I was among those gushing about the Conservative Party of B.C.’s astounding showing in the October election.
From 1.9 per cent of the vote and zero seats in 2020 to 43 per cent of the vote and 44 seats this year.
But my feverish excitement overlooked a key lesson from history. Any time you get more than one B.C. Conservative together, they end up fighting with each other.
Rocketing from nowhere to almost winning the election looked at first glance like a sign of huge potential.
But their unique talent for picking fights with each other kicked in again several days ago. Becoming the largest opposition caucus ever virtually overnight might be too much of a good thing for them.
The latest example of this tendency started when a low-profile 91原创 police board member started popping off about mass immigration, gender transitions and erasing Christian values.
Her apologetic resignation from the board was arranged.
Asked for comment, Conservative public safety critic Elenore Sturko said the remarks were offensive and the ex-board member deserved to be unseated.
But 13 brand-new Conservative colleagues decided to go to the wall over Sturko’s reaction, on the grounds it offended their core values and the board member was a victim of cancel culture. They signed a letter denouncing Sturko and demanding Leader John Rustad do something about her.
With so many people involved, the letter leaked in a nano-second (to CKNW’s Jas Johal) and now the new caucus is fractured barely six weeks into their term.
It’s like a bench-clearing hockey brawl even before the puck drops, where all the fighters are on the same team.
Here’s a brief summary from the files of more than 20 years of internal warfare, mutinies and self-sabotage that make Conservatives in B.C. so much fun to be around. Many lurid details have been left out.
• Nine years ago, Dan Brooks was the leader. He was a big- game hunting guide from Vanderhoof with seven daughters and a degree in classical literature.
He had everything going for him, as far as Conservatives were concerned.
Family values. Versed in tragedy. Heavily armed.
But it all went sideways over lawsuits about internal scheming that got to the point where he couldn’t afford to continue, so he quit.
• Four years before that, the little band appeared headed for a breakout moment. Former federal Conservative MP John Cummins took over the leadership and even snagged an MLA. John van Dongen quit the Liberals and joined Cummins’ team.
One small problem developed — they couldn’t stand each other. They made the rock-and-rolling Gallagher brothers of Oasis look like best buds.
Factions developed — “Friends of John Cummins” and “Friends of the B.C. Conservative Party.” You could pick only one. At one point they held a big convention and leader Cummins’ agenda didn’t make room for his own MLA to speak.
Cummins’ remark while facing down dissidents turned out to be prophetic: “I’m not going anywhere.”
• Further back, in 2008, the tiny band of Conservatives argued themselves into a jam where there were two rival leaders.
A renegade band of 40 guerrillas stormed into a convention and voted to depose the incumbent leader and replace him. The incumbent said he was still leader because it said so on their website. The renegades said it was a pirate website.
The incumbent said the renegades’ new leader wasn’t even a member.
The renegades said: “Neither are you. You’ve been expelled for life.” It was news to him.
It got to the point where the registrar of the Societies Act froze the outfit until it could get its act together.
• Four years before that, a bid to marry the B.C. Unity and B.C. Conservative parties exploded right at the altar as they were about to exchange vows.
One leader quit, another was deposed and utter confusion reigned.
“I was trying to take minutes, but with everyone yelling it was impossible,” a source related.
Every time Conservatives get a shot at building a winning team, they go all Lord of the Flies. Now there are 44 of them. This could turn out to be like a lab-rat overcrowding experiment.
There was an effort this week to patch things over. Maybe it was just a tiff in a caucus where freedom to speak out is a priority.
Maybe things will simmer down. But that’s what people hoped Mount St. Helen’s would do.
If they can start this big a fight over such a modest issue, imagine what they’re capable of when the stakes are higher.
>>> To comment on this article, write a letter to the editor: [email protected]
