“For where is the justice in a country in which an individual has the freedom to be totally fulfilled, but where inequality denies him the means? And how can we call a society just unless it is organized in such a way as to give each his due, regardless of his state of birth, his means, or his health?” – Pierre Trudeau.
By the time I immigrated to Canada on 4 September 1977, Trudeaumania had lost its glamour. Yet, Pierre Trudeau was on his third mandate as a prime minister, turning his government into a majority once again. He won over Robert Stanfield, the leader of the Progressive Party, by a margin of 46 seats (141 v. 95). Being a newcomer with a degree in Political Science, it was imperative for me to follow closely the nuts and bolts of Canadian politics. But then I am always liberal and progressive in nature so the Liberal Party is more likely my own kind of a political party. When I read more about the details of his life, I just can’t help myself but to place him high above the pantheon of leaders and politicians I have known so far. To me, he represents the quintessential politician who aptly fits Plato’s description of a Philosopher King. “He haunts us still,” said Stephen Clarkson & Christina McCall in their book, Trudeau and our Times, Volume 1, The Magnificent Obsession (1991), although Trudeau had been out of politics for seven years when he formally retired on 30 June 1984. Who is this man?
One thing for sure is that he was not an ordinary person having been born to a rich family. The lucky draw of birth gave him better opportunities in life. Trudeau would get the very best education. A private school, no doubt, would be on the list. He attended the prestigious Collège Jean-de-Brébeuf, a French private school run by the Jesuits. And as they say, a Jesuit education gives one the advantages in life, such as, intellectual competence, an openness to growth and a commitment to pursuing justice (all these three characteristics were visible in Trudeau’s style of politics.) His personal motto was “reason before passion”. Trudeau went on to receive a law degree at the Université de Montréal, studied for a master in political economy at Harvard University, and entered a doctoral program under the tutelage of socialist economist Harold Laski at the London School of Economics. He continued his education by embarking a whirlwind of travels around the world in the summer of 1948. At the age of twenty-eight, he travelled to Poland, Czechoslovakia, Austria, Hungary, Yugoslavia, Bulgaria, Turkey, Middle East (including Jordan and Iraq), Pakistan, India, China, and Japan.
His first baptism of politics was when he actively supported the workers in the Asbestos strike against the Duplessis government in 1949. At that time, Quebec was undergoing what’s called the Quiet Revolution to counter Duplessis’s autocratic hold of Quebec with the help of the Catholic Church. Trudeau co-founded the Cité Libre journal in 1950 to serve as an organ of criticism against Duplessis and the Catholic Church. He was joined by other Quebec intellectuals and artists, the well-known of which were Gérard Pelletier, René Lévesque and Pierre Vallières.
Trudeau was known to do the unconventional things, to be a nonconformist simply because he had the money to pursue whatever he liked. He was always his own man, unafraid of what people think of him. He dared everybody to challenge him, to show him he was wrong but should have the backbone to stand firmly in their arguments and beliefs. Otherwise they would get the stare and sarcasm that could crumble a weak mind into a devastating humiliation. This derring-do attitude was his way of getting attention.
He was also famous for doing irreverent things. Just like when he showed up in the House of Commons wearing sandals and corduroy pants, or when he slid down a banister during a serious political conference, or when he pirouetted behind Queen Elizabeth II’s back at Buckingham Palace, or when he wore a very stylish cape during a Grey Cup game, or when he remained on his seat while other important people fled to avoid being hit with bottles and rocks thrown during a St. Jean Baptiste parade.
The first and only time I saw Pierre Trudeau in person was during the 1979 election campaign. He was out campaigning in downtown Toronto during the lunch hour and I happened to stroll along the Commerce Court Plaza at King and Bay streets. There he was in his beige suit and tieless White shirt, confident and speaking extemporaneously. From where I stood, I could feel his charismatic appeal. He was the type of politician whom you could wholeheartedly and passionately trust your vote. He believed in Canada and had a vision of making the country inclusive for everybody – a just society for all. As a member of the visible minority and still an immigrant, I longed to the day when I would be a Canadian citizen and able to exercise my right of suffrage. Trudeau would undoubtedly get my vote (but I never got the chance!).
Then Trudeau lost the election and I was awesomely shocked with the result. I thought there must be something wrong with the Canadian people. Or perhaps I was too enamored with Trudeau’s personality that I didn’t see clearly what most Canadians feel about him. However, the Conservative government under Joe Clark didn’t survive a confidence vote. In just nine months, there came another federal election. The Canadian people reversed their animosity towards Trudeau and gave him a 44-seat majority (147 v. 103). The 1980 federal election would be Trudeau’s last campaign and I became a Canadian citizen on 25 October 1982.
From that day forward, I only saw Pierre Trudeau through the lens of television. I watched him debate Joe Clark and Ed Broadbent in the 1980 election campaign. I saw him making a fiery speech about unilaterally bringing home the Constitution from Britain to Canada. But during the First Ministers Conference in November 1981, Trudeau got an agreement from all provincial premiers, except René Lévesque, to patriate the Canadian Constitution with an entrenched Charter of Rights and Freedoms. He was also pretty much in the nightly news. When he gave the finger to the angry protesters in Salmon Arm, B.C., it was big news. When his marriage to Margaret fell apart, that was even bigger news. And when he announced his intention to retire, after an evening walk through a snow storm, it was the biggest news of all. I felt heavily saddened that a perfect picture of a great leader would no longer be around. I longed for another politician like Trudeau (his son Justin is not of the same mold though I indirectly voted for him twice). The closest one I thought to have Trudeau’s intellectual bearing was Michael Ignatieff. But in the 2011 federal election, the Liberal Party only won 34 seats. And the humbling part of it all was for Ignatieff to lose his own seat.
Trudeau said, “Just watch me,” when he invoked the War Measures Act to quell the armed uprising of a small group known as Front de liberation du Québec (FLQ) which started the kidnappings of James Cross and Pierre Laporte. Well, I never stopped watching him, knowing full well that he’s that rare of a politician never to be duplicated again in my lifetime. In a rare interview, his son Alexandre talked about the lesson his father learned from the Jesuits: “You take what you are and you thrust it out as hard as you can. And what’s left is what’s true.”
B. W. Powe wrote in his book, Mystic Trudeau: The Fire and the Rose (2007), “Pierre, once more: this is unfinished business. Old friend, here is another reflection on you before you recede into fragments of memory and fading archival footage. Pierre, again, because there is more to say about you, especially to those who may be starting to forget your visionary pride. Your uncanny unfolding won’t rest. Ghostlike you visit, posing unanswered questions. You are still sounding on deep vibrating frequencies.” I, too, still keep you into my memory, not frequent but still vibrating, after more than twenty years of your passing. You remain a remarkable mystery no matter how much we try to know you.
On 7 March 2012, I scribbled a very brief essay entitled “Remembering Mr. Trudeau”. On the last paragraph, I wrote: “Who is the real Trudeau whom Canadians love and hate at the same time? So many books have been written about him, yet no one can claim a definite description of him. He haunts us still even after his death on 28 September 2000. And for a young Filipino immigrant who came to Canada in 1977, Pierre Elliott Trudeau is sketched forever in his mind as the gold standard for political wannabes.”
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Last Word from Mang Kulas, an opinionated & irreverent observer of Filipino politics with a wry sense of humour:
When invited to a public debate, candidate Bongbong said: “I’m a doer not a talker. Debates are useless. Filipinos need food on their tables. They long for the golden era of my father’s presidency. As his namesake, I will do the same.” The electors agreed and gave him the key to Malacañang in a landslide. On the first days of settling in, it was reported that the Marcoses were partying, just like the last time they were exiled to Hawaii. Everybody noticed how ebullient Imelda was on that night. She was dancing to the beat of Lionel Richie’s All Night Long (All Night) and ABBA’s Dancing Queen. She could be heard screaming, “Let the good times roll.”
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Duterte is the most eloquent speaker of all past & present presidents of the country, notwithstanding the senior Marcos’s debating skill. As a candidate, he said: “I will kill all the drug traffickers.” As a president, he intimidated his critics with: “I will jail you all sons-of-bitches and mother fuckers.” And as a former politician, he warned the bleeding hearts and communists: “Don’t mess with my legacy or I’ll screw you.” These are the words of a well-developed mind and he always gets standing ovation from his sycophants.
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Guess who’s resurrected from the dead: Juan Ponce Enrile. At 98, he joins the Bongbong administration as a legal adviser. What kind of legal maneuvering is he precisely murmuring to Bongbong’s ears? Another plot to declare Martial Law perhaps? By the time Bongbong’s term ends, though, he may be actually dead.
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Before leaving the Office of the Vice President (OVP), Leni Robredo received an unqualified opinion from state auditors for four years in a row. In her farewell speech to her staff, Leni said: “I am very proud of our work & accomplishments. I hope the OVP remain clean from corruption as we left it.” Sara Duterte replied: “Thank you Leni for cleaning my seat. My office has already earmarked the cost for the hiring of Molly Maid before I come in. You are truly a good cleaner & a humble loser. Better luck next time!”
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The evolution of Filipino politics can be summed up briefly with this famous French phrase:
“Plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose” (The more things change, the more they stay the same.)
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