No rules

So, the day was perfect. Little humidity, azure sky, warm wind, no bugs. Here I was at the Royal Botanical Gardens, in Burlington, just south of the Halton boundary, for one of those now-famous Stephen Harper summer barbeque events.

Of course, being politics, this was a command performance. It was important to be here with other candidates. Show support and respect for the leader. I was proud of the way Esther, Patric, Charlie, Paul, Keith and the other Halton volunteers pounded in signs, manned the booth, handed out literature, talked their candidate up and looked like they knew how to campaign – which they sure as hell do. The machine is well-oiled, well-stoked, motivated, ready to roll.

Not much media, though, and I wondered who’d been in charge of that. One reporter tried very hard to get me on tape questioning Harper’s ability to woo and smooze voters, asking if anyone had been thinking about challenging him before the next election. It was typical media tactics and it made me think of a comment Brian Mulroney said one day. The Tories were about to bring in the GST. The country was in media chaos. Protests were everywhere. The polls were a disaster.

Mulroney stood erect and impeccable at the podium in the caucus room. Outside, just beyond the double doors that sound-roofed the room, a phalanx of media waited, convinced some MPs would buckle under all the pressure, walk up to the forest of microphones, criticize their besieged leader and open the floodgates of party dissention. Just what any good reporter would want, of course. Blood.

And Mulroney said: “If you want to be a media hero, just walk out those doors right now, go down the hall and do it. I guarantee you’ll be on the front page of every newspaper tomorrow and the lead item on the CBC tonight. Go ahead. I’ll still be here. But if you want to be a hero for Canada, then you will stand by me.” He stared into the eyes of everyone in that room. Anyone who harboured the remotest thought of mutiny felt it evaporate under his gaze. Leadership.

Being a media hero is easy, fun and has instant rewards, I thought. Belinda Stronach. Carolyn Parrish. Scott Brison. Getting on the front page of the Globe and Mail and the National Post is a breeze. Just say what they want.

Of course, I told the reporter Harper is our leader. We have only one leader at a time. The leader leads – it’s his job. A candidate’s highest job is to get elected. Unhappy, the scribe wandered away, looking for other prey.

Yes, and Harper spoke well. The crowd ate it up. Afterwards, a long line of people formed to meet him, shake his hand. He flipped burgers for the photographers, smiled into hundreds of faces, answered every question, while looking comfortable and relaxed – unlike a man who had done early morning live radio in Toronto, visited the CNE for a photo op and done a dozen other things most people never will in a lifetime, let alone a day. The price of leadership.

And I was talking to a number of other candidates from the region. There’s a lot of talent there – good people from a variety of backgrounds who want to be members of Parliament. When I asked about their campaigns, some said they were getting ready to launch them next month. The summer had been spent thinking about designing signs, writing brochures, meeting with the riding association and planning fund-raising events.

All of these guys, like me, face incumbent MPs. The Liberals have all these resources at their disposal, and they shamelessly use their householders and postage frank and free long distance and mailers for completely partisan purposes. Paul Martin and his cabinet ministers jet around the country doing political events on taxpayer funds. As the election draws nearer, they will pour assets into any riding where a Conservative looks like a threat. This will turn into a war. And in war, there are no rules. No days off. No downtime. No summer.

It’s Saturday morning now. Dorothy is in the kitchen stapling Voter’s Guides for this afternoon. What can I say?