Rogue Tory

by Denis Smith

  Meighen was disgusted and exhausted by the whole affair. “It was partly,” wrote Roger Graham, “that he had lost his liking for this kind of warfare and had been projected into the leadership against his will, partly the odiousness of the CCF’s propaganda, partly the hypocrisy of the Liberals, as he regarded it, in first announcing that they would not oppose him and then combining with the CCF.” On election day both Meighen and King expected defeat: Meighen with more than a hint of relief, King with dread for himself and the country.80

  Meighen’s intuition was the correct one: he lost to Noseworthy by more than 4000 votes. That evening the drama centred in the House of Commons, and Diefenbaker was in his place to experience it. King’s Liberals had won three other by-elections, and his arch-enemy had been vanquished. King wrote: “When I went in I was given a tremendous ovation, which kept up for a considerable time and was renewed after the Speaker had mildly called order to enable the debate to proceed. When I sat down, I looked straight across at the Tories – Hanson, Diefenbaker and a few others – as much as to say: ‘You have got now pretty well what you deserve.’ To our own men in different parts of the House I turned with a pretty happy countenance, and was given a great cheer. When Coldwell came into the House I nodded him congratulations across the floor. He too looked supremely happy.”81 Diefenbaker recalled that King “laughed uproariously,” pointed across the chamber to the Conservative benches, and cried “Diefenbaker and Hanson, you have your answer.”82

  Despite being singled out as an object of King’s gloating, Diefenbaker’s response to the defeat was not one of complete despair. The by-election stew of truth and falsehood, rumour and accusation enriched his special vision of Canadian politics. It affected his perception of all three parties. The performance of the CCF confirmed the threat offered to the old parties by this band of apparently reckless extremists. The behaviour of the Liberal Party sustained the worst claims about King’s limitless hypocrisy. And Meighen and his Ontario supporters – seen partly through the eyes of his accusers – left the image of a party still managed by an old, elitist clique. All three parties, as John Diefenbaker glimpsed them through the prism of York South, were more or less foreign to him. Instead, he began to see the possibility of another political realm, the product of his party’s failure and his own western experience, in which he might feature as symbol and inspiration. In early 1942 he could scarcely articulate this vision and he had scant evidence that it was widely shared, but that was soon to come. The immediate reality was the defeat of Arthur Meighen.83

  The rejection of Meighen and his campaign for overseas conscription left the Conservative Party in disarray. Late in February Meighen told the parliamentary caucus that he would not try to enter the House again, but would retain the leadership for an indefinite time. He urged them to “adjust their organization as to be in the best possible position to meet the contingency of my retirement” – which seemed to be advice to choose a new House leader who could eventually succeed him as national leader. This obscure counsel permitted the caucus to postpone any hard decisions, and they chose to keep Hanson as House leader until the session ended in mid-year.84

  King handled the contradictory mandate of the conscription plebiscite on April 27 with consummate skill. The National Resources Mobilization Act would be amended to allow for overseas conscription, but none would in fact occur unless it later proved necessary. The Conservatives could fume that the government was doing neither one thing nor the other. Diefenbaker could lament: “What is the purpose of the repeal of this section unless there is to be action?” Yet the Conservatives could not vote against the bill without falling into self-contradiction: for it moved the country a step (if only a step) in the direction of overseas conscription.85

  On the Hong Kong inquiry, the opposition was similarly outmanoeuvred, with disastrous results for party unity. While Arthur Meighen and George Drew urged the caucus to attack the government for covering up evidence of military incompetence through a secret inquiry, Hanson refused to lead the assault. In the atmosphere of wartime censorship, without evidence, without parliamentary leadership, the opposition’s attack was limp. But it left relations between Hanson and Meighen shattered and Conservative tactics unclear. Hanson preferred the realistic effort to devise new policies that would prepare the party for a postwar electoral challenge, while avoiding excessive wartime criticism. Meighen persisted in his fanatic demand for confrontation and conscription. The Globe and Mail commented that “the Conservative group … in the House of Commons has sunk low.”86

  Neither leader wished to maintain his role, but neither knew what his next steps should be. To escape the stalemate, a small group of party activists led by J.M. Macdonnell, H.R. Milner, E.G. Phipps Baker, and Sidney Smith proposed a “round table on Canadian policy” – “an unoffical, unauthorized conference of laymen” that would discuss the party’s future but exclude practising politicians. All of them were concerned to give the Conservative Party a new and progressive face that might check the growing appeal of the CCF. Hanson gave his support, and Meighen cautiously did so as well. Over the summer Rod Finlayson, a Winnipeg lawyer and former secretary to R.B. Bennett, took charge of planning the meeting, which would be held in Port Hope, Ontario, in early September. Finlayson and Macdonnell promoted the meeting in a series of interviews and articles during July and August, proposing a “New National Policy” that would combine the best features of free enterprise with full employment and guarantees of social security.87 Their intuition about the party’s future was congenial to John Diefenbaker.

  On September 4, 1942, 159 delegates gathered in Port Hope to hear the same message from the chairman, H.R. Milner, and the keynote speaker, J.M. Macdonnell. Over four days they produced a series of resolutions affirming their progressive and internationalist beliefs, including support for a wide range of social benefits to be sustained by the free enterprise system. The only concession to Meighen was a muted demand for “immediate and complete conscription” for service anywhere in the world. “Here,” wrote J.L. Granatstein, “was the Conservative answer to the socialism of the CCF. The Tort Hopefuls’ believed in private enterprise, in individual initiative, and in a minimum of state control. At the same time, however, they recognized that another great depression could not be permitted, and that if state intervention was the only way of preventing such crises, they favoured such intervention.”88

  Meighen privately described the conference’s social welfare proposals as “flagrant and mischievous dishonesty” that would “cast away all the traditions of sanity and wisdom which have made us what we are.”89 But his active response was more complex. By this time he had decided to call a national leadership convention, and he set planning into motion. Milner was named chairman of the convention and Richard Bell, secretary. In early October the National Convention Committee announced that the meeting would take place in Winnipeg on December 9-11, 1942. The convention’s resolutions and policy committee would be dominated by members present at Port Hope.90

  Despite his qualms, Meighen recognized that the party would have to move left to counter the CCF and to undercut the Liberals. But he was determined to manage the selection of a new leader, rather than leaving it to the free play of party competition. John Diefenbaker and Howard Green seemed almost certain to be candidates from the parliamentary caucus; George Drew, Sidney Smith, and Murdoch MacPherson were frequently named as possibles; but none of them satisfied Arthur Meighen. A year before, in preparation for the planning meeting that led to his own selection, Meighen had canvassed the Liberal-Progressive premier of Manitoba, John Bracken, over his interest in the leadership. Bracken had declined. Now Meighen set out, through persistent lobbying among influential Conservatives, to draft Bracken. His objective seemed not so much to revolutionize party policy on Port Hope lines as to create a new national coalition that would rally broad postwar support among voters of all parties.91 Bracken had the apparent attractions of a westerner, a non-partisan whose coalition la
bel smudged distinctions while he offered safe, dull, conservative administration. Meighen was convinced Bracken could attract disgruntled Liberals to the party: “the one man whom the march of events and the juncture of fate point to.”92

  Bracken himself was endlessly hesitant. He refused to make any commitment before the convention, while Meighen’s persistent lobby aroused “a swelling chorus of complaint” that the retiring leader and his friends meant to rig the choice of successor.93 Diefenbaker was part of that chorus and he hoped to gain from it. But he, too, had difficulty making up his mind to run. His close supporters in Saskatchewan, among others, assumed that he would do so. Diefenbaker’s Toronto Conservative friend, the lawyer David Walker, put a chill on the prospect in a letter on October 10:

  It was very kind indeed of you to have your friend, Major Keown, the Conservative leader in Saskatchewan, call on me yesterday. He is a delightful personality and is a tremendous admirer of yours. In this matter, we had a great deal in common.

  The Major asked me whether you had been considered as the leader of the Party to succeed Mr. Meighen. I informed him that I had had this matter in mind and had suggested you as a possible leading candidate to many of the people I met at Port Hope from east and west and since that time in political circles generally. He asked me to be frank with him in what reactions I had received and convey to you at once my impressions. Quite frankly, I was disappointed. Most people that knew you conceded that you were one of the most brilliant debaters in the House of Commons with one of the keenest minds and a tremendous fighter. Admitting all your abilities, the people I talked with, for one reason or another, including such silly reasons as your name and physique, refused to consider you seriously as their choice as leader of the Party. Every one of them conceded that you would be and should be a member of the Cabinet.

  Since our friendship would not be worth-while unless we were frank with one another, I know that you will accept this letter in the spirit in which it is written.94

  Walker’s comments were countered in November by those of another Toronto supporter, the businessman George McGillivray.

  I expect you are anxious to hear what I have picked up re the coming convention. In addition Dave Walker told me yesterday of his letter to you which, if I understand him properly, must have been, to say the least, upsetting.

  First let me say this about Walker he did it thinking it a friendly act as you would desire to know the cons as well as the pros, and I think he can be depended upon to support you himself in any way he can…

  I must say that my slant on it is entirely different from his. I think he is dominated to some extent by contact with Sydney [sic] Smith at Port Hope.

  So far as I am concerned I have yet to meet anyone down here who is going to the convention with any preconceived views about how he is going to vote…

  …The purpose of this letter isn’t to build up your hopes. Both Dave Walker & I write what we think. He probably has far more extensive information than I but he is very much in the wrong, I think, if he indicates that the whole thing won’t be anybody’s baby at the convention.

  I think the Conservatives here are making a serious error, following Port Hope, in indicating that their platform is to be “free enterprise” after the war unless they make it far clearer … All they seem to say is that it will be f.e. but not the same as … during the depression. This allows papers like the “Star” to say that we can call it what we will but the industrialist and capitalist will still be in the driver’s seat and there will be little difference.

  I wouldn’t talk about f.e. so much. I’d talk of work for all and security for all & mention simply in passing that it was intended to get back to free enterprise as much as possible but always with the understanding that there would be f.e. so long only as it worked and that if it was necessary for government to step in and for gov’t. to run things to prevent the breakdown that occurred previously then we’re prepared to do it.95

  The author added a postscript: “I’ve opened this up again to urge you to play up your name – Old Dutch stock like Theodore Roosevelt. Work the latter for all you’re worth.”

  While Bracken temporized, four other western candidates finally came forward: Murdoch MacPherson, Howard Green, H.H. Stevens, and John Diefenbaker. A fifth, Sidney Smith, was rumoured to be waiting in the wings as an alternative to Bracken if he failed to show. The party seemed committed to a western, progressive conversion of some kind. Diefenbaker launched his candidacy formally on December 3 by declaring that he had decided to run “when he heard that the convention was likely to be a ‘cut-and-dried’ affair” – a coronation for John Bracken at the hands of Arthur Meighen and the party oligarchy. “It won’t be as far as I am concerned. Delegates to this convention are more than pawns.”96 Diefenbaker, along with the other internal candidates, had no pre-convention organization; like his recent correspondent, he trusted that the whole thing would be “anybody’s baby at the convention.”

  Shortly before the convention, McGillivray wrote to Diefenbaker again with more advice:

  As to what you shall say … it seems to me at the moment that the fight will narrow quickly to you and Bracken … Under the circumstances the point that should carry most weight I would think is an appeal to the delegates as men who have year in & out carried the party load. They know what loyalty to the party means & what it involves. It’s like a lodge only better. You know when you meet some conservatives in the back room that you can talk freely & they take you into their confidence in the same way – no credentials asked. Any man who has worked for the party constantly for 20 yrs. can never let his party friends down and they know it. You can’t serve the party master for 20 years and not be loyal to it whatever happens. But bring in a total outsider & what is the situation. It’s true he’s going to work with you to beat King – but that’s all he’s interested in – he’s not one damn bit interested in the Conservative Party and the time will come when the Con. Party will find it out.

  There will be no one in the running with a better record for hard work and accomplishment than yours.

  They all dream of a great leader just as every girl dreams of a wonderful husband – one that will have all the parts.

  Well there’s never been a great leader yet that in appearance had them all when he started – or actually had them either. He only got them with experience.97

  On the evening of December 8 a party delegation met Bracken to present him with the convention’s draft policy statement, a virtual repetition of the Port Hope declaration. Bracken accepted it, but still hesitated to enter a contested nomination battle in a party not his own. In the hope of carrying his followers with him, and demonstrating as well that he was not simply a candidate of the party establishment, Bracken set his price. He would enter the race if the party changed its name to Progressive Conservative before nominations were filed on December 10. The next day his letter setting out the condition was read to the convention; but instead of cheers – as Meighen expected – it was greeted with shouts of dismay. Bracken seemed to be seeking capitulation rather than sensible compromise. Milner promptly adjourned the meeting for the day.98

  The next morning, debate on a resolution changing the party’s name had to be postponed once again. When it was finally moved by Earl Lawson in the afternoon, it could not be seconded before opponents took to the microphones charging that a premature vote would prejudice the convention in favour of Bracken. Macdonnell saved the meeting from chaos by moving an amendment to postpone the question until after the leadership was decided.

  Now Bracken would have to take his chances with the rest. The setback threw him into renewed indecision; with only a half-hour before the nomination deadline at 8 pm that evening, Meighen could not draw an answer from him. The other four candidates (and Sidney Smith as well, still a potential contestant if Bracken did not appear) waited in uncertainty at the auditorium along with the confused crowd. With only seconds remaining before the close, Bracken arrived in ti
me to sign his nomination papers and make his pitch to the delegates.

  In this bizarre atmosphere, the candidates’ speeches were disappointing, relieved only by moments of surprise, venom, and low comedy. Bracken was uninspiring. Diefenbaker’s nominator, David Walker, was shouted down when he insisted that the new leader “should be a Conservative; a Conservative, not an outsider. We don’t want someone who is going to sell out our birthright for a mess of pottage.” And when Howard Green began to speak, “suddenly, in the midst of a sentence he let go of the microphone, staggered backward, and fell in a faint, amid all the distinguished legs behind him.”99

  According to the same observer, Diefenbaker “was so stiff and starched in his manner I could scarcely recognize him.” His words emerged in a “high, tense pitch.”100 But he had given the speech much thought and he read – unusually – from a prepared text. It was designed both to rally old Conservatives and to attract new ones. Diefenbaker began by contradicting his nominator: “All who have been nominated are worthy men, all of whom I would follow with loyalty and devotion, and if anything comes home to me on this occasion, it is this, what this Party needs more than leadership and policy is the loyalty to leadership, for however courageous and sincere that leadership may be, criticism will come, and we should here and now undertake that, whoever is chosen, we and each of us will not join in the symphony of Government Press abuse.”

  The Conservative Party, he admitted, was near extinction, a condition brought on by defeat, wartime self-restraint, and a tendency to hold on to outworn beliefs. Third parties had risen and fallen for two decades, but the Liberal Party had been the main beneficiary of their decline. Now the Conservatives would have to enter the battle for their votes: “It is not too late to rehabilitate this Party. I am not fearful of the CCF if we stand for principle: if we have leadership that will fight instead of staying dormant. I have no fear of the CCF if we stand for something.” What he stood for incorporated the progressive vision of Port Hope within some old-fashioned values: “We must fight for the preservation of Canada within the British Empire; with the public social minded we must fight for the security of the common man; fight for the return of our Democratic Institutions which are more in danger today than ever before; fight for a fair deal under a system of private initiative, whereby these that I have mentioned, the farmer, the laborer and the under privileged will be assured of the same security that can be provided under any socialistic form of Government, and if it cannot be done (and I do not believe that it cannot), then this Party deserves to perish.”