong: inflation had diminished and now appeared to result more from international than domestic factors; moreover, wage controls had proved devilishly difficult to enforce. Trudeau, in his own later words, “paid a heavy price in lost credibility” for that decision. The controls increased Quebec union militancy, caused bitterness toward the Liberal Party, and probably contributed to the separatist win in Quebec in November 1976. Certainly Trudeau’s caustic remarks about the “hot dog eater” Bourassa, and his decision that year to push ahead with patriation of the Constitution, hurt the Quebec Liberals, if only because they led Bourassa to call an unnecessary election—which he lost.1

  After the wage and price controls diminished Trudeau’s position and his Christmas 1975 remarks about the future of the capitalist system created distrust and confusion within the business community, the Liberals fell in the polls, and the trend continued throughout the following year. The government, which had been largely free of scandal, suddenly faced several controversies that directly involved ministers. André Ouellet, the minister of corporate and consumer affairs and a rising force in the government, was forced to resign in March when a judge found him in contempt of court for comments he had made about price fixing in the sugar industry.* As the Conservatives pressed the issue in the House, Trudeau called them “a bunch of hyenas”—to which came a quick rejoinder from boisterous Conservative MP Patrick Nowlan that members of the Liberal front bench were all “horses’ asses.”

  In fact, several Liberal warhorses were either exhausted or disillusioned. The atmosphere in the House was sulphurous when Jean Marchand resigned angrily from Cabinet on June 30, 1976, to protest the decision favouring the use of English in the air traffic controller dispute. He and Bryce Mackasey later announced that they were leaving federal politics to run in the upcoming Quebec election. Mackasey’s departure followed an interview with Trudeau on September 14, where, like Turner, he came prepared to negotiate but found a prime minister unwilling to reassure, barter, or debate options. Furious, Mackasey told reporters: “It was concern about policy. What the hell, how many battles can one guy fight by himself? You may get a little despondent, you get a little tired, and then you’re not thinking as clearly and you get a little sensitive.” The ebullient Mackasey was popular among the rank and file, and Trudeau himself was fond of the “irascible Irish fighter.” When he announced the Cabinet shuffle that resulted, he told the press that he had tried to persuade Mackasey to stay, but the former minister wanted to pursue different interests. Mackasey retorted that he found the interview a peculiar form of persuasion.2

  The September 1976 Cabinet shuffle occurred with the Liberals at 29 percent in the Gallup poll, their lowest level in thirty-three years. Two more senior ministers left the Cabinet—Charles “Bud” Drury and Mitchell Sharp. Trudeau had always called on Drury, a former brigadier-general and successful businessman, to deal with troubled issues or portfolios, and he missed him greatly. The Toronto Star concluded that the new Cabinet, with many fresh faces but with so many past giants gone, “confirmed that [Trudeau] alone is the government and the government is him alone.” One of the few remaining veterans, Allan MacEachen, almost resigned when Trudeau moved him from External Affairs to Hous
e leader: the normally dour Cape Breton Scot left the swearing-in ceremony after he lashed out at Michael Pitfield, whom many blamed for Trudeau’s troubles.* Other resignations soon followed: Lloyd Francis of Ottawa stepped down as parliamentary secretary and attacked federal bilingualism, as did defence minister James Richardson. On October 18, Trudeau’s birthday, the Liberals lost two by-elections, one of them in John Turner’s Ottawa-Carleton riding, which they had held for ninety-four years. The margin of Conservative Jean Piggott’s victory there was an astonishing sixteen thousand votes. On November 15, Quebec’s election day, Montreal MP Hal Herbert publicly called for a leadership review, claiming that there should be “open recognition of the fact that the leadership is being questioned.”3 These political events profoundly threatened Trudeau’s position, which was very much in doubt before Lévesque took power in late November 1976.

  The remarkable recovery of the Liberals in 1977 derives partly from the public outpouring of support for Trudeau after Margaret left the marriage and partly from the sense, identified by Christina McCall, that Trudeau was the only federal leader able to meet the separatist challenge. Yet many Liberals privately and publicly disagreed with her, and Quebec MPs Hal Herbert and Serge Joyal were not alone in their dissent. Many journalists, and probably the majority of francophones, remained strongly critical of Trudeau’s leadership. Moreover, English-Canadian opinion leaders such as political scientist Denis Smith, author Margaret Atwood, and a swarm of businesspeople in Toronto, Calgary, and Montreal argued that Trudeau was Canada’s greatest problem, not its saviour. There were many reasons for Canadians not to entrust Trudeau with the fight against separatism, they said. Had he not declared separatism “dead” many times in 1976? Had he not contributed to the Quebec Liberals’ collapse? Had he not governed indifferently after the 1974 election? Had not many of the best Liberal politicians of the era walked away from his government? Even Trudeau’s supporters could not strongly disagree with these criticisms.4

  And yet, despite significant weaknesses, Trudeau managed to “turn fortune” in the winter of 1976–77. He once again found his political voice, and it echoed reassuringly among increasing numbers of Canadians. His response to the separatists was constructed on the uncertain bedrock of public opinion, but at a moment when most Canadians needed encouragement, Trudeau’s clarity and apparent determination resonated widely. Later critics, such as André Burelle, a speechwriter of the later 1970s, and political scientists Kenneth McRoberts and Guy Laforest all argue that Trudeau’s insistence on bilingualism as the central response to the separatist challenge and his refusal to consider either special status for Quebec or appropriate decentralization to the provinces were ultimately wrong and damaging. They assert that a more flexible response would have produced a better outcome.5 Yet there is strong evidence that had Trudeau considered such an approach in 1976, he would have lost his legitimacy to lead, not simply because he would have abandoned a promise but mainly because Canadians would not have followed him. Joe Clark did countenance decentralization and some accommodation on bilingualism, and the NDP had historically favoured special status. The alternatives to Trudeau were presented, but Canadians did not want them—hence the shift in the polls.

  The polls indicate clearly why special status and decentralization lacked political appeal. The Gallup poll published on April 9, 1977, asked: “Should the government of Canada negotiate special political and economic agreements with Quebec to try to prevent separation?” This question summarizes the essence of “special status” without using the term. Anglophones opposed these proposals 54.7 to 38.3 percent, an indication that any political party supporting them would have had huge political difficulties. And when Gallup asked Quebecers about the question of special status in July 1977, only 22 percent favoured it, while 72 percent were opposed, with national figures registering 10 percent and 86 percent, respectively. Special status was clearly understood as tantamount to separation by most Canadians, if not in university common rooms. As long as Trudeau was able to “frame” his opponents’ response to the challenge of the PQ as indicating their willingness to bestow special status, he gained politically.

  Trudeau’s emphasis on bilingualism within the public service and among francophone and anglophone minorities in Canada was also seen by many critics as an Achilles’ heel. Winnipeg’s James Richardson, for example, resigned from the Liberal Cabinet because he said the West would not accept Trudeau’s focus on bilingualism. After John Turner resigned, the Liberals decisively lost his seat when the Conservatives and the NDP campaigned on a fairer break for anglophone public servants. Joe Clark’s first speech after the Quebec election suggested that Trudeau’s obsession with bilingualism was a cause of national disunity, and the polls of the day supported his argument. The April 9 Gallup poll, for example, asked: “Should the governments of Canada and the provinces promote and finance more extensive bilingualism throughout the country to try to prevent separation?”* In English Canada, only 27.8 percent said yes, and 64.1 percent said no. Among francophones, however, the answer was very different—56 percent versus 33 percent, even though the PQ and many separatist opponents such as Claude Ryan claimed that the bilingualism focus was wrong, misguided, or foolish.6 On the whole, though, the numbers were far more balanced than any one poll would indicate, and in many areas they were a source of political strength for the Trudeau Liberals.

  When Joe Clark spoke against renewed and expanded support for bilingualism, he reflected the views held most strongly in the western provinces, where he had won 49 seats in the 1974 election, compared with only 13 for the Liberals, of which 8 were in British Columbia. Conversely, the support for bilingualism was strongest in Quebec, where Clark had won only 3 seats, while Trudeau had taken 60. Clark could not therefore expand his support, as he needed to do to win an election. He merely reinforced those areas where he currently had an overwhelming lead. The Liberals also captured 6 seats in New Brunswick, where the francophone vote appears to have been the deciding factor, and one in Manitoba, where it was definitely the basis of victory. Although Trudeau’s support for bilingualism cost him little in the West, it almost certainly solidified his support among francophones outside Quebec—a significant political force in New Brunswick, Ontario, and St. Boniface in Manitoba. For many constituencies, the francophone vote provided a margin of victory. In Quebec itself, moreover, bilingualism was a popular federal cause, even if the PQ and many francophone leaders dismissed it.

  The same balance across the country applied to the devolution of greater powers from the central government to the provinces. Trudeau’s opposition to both special status and decentralization was unpopular with Quebec francophones, but it appealed very much to Ontario. The 55 seats the Liberals won there in 1974 gave Trudeau his majority. Although Alberta strongly supported decentralization, Clark currently held all of its 19 seats. His hopes for a majority depended on Ontario, where Conservative premier William Davis vigorously attacked any mention of decentralization or special status. By the spring of 1977, therefore, Trudeau had found the personal and policy foundations for solid electoral triumph.

  Suddenly, Clark was on the defensive. Jacques Lavoie, the Conservative MP for Hochelaga who had won a stunning victory over the eminent Pierre Juneau in a by-election in October 1975, announced in June 1977 that he was leaving the bickering Tories and joining the Liberals. Even more astonishing was the move across the aisles on April 20 by self-professed Alberta redneck Jack Horner, who declared Joe Clark unequal to the “supreme task” of keeping Canada together. As John Diefenbaker sputtered that the “sheriff [was] joining the cattle rustlers,” Trudeau appointed Horner a minister without portfolio in his government. Soon they developed an unexpected warm friendship.7 The Liberal political team began to prepare for an election after the party won five of six by-elections on May 24, five of them in Quebec. The victories, which saw the Liberal vote rise in comparison with that of the 1974 election, brought credit to Marc Lalonde, who had replaced Marchand as the
government’s Quebec lieutenant. They came less than a month after the Parti Québécois had introduced Bill 1, which declared that French would be the working language of Quebec, thus going well beyond Bourassa’s legislation entrenching French as the sole official language of Quebec. The by-elections seemed to signal that Trudeau had won the first round of the battle with Lévesque.

  On the evening of the by-elections, however, Trudeau unexpectedly said, “Tonight’s victory doesn’t show that we’re in need of a new mandate.” The Globe and Mail did not believe him and remarked in an editorial that “the temptation for Mr. Trudeau to call an early election must be enormous.” In another editorial, it accused Joe Clark of having “squandered” his chances “by his indecision, his fear to be seen to take any position because it might help his opponents, [and] his admission to manipulation—almost like a puppet—by his immediate advisers.” For many around Trudeau, the temptation was indeed great—but then, the announcement of Pierre and Margaret’s separation three days after the by-election win quickly stopped the speculation.8

  Before long, however, the conjectures began again. The “politicos,” the new media assistant Patrick Gossage wrote, would surely see the “image of Trudeau as single father as a sure vote-getter.” And Trudeau was “eligible” once more, eager to seduce and be seduced—or so it seemed to some journalists and a few interested women. His aides began to worry about “hungry women reporters … taking advantage of his interest in blatant charms” and Trudeau responding to their hunger too quickly. At a press conference shortly after the separation, they questioned whether he had paid far too much attention to Catherine Bergman, an attractive, highly popular Radio-Canada journalist. Still, the rising polls did prove the truth of Gossage’s hunch, and the advisers persuaded Trudeau to spend the summer in a round of political barbecues, shrimp festivals, and church basements. Often one or more of the boys were with him: during a tour of the Gaspé in early July, for instance, a picture of the “natural and photogenic” Sacha walking hand in hand with his father appeared on front pages throughout Canada.