A salute to the consummate statesman

Prime minister Brian Mulroney will be remembered for many things. He won an election on free trade and opened new economic opportunities for Canadians. He convinced U.S. president Ronald Reagan to sign the acid rain treaty to curb industrial emissions that were devastating Canadian forests. He convinced U.K. prime minister Margaret Thatcher to take up the fight against apartheid in South Africa. He tried twice to bring Quebec into the Constitution “with honour and enthusiasm.” And he enacted the GST, which while unpopular, was a necessary replacement for the Manufacturer’s Sales Tax, which hampered the growth of Canadian businesses.

Those who knew him personally, however, remember him for something else: his humanity. Mulroney was a politician who genuinely cared about people. He was the leader who would take the time to comfort a colleague, or even a foe, if they were grieving the loss of a loved one. He was the loyal friend who famously said, “ya gotta dance with the one that brung ya.” He was the prime minister who made time for young people, not just to hold signs, but to talk with them and inspire them.

I first met Mulroney as a teenager, when his big blue wave washed over Quebec in 1984, sweeping a host of eager young politicos in its wake. We surfed the greatness of the next nine years: two majority governments, the heady buzz of power. There were dizzying highs, but also crushing lows. The failure of the Meech Lake accord stung, as did the defeat of the Charlottetown accord. The exit of Lucien Bouchard, one of Mulroney’s close friends, split the Quebec conservative family and birthed the Bloc Québécois.

But whatever troubles plagued “the boss” at home, on the world stage, Mulroney stood tall. Under his leadership, Canada was a respected ally of the United States, Great Britain, and other NATO nations. Canada stood shoulder to shoulder with our partners in the face of the Cold War and the Soviet threat. Again, Mulroney’s humanity made the difference. He was able to connect with his fellow leaders, earn their respect, and build relationships that served his country’ interest, and the world’s.

Mulroney was also both a partisan and a gentleman. He would fiercely defend his party but acknowledge the worth of his opponents. That’s something you rarely see today. It helped, perhaps, that his political adversaries were also people of character and intellect: NDP leader Ed Broadbent, Liberal leader John Turner, and Bloc leader Bouchard. But it was more than that. Mulroney considered politics to be an honourable profession, and while he could be merciless to his opponents, including some within his own party, he didn’t cross the line into cheap shots and demagoguery.

As prime minister, Mulroney was the consummate statesman. After leaving office, he continued to speak out on issues that mattered to him: foreign policy, the place of Quebec in Canada, and of course, the state of politics and the Conservative party. He was honest in his assessments, and gave praise to those he thought deserved it, even to the current prime minister, whom most Conservatives despise. He didn’t let partisanship blind him, which is also a rarity in today’s hostile climate of tweets and clickbait.

But perhaps the greatest testament to Mulroney’s character is his family. His beloved wife, Mila, was his consummate partner in politics and life, both a loyal spouse and her own woman.

His four children have all gone to lead exemplary and successful lives, despite being raised in the fishbowl of politics. Through them, both Mulroneys leave a legacy that has shaped the political, media and business landscape of Canada, and will continue to do so for the next generation.

And while some mocked Mulroney for his penchant for fine things, like Gucci shoes, at heart he was always the boy from Baiecomeau, humble and true to his roots. When he left office in 1993, he said simply, “I’ve done the very best for my country and my party.” Indeed you did sir. And we are a better nation for your service.