A few weeks ago, the Friends of John A. Macdonald, Toronto held a dinner celebrating our first prime minister’s 200-year-old legacy. Some of Canada’s best known household names were invited to Hart House, partaking in what turned out to be a loving roast of the illustrious Canadian’s record. The content of the dinner’s discussion notwithstanding, the fallout from the event and its imagery quickly attracted the Twittersphere’s anger and disapproval, as two American dressed as First Nations’ people costumed for the party.
Political commentator Steve Paikin’s self-styled “teachable moment” highlights the seemingly irreconcilable gap between counter-histories of Canada and those who have sufficient legitimacy to alter the official record. The Friends of John A. Macdonald’s brave efforts to make Canada’s first prime minister’s legacy an integral part of Canadian society are to be encouraged at all times, even if braver efforts to inclusively reimagine, share, and reassess his admittedly checkered record are needed.
The dinner was altogether jovial, if controversial, as the Toronto Star’s John Honderich played the role of George Brown (Macdonald’s rival contender) while debating Richard Gwyn, who played the role of the famed prime minister for the night. Honderich was quick to point out that, unlike Macdonald, George Brown ran on a platform that encouraged the abolishment of slavery and the extension of the vote to women. The dinner guests shifted uncomfortably at the testy exchange. Gwyn countered with the fact that this was a mere myth, pointing out deeper reasons why he might have been seen to hold such controversial views by today’s standards.
The conversation transitioned into a Q&A after that point, during which famed guests got a chance to ask questions to the deceased John A. Macdonald. Member of Parliament Olivia Chow quickly took the occasion to ask a question about how the prime minister felt, in retrospect, about the poor treatment of Chinese migrants, many of whom were turned away at the border or charged expensive head taxes as a sign of racial discrimination. The issue of Macdonald’s fondness for drink was also addressed with much hilarity, though, with a full understanding that by today’s standards he would face many difficulties reaching similar political heights.
Another uncomfortable moment occured because, as part of the dinner invitation, guests were encouraged to dress in historical attire that reflected the period of Macdonald’s premiership. Many notable names in Toronto’s establishment were present, including John Honderich, Treasury Board President Tony Clement MP, Lieutenant Governor David Onley, St. Paul’s MP Carolyn Bennett, Bob Rae, hedge fund manager Scott Burk, and Mark Warner. While all tried their best to don the appropriate attire, there was a general understanding that the dinner’s goal was to breathe some life into contemporary discussions of Macdonald’s legacy. That costumes were only peripheral. The inexact costume, fashioned together by amateurish but historically minded American guests should not detract from the Toronto Friends of John A. Macdonald’s main effort.
The feedback from the dinner on Twitter highlights a few truths: Canadian history is still the dominion of niche groups with even smaller-knit social relations that often fail to be inclusive of minorities. Canadian minorities are still reduced to a faint awareness of their country’s history, content only in scanning for any trace of cultural appropriation, sexism, or racism in the government-authorized curriculum. This gap, in its obvious divide, holds the key to greater cultural integration of both immigrant groups and secluded Anglo-Saxon enclaves. Indeed, what we need are more efforts to make visible minorities aware that Canadian history’s legacy is not the absolute preserve of seventh generation settlers of Scottish descent. It’s every bit as much theirs to take part in.
Yves Guillaume A. Messy is in his final year, specialising in political science. He is a political commentator on CTV National News.
