It was January 1988, and the Supreme Court of Canada had just handed down one of its most significant decisions ever. The court found that Canada’s abortion law was unconstitutional because it violated the Charter of Rights and Freedoms’ “security of the person” section.
Parliament and legislatures across Canada were in shock. The country was now officially without any law regulating the conditions under which abortion was legal. First ministers, attorneys general, health ministers, and others all tried to understand what their responsibilities were under these unprecedented circumstances. Should the government use the notwithstanding clause to overturn the court’s decision? Should it try to pass a new abortion law?
Ontario’s health minister at the time was Elinor Caplan, a Liberal MPP from the Oriole riding in North York, who’d been in provincial politics for all of two and a half years. She heard the news and emerged from her office ready to scrum with reporters. She told neither her staff nor anyone in Premier David Peterson’s office what she was about to say.
“We respect the court’s decision, and from now on, OHIP will fund this procedure,” Caplan said, referring to Ontario’s public health-insurance plan.
And that was that.
The premier, who was in Davos, Switzerland, at the time drumming up business for Ontario, had a somewhat awkward conversation with Caplan upon his return.
“Did you think about calling my office first?” Peterson asked his minister.
“I will next time,” Caplan responded with characteristic cheek.
Caplan’s political instincts were right for the times. The vast majority of Ontarians were pro-choice on the abortion debate, and while one of her cabinet colleagues was a staunch Catholic with 10 children and very much opposed her decision, the subject as a potential political issue for the government essentially went away. No government has attempted to legislate any restrictions on abortion since.
On Monday, Caplan will turn 80 years old, so it’s as good a time as any to reminisce about a career in politics that saw her elected to all three levels of government, serving in cabinet in both the Ontario legislature and in Parliament.
Elinor Caplan, then immigration minister, arrives for a meeting of the federal cabinet in Ottawa on June 14, 2001 (Tom Hanson/CP); Caplan pictured on May 14. (Steve Paikin)
And all these years later, how does she regard her actions on the abortion decision?
“It’s the thing I’m proudest of,” she says. “And that policy is still in place.”
Caplan’s political life began in 1978 when she was elected to North York municipal council. Three years later, she tried to make the move to Queen’s Park but ran headlong into a Tory tide, as Premier Bill Davis won his fourth straight election. She lost.
But by 1985, Davis was gone, and so was the Progressive Conservative juggernaut. The Liberals under Peterson emerged victorious, and Caplan, as one of the few MPPs with any governing experience, was appointed the chair of Management Board. It would be her job to approve every single significant government expenditure.
But just one year into her new job, trouble struck. Caplan was accused of conflict of interest related to her husband’s business dealings. She came to question period one day, intending to stand her ground. But an NDP opposition member made an argument she found persuasive. Ed Philip from Etobicoke North said to Caplan that it’s not whether you actually did anything wrong that matters: it’s whether the perception that you did could hamper your ability to do your job.
Caplan thought about it, and then, to everyone’s shock, got up at the end of question period and announced her resignation from cabinet. It was the honorable thing to do — and something you’d be unlikely to see today. (A legislative commission later investigated the matter and eventually cleared Caplan of any wrongdoing; Peterson put her right back into cabinet with a big promotion as health minister after the Liberal election landslide victory in 1987.)
Even though Caplan spent more than 40 per cent of the Ontario budget as health minister, she quickly learned the limitations of being in charge. For example, when she discovered that the city of Sudbury had successfully campaigned for a new hospital, she told the new hospital’s leadership, “I only want one thing: pick a computer system that can talk to the computer system of the other hospital in town. We’ve got to get you folks working together better.”
They said they would, but didn’t. To this day, it drives Caplan crazy to think about how much siloed thinking happens in health care.
Above the Parapet – Women in Public Life: Elinor Caplan
Caplan was also at the centre of an unforgettable scrum one day after question period. She had just made an announcement promoting healthier life choices when she emerged from the legislative chamber to face reporters. Colin Vaughan, the sharp-tongued journalist from Citytv (and father of future MP Adam Vaughan) began the questioning thus:
“Elinor, you’re fat. What kind of example can you set in making an announcement about healthier lifestyles?”
He actually said that.
There was an extremely awkward pause before Caplan answered. Other journalists in the scrum (and I was one of them) were half-mortified by Vaughan’s rudeness but also intrigued to see how Caplan would handle herself. Turns out, with immense class.
“Well, Colin,” she replied. “All of us have something challenging to deal with. For me, it’s been a lifelong struggle with my weight. All the more reason to listen to what I had to say today.”
Brilliant.
Caplan served another 10 years at Queen’s Park, then successfully ran federally in Thornhill during Prime Minister Jean Chrétien’s second mandate in 1997. She watched with immense pride as her son David succeeded her as the MPP for Oriole. And, like his mother, he, too, eventually became minister of health — in 2007 for Premier Dalton McGuinty.
In 1999, Chrétien appointed Caplan as his minister of immigration; as she would discover, it’s one of the most fraught portfolios in government. People are always trying to get you to intervene in their personal cases. Caplan says that, in one instance, a fellow Liberal MP tried to get her to game the system to enable his campaign manager’s family to jump the queue and come to Canada. Caplan refused. Then Chrétien called her in for a chat.
“Prime Minister, I’ll do whatever you want me to do.” she told him. “But if you ask me to do this, I’ll have to resign.”
And what happened?
“Mr. Chrétien never raised the issue again,” Caplan recalls. “And the MP didn’t speak to Chrétien for weeks!”
Caplan retired from politics in 2004. I remember asking her at the time what she planned to do next.
“I’m giving myself a fantastic gift,” she said. “I’m never reading a newspaper or watching the news again!” When I visited Caplan a few weeks ago, she said she’s pretty much stuck to that arrangement.
Caplan and I have seen each other three times over the past few months, and it’s been wonderful seeing her again. We went for quite a long patch without a visit, because her family was rocked by a horrible tragedy, and Caplan essentially dropped out of sight to recover.
Nearly five years ago, her son David, then 54, was killed in some kind of fire or explosion at his Toronto home, leaving behind his widow, Leigh, whom he’d started dating at age 17, and the couple’s two young children. Elinor and I discussed David’s death for the first time over dinner a few months ago.
“You never get over it,” she said. “You can’t get over it. It’s just an agonizing ache that never goes away.”
The author (right) with David Caplan; the author's daughter, Giulia, with Caplan. (Steve Paikin)
Compounding her misery: her husband of 60 years, Wilf, died this past January, succumbing to complications from dementia. And for reasons I didn’t push to discover, Caplan and two of her other children are estranged from their other son/sibling Zane, who lives in British Columbia. Zane was once deeply involved in the political backrooms at Queen’s Park. But he dropped out of politics, changing his name to the family’s original eastern European name Caplansky, and gained some attention as the proprietor of the Toronto delicatessen Caplansky’s.
“Zane and I are not in touch,” Caplan acknowledges. “But I hear from others he is doing well, and I’m happy to hear that.”
In fact, Caplan’s three living adult children all live quite a distance away. Son Mark lives in London, England, and works in finance. Daughter Meredith, like her brother David and her mother, was once an elected official (a municipal councillor in Bonnechere Valley Township) and is now an executive officer in communications for the Renfrew County District School Board in Pembroke.
Caplan’s relationship with her former prime minister remains intact. She was one of just 29 former cabinet ministers invited to Ottawa last January to attend a celebratory 90th birthday dinner for Chrétien.
Caplan plans to celebrate her birthday overseas, visiting her son Mark’s family. I hope she has a wonderful time. There could be no better 80th birthday present for her than some well-deserved happiness.
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