For some strange reason, people seem to think the Star hates Rob Ford and has a vendetta against him.

 

Nothing could be further from the truth — at least the part about hating him.

 

Sure, there may be some individuals in the Star newsroom and executive suites who detest and revile Ford as both a man and as a mayor, but you’ll find those people in any office in Toronto (including the mayor’s office). And, yes, the Star may (or may not — it all depends on your perspective) be engaged in a vitriolic, scrupulously unscrupulous (or unscrupulously scrupulous) campaign against the man — a vendetta, in other words.

 

But hate him? No, the Star loves Rob Ford.

 

There’s a saying that we are defined more by our enemies than by our friends and such is the case with Rob Ford and the Star. Ford could probably get along fine without the Star, but the Star needs Ford, needs him like a garden needs rain and manure, needs him like Sid Vicious needed Nancy Spungen, needs him like Muhammad Ali needed George Chuvalo — as a punching bag.

 

Nothing except a real disaster does a newspaper as much good as a knock-down, drag-out, screaming, roll-in-the-gutter fight with a high-profile politician. You can take that one to the bank.

 

Newspapers, even the Star, function better as critics rather than as cheerleaders. There’s nothing worse for a newspaper than to have the candidate you support and to whom you are beholden actually in office. Rah, rah, sis-boom-bah — go, chief magistrate, go! It is to puke. You can’t bite anyone on the ass while you’re kissing their ass(es) and biting your tongue.

 

And it’s boring, really boring for both readers and reporters — which is (or should be) the kiss of death for newspapers.

 

No, it’s much better for a newspaper to have its sworn enemy wearing the chain of office and wielding the levers of power, calling you names and boycotting your reporters.

 

It’s also good when said political potentate chases your reporter around a neighbourhood park. Much better if the grand poohbah actually assaults your fleet-footed fellow (which didn’t happen). Not so good if said quaking correspondent empties his pockets to appease the jiggling mass of volcanic mayorality erupting before him (which did happen).

 

The important thing is that people are talking about you, taking sides, actually appearing to care what you say or suggest or imply about your political nemesis. And it’s really great when competing newspapers are talking about you and your feud. And even putting your paper’s name in their headlines (see above).

 

Why, it might even result in a few new subscriptions (really, I’m not joking). It certainly won’t lose you any subscriptions — those people already left in a huff a couple of years ago.

 

While the Star might have crowed and strutted for a few weeks or even months if Rob Ford had been forced from office in the conflict of interest case, they/it would have quickly come to regret their/its loss. No more Mr.-Not-Nice-Guy to kick around. No more giant, inflated target wafting in the breeze. No more easy tricks to get your kicks. Even worse if a “progressive” replaced Ford and the Star had to go back to its usual butt-kissing courtiership.

 

If he was a praying man, Michael Cooke would be down on his knees every night thanking the powers above for the blessing that is Rob Ford as mayor of Toronto. Cooke and the Star can only hope that Ford will somehow or other be re-elected to continue the “rumpled and stained” saga through the decade. Sure, it will get stale in time, but for now it beats the alternative.

(I like Michael Cooke’s journalistic blood lust, by the way. Here’s what he had to say about the rival New York Post back when he was editor of the Daily News: “We put our foot on their throat every day and press down ’til their eyes bulge and leak blood, but still they won’t die. We just have to keep at it ’til they do die.” You’ve got to admire that attitude — it exhibits the Star’s predatory appetite but none of its fraudulent piety.)

 

The thing Cooke must regret about the Star-Ford contretemps is that it’s such small potatoes. When it comes to newspapers feuding with politicians, the bigger the better.

 

The battle royale between Prime Minister Pierre Trudeau and the Toronto Sun — largely in the person of founding editor Peter Worthington — was a joy to behold. Deep, dark and dirty, a death-cage grudge match of epic proportions. And one that did wonders for Sun circulation and the paper’s feisty reputation in its early days.

 

I can’t lay my hands on it right now, but I love the 1978 photo of Worthington standing in his office as Mounties — on orders from Trudeau — ransacked Toronto Sun premises looking for documents with which to charge Worthington and publisher Doug Creighton under the Official Secrets Act. A quirky little smile is playing on Worthy’s face and his eyes are flashing with merriment in the photo because he knows, absolutely KNOWS, that this raid can do nothing but good for the Sun and nothing but bad for Trudeau and his RCMP henchmen (which it did, in both cases).

 

Comparing the clash of titans between Trudeau and Worthington to the schoolyard tiff between Ford and the Star is unfair, like comparing an Irish wolfhound to a Pekingese.

 

Besides, the current imbroglio is a lot of sound and fury signifying nothing because Ford can’t really do anything to hurt the Star in any meaningful way. Boycott their reporters? Really, what difference would access make, what useful tidbit would be gleaned by the Star in a two-hour sitdown with the mayor? Nada — except maybe a tad more information with which to make fun of him. It’s not like he has the real, painful, vindictive power to do lasting harm such as might be inflicted if, for example, the Star got into a serious feud with Toronto Police Chief Bill Blair — just as a “for example.”

 

And it’s not as if Rob Ford is the personification of evil. He may not be everyone’s cup of tea (he certainly isn’t mine), but he’s far more danger to himself than he is to the social fabric of the city of Toronto. We’ve survived worse and we’ve survived other mayors who thought they were “better.”

 

People’s memories are short: Not too long ago we had a mayor who built a subway to nowhere and called in the army when it snowed. And a few politicians who went along with the subway fiasco are still sitting on council. (I favour subways — it’s just that that one is in the wrong place and was a wasteful vanity project.)

As for partying, Ford would have to go a long way to be in the league of 1950s mayor Allan Lamport who cajoled the Royal York Hotel into providing him with a free suite on the 17th floor for his private social functions. In less than three years, Lampy ran up a room-service tab of over $40,000 (about $375,000 in today’s money) on champagne, liquor, steaks and other assorted goodies — all completely unauthorized and billed to the city clerk.

 

I love this quote at the time from a Royal York chambermaid who cleaned the suite: “There has been smashing times. Sometimes you would think a cyclone had hit the place.”

So far Ford, the supposed party monster, has been chump change compared to that.

 

Lampy — one of Toronto’s most popular politicians, who helped open the post-war city to bars and Sunday sporting events — slide out from under that scandal with barely a scratch, paid no penalty either financially or legally, went on to become TTC chairman and returned to council as an alderman for much of the 1960s.

 

And he gave us a book full of Lampy-isms, like this one: “If someone’s going to stab me in the back, I want to be there.”

 

The latest Star-Ford slushball is about Ford possibly being an alcoholic or binge drinker.

 

That one will carry some real weight when anyone other than Ford’s sworn enemies start throwing it around. The soundbites of Ford’s political foes “wanting only the best for him” and “not making political hay from his troubles” are cringe-worthy.

 

To be brutally objective, whether he is or isn’t an alcoholic or binge drinker (I see a slight difference in the two) really doesn’t matter to the people of Toronto. I’m sure it matters deeply to family and friends, but for the rest of us what matters is whether or not he is doing the job he was elected to do.

 

If the judgement is that he is doing an appropriate job, then (if he is a heavy drinker) he’s just another functioning alcoholic among many. If he isn’t cutting the mustard, the “why” is irrelevant, except in an after-the-fact, CBC-analysis sort of way.

 

This current state of sitting in judgement reeks of priggish hypocrisy. The self-righteous clamour is that his (supposed) drinking is affecting his public performance and putting the city in a bad light. Well, if he’s doing a bad job, throw the bum out. But don’t look down your nose at him and pooh-pooh and tsk-tsk the man. That’s disgraceful behaviour and you should be ashamed of yourself (if you’re one of those doing the poohing and tsking).

 

I doubt very much that any of Ford’s critics and opponents — including the Star — would think any the better of him or his policies or his behaviour if he had gone on the wagon 20 years ago. Case in point: George W. Bush.

 

If you think excessive alcohol consumption should be an absolute bar to holding high public office, you probably shouldn’t be in Canada. This country was founded by a man who was a raging alcoholic. The government of Canada would essentially grind to a halt for a week or two at a time when John A. Macdonald took to his bed with bottles and books to binge away the black dog of depression.

 

I’m not saying drink made the man. I’m just saying I don’t know if he would have been a better man — or a better founding father — if he didn’t drink. (I’m sure he would have been a better father and husband, but that’s another matter.) He was who he was and the alcoholism was part of that immense, complicated, unruly, ugly, charming, tormented, brilliant, devious, accomplished package that was John A. Macdonald.

 

For much of his political career, John A.’s chief rival was George Brown, founder of the Toronto Globe and noted reformer. Brown was a sober, upstanding citizen who led many laudable social campaigns, including ones for political representation by population, for prison reform and against U.S. slavery.

 

But in many other ways, he was a racist and religious bigot, overbearing,  intolerant and priggish. I’m not sure if he was a total abstainer, but he was certainly a leader of Ontario’s temperance (prohibition) movement.

 

And election after election, the people of Canada chose drunken John A. Macdonald over sober George Brown.

 

Because John A. got the job done. He built an impossible railroad. He built an impossible country. He knew his impossible, sprawling country and the political lay of the land in Parliament like no one else. He hardly ever lost a vote — and when he did, he took defeat with grace and he always bounced back. He did not flounder and flail — even when he was completely bombed. He got the job done.

 

Rob Ford is certainly no John A. Macdonald. He’s not even a George Brown. He probably isn’t even in Allan Lamport’s league. But don’t tar and feather the man for drinking — at least not until after you’ve publicly attacked every serious drinker in your own personal and professional circle who could respond and retaliate directly to your “best wishes.”

 

Until then, you’re just covering up another underhanded political attack in the guise of self-appointed morally superior rectitude.

 

But that’s only my personal opinion and I’m not going to spread it around. The Star’s welcome to, of course.