Sidney Earle Smith
1955–1959
When it comes to your world, I'm lost
With Drew's departure, the Conservative Party found itself in a sorry state with a sorrier future. After the 1953 election saw the party lose Official Opposition to the CCF, the Tories were left with an ever-dwindling, ever-aging and ever-demoralized party— a poor pool to draw from. But nor could they look to the provincial associations, as they existed in remarkable extremes: some were strong enough to form government (as in Ontario) or be within striking distance of it (Nova Scotia), or they were so weak as to be irrelevant (British Columbia, Saskatchewan). Put simply, anyone wanted would refuse, while anyone willing would be of no help. And so the Conservative Party looked beyond elected officials, and came to Sidney Smith.
Smith was the star of the academic world. He had served as the President of the University of Toronto since 1945; before that, the President of the University of Manitoba from 1934 to 1944; and before that, the Dean of Dalhousie Law School from 1929 to 1934. Though he had never held, or even stood for, elected office, Smith was a prominent Conservative donor, lobbyist and activist, so there was no guessing where his allegiances lay. And as soon as his name was suggested off-hand, the party could not shake it.
Indeed, Smith was an attractive candidate. Born to working-class parents in Nova Scotia, his success was entirely his own; yet he was humble about it, joking he "knew the smell of the bilge in a fishing boat before [he] could read." His academic career had taken him to three different provinces, laying roots in each. He had achieved much during his university presidencies: restoring the reputation of the struggling and scandal-plagued U of M, and overseeing major expansion at U of T.
Additionally, Smith was a strong enough candidate to once more prevent the radical Diefenbaker's bid. Diefenbaker had not given up his leadership ambitions; he had spent the Drew years burnishing his reputation and building support in preparation for another bid. By 1955, Diefenbaker's network was strong enough to mount a serious campaign, one that the party was unsure if they could block. But Diefenbaker drew his strongest support from Manitoba, Ontario and Nova Scotia— provinces where Smith had lived, and could conceivably usurp him.
The establishment had their sights on Smith, but were worried he would decline the offer. And so, they first laid the groundwork in a sort of public campaign: mentioning his name to reporters, then letting the media run with it. By the time they approached Smith, pundits and public both had warmed to the idea— and Smith, though still hesitant, answered the call.
As expected, Smith's candidacy was enough to upset Diefenbaker's carefully-built network, as star-struck delegates happily pledged for the accomplished academic; Smith drew particularly large support from Ontario and Nova Scotia, both eager to support their native son (adopted, in Ontario's case). Diefenbaker still managed a respectable 28%, a healthy improvement over his showing in '48— but still nowhere near Smith's commanding 72%.
In what was becoming a trend, Smith stood for Drew's old seat of Wellington South. But, upon entering the House, Smith found himself out of his element. Academia had not prepared him for the vicious cut-and-thrust of politics, and immediately assuming a leadership role gave no time to acclimatize. Smith's initial forays into Question Period were hesitant, cautious and maddeningly unassertive, as he often had trouble getting a word in edgewise. Still, Smith displayed an eagerness to learn and a willingness to accept criticism, and with the election still some time out, none thought much of it; he would come into his own.
Smith's first big test came in mid-1956, with the Pipeline Debate. The Liberal government had decided that a west-to-east pipeline would be necessary to meet Ontario and Quebec's growing energy needs, and tapped the American-owned TransCanada PipeLines, LC to construct it. In a rare display of unity, both the CCF and the Tories objected to TCPL's involvement, under the grounds that an American company ought not be in control or ownership of Canadian resources (though they differed in solution: the CCF wanted the pipeline under control of a Crown corporation, while the Conservatives simply preferred a Canadian company). The two parties pledged to filibuster the project, in hopes it would miss its deadline, fall through and the pipeline project would have to be restarted with a their preferred solution instead. But the Liberals were having none of it, attempting to force closure at every stage, and whipping MPs to do it. But most controversial was when the Speaker of the House reversed a decision to allow further debate on a procedural issue under apparent pressure from the government. The pipeline was ultimately approved, but the whole affair had incited public outage. In truth, the public did not much care about the pipeline, but that only made them more confused and appalled at the Liberals' conduct, as they perceived it as running roughshod over parliament for such a minor issue. Public support for the Liberals fell, and the Conservatives were the largest beneficiary.
Months later, the Suez Crisis provided Smith's second big test. As the United Kingdom and France invaded Egypt to reclaim the Suez Canal, Canada— under direction of Lester Pearson, the Secretary of State for External Affairs— objected to the intervention and called for a peaceful resolution. Pearson's diplomatic efforts averted any large-scale war— for which he was awarded a Nobel Peace Prize— but they didn't satisfy everyone at home; many Canadians still viewed Britain as the "Mother Country", and felt inaction was tantamount to betrayal. Certainly, this would have been an avenue of attack for the Tories to exploit in English Canada— so it was to the party's shock that Smith publicly backed Pearson's policy. It was a principled stand, and one that helped sell Canada's non-intervention to the public; but it hardly helped his own party.
Perhaps Smith saw no need to press the issue. In spite of his still-shaky performances, Smith had emerged as a popular and respected figure across the spectrum, and his party was seeing the benefit. Polls placed the Conservatives at 32%, a close second behind the Liberals (34%) and safely ahead of the CCF (24%). With Drew's failures still fresh, though, the Tories tried not to get too excited— but this was looking like the rebirth of a Tory Canada.
But campaigning was rough. For all that the public was tiring of the Liberal government, the party was still an effective electoral machine; and while St. Laurent was looking increasingly tired, he could still put on a show as genial Uncle Louis. The Tories found it tough to compete; their donor base had shrunk and their infrastructure dried up, and Smith struggled on the trail. Once more, his experience in academia was his undoing; dry and staid, his speeches were more suited to a classroom lecture than a campaign rally. And while Smith and the Conservatives hit the Liberals over their arrogance and lack of vision, Smith was unable to articulate much of a vision himself— most damningly, he could not even give a reason for why he entered politics. As the campaign wore on, the Liberal lead grew while the Conservatives entered a battle for second among the CCF.
In the end, for all that the public was tiring of the Liberals, the had not been convinced to give someone else a shot at government. The Liberals hung onto their majority, albeit by the narrowest margins, at 137 seats; the CCF gained slightly to hit 59; the Conservatives rebounded to 50; and Social Credit hopped up to 19. It was an ambivalent result for the Conservatives; it was their best showing since 1930, but they still fell short of early expectations in the campaign and also failed to recapture Official Opposition from the CCF.
But Smith felt he had let his party down, and decided to re-double his efforts on honing his political acumen by regularly touring the country, meeting people and giving speeches. To Smith's benefit was that St. Laurent had retired and was succeeded by Walter Harris. Harris had long been seen as the heir apparent, serving concurrently as finance minister and house leader— but his time as house leader coincided with the Pipeline Debate, and Harris' public image was irrevocably tarnished by it. Polling revealed a dead heat, but seemed to suggest that, for the first time in a long while, the Conservatives were in the lead— and that the Liberals had slipped to third, behind the CCF. Smith was increasingly seen as the "prime minister in waiting".
OF course, he would never get the keys to 24 Sussex. Smith died suddenly of a stroke on March 17, 1959.
His death was keenly felt; in his years in Ottawa, Smith had earned respect from parliamentarians of all stripes for his friendliness, humbleness and candor. Though protocol didn't require it, Harris nonetheless extended the offer for a state funeral.
To this day, Smith is seen as a "what could have been", and often referred to as "the best prime minister Canada never had." In what is perhaps a sign of fate, the resulting by-election for Rosedale— his riding from 1957-1959— would be won by future prime minister Donald Macdonald.