Liberal Party of Canada: The party of billable hours


By Rose Simpson

The last time I had a significant relationship with the Liberal Party of Canada was the year 2000, when, for a short time, I occupied a desk in the election war room of Prime Minister Chretien. I had been chosen by a senior party operative to work there, as a senior writer.

I still have a sweatshirt from that campaign, a grey patagonia emblazoned with Team Chretien in red on the back and a small LPC insignia on the front. It’s a good sweater; it’s really warm and it covers my bum. That’s why I wear it, but I wear it only when it’s cold, and only to walk the dogs around the neighborhood.

I signed a paper saying I would never discuss what went on in that war room — and I never will. Beside, there’s nothing to tell that people haven’t heard from Warren Kinsella, right?

I decided to leave the campaign halfway for a couple of reasons.

I was still in young middle age but the young turks treated me like a senior citizen. After years in the trenches, I was used to that — just did my work and kept my head down. Then someone started a whisper campaign against me.  The innuendo was that I was on the team because of an ill-considered relationship, one I had nearly twenty years in the past — long before I married and had my three children. And long before the 2000 campaign.

I was deeply embarrassed and I walked out.  It would be years before I walked into another campaign.

Two elections ago, I decided to support my local Liberal candidate. I wasn’t looking for any kind of big job, just a way of helping out. I was given the assignment of calling past Liberals to ask them for their support. Halfway into my call sheet, I encountered a longtime Liberal, someone who knew Allan J. MacEachen, someone who grew up in Nova Scotia. She told me she was having a difficult time voting Libera because the party had changed so much and she did not feel comfortable being called a Liberal anymore. I sympathized, said I knew how she felt. Before hanging up, the voter asked me to tell the candidate that she would indeed vote Liberal again. She thanked me for my time; all she wanted was someone to listen.

I was cheered by the experience and thought maybe I could get back on that political horse again. Minutes later, my confidence was shattered. A young Liberal, maybe 25, sat down beside me, said she had been listening to my conversation. She chided me for the way I conducted myself on the call and told me to keep to the script.

“But I got a vote,” I stammered, feeling the redness warm my face.

She shook her head.

“Look, ” she said in a condescending manner. “I know you used to work in the PMO, right? But let’s just stick to the script, shall we?”

I decided not to stick to the script. I left.

I realized that I no longer fit in with the Liberal team, that too much had changed since I began my political career, working for the Liberal Party’s national office on Bank Street. The party was no longer inclusive. It had become too mean spirited, too judgmental, too self-serving.

It had become barely recognizable to me.

When I meet my old colleagues now, it’s never at a political rally — it’s over a glass of $12 Merlot at Hy’s. Not a one of them wants to talk about policy or vision or what’s right for the country. They’re too busy rehearsing their lines for obscure political chat shows — when they’re not counting their billable hours.

Being Liberal has made most of them very, very rich. It has also meant sacrificing principle for what’s winnable.

That’s not why I became a Liberal, but it is why I only wear my campaign sweater just to to walk the dogs.

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2 comments on “Liberal Party of Canada: The party of billable hours”

  1. 9 Dec 2010 at 10:40 pm Paul Park
    reply

    A buddy of mine realized that Richard Mahoney was going down to defeat in the 2006 election when on E-day most of the Young Turks who were asked to get out the vote were too busy checking their blackberries to see how Belinda Stronach was doing in her first campaign as a Grit.


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