For the Harvard-educated Trudeau, who understood better than most Canadians the fragility of federalism and of democracy more generally, the American tragedy was no occasion for Canadian gloating.
On the evening of April 5, the final battle for the Liberal leadership took shape. Each candidate gave a thirty-minute speech after drawing straws to determine the speaking order. Most staged their passage from the convention floor onto the main stage with the traditional accoutrements of populist politics—marching bands, colour-coordinated hats and scarves, and parades of placard-waving loyalists. But even among the traditionalists, there was a sense that such quaint theatrics belonged to a bygone era. To many of the young people in the crowd, the idea that the “Colonel Bogey March” could inspire a new politics for the tumultuous sixties and beyond was simply embarrassing.
Paul Martin led off with a speech centred on national unity, which he identified as “the definitive crisis” in Canadian history. “I believe that I am the man to deal with our current crisis over the next few years when this problem will be resolved,” he said. “I have lived this crisis all my life long—in my family, during my studies, in Quebec and Ontario and during my political career. I understand the frustrations and I am sensible of the aspirations of our principal cultural groups.”25 Paul Hellyer followed Martin with a speech emphasizing his achievements as a Pearson Liberal, including the unification of the Canadian Forces. On national unity, Hellyer took a thinly veiled swipe at Trudeau, as Martin had done and others would also do. “There is only one thing that would put the future of this country into jeopardy,” said Hellyer, “the taking of hard positions before discussions begin.”26
Neither Martin nor Hellyer got much of a rise out of the crowd. Only when they paid tribute to Pearson did they draw ovations beyond their own blocks of supporters. Not so Joe Greene, who took the stage after Hellyer. Greene delivered a showstopper of a stump speech, full of humour and plain talk, perking up nearly everyone in the vast arena. He tore into the Tories for deposing Diefenbaker and played to his rural Canadian base by promising a program of farm subsidies. After Greene, the earlier pall descended once again. Eric Kierans opened his speech with the wry admission that he lacked charisma. “I’ve had a lot more trouble selling my image than selling my ideas,” he said. “Pierre Berton said if he had a magic wand, he would make me prime minister. Unfortunately, Pierre is not a delegate.”27 Kierans then gave a dusty speech on his acknowledged niche, fiscal and trade policy. Robert Winters followed with an address that emphasized sound economic and education policies as the prerequisites to national unity. Allan MacEachen positioned himself as one of the forward-looking young Liberals in the race, and cautioned delegates against voting for old-guard conservatives in the party.
By the time Trudeau took his turn as the eighth speaker, there had already been five hours of speeches. To reinforce the perception that Trudeau was in a class by himself, his young aides sent him to the podium alone, like a prizefighter, without the fanfare of pipe bands or throngs of supporters. Their instincts proved impeccable. There was chaos in the arena as Trudeau tried to make his way through the sea of delegates towards the stage. When he finally took the podium, the entire arena seemed to erupt in shouts of “Tru-deau, Tru-deau!” and “On veut Trudeau! On veut Trudeau!” (We want Trudeau!)
Trudeau gave a characteristically stern, professorial speech to the hushed and expectant crowd. “I am convinced that when the people of Canada are next called upon to judge the Liberal Party, they will be asking not only for achievement and experience, which we can show them. They will also be asking for a renewed expression of imagination, for a sense of national pride and purpose, and for proof of the party’s ability to adapt to rapid change.” He spoke about reform of Canadian federalism and the Constitution. “I have always maintained that our present constitution could be improved. In fact I have recommended many revisions, such as a charter of human rights, and changes in the Senate and the Supreme Court. I would agree to any transfer of jurisdiction which would allow us to be better and more efficiently governed.” Speaking in French, he added, “Masters in our own house we must be, but our house is all of Canada.”28 At one point in his remarks, Trudeau referenced the King assassination and its tragic aftermath in the United States—reminders, he said, of the harsh realities facing the citizens of modern democracies.
By all accounts, the speech struck exactly the right tone. A Globe and Mail editorial praised the solemnity with which Trudeau spoke of the challenges ahead. “There was no lofty oratory in the address Pierre Trudeau gave to the Liberal convention last night. The candidate scarcely raised his voice. He spoke of the looting and the arson and the lawlessness that have followed in the wake of the assassination of Martin Luther King, and he spoke, too, of the troubles that bedevil Canada. It was not the wild ovation that greeted his arrival at the platform as much as the silence that hung over the vast arena while he spoke that measured what the crowd thought of this unconventional man.”29 Barney Danson later recalled the impact that Trudeau’s speech had on convention delegates, him among them. “Trudeau stole the show. He talked about the riots at the Democratic convention in Chicago, the turmoil in modern society, the need for Canada to become a ‘just society.’ The sense one had was that if you agreed with him that was fine but if you didn’t that was fine too. Personally, I was deeply moved, even overwhelmed. While I was intensely loyal to Hellyer, I knew that if he were forced off the ballot, my support would go to Trudeau.”30
John Turner had drawn the short straw and got stuck with the unenviable task of following Trudeau at the podium. Undaunted, he gave a strong and earnest speech, warning delegates repeatedly that he perceived in Canada “an element of rashness, of let’s give it a go, of playing with our future.”31 But Turner could no more inspire the electric atmosphere that Trudeau had brought to the convention floor than the speakers before him.
For the Liberal Party, the evening was a triumph. According to an internal party bulletin, the television broadcast of the candidates’ speeches had drawn 14.5 million viewers, the largest single audience in Canadian broadcasting history.32 If the night had been Pierre Trudeau’s, as his aides believed, all of Canada knew it.
The morning of Saturday, April 6, Trudeau donned a grey suit with light shirt and blue tie, and headed out by limo to have breakfast with a group of Quebec delegates at the Château Laurier. A young woman gave him an orange carnation, which he would wear on his lapel for the rest of the day. At 10 a.m., he was driven to the Ottawa Civic Centre to take his place at the centre of what everyone expected would be a day for the history books—the day Liberal delegates would vote to choose a new leader.
The morning was taken up with a plenary session, which allowed delegates who had been revelling the night before to sleep in. With the first-ballot vote scheduled for 1 p.m., the arena filled in over the lunch hour. Trudeau arrived in his box at 12:50, accompanied by his top supporters—Goyer, Benson, Chrétien, Pépin, Gordon, and Sharp among them. Trudeau’s brother, Charles, was also present, waving a placard and plainly enjoying himself. The outdoor temperature was unusually warm for Ottawa in April. Steadily rising temperatures exacerbated the hothouse political atmosphere of the convention floor. Unforgiving cameras would immortalize the event by beaming real-time images of sweating, anxious Liberals into the living rooms of the nation.
Vote-counting was expected to go quickly, courtesy of a bulky new IBM computer set up on the main stage of the hall. No such luck. Because there was so much riding on the vote and, according to the polls, no likely first-ballot victor, scrutineers ended up supervising the vote counts meticulously and slowing the process down to a very human crawl.
The results of the first ballot were announced at 2:30 p.m., an hour and a half later than scheduled. A total of 2,388 delegates cast ballots. Trudeau came out on top, as expected, with 752 votes, or just under one-third of the total. Hellyer ran a distant second with 330 votes, Winters third with 293. Turner and Martin tied
for fourth place, with 277 votes each. Greene took 169 votes and MacEachen 163. Kierans trailed with 103 votes. The long-shot candidate, Presbyterian minister Lloyd Henderson, got no votes.
Until the first-ballot results were announced, Trudeau had maintained a pose of almost total detachment—like a monk at a Mardi Gras, as one observer put it.33 Cameras were trained on him constantly, but he never acknowledged them. After the first-ballot results were announced, Trudeau broke his aloof stance momentarily to rise, smile, and bow to the crowd. Some of his aides had speculated that his support on the first ballot might run as high as 966 votes. A journalist asked him if his 752 votes had met his expectations. “Not too bad,” he answered coolly. “I have no expectations.”34 He then tossed a grape in the air and caught it in his mouth.
Paul Martin knew the game was up. He withdrew without malice and urged his loyal supporters to do the same. “Over the years, I have learned how important it is to be gracious in victory, and generous and serene in defeat,” Martin told his people. “The country is still going to go on. The party is going to go on, and I am going to go on—stronger than ever.”35 A well-placed camera caught Jean Marchand speaking to Trudeau. “I was sure Martin would receive more,” he said. “With about forty more votes I think he would have stayed in.”36 Trudeau and Marchand made their way over to Martin’s box to show their solidarity, which Martin appeared to appreciate. But he would not commit his delegates to Trudeau or to any other candidate. Barney Danson would later reveal that Martin was “furious” with him for moving, ultimately, to Trudeau.37 But Lester Pearson called Martin’s magnanimity “truly magnificent,” knowing full well that after three shots at the Liberal leadership, the sixty-four-year-old would not get another.38 Trudeau would later appoint Martin high commissioner to Britain, for which both he and his son, Paul Martin, Jr., a future prime minister of Canada, were immensely grateful.39
MacEachen and Kierans dropped out after the first ballot as well, MacEachen moving immediately to Trudeau’s box, embracing Trudeau and donning a Trudeau button.40 Other high-profile Liberals to move to Trudeau’s box after the first ballot included Maurice Sauvé, Herb Gray, and Hugh Faulkner. Kierans announced that he would not be supporting anyone officially.
The scene was set for the second ballot, which for delegates meant a flurry of voting activity followed by hours of anxious waiting. Just before the announcement of the second ballot results, a young woman in the crowd threw a red carnation up to Trudeau. He held it in his mouth, tango-style. A hundred flashbulbs burst.
The second ballot was announced at 5:10 p.m. Of 2,379 ballots cast, Trudeau came first with 964 votes or roughly 40 per cent. Winters moved up to second place with 473 votes, and Hellyer fell to a close third with 465. Turner came fourth with 347 votes, and Greene fifth with 104. MacEachen’s name had appeared in error on the second ballot because of a delay in communicating his withdrawal to party officials. The eleven meagre votes he got on the second ballot confirmed that he had made the right choice in dropping out. But the fact that MacEachen came last on the second ballot allowed Greene, the second-to-last candidate, to remain in the running.
Trudeau did not react to the announcement of the second ballot numbers but maintained his air of indifference. Winters and Hellyer discussed the possibility of a united front on the third ballot but could come to no agreement. Hellyer agonized. He asked loyalist Judy LaMarsh—MP for Niagara Falls and a prominent minister in the Pearson cabinet—whether he should throw his votes to Turner, the only candidate apart from Trudeau whose youth appeared to give him a chance of winning. On camera, LaMarsh could be heard coaching Hellyer to move to Robert Winters’s camp, her voice cracking with emotion. “Go now, Paul,” she yelled. “If you don’t go now you’re only making a Trudeau. Winters is all right. You know him and he knows you. You’re all right with him. And if you don’t get together, you’ll both go down and let that bastard in.”41 (The bastard in question was Trudeau.) Hellyer rejected LaMarsh’s advice and stayed in.
The third ballot was announced at 6:40 p.m. Of the 2,376 ballots cast, Trudeau took 1,051 votes, or just over 44 per cent. Winters came second with 621 votes, followed by Hellyer with 377, Turner with 279, and Greene with a meagre 29. Greene was now forced to drop out. He went directly to Trudeau’s box. Hellyer conceded that he had taken his leadership bid as far as he could and moved to Winters’s box. Turner, who had said all along that there would be no deals, announced that he would stay in the race.42
The results of the fourth ballot were announced at 7:50 p.m.—seven long hours after voting had begun. Exhausted delegates waited for the announcement from the stage. The tension in the air was agonizing. Finally, it came.
“Pierre—E.—Trudeau, one—two—oh—three.”
Even before the words had finished reverberating through the hall, there was pandemonium, accompanied by raucous cheering and thunderous applause. “Tru-deau, Ca-na-da! Tru-deau, Ca-na-da!” cheered the crowd. Trudeau had prevailed, taking 1,203 votes to Winters’s 954 and Turner’s 195. He was now the Liberal leader and Canada’s fifteenth prime minister.
For the first time all day, Trudeau showed genuine emotion, jumping out of his seat with a broad smile to accept the hugs and handshakes of his supporters. It had been a wild and woolly day. Lester Pearson later captured the intensity of the moment. “I have been through some fairly dramatic and exciting moments in my seventy-five years,” he wrote,
but I do not believe that I have ever experienced a more heart-tightening occasion than on that afternoon. I was fairly certain that Mr. Trudeau was going to win, though not on the first ballot. But there were so many other emotional aspects: Mr Sharp joining the Trudeau camp; Mr Martin getting relatively few votes, and his gallant way of taking this defeat. Then there were the adjectives thrown back and forth by Miss LaMarsh and others. There was the getting together of the candidates in full view of the spectators, and in front of the cameras. However, it all made good theatre, and a splendid show.43
Ramsay Cook was so excited about Trudeau’s fourth-ballot victory that he “cried with joy.”44
Trudeau gave a short victory speech to the tired but exhilarated crowd, his orange carnation now bedraggled. “This is an extremely great honour that I have received from this great assembly of Liberals,” he told the delegates, “an honour and a very heavy responsibility. And the only way in which I can show my appreciation for this honour will be to bear this responsibility with all my strength, and with all my energy. Canada must be unified, Canada must be one, Canada must be progressive, and Canada must be a just society.”45
At the end of his acceptance speech, Trudeau invited everyone to join him at the Skyline Hotel for a victory celebration. In light of his popularity, this invitation proved to be a bad idea. A crowd of roughly twenty thousand showed up at the hotel, clogging the lobby and the streets outside. The Ottawa police were called in, ostensibly to restore order. But they may have had ulterior motives. Unbeknownst to convention delegates, a bomb threat had been called in to Ottawa police at roughly 6 p.m., which Liberal officials up to and including party president John Nichol had taken extremely seriously.46 Luckily, nothing came of it.
The morning after his fourth-ballot triumph, Trudeau gave a press conference. The CBC’s Norman DePoe, whose earlier interviews with Trudeau had done so much to establish the justice minister’s credibility, joked with the new leader, starting with his reputation as a contrarian.
“When does Pierre Elliott Trudeau get so popular that you begin opposing him?” asked DePoe.
“Well, I think probably this morning,” Trudeau said with a laugh.
Another journalist asked Trudeau if he was still a radical.
“I’m concerned with new solutions to new problems and many conservative-minded people would call that radical,” said Trudeau. “I don’t care whether the label is radical, or left, or in some cases some solutions might be deemed conservative by some people. You can’t, by laws, make this country greater; you can’t, by la
ws, make it more beautiful or stronger or richer. We have to do that ourselves and this means freeing every potentiality in the individual. We are going to be living in a tough world. I’m saying the future is not for the weak and for the timid. The future of the world will belong to those who build it.”
Trudeau was then asked about his relationship with Quebec premier Daniel Johnson.
“I don’t think there’s been any tension or animosity between Mr. Johnson and myself,” he observed.
How long did he intend to be prime minister?
“My plans really don’t go that far,” said Trudeau. “I think I will try to get my party elected as often as I can. I’m in this game for keeps, if that is what you mean.”47
After the press conference, Trudeau went directly to 24 Sussex Drive and from there accompanied Lester and Maryon Pearson to Ottawa’s Christ Church Cathedral for a memorial service for Martin Luther King, Jr. The next day, before Trudeau discussed the transfer of power with Pearson, reporters were invited to accompany the two men as they walked the grounds of the prime minister’s residence. At one point, gesturing towards the French embassy next door, Trudeau asked, “Do you think we could expropriate that?”48 (It had been eight months since Charles de Gaulle’s “Vive le Québec libre” remark, but the French president continued to meddle in Canadian politics.) Trudeau and Pearson then met in private for several hours. When he re-emerged, Trudeau was carrying some file folders. Reporters asked him how the meeting went. “He gave me some stuff to read” was his only answer.49
In the aftermath of the leadership campaign, Trudeau disappeared from public view. This was not an accident but a deliberate dodge. Over the long Easter weekend, for example, Trudeau’s aides told the press that he was relaxing in the Laurentians when, in truth, he was in Fort Lauderdale, Florida. On April 9, Trudeau met in private with most of the cabinet ministers he had defeated in the Liberal leadership contest. He had made it clear from the moment he had become a leadership hopeful—and again during his acceptance speech—that healing any wounds that might have opened during the campaign would be his top priority. He then plunged into the solitary task of reading volumes of Privy Council documents and briefing himself on all the activities of the government’s various departments.
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