Dalton and George

Fri Mar 22 11:19:05 EST 2002

Dear Colleagues:  see the last para.  The connection of Camp and Luscombe struck me as absurd. But I now think that Salutin is making
some telling connections.  I remain incredulous, but I am intrigued by the argument.

Best of Spring,

Denis.

      PRINT EDITION

      Marking Dalton's death

            By RICK SALUTIN

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            Friday, March 22, 2002 - Page A21 

            It is strange to go through this week, politically speaking, without Dalton Camp, who died Monday at 81. The Alliance chose its new leader on Wednesday, the Ontario Tories will do so Saturday. We are left with all the commentators who are not Dalton Camp. They do their best, but it ends up sounding like just more manoeuvring; these could be any parties, straining for power. He wrote with a unique sense of the rich, complex meanings of conservatism going back to the roots of the modern era.

            Coverage of his death was itself a sign of this complexity. The National Post, our most "conservative" paper, didn't mention his death on the front page; it ran a bilious obit ("embittered . . . contempt many Tories still held . . . questioning with increasing helplessness") and a cranky editorial ("We are more generous by nature than Mr. Camp") saying his views "contrasted most strongly with our own." It always gets nastiest in the family. The Globe noted his death on Page 1 and ran an obit inside. Dalton Camp often referred to The Globe but only as "my morning paper," then proceeded to take it down. Yet it really was his morning paper and I never understood why his columns didn't appear in it. It's irritating, he belonged here. Only The Toronto Star, where he did almost all his writing, paid full homage: front-page story, many others inside. Yet the Star is the most liberal (and Liberal) of our big media hoohas. That he roosted there, and was appreciated there, is not a sign of him having moved left but of the entire political spectrum having moved rightward beneath him.

            He came of age during the depression of the 1930s and the world war that followed, which instilled in him and others, regardless of their place on the political spectrum, a sense of the human costs of bad politics. We currently endure a generation of callow leaders lacking that perspective. He was the kind of conservative who once stood for the "organic" wholeness and mutual responsibility of a society, and opposed wrenching change or revolution that could strip people of their sense of belonging in it. Back then, it was liberals (now called neo-liberals) who had blind faith in the benevolent "change" created by the free market, a faith even Adam Smith didn't share. His friend and comrade, Hugh Segal, says Dalton Camp felt in recent years not that he had deserted conservatism but that it had abandoned him.

            His version of conservatism foiled my own sense of impenetrable barriers. He worked for the Mulroney government to pass the free-trade agreement of the late '80s. I once viewed opposition to that deal as a litmus test for anyone I could ever sympathize with politically. Yet I'd be an idiot to consider him anything but an ally and no way an enemy.

            After he left active party politics in the '70s and began writing columns, there began, you can argue, the best, most productive part of his life. When he was supposed to be winding down! The finest years, for some lucky people, really do come after 65. He took on the voices of the new right and the neocons with their glib embrace of the survival of the fittest. Some people felt his heart transplant in 1993 accounted for this radicalism. I don't agree. But it may have intensified his scorn for those who called themselves conservative. If you're walking around because of the heart of a young woman in you, it might well reinforce your sense of mutual responsibility among the members of your society.

            We never really met until last September at a journalism conference in Regina. We drank till late and talked later. I had the rare feeling I'd met someone I felt was older than me -- in the sense that I could learn from his experience and (utterly unpretentious) wisdom. Not older in any other way. He was a lot more youthful than most people you'll ever meet. The next morning, a Sunday, we were on a bloated panel together that went on too long. Partway through, he rose and started off the stage. I thought it might have to do with his bladder. But as he passed, he dropped a note: "I have to call my bookie and lay down my bets for the NFL. Save my seat." I know I'm only one among thousands, but I feel his loss deeply.

            There's been a lot said about his zest, humour, sense of fun. There's a strong case, I think, for that sort of vitality as the sign of a successful, as opposed to just a useful, life. But there's more to it.

            In Guelph last weekend, a theatre was dedicated to the memory of director George Luscombe, a fierce and often dour social critic. A former actor said he always included an entertainment and fun component in his shows, as if to lighten the burden of the heavy politics. But I think the fun is also there to remind people of what the anger and struggle is for: to build a society in which everyone may experience their potential for laughter and exuberance. It's the utopian element, even if it also helps you make it through the bad times with a grim, clenched smile. 
            rsalutin at globeandmail.ca

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'If we rule the world together then we can succeed in peace and let each other be different and have different opinions and different cultures. If there was no diversity then life would be boring. Imagine me looking exactly like you or acting the same way! LIFE NEEDS difference and until we realise it then we will not achieve our hope of world peace!"-Natasha Salter, written on the occasion of her 11th birthday (20 November 01).

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McGill University
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