Prime Minister Justin Trudeau left his official residence to announce his resignation in minimal clothing, wearing light wool pants, dress shoes, and a partially open overcoat in -13 degree weather.
Mr. Ignatieff donned a Team Canada hockey jersey (conveniently liberal red) and went out skating with other lawmakers and senators from his own party, mostly for television camera crews and photographers.
I went ahead of them and randomly stopped other skaters to ask if they recognized Mr. Ignatieff. Few people did that. No one waved at Mr. Ignatieff or paid him any attention.
But as Mr. Ignatieff sat down on the bench to take off his skates, I heard a commotion on the ice behind me. Mr. Trudeau arrived and was immediately swarmed.
(read: Canada covers Trudeau news with ‘orchestra’)
Two years later, I have personally proven that star power.
I interviewed Mr. Trudeau at his Montreal constituency office for a profile that would appear shortly after he became Liberal leader in 2013. The office was above a pharmacy, and the furniture looked like it had been left behind by previous tenants.
We met in a dark conference room. When he began discussing the death of his father, former Prime Minister Pierre Elliott Trudeau, and the crowds that lined the funeral train from Ottawa to Montreal, Mr. Trudeau briefly lost his composure and had to fetch a box of tissues. I’ve never seen anything like that in an interview with a politician, and I haven’t seen it since.
After the interview, we walked in the same direction along the busy street in front of the office. It was another bone-chilling day. A man ran zigzag towards us from across the street. He said in Afro-French that all he wanted to do was shake Prime Minister Trudeau’s hand.
(From the comments: Justin Trudeau was his own worst enemy)
(From the comments: Telling Trudeau au Revoir. now.)
Even as Mr. Trudeau’s popularity waned in the years that followed, the crowd never did. So did his obvious desire to meet people.
Conservative Prime Minister Stephen Harper, who Trudeau succeeded in 2015, favored tightly controlled events before select audiences. By contrast, Prime Minister Trudeau has held public town halls without registration outside of his election campaign, and crowds often overflow even after being moved to larger stadiums.
During the campaign, Prime Minister Trudeau moved immediately, not stopping for selfies and handshakes. If people had questions, he would listen and talk. This was frustrating for employees who were usually struggling to keep to schedule.
With this approach, he sometimes worked without a net. In 2017, when his image was just beginning to tarnish, I attended a town hall in Peterborough, Ontario, on another cold day. Although Trudeau clearly had fans in the crowd, the gathering became rowdy.
The Ontario government’s utility has introduced steep rate increases. One woman lashed out at the Prime Minister with monthly bills exceeding 1,000 Canadian dollars. Even though the utility is not under any federal control, Mr. Trudeau has become the target of public ire.
After he became prime minister, his interviews lost their former candor. His answer was carefully considered.
Certainly he never again gave an answer like his in the boardroom as to why he was opening himself up to the kind of vitriol his father received as prime minister.
“Am I going to make a mistake? “There are so many.” He told me in 2013. “I’ll apologize and we’ll get through it. But I trust my core, I trust my values, and I trust Canadians. And if I blow it, it will really be because I just wasn’t up to the task.”
Ian Austin He reports on Canada for The Times and is based in Ottawa. Originally from Windsor, Ontario, he has reported on Canada for 20 years, covering its politics, culture and people.
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