By nothing less than an act of Parliament, today is Sir John A. Macdonald Day. And there is much to celebrate about Canada's first prime minister, the Old Chieftain, whose 193rd birthday kicks off the weekend.
Macdonald's leadership and guile were indispensable to the founding of the nation; he built the railway across the Dominion, turning the country into something far more than just "a geographical expression," and he built bridges between French- and English-speaking Canada, laying the cornerstone for successful governing practices in this country.
In the words of Richard Gwyn, author of a highly regarded new biography of John A., he is "the man who made us."
But a look back at Macdonald - a necessary and desirable activity given dismal poll results that indicate how little he is remembered - has particular resonance today because of the colourless and malicious spirit that dominates the political landscape.
A case in point: Just last week this newspaper lamented the personal skills of both Prime Minister Stephen Harper and Opposition Leader Stéphane Dion. Both men, The Globe editorialized, suffered from "a failure to relate to everyday Canadians."
Mr. Dion is "academic" and speaks "dryly." In the case of the Prime Minister, "with his fierce partisanship and an unmistakable mean streak, [he]has been a difficult figure for the public to warm up to."
Both men would benefit from a history lesson from the country's first prime minister. Sir John A. Macdonald had considerable abilities, but ranking high among them was the gift of the human touch and a sense of humour sans pareil in prime ministerial history.
Indeed, the stories of Macdonald's wit are legion. Perhaps the most famous involves the time during a political debate when Macdonald vomited into a bucket next to him. Recovering, he reportedly said, "I don't know how it is, but whenever I hear my opponent speak, it turns my stomach."
He said of the founder of this newspaper, George Brown, that he "knows enough of the feeling of this meeting to know you would rather have John A. drunk than George Brown sober."
In Parliament, there was a genuine affection for others and an absence of malice toward his opponents.
Mr. Gwyn wrote that, "Macdonald crossed swords with his opponents, scoring points but never drawing blood, because, as [journalist Hector Fabre, a contemporary]put it, Macdonald 'was too clever and too well-versed in the knowledge of mankind to be cruel: his executions are always amusing; they extort a smile even from the gloomiest victims.' "
Macdonald was not Canada's only prime minister with an appreciable funny bone, but the list is as short as a crocodile's arm. Jean Chrétien and Brian Mulroney had their charms and, while both had a good sense of humour, neither will be remembered for that trait.
Trudeau, King, Laurier, Borden, St. Laurent: All were serious and talented men but not likely to have given the Rick Mercers of their day a run for his money. Diefenbaker was too paranoid to be funny.
Lester B. Pearson, however, had a well-defined comic sensibility. Mike, as he was known, regularly attended the Parliamentary Press Gallery dinner (take note, Mr. Harper), justifying his presence in 1964 by saying: "In perhaps the less than immortal, but nevertheless profoundly penetrating, words of one of your own critics - it is comforting to think that you have some - 'You can't very well criticize the fellow who got you sloshed the night before.' "
Once, in the prime minister's office with external affairs minister Paul Martin Sr., the red NORAD telephone started ringing but the two men could not find where the phone had been placed. Martin intoned that the call could mean war. "No," Pearson shot back. "They can't start a war if we don't answer that phone."
Is there a lesson here? In fact there are a few. Sir John A. Macdonald was crucial to the founding of Canada. A look back at a formative and formidable personality such as his gives us a sense of who we are and whence we came. That can be an enriching experience.
But our leaders of today would also do well to consider Macdonald's approach. We need less pettiness and more statesmanship in politics. We need leaders who will exude a human touch. We need more Sir John A. and less "screw off, eh?"
In a much-publicized stunt that began last year, Life of Pi author, Yann Martel, has been sending the Prime Minister a work of fiction once a fortnight in the hopes of educating him about the value of the arts. Perhaps Mr. Martel should switch to non-fiction and send Mr. Harper - and Mr. Dion, as well - a biography of Sir John A. Macdonald.
It would be a fitting gift to celebrate "the man who made us."
J.D.M. Stewart teaches Canadian history at the Bishop Strachan School in Toronto