The Macdonald Question: Changing Interpretations of Canada’s First Prime Minister

For generations, Sir John A. Macdonald stood unchallenged as the architect of Confederation, the unyielding force who willed a disparate collection of colonies into a nation. Schoolchildren were told of his vision, his determination, his genius for politics. His flaws—his drinking, his partisanship—were acknowledged with a wink, the human failings of a statesman who accomplished great things. But history does not stand still. Over time, Macdonald’s legacy has become a battleground, his image reshaped by the evolving currents of historical interpretation. Today, he is as much a symbol of controversy as of nation-building, a figure scrutinized for his policies on Indigenous peoples, immigration, and national expansion.
The earliest historians of Canada, writing in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, saw Macdonald as a near-mythic figure. He was compared to the great statesmen of the British world—Disraeli, Gladstone, and even Churchill in his resolve. To these writers, he was the indispensable man, the one leader who could navigate the treacherous waters of Confederation and see the grand project through. His National Policy, the transcontinental railway, and his ability to outmaneuver rivals like George Brown and Edward Blake cemented his reputation as Canada’s political colossus.
But as the 20th century progressed, new voices emerged. The nationalist historians of the 1960s, eager to carve out a uniquely Canadian perspective, examined Macdonald’s leadership with a more critical eye. Was his railway truly a nation-building project, or an instrument of corruption? Did his partisan tactics, so admired by earlier writers, stifle democracy rather than strengthen it? The old reverence for Macdonald gave way to a more pragmatic assessment—he remained a great leader, but a flawed one, whose legacy was not without cost.
In the 21st century, the reassessment of Macdonald has been increasingly driven not by academic historians but by politically motivated groups seeking to weaponize history for contemporary ideological battles. As Canada confronts the more troubling aspects of its past, Macdonald’s legacy has become a prime target for activists eager to recast national history through the lens of present-day moral judgments. His policies toward Indigenous peoples, once analyzed within the broader context of 19th-century state-building, are now selectively highlighted to serve narratives of systemic oppression. The architects of the residential school system invoked his vision, and his government’s assimilationist policies have been reframed as emblematic of enduring injustice. Where previous generations saw a nation-builder, political activists now demand he be remembered primarily as an architect of colonial violence. Statues have been toppled, schools renamed, and his legacy reduced to a battleground for ideological struggles rather than a subject of rigorous historical inquiry.
Yet history, like Macdonald himself, is never simple. He was a man of his time, shaped by the beliefs and prejudices of the 19th century, yet also a leader who forged compromises and made decisions that shaped the nation for generations to come. He was a visionary and a pragmatist, a builder and a politician, a unifier and a partisan. To dismiss him as merely a villain is to ignore the weight of his achievements; to celebrate him uncritically is to turn away from the full measure of history.
The Macdonald Question will continue to evolve, shaped by the perspectives of future historians. Perhaps no single interpretation will ever be sufficient. But in the shifting tides of history, one truth remains: Sir John A. Macdonald, in all his complexity, remains at the very heart of the Canadian story.
This is the first of series of articles about Macdonald’s changing image in the view of Canadian historians which will be posted on a weekly basis.