Finding Ed Broadbent

Unassuming NDP leader made it easy to connect

Ed Broadbent (1936-2024), who died this week at age 87, was a decent and honourable Canadian, a skilled politician respected by every player in a now-lost era of civility in Parliament.

I never met the former leader of the New Democratic Party. But 33 years ago I spoke with him in an exchange that still sparkles in my memory.

I was a tenderfoot reporter in May 1987, newly assigned to The Canadian Press parliamentary bureau on O’Connor Street, at the corner with Wellington Street. I was the night news editor, working alone in the ground-floor office and responsible for chasing late-evening news breaks. Rarely did anything happen to relieve the boredom.

One night, though, pollster Angus Reid released a remarkable public-opinion survey. Reid had found that 37 per cent of Canadians he polled supported the NDP under Ed Broadbent. The official Opposition Liberals under John Turner stood at 36 per cent, while Brian Mulroney’s Tory government was third at 25 per cent.

The survey results thus put the federal NDP on top for the first time since the formation of the party in 1961.

I knew from university history classes that the predecessor to the NDP, the Co-operative Commonwealth Federation, had once polled in first place, in September 1943, though only at 29 per cent. The New Democrats’ standing in 1987 was therefore unprecedented and historic – and CP’s wire service needed Broadbent’s comment as soon as possible.

Fortunately, I had his number. Broadbent was the kind of politician who shared his home number with reporters, to be available whenever they needed him. There were no cell phones at the time, of course, only land lines. I knew Broadbent’s home was in Sandy Hill, on Laurier Avenue at its intersection with Range Road, and was prepared to taxi there if I couldn’t get through.

I dialled the number. Within two or three rings, Broadbent himself picked up the receiver with a sleepy “hello.” I identified myself, and explained that we had just received polling numbers putting his party in first place.

Broadbent expressed surprise. He had not been privy to the poll results, and asked me for the numbers, which I provided. He thought for a moment, then gave me a comment, something to the effect that he was gratified by the support of Canadians. I thanked him, and inserted the quote in a quick story for the CP wire.

The next morning, the poll was national news and Broadbent and the party were pumped, delighted to be in the camera’s glare. In the federal election the following year, the party won 43 seats – a record to that point, later bested by leader Jack Layton in 2011 with 103 seats.

What struck me most, though, was Broadbent’s insistence that he be directly available to individual reporters. The man answered his own phone, late at night, without layers of media-relations staff running interference and sanitizing messages. He spoke off-the-cuff, without rehearsal, or speaking notes, or vetting.

Broadbent was a classy politician, honest and principled. His death also reminded me of an era when reporters and politicians routinely spoke directly to one another, person-to-person, free from the digital cocooning and manipulation that has hollowed out modern public discourse. A plain-paper politician from a truer time.