Alex Macdonald made us think — and laugh
A sense of mischief: When word spread that he had died, the stories started fl ying
Toward the end of a long life, Alex Macdonald would sometimes visit the B. C. legislature that he inhabited so memorably for so many years.
Those occasions were not to be missed. With an ever- present and unlit cigar in his mouth, Macdonald would hold forth in the corridor, dispensing anecdotes, pungent observations and the occasional pamphlet.
“Why I am still a socialist,” was the title of the last one he handed to me. It came with a winking subtitle: “And it is not because I don’t know any better.” Typical of Macdonald. Even his tracts came with a punchline.
When word spread that he had died earlier this month aged 95, those who recalled his days as one of the wittiest members to serve in the legislature — from 1960 to ’ 86 — were soon swapping Alex Macdonald stories:
• Macdonald, on his feet in the legislature, taunting Social Credit’s brain researcher cabinet minister Pat McGeer: “He has a fine brain, but why does he keep it in a jar?”
• On the difference between the Co- operative Commonwealth Federation, which he joined in the 1940s, and the New Democratic Party, which supplanted it in the 1960s: “CCFers didn’t keep their purposes in a hip pocket like a flask of whiskey to have a pull on when no one was watching.”
• On being appointed attorney general in the province’s first NDP government, the post that his father Malcolm held in the province’s first Liberal government: “It’s been a devil of a long time for the office to be out of the family.”
• On assuming the title of “Queen’s counsel” that had been denied him for many years under Social Credit: “Somebody on the street asked me: ‘ What queens do you act for?’”
• Giving first reading to first financial disclosure legislation for B. C. politicians: “We say that we should let the searching eye of heaven dart its light into every guilty hole. I’m not going to name the author of that but I will just remind you that Richard II lost his life shortly after that line was spoken.”
Only Alex Macdonald could have told the legislature that the NDP government had eliminated the sales tax on books in hopes of improving the quality of candidates for the rival Socreds. Only he had the wit to discount the Socred practice of putting assets into blind trusts by raising the suspicion that “some of those come with seeing- eye dogs.”
Though he served most of his years in the Opposition benches, Macdonald was a key player in the Dave Barrett- led NDP government, handling the energy, industry and trade files as well as justice and attorney general.
His central role in that administration did not prevent him uttering what became one of the most widely quoted lines about the Barrett style of governing, delivered on the floor of the legislature yet: “We have a very democratic leader. The premier puts a motion to the cabinet and he says, ‘ All opposed to this motion signify by saying ‘ I resign.’”
Barrett returned the riposte with a riff on the way Macdonald lived in a waterfront home on Vancouver’s west side while representing Vancouver East in the legislature: “Every few years, Alex puts on his old clothes and takes the bus over to the east side of town to get himself re- elected.”
Still, within the class- sensitive confines of the NDP, Macdonald was sometimes under threat for renomination by those who styled themselves as “true” east siders.
His toughest challenge, beaten back in 1981, came from NDP rival Bob Williams. The experience may have shaped Macdonald’s observation about the distinction between opponents and enemies. “Your opponents are on the other side of the house. Your enemies are all around.”
When he finally did announce his intention to retire, he quoted Shakespeare’s King Lear: “Get thee glass eyes and, like a scurvy politician, seem to see the things thou dost not.” Did the plan to leave make him a lame duck? “Oh, I’ll still quack.”
After surrendering his share of what was still a two- member seat to a young upstart named Glen Clark, Macdonald enjoyed a second life as an instructor and seminar leader in the political science department at Simon Fraser University.
I attended his classes as a guest several times. Once, with his abiding sense of mischief, he’d arranged that the previous week’s speaker had been former Premier Bill Vander Zalm. Not surprisingly, the students demanded to know why the press gallery had been so mean to such a charming man.
The thing that really stood out to me in the Macdonald approach to teaching was the breadth of the discussion and his encouragement of the students. Secure in his own views, he insisted that others parade theirs.
But still time for one more story. With his father and his brother both serving as judges, Macdonald maintained a wellstocked cabinet of stories about the bar and the bench. The following is taken from his 1985 book, My Dear Legs, a series of open letters addressed to his squash partner, Hugh Legg.
Seems there was this judge of the high court who, before passing sentence, asked the accused if he had anything to say.
“Nothing you old bastard!” came the reply.
Whereupon the judge, being hard of hearing, asked the clerk: “What did he say?”
“’ Nothing you old bastard,’” replied the clerk, reading from the stenographic record.
“That’s funny,” said the judge. “I thought I saw his lips move.”
Alex Macdonald, 1918- 2014. Politician, cabinet minister, teacher, socialist, storyteller. He wanted to get people thinking. He also left them laughing.