by Denis Smith
The leader of the opposition kept up his breathless pace of whistle-stopping and overnight flights into early June, speaking half a dozen times or more each day. Diefenbaker had exhausted the handful of national reporters who kept with him through the campaign and showed signs of strain himself. The Globe’s Clark Davey recalled: “At the end of the day he was wiped out … We did not know how he did it. Near the end, he was in Edmonton and he made a speech that was absolutely incomprehensible. It was gibberish.” The crowds didn’t care; they just cheered.70
Diefenbaker knew that the tide was with him, but a lifetime of political defeat had taught him caution. A Conservative majority would require gains of more than eighty-two seats - and no one was predicting that. The country had forgotten about political landslides. Gallup showed growing Conservative support, but a comfortable Liberal lead in popularity. Members of the press travelling with the Conservative leader - a few of whom were unblushing enthusiasts - talked of thirty or thirty-five gains. When Peter Dempson asked Diefenbaker on June 1 for his prediction, Diefenbaker was confident enough to respond, off the record, that he expected to win ninety-seven seats - but that was still thirty-six short of a majority. “I couldn’t believe he was serious,” wrote Dempson. “I decided it must have been wishful thinking on his part.”71
In retrospect, critics suggested that Diefenbaker had ignored or abandoned any appeal to Quebec in 1957. The basis for this claim was two strategy documents written by Gordon Churchill after the 1953 election, pointing out that disproportionate campaign spending in Quebec in 1953 (and earlier) had failed to produce results. To form a government, Churchill concluded, the party should distribute its electoral funds equitably across the country, with special attention to reinforcing strength in Ontario, the west, and the Atlantic provinces.72
When Churchill’s first paper was publicized by the Toronto Telegram’s Judith Robinson in 1954, the Financial Post accused him of saying that “time spent wooing support in Quebec is wasted.” Members of the caucus were displeased, and Churchill “subsided into a discreet silence.” Diefenbaker alone, among his colleagues, told Churchill that “those articles of Judith Robinson’s were good. You were right.” In January 1956, when Léon Balcer became president of the party and publicly forecast twenty-five Quebec seats for the party in 1957, Churchill fumed.
I was annoyed but kept silent. Once again, I thought, we will place the main emphasis on Quebec; once again funds will flow to that province; once again the other areas of Canada will be taken for granted or be neglected. How long and how often would the Conservative Party, in good faith of course, and with the best of motives, immolate itself in a vain attempt to achieve the impossible? To me it was the negation of practical politics. A party exists and struggles in the hope that it will eventually form the government. Its major effort must be in those areas in which it has strength, with the hope that the less favorable areas will not be entirely unproductive.73
Churchill proceeded to write his second paper, “Conservative Strategy for the Next Election,” but revealed it to no one until he had committed himself to Diefenbaker’s leadership. He showed it to the candidate shortly before the convention, and Diefenbaker took note. “The success of the Conservatives in the general election of 1957,” Churchill later wrote, “was not the direct result of my strategy paper of 1956. No such claim has ever been advanced. I had simply set down on paper for the first time a realistic view of politics. By great good fortune an equitable distribution of funds was made in 1957; no area was deprived of attention, the leader had no illusions as to where support could be expected. Quebec was not neglected. The final results, again by good fortune, corresponded with my forecast.”74
This was astute politics. In 1957 the party allocated national campaign funds to provincial organizations in strict proportion to the number of seats, at $3000 per constituency. Quebec, like the rest, received its share, but other regions benefited from a fair distribution as compared with 1953.75 Diefenbaker visited the province three times during the campaign, struggled through one campaign speech in his execrable French, and questioned why his bilingual colleague Donald Fleming could manage only three major speeches in Quebec.76 But in a notable display of prudence, the Quebec campaign was left primarily to Léon Balcer, Pierre Sévigny, Paul Lafontaine, William Hamilton, and the low-key efforts of Maurice Duplessis and the Union Nationale machine. The party’s Quebec forces were divided uneasily between Balcer, with his Duplessiste links, and an ineffective “Comité des Bleus” inspired by Paul Lafontaine, which boasted among its members “the sons of three former ministers in the federal cabinet(s)” of Borden, Meighen, and Bennett.77 The Comité looked backward rather than forward.
As the campaign closed, the Globe and Mail rose above its doubts and pitched enthusiastically for change. “Mr. Diefenbaker is fully competent to become Prime Minister … This is the man, this is the party, Canadians should vote for on Monday,” the editors wrote on June 8.78 On election day the paper spoke to Canadians in Diefenbaker’s own terms:
They can improve their nation, they can improve their own status in it, by getting out and electing a Conservative government headed by Mr. John Diefenbaker.
Mr. Diefenbaker has conducted a most courageous and convincing campaign. He has persuaded countless thousands of Canadians that with him as their leader they can enjoy greater freedom, greater progress, and greater security in both.79
But doubt remained widespread that the Tories could win. On June 8 Maclean’s magazine went to press assuming a Liberal victory. Reporters for three Conservative-inclined newspapers, political scientist Murray Beck observed, “perceived many of the signs of political upheaval, but … generally interpreted them to mean no more than insubstantial losses for the Liberals.”80 The last Gallup Poll before the election gave the Liberals 48 percent of the vote and the Conservatives 34 percent, without any breakdown of seats.81 The American ambassador, Livingston Merchant, cabled Washington that the Liberals would probably win a clear majority with slight losses, commenting that the campaign was “thus far marked by absence of clear national issues and apathy among voters in many sections of Canada. Several Cabinet Ministers including Pearson experiencing tough fight but favored [to] be re-elected.”82
Diefenbaker’s own travelling campaign manager, George Hogan, wrote out his predictions on the last weekend before the poll and handed them to the leader in an envelope. “Not less than 75; not more than 111,” he guessed.
Lib 150
Tory 82
CCF 20
Socred 7
Others 6
265
Hogan saw the campaign as a preliminary: “We have destroyed the outer defences of Liberal power, and now, for the first time in a quarter of a century, are in a position to attack the fortress itself.” All credit for this achievement, he believed, lay with John Diefenbaker: “not only because of an oratorical marathon that has aroused the nation, but for a political shrewdness that has squeezed the last ounce of advantage from our party’s limited opportunities and limited resources.”83
The campaign’s Ontario manager, Eddie Goodman, was slightly more hopeful. He told Diefenbaker that the party would win between ninety and a hundred seats and would deprive the Liberals of a majority. “If we could win a few in Quebec,” he added, “we could beat them.” Diefenbaker, he recalled, “pierced me with his magnetic gaze and said slowly and deliberately, ‘No, I am going to win. I am going to get the largest block of seats in the House. I feel it every place I go, and while I know that other leaders have believed this in the past, I am sure that the support I am getting from people who are not Conservatives will project itself into seats.’ ”84
“It has been a tremendous fight and I am still in wonderful shape physically - truly amazing,” John wrote to Elmer on June 4.85 He was at his peak as the marathon ended with a mass meeting in Hamilton on June 7. On Saturday, June 8, John and Olive flew overnight from Toronto to Saskatoon (their third overnight flight during the long ca
mpaign), arriving for the early morning drive to Prince Albert, where they would await returns at home. But even now - recalling old failures and humiliations - the leader worried over his own seat, so for him the campaign was incomplete. He gave last minute instructions to Elmer:
Naturally my worry is P.A. You can vote at the advance poll in Saskatoon as you will be absent as a traveller - and then be in P.A. on Election day.
(1) I’ll arrive in Saskatoon on Saturday morning flight June 8th at 6.30 am (Tell Svoboda so he can arrange Radio or T.V.).
(2) Then to PA for Sat and Sunday after seeing Mother if it can be arranged as we leave Saskatoon by car at 8 am…
(3) Be sure that all the polls are carefully scrutineered and if a school for scrutineers could be held to go over their rights and duties it would help an awful lot. (Ask Art Pearson re this)
(4) Art phoned that they would have a reception on Sat. (that’s fine) -do they want me to make a rapid run through the Constituency - if so it should be put over Radio showing time when I will be at each place. (This is just a suggestion - It might be better for me to be on Central Avenue on Saturday afternoon.)
(5) Every vote will count so be sure that cars will be picking up all those people on North side of River before 7.15 am - so that Clyne H. and his friends won’t beat us to the draw. I have told Art P about this. Tell him to excuse repetition…
…I am feeling fine.
Give Miss Pound and all in the Committee Room my best.
John86
Despite the candidate’s anxieties, the local campaign seemed well in hand. The city was saturated in politics, perhaps slightly bored, and ready for a decision. After some routine mainstreeting on Saturday in company with a retinue of political friends, Diefenbaker, looking “drawn and tired,” set out for a final meeting in Nipawin. There he predicted victory in public for the first time: “On Monday,” he told his friendly audience, “I’ll be prime minister.”87
LIKE HIS CAMPAIGN WORKERS, DIEFENBAKER WAS UP EARLY ON ELECTION DAY. THE weather was wet and cool. John and Olive voted early at a poll three blocks from the house, and then the local boy mainstreeted down the hill from home for most of the morning. “He walked the length of the main part of Central Avenue and back, shaking hands and greeting old friends, tossing off a quip to one, an inquiry to another, and of course never at a loss for a name.”88 In the afternoon he slept, to be awakened only with the early returns from the Atlantic provinces.
In the company of Allister Grosart, Elmer, Olive, and the Connells, Diefenbaker received the early results at home on CBC radio in a mood of growing exultation. Twenty-one seats in the Atlantic provinces - a gain of fifteen; nine in Quebec - a gain of five; sixty-one in Ontario - a stunning gain of twenty-eight. By the time the count reached the Ontario-Manitoba border, eight ministers - including the giant C.D. Howe - had lost their seats and an unbelievable Conservative victory looked likely. At home in Prince Albert, Diefenbaker took his lead in the first poll reporting and never looked back. By the end of the count he had a 6500-vote advantage over the second-place CCF candidate. The Chief and his entourage trooped downtown to the campaign committee rooms in the Lincoln Hotel as first reports from western Canada began to cascade in. There, too, the Liberals trailed, but prairie and British Columbia victories were shared three ways among Conservatives, CCFers, and Social Crediters. The Liberals stalled at 105, and the Conservatives moved ahead, though still short of an overall majority. As local and national results were chalked up on tarpaper panels in the Lincoln Hotel basement, the room vibrated with whoops and cheers.89 In the back rooms the whiskey bottles were broken out.
But John Diefenbaker was not present for most of this local drama. In 1957 Prince Albert had no direct link to network television, so the leader had agreed to fly to Regina to appear on CBC television. From the Lincoln Hotel, Diefenbaker was driven to Prince Albert airport for the ninety-minute flight to the south. In the Canadian Pacific aircraft he sat with a few journalists, receiving the latest returns from the pilot’s radio and quietly studying the draft text of his prepared remarks.90 These had been typed on two pages of Diefenbaker letterhead, subsequently torn in half to produce four sheets, and embellished in his own sweeping handwriting. There were originally two variations of the speech, a winner and a loser, but by flight time Diefenbaker had discarded the loser’s paragraph and stroked out the alternative second-paragraph heading, “If Conservatives Win.” That great “if had dissolved in certainty, and Diefenbaker would later deny that he had ever prepared a substitute.91 (The opening and closing paragraphs fitted either victory or loss.) Sometime that evening he added another few handwritten sentences, both impulsive and humble, to his winner’s declaration.
In Regina, confident now that he had won a plurality of seats, Diefenbaker was led to a barren TV studio for the victory address to the nation. This was his public dedication. He faced the camera directly.
My fellow Canadians:
This is a moment not for elation but dedication. The complete results are not yet known but I feel that at this time I must express my deep gratitude and appreciation to all of those whose votes today were cast on behalf of the Party which I have the honour to lead. In joining with me and the Conservative party in our crusade for a new awakening of the spirit of parliamentary democracy, they have shown beyond doubt that ours is a cause in which millions of Canadians fervently believe without regard to party. I acknowledge with warmest thanks the hours of hard work, the good wishes and the devotion of so many of my fellow Canadians to the Conservative Party and myself.
This is a great day for our Party and I believe for Canadian democracy. As for our responsibilities to our fellow citizens we shall accept them I can assure you with the greatest humility. This is not the time to attempt to restate the issues of the campaign. We believe that the stand we have taken on many issues was the only one possible in the light of the facts. We are naturally deeply gratified that we have been endorsed by the people of Canada, but we are not unmindful of the great responsibility which has been placed upon us.
Diefenbaker turned his text slowly to the handwritten page.
I shall honor the trust you the Canadian people have given me.
I shall keep the faith - and maintain the spiritual things without which political parties as with individuals cannot lead a full life. I ask your prayers. With God’s help I shall do my best. “He who would be chiefest among you shall be servant of all.”
He paused to gaze deeply into the camera’s eye, and continued with the last page of typescript.
I now give you my pledge that we shall stand by the principles which we have enunciated during this election campaign. Our task is not finished. In many respects it has only just begun. I am sure that you will agree with me that conservatism has risen once again to the challenge of a great moment in our nation’s history. In answering that challenge we have done our best to express in word and action what we believe to be the will of millions of Canadians from the Atlantic to the Pacific.92
Prince Albert was exultant. In the leader’s absence, his committee rooms had overflowed. A local radio station urged citizens to drive to the airport for “the new prime minister’s” return at midnight. Dick Spencer described the scene:
A dizzying feeling of victory was sweeping the downtown as Central Avenue and the business core filled up with cars and horn-honking drivers. A steady stream of cars moved north over the railway bridge and turned east along the river road to the airport half a mile out of town. Local police constables were despatched by Chief Reg Brooman to help with parking at the airport. A sound car from the committee rooms, driven by Ed Jackson, swept ahead. “John’ll wanna make a speech,” Jackson explained.
An estimated fifteen hundred to three thousand people watched the plane land and taxi to a stop … Flash bulbs popped and a huge cheer went up as John Diefenbaker stepped out of the plane onto the ramp that had been wheeled out. He was dressed in a light grey raincoat. He doffed and waved his grey homburg
and beamed a huge smile of victory. He feigned disbelief at the size of the crowd, raised his arms, shook his head and pressed into a sea of noisy well-wishers.93
Diefenbaker vainly shouted some words from his television address to the cheering crowd, then “tumbled into the lead car for a tumultuous cavalcade back into town” and was swallowed up in the Lincoln Hotel mob. A speech was impossible as well-wishers engulfed him, and he was soon rescued through a back door for the short drive home.94
On Tuesday morning Louis St Laurent telephoned. For the prime minister’s first call, Diefenbaker was absent in town, relaxing for a haircut at McKim’s two-chair barber shop, behind the cigar store and newsstand.95 Eventually St Laurent reached Diefenbaker at home, offering his congratulations and indicating that he expected, after a cabinet meeting, to give his resignation to Governor General Vincent Massey. Overnight the results had stabilized, and there was no doubt about winners and losers. The Conservatives had won 112 seats, the Liberals 105, the CCF 25, Social Credit 19, and independents 4. M.J. Coldwell and Solon Low, the two minor party leaders, had indicated their readiness to cooperate with a new government. St Laurent seemed eager to go.