bout de papier, Vol. 12, No. 4 (1995-1996) — Winter 1995–96 // Hiver 1995-1996, p. 32
The following was prepared for the Memorial Service held for John Paynter at the Asia Centre (University of British Columbia) in November 1995.
John Paynter would have hated this event. But he would have been here, because he had an extraordinary sense of duty, and knew he would be expected. Even though he was better when he was extemporaneous, he would have had a speech ready, carefully transferred onto little cards, highlighted in various colours to remind him just where to pause, where to give emphasis. He would have stayed up all night writing it, and would have telephoned at least a half dozen of us for comments on the text, or sent us scurrying to some dusty archive to find a particular statistic or historical allusion. He would separately have asked at least three of us to give him a first draft, each unbeknownst to the others. He would have driven us mad, but we would have done our very best for him because, in the end, he always got it right, and because we loved him.
John was an old newsman, and East Asia was his beat. Early in his career, he studied Chinese, and was one of the intrepid crew who opened our Embassy in China after normalization in 1970. He was my posting officer later, when we were in Korea, and peppered me with monstrous puns about “Seoul-searching”. He came back to Asia in the mid-80s as Ambassador in Thailand, where he and I, although we had known one another all our professional lives, first worked together. And, when John went out to India as High Commissioner a few years later, I was honoured and delighted when he asked me to come as his Deputy.
Because working with John Paynter was a lesson in modern diplomacy. In the most natural possible way, John made his way through the intricacies of India’s class structure, its economy and politics, and emerged a respected friend of India, and an effective advocate for Canadian interests, no easy feat in that hermetic society. His final assignment, as Ambassador in China, was such an obvious culmination to his career that one could not imagine there might be anyone else even remotely qualified.
But it was on the personal level that one saw the real John Paynter: he was, no contest, the kindest and most thoughtful man I ever knew in this business; a warm, humourous, compassionate friend, who overlooked or forgave our many shortcomings, but effusively praised our most prosaic accomplishments. With all his achievements, moreover, the most important part of his life was his family. Old fashioned? Sure. But the values John and Inge espoused influenced all of us for the better.
John contrived, all his life, to find practical, humane solutions to some incredibly convoluted issues; most of the time, he succeeded brilliantly. We remember the sharp, intuitive analyst, always questioning, never seeking the easy or obvious answer, but always the right answer. Except this time. With all that well-honed intellect, with all his networks, all those loving friends, going flat out to help him find a solution, maybe something no one had thought of trying before, he didn’t quite manage it this time. What a brutal, implacable enemy he must finally have encountered. And how bereft it has left us today.
We pay tribute, Kazuko and I, with all of you, to John Lawrence Paynter’s memory, and pray that we will not forget the lessons he taught us; the example he set for us — in our careers, and, most of all, our lives. Inge and Kate and Jonathon and Sarah, who loved him best, will miss him most. The rest of us, his friends and colleagues; well, we loved him too, and we cherish the time we had with him on this Earth. We are most certainly the better for having known him.
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Originally published in bout de papier, Vol. 12, No. 4 (1995-1996) — Winter 1995–96 // Hiver 1995-1996, p. 32. Read the rest of this issue →
