Lonely, but purposeful: reading the new Liberal leader is a challenge.
Westell, Anthony
Stephane Dion: Against the Current Linda Diebel Viking Canada 280
pages, hardcover ISBN 9780670067442
Stephane Dion came from far behind to win the Liberal leadership on
December 2 last year and, shortly after, Linda Diebel, journalist and
author, met a friend from her agent's office to hash over book
ideas. They came up with the notion of a book on Dion to be written and
published in three months. "Never before has a book owed so much to
a margarita," writes Diebel. Or was it perhaps two margaritas, and
a large glass of the Christmas spirit of optimism? She admits she soon
had doubts about the deadline. But by then the publishing wheels were
turning so she plunged ahead.
Having written in three months one of the first books on Pierre
Trudeau (Paradox: Trudeau as Prime Minister), I have an idea how she
felt. But I had all my material to hand in reports and columns already
published, while Diebel was starting more or less from scratch. With the
help of a research assistant, she seems to have scanned all the
published material and interviewed many sources, including Dion, to
produce an extended version of a profile you might expect to find in a
weekend paper. It is quite an achievement in speed writing, but I expect
she would agree it is no more than a first draft of Dion's life and
times.
Without perhaps realizing it, she raises and passes over an
intriguing aspect of Dion's life that demands more attention: He is
surely the most "European" of party leaders since
Confederation, with ties to France much stronger than any he may have to
the U.S. or the UK. His mother, Denyse--a "force of nature,"
says Diebel--was French and had been raised in Paris during the German
occupation, making her son a French as well as a Canadian citizen. While
still a student at Laval, he met his partner-to-be, Janine Krieber, also
a student and half European; her father was an Austrian and had been
conscripted into the German army before coming to Canada. Both went to
Paris for four further years of graduate studies. Dion obtained the
French these d'etat--a PhD plus a year--and a medal for his study
of socialist and communist communes ringing Paris. Krieber studied
European terrorist groups to discover how middle-class children could
become bombers and political bandits. She has become, says Diebel, an
internationally recognized authority on terrorism, which might come in
handy if Dion ever becomes prime minister.
He was resentful when told, after he became leader, that he must
surrender his French citizenship. The argument, I suppose, was that
there must be no doubt where his loyalty lies, but the number of
Canadians with dual nationality is increasing in an increasingly
supranational world, so the question of whether a prime minister, or
indeed any minister, must resign any other nationality on taking office
deserves more consideration. (For the record, I carry both Canadian and
UK passports, mainly for convenience when travelling, but have not a
shadow of a doubt I am Canadian.)
Dion was not a well-known quantity when he won the Liberal
leadership. Diebel documents his one unmistakable triumph, his
successful battle, when a minister in the Chretien government, to pass
the Clarity Act preventing any Quebec government from claiming a mandate
for separatism on the basis of a less than clear question put to the
people in a referendum. He faced down fierce opposition in Quebec and
seems to have won over popular opinion.
But with Chretien's departure, his protege Dion was out of
favour and out of Prime Minister Paul Martin's first Cabinet. Dion
hung on until Martin lost his majority and, needing to unite the party,
restored Dion to his second Cabinet. Diebel's account of how that
was brought about would not pass the Clarity test:
Senator David Smith, the legendary eight-hundred-pound
gorilla of Liberal party politics,
wouldn't claim responsibility for Dion's return to
grace but acknowledged that he may have had
something to do with it ... "Look Paul," Smith
told Martin. "Every time he speaks, people are
going to be thinking, 'There's a mistake that
[Martin] hasn't fixed yet." Later, Smith would say:
"I've never asked Paul about it, and maybe he had
heard from other people, too. But I saw something
click--you know how you can see that in a
person--and Dion got back in."
Whatever. With the environment portfolio, Dion became a green
crusader and rode the burgeoning issue all the way to the leadership
convention. Naturally, Diebel devotes a chapter to the convention at
which two second-stringers, Dion and Gerard Kennedy, cooperated to
ensure one of them would win rather than one of the favourites, Michael
Ignatieff or Bob Rae. It happened that on the first ballot Dion was two
votes ahead of Kennedy and by prior agreement won the support of
Kennedy's committed delegates.
Diebel provides new items of information and illuminating comments
about these events, but the important information, at least for this
reader, is in her chapters about the shaping of the man and his ideas
during his youth, education and career as an academic before he entered
electoral politics. His father, Leon, was a somewhat frail academic in
Quebec, an advisor to premiers, much respected at Laval but a federalist and out of step with most of his colleagues, who were separatists. In
the 1960s he worked for the Royal Commission on Bilingualism and
Biculturalism, and Diebel seems to credit the language reforms that
followed with arresting Quebec's march to separatism.
To his father's dismay, Stephane was a militant
independantiste in his youth, campaigning for the Parti Quebecois. He
claims, apparently, to have changed his mind during a drunken argument
with a man he encountered while canvassing. It seems much more likely he
was converted in arguments with his father with whom he bonded, and was
looking for a reason to change his mind. Abandoning separatism did not
make him Canadian: he was in Paris during the 1980 referendum and says
that when voters rejected separation, "I was analyzing. I was proud
to have no strong emotion. I was not pro-Canadian or
pro-separatist."
A cold fish, then, one might think, and that impression is still
abroad today, although not to his family, friends and staff, we are
told. When he returned to Canada to teach public administration at the
Universite de Montreal and research power within bureaucracies, he tried
and succeeded for several years to avoid the politics that had derailed
his father's academic career. Ironically, it was not until he was
on sabbatical leave at the Brookings think tank in Washington and when
he was asked to explain what was happening in Quebec that he realized he
had become a federalist. Back home, he became a spokesman for federalism
in the media and in public debate.
When Chretien needed to reinforce his Cabinet, Dion was a fairly
obvious choice. In this way and in others he reminds me of Trudeau, but
without a scrap of the charisma that captivated the public. Trudeau was
one of the Three Wise Men recruited by Lester Pearson because they were
spokesmen for federalism in Quebec. Trudeau arrived at his conclusions
by rigorous analysis of the options. So it seems does Dion. Trudeau was
an academic and intellectual before he became a politician; so was Dion.
Trudeau sometimes appeared to be arrogant, and so does Dion when he is
convinced of the rightness of his views, which is often. Both men have a
style, but while Trudeau was flamboyant, Dion is reserved,
self-effacing; not for him the Mercedes sports car, swirling black cloak
and parade of glamorous girlfriends before the trophy wife. He arrived
in Ottawa by bus and is proud of it. He wears nondescript clothes, often
with a bag slung over his shoulder. Krieber seems to have been his first
and only girlfriend, and they married in 1988, adopting a Chilean child
with whom Dion immediately bonded.
The quintessential image of Dion, says Diebel, is by Toronto Star photographer Richard Lautens. It is a rear view of Dion trudging across
a carpark, carrying his bags: "Dion is slightly stooped, his bony
shoulder blades visible through his suit, his head down. There is a
sense of loneliness about it--and a sense of purpose." It
doesn't sound to me like a winner, but Mackenzie King was not
exactly an exciting personality either.
The Liberals seem at present to be surviving in the polls because
of dislike or distrust of Stephen Harper rather than any liking for
Dion, who, among his other troubles, is being battered by Conservative
attack ads, an almost unheard-of tactic between election campaigns, and
further evidence of Harper's utterly ruthless style of politics. It
would be easy now to write Dion off as a mistake, but he is nothing if
not tenacious and hardworking. If he can find a way to display to the
public the personality he displays to friends, and if Harper continues
to offend the media and to make enemies of the premiers, Dion may yet be
able to gain momentum. Then will be the time for someone to write a more
thoughtful book than was possible for Diebel.
Finally, one of the hazards of writing and publishing at speed is
that errors creep in. In this book I came across three errors of fact
concerning matters with which I am familiar in the first 34 pages. Paris
was occupied by the Germans for four years (June 1940 to August 1944),
not five, and liberated in 1944, not 1945. The FLQ terrorists who
kidnapped Pierre Laporte were not armed with machine guns. These errors
in themselves are not significant but they cause one to wonder if there
are more substantial errors about matters with which I am not familiar.
I am reminded of a comment by a somewhat cynical friend: Editors are not
there to correct errors by the writer, but to add their own.
Anthony Westell is a contributing editor of the LRC.