At 88 years, John Crosbie’s influence on provincial and national politics was profound and lasting.
By Sheila Copps
First published in The Hill Times on January 20, 2020.
OTTAWA—Canada lost a great one last week in the passing of Newfoundlander John Crosbie.
At 88 years, his influence on provincial and national politics was profound and lasting.
And what most people don’t know is that, at one point, he didn’t even want to be a Canadian. Crosbie hailed from one of Newfoundland’s elite business families.
Many of them, along with the Catholic Church, were opposed to Joey Smallwood’s vision to join Canada believing it would erode their economic and political influence. The Crosbie family had a great reputation as great employers, and they were promoting the idea of a potential link with the United States.
Most Canadians were also surprised last week to learn that Crosbie was a Liberal before the souring of his relationship with Smallwood precipitated an acrid political divorce.
Most people remember Crosbie because of our famous exchange in the House of Commons, when he told me to quieten down baby, and I retorted that I was nobody’s baby.
At the time, Crosbie was also the minister responsible for the status of women, so of course, I was not going to stand for his sexism in the House of Commons.
But what most people do not realize, is that whatever happened between us on the floor of the House of Commons was only part of the story.
Even when Crosbie sang the Tequila Sheila song, and suggested he lie down and love me again, I responded publicly with a harsh critique, but, in private, I understood that our differences stemmed from a generational difference.
He was more than two decades older than me, raised at a time when sexism was not even a recognized ism. In his early days, women were raised to play a supportive role to men. No one had a more supportive partner than Jane Crosbie. At one point, Crosbie said that he actually succeeded because of his partner, Jane, whom he described as “Perfect.”
In those days, politicians could be adversaries in action, but not political enemies. We did not hate each other.
Over the years, we actually developed a unique bond. He kept me on his family Christmas card list and when I married a Newfoundlander in 1994, he went public with a comment that he finally understood my level of intelligence.
It’s show time: Crosbie had mastered the theatre of House of Commons repartee. It was a well-known, inside-the-beltway fact that he and fellow Newfoundlander Liberal George Baker, pictured, would practise their questions and answers even before entering Question Period. The Hill Times photograph by Jake Wright
Crosbie had mastered the theatre of House of Commons repartee. It was a well-known, inside-the-beltway fact that he and fellow Newfoundlander Liberal George Baker would practise their questions and answers even before entering Question Period.
Crosbie aphorisms went way beyond politics.
He was a politician who never put much stock in political correctness. He told the truth, even when it hurt. Sometimes it even hurt him.
When as fisheries minister, he announced the cod stock moratorium, it was the right thing to do but he was met with a torrent of protest by angry fishers. His response, that he didn’t take the fish out of the “goddamn” water, was truthful but not political. His critics crucified him. Some Crosbie retorts caused him big problems in the short term.
When Crosbie was running for the leadership of the Progressive Conservative Party, he responded to criticism of his lack of bilingualism by saying “I don’t speak Chinese either.” That retort killed his chances with French-speaking convention delegates, who made up more than one-quarter of the convention.
Brian Mulroney beat him out but understood his star quality and made him a prominent member of his cabinet, in multiple portfolios.
He went on to continue public service as lieutenant governor of Newfoundland and Labrador after he decided to retire from politics back in 1993.
Our personal sparring continued long after both of us quit the game, as we utilized our unique chemistry to raise money for charities. Our sexist repartee was a great draw and we joined together to raise money at charitable roasts across the country.
Last summer, I had the privilege of lunching with John and Jane in their new home in a retirement community in St. John’s. He entertained us with his personal theme song, I Did It My Way. And then we joined with neighbour Harry Steele as the three of us sang, The More We Get Together, The Happier We’ll Be.
Crosbie was in his element at the lunch, and Jane posted our song session on her Facebook account. And just to show how history repeats itself, on my way out, Crosbie politely said his goodbyes and, as usual, got in the last word. “Goodbye baby!”
Sheila Copps is a former Jean Chrétien-era cabinet minister and a former deputy prime minister. Follow her on Twitter at @Sheila_Copps.
