bout de papier, Vol. 15, No. 2 (1998) — Summer 1998 // Été 1998, pp. 19–23
The following article is extracted from “Recruiting Tomorrow’s Ambassadors: Examination and Selection for the Foreign Service of Canada, 1925-1997”, which will appear in a collection of essays edited by Robert Wolfe entitled Diplomatic Missions: the Ambassador in Canadian Foreign Policy. The book will soon be published by the School of Policy Studies of Queen’s University and it will be distributed by McGill-Queen’s University Press.
For more than seventy years, the Department of External Affairs and its successor, the Department of Foreign Affairs and International Trade, have principally relied for recruitment of Canada’s foreign service on broad criteria for eligibility, careful scrutiny of the experience and academic qualifications of applicants as well as a distinct and often elaborate ritual of written and oral examination. Most of Canada’s ambassadors today survived this ordeal and for some years to come their successors will likely have shared this peculiar rite of passage into the nether world of diplomacy. As the foreign service examination itself becomes a part of the past, it is timely to review its origins.
After assuming the offices of prime minister and secretary of state for external affairs, William Lyon Mackenzie King chose not to rely for advice on international affairs on the few employees of the Department of External Affairs in the East Block. Instead, he sought the informal counsel of political contacts before developing confidence in the ability, dedication and judgement of a distinguished scholar, Dr. O.D. Skelton, then dean of arts at Queen’s University. Skelton’s suitability was not diminished by his Liberal sympathies nor by his laudatory biography of King’s mentor, Sir Wilfrid Laurier. But what convinced King that he ’might make a very good Under-Secretary of State [for External Affairs] in succession to Sir Joseph Pope’ was an address which Skelton made to the Canadian Club in January 1922 on “Canada and Canadian Foreign Policy” As King recorded in his already voluminous diary, Skelton “certainly has the knowledge and the right point of view” Over the next few years, King increasingly relied on Skelton, as a delegate, as a special adviser for imperial conterences, as a counsellor and finally, on April Fool’s Day, 1925, as Pope’s successor. Skelton’s performance had confirmed King’s assessment, so that no alternative for deputy minister was considered. Unlike his predecessor but like the prime minister, Skelton firmly believed in Canadian autonomy in international affairs and he was convinced that a stronger department of external affairs, a professional foreign service and separate diplomatic representation were essential instruments for that purpose. When Skelton set out to recruit, there were precedents in the public service for qualifying standards and entrance exams.
But the process which Skelton devised, and the way in which it was implemented, demonstrated a distinct approach to recruitment, which influenced not only the exceptional quality of the early entrants but also the approach taken in later years. For the first opening, to replace himself as counsellor, Skelton was keen to apply the merit principle, with competitive entrance. But he set a high qualifying standard for eligible men (women were excluded): “a law degree or membership in a provincial bar association, two years of post-graduate studies in international affairs, practical experience in legal work, and a good knowledge of both English and French”. As a result, there was only one qualified applicant: Jean Désy, professor of international and constitutional law and political history at the University of Montreal, who joined DEA in July 1925.
Undaunted, Skelton devised a specialised examination for foreign service officers in time for a second competition in 1927. To be eligible, candidates had to have graduated with a university degree or its equivalent, preferably with graduate work in political science, political economy or international law. The questions which Skelton posed in the four parts of the written examination clearly indicated that he wanted what are now called “generalists” rather than “specialists” ’ Apparently, he was also looking for autonomists: “The first essay, which was usually on nationalism and internationalism,” John Hilliker has observed, “was designed to elicit the candidate’s attitude toward Canada’s role in the empire and enabled the department to determine whether he accepted the government’s position as enunciated at recent imperial conferences.” Another essay tested knowledge of Canadian and international affairs, while a third involved a choice from a list of topics drawn from the qualifying disciplines. Another component of the examination, which could last for two days or more, was a précis. Leaving nothing to chance, Skelton graded the papers, assigned a value to the examinee’s curriculum vitae, usually chaired the panel which interviewed those who distinguished themselves on the written portion, and often introduced the prospective foreign service officers to the prime minister, who as secretary of state for external affairs was politically responsible for the department and the service.
Though there is understandably greater vidence of the written papers. interview ith the superior candidates were essentia parts of the process. One veteran Canadian diplomat implicitly has justified that emphasis. “Much international business is transacted orally,” Benjamin Rogers wrote. “A tremendous amount of paper is used within governments, but very little passes between governments.” In addition to the academic standards, candidates for first secretary were expected to possess “undoubted integrity, tact, astuteness, keen perception, good judgement and good address.” Particularly in the early years, when the recruits were likely to be posted to “the great cosmopolitan capitals,” the oral examination may also have ensured qualifications which could not be tested on paper, as John English has suggested. “Skelton sought out Canadians who would be neither rustic nor colonial, who should know that one sipped cognac but downed aquavit; that one used ’one’ in certain company; that Gladys Cooper and Diana Cooper were not sisters, though both were actresses and exquisite women; and that, according to Lord Curzon’s definitive ruling, gentlemen never took soup at luncheon. Proper, to be sure, but stuffy never, for Skelton’s strongly democratic instincts meant that the department rejected the formal trappings that traditionally accompanied diplomacy.” In effect, Skelton was “constructing” the Canadian foreign service “in his own image”.
For Skelton, the results of the competition in 1927 were disappointing. There were few applicants and only two successful candidates: E. D’Arcy McGreer and J. Scott Macdonald. To his other roles in the process, Skelton then added that of recruiting officer. Relying on an elaborate and effective political and academic network, Skelton personally encouraged likely prospects to apply, with impressive consequences, as there were more than 60 applicants. Examinations held in 1927 for first and third secretaries eventually resulted in the hiring of six individuals, five of whom had taught in university: Lester Pearson, Kenneth Kirkwood, Hugh Keenleyside, Norman Robertson, Paul-Émile Renaud and Keith Crowther. We know more about this competition than about all but the most recent examinations, not least because the distinguished careers of some of the victorious candidates have inspired memoirs, biographies and other studies. From this group would emerge not only ambassadors but three deputy ministers, one of whom would later serve as secretary of state for external affairs and later still as prime minister. Skelton had recruited his successors.
’There were no gimmicks or gadgets in 1928 to test one’s IQ or one’s skill at not putting square pegs in round holes,” Pearson recalled in his memoirs. Nor was there an evaluation of competence in French. Pearson wrote his optional paper on “The Rise of Fascism”, along with compulsory ones on international affairs, modern history and international law. With the précis, this trial took place over four days in late June. The interview must have followed soon after, as Pearson received a telegram offering him the position of first secretary on 10 August 1928. Other applicants, then and since, did not receive their offers so promptly. Keenleyside had hedged his bets by applying for both openings, which meant that he wrote two sets of examinations (though he was unable to complete all the papers for first secretary), which certainly must have established that he was committed to a career in the foreign service, or that he should have been committed to some other institution! Keenleyside recalled the oral examination as “a very pleasant experience, “” with “most of the questions” about “my prospective book on Canada-United States relations”. After an informal meeting with Skelton at the Rideau Club, Keenleyside was then summoned to dinner with King, who according to Skelton “had been taking a great personal interest in the recruitment of staff for the department” For his part, Robertson very nearly wrote no papers, as he was unable to write the examination in Washington or Montreal, eventually performing the task in Ottawa. When the first positions were filled by Pearson, Keenleyside and Kirkwood, Robertson was placed on an eligibility list — an impressive achievement for one of the youngest applicants. Not until late May 1929 did Robertson report for work and he did not receive written confirmation of his appointment until four months later.
Of course, the perspective in these accounts is that of the victors, while the vanquished have understandably been less effusive. Still, what Skelton achieved in these early examinations and in others to follow was an impressive beginning for the professional foreign service, particularly when one considers the qualifications and expectations in relation to contemporary Canadian society. In other respects as well, those who would represent Canada were not representative of its population, but they did exemplify the qualities and abilities which Skelton believed were important to define an autonomous diplomatic presence internationally for Canada. Moreover, these aims and the process which Skelton devised to realise them, would profoundly influence later recruitment for Canada’s foreign service. The procedure today for “recruiting tomorrow’s ambassadors” owes a great deal to Skelton’s legacy. But the appointment of heads of post in 1927 and 1928 was certainly not his responsibility. Nor were all of the lower ranks filled by Skelton’s method, even then.
The nomination of diplomats to represent Canada in foreign capitals, as well as the redefinition of the high commissioner’s role to approximate a diplomatic representative and to eliminate the governor general’s representation of the British government, was sanctioned by the discussions and conclusions of the Imperial Conference of 1926. Though the Canadian government had intended to appoint a minister in Washington — unambiguously independent representation at the rank of ambassador was not yet contemplated – and funds for the purpose had been approved by Parliament, King did not act until his political and constitutional position was secure. By then, the Irish Free State had established its own legation in Washington, distinct from the British embassy, which made it even less likely that separate representation for Canada would be controversial. As prime minister and external affairs minister, King was determined to exercise his prerogative to choose Canada’s first diplomats. His choices demonstrated similar criteria as for the earlier appointment of Peter Larkin as high commissioner in London, with an even more pronounced partisan bias.
As minister in Washington, King eventually selected Vincent Massey, a patrician aesthete who, as Blair Neatby has noted, “combined an academic background with some experience in public affairs” as well as “an adequate private income” to meet the representational expenses of the new office. He had served briefly in King’s cabinet as a minister without portfolio before his defeat at the polls in 1925. Massey presented his credentials as “His Majesty’s Envoy Extraordinary and Minister Plenipotentiary for Canada” on 18 February 1927. Massey personally hired the legation’s staff, including Laurent Beaudry, Tommy Stone and Hume Wrong, who thereby entered DEA and the foreign service by selection, not competition. Though all were able, there were considerable tensions within the small mission, which prompted King’s greater interest in recruitment. As for Massey, he looked and played the part of a diplomat successfully, so well that he convinced himself and others that he was one and he seems to have been genuinely offended when King’s successor treated him as a politician.
With a “curious geographic argument” to justify the next posts, King decided to elevate the existing office in Paris to a legation and to appoint a minister to Tokyo. There was no need to replace Canada’s agent-general, Philippe Roy, in Paris, so that he was redesignated as minister. To represent Canada in Japan, King chose Herbert Marler, whose qualifications for the post closely resembled Massey’s. Like Massey, Marler had been a minister without portfolio in King’s government before suffering electoral defeat, though his parliamentary career had been longer and more distinguished. Marler was also independently wealthy. As his son recalls, both Marler and his wife “were quite at home in the patrician environment in which diplomacy was conducted in that period when it was still the métier of gentlemen who were expected to have the appropriate educational and social background”. Marler interviewed prospective staff for the legation, rejecting Robertson and approving Keenleyside. After serving with Marler, Keenleyside recalled that “in a somewhat wooden way he looked like the conventional idea of an ambassador”, though some of his notions
22 bout de papier Vol. for development of a diplomatic corps for Canada were considerably less democratic than those of Skelton.
Of more concern to Skelton, as well as to the new diplomats, was political reaction to these developments. As Conservative leader, R.B. Bennett had mocked Marler as “a glorified trade commissioner seeking publicity”. “, while his colleague T.L. Church had denounced the legations as “sink holes” for tax dollars. Neither had welcomed the break with imperial diplomatic unity. Moreover, DEA and the foreign service had been created by a Liberal regime, with which Skelton was closely identified. Yet, as prime minister and secretary of state for external affairs from 1930 to 1935, Bennett was more cautious than his partisan rhetoric had presaged. Massey, who had resigned as minister to Washington before his nomination to succeed Larkin as high commissioner in London, was the sole diplomatic casualty of the change of government. With some justification, Bennett argued that the high commissioner, unlike other representatives, required the political confidence of the government which Massey, as a former Liberal minister, would not enjoy. Thus Massey’s diplomatic career was interrupted by his resignation from the Washington post and his unsuitability for London.
Washington, Bennett chose histliam D. ind tuture brotner-in-law,
Herridge; for London, he selected the premier of Ontario, Howard Ferguson, who was certainly not a diplomat. Marler and Roy both kept low profiles and their jobs, as did the foreign service officers in their missions. Meanwhile, back in Ottawa, after an uneasy transition, Skelton proved as indispensable to Bennett as he had been to King.
The Bennett interregnum was as important for continuity as it was for change. Though Bennett’s diplomatic appointments were no less partisan than King’s, the fact that Marler remained in Tokyo – and later replaced Herridge in Washington — suggested a limit to the sway of patronage. Recruitment for the foreign service continued, with examinations in 1930 and 1932-33 adding 6 officers, while two senior advisers
– Lt. Col. Georges Vanier and Loring Christie – were appointed without competition. With one death and three departures from the foreign service, the net expansion was modest, but in the context of the depression, any increase was important. As a successful candidate, Charles Ritchie, recalled, Bennett continued his predecessor’s interest, personally interviewing the group of new recruits. Though Skelton was relieved when King returned to office, DEA and the foreign service had not suffered unduly in his absence. Neither Ferguson nor Herridge waited for King to decide his fate. Bennett had cleared Marler’s transfer to Washington with King, so that left openings in London and Tokyo. King reconfirmed his earlier judgement that the right choice as high commissioner was Massey, who had since performed more good deeds for the Liberal party. For Japan, King chose as minister a former lieutenant-governor of British Columbia, Randolph Bruce, who had been defeated as a Liberal candidate in the recent federal election. Bruce was prominent and wealthy, but he was 73 when he accepted the appointment and he had lost his eyesight. Meanwhile, Roy, who was 68 and hard of hearing, continued as minister to France. The three ministers prompted Hume Wrong’s cruel observation that “Canada was represented abroad by the deaf, blind and dumb”. ’. Yet Wrong was not convinced that more dynamic diplomats would make a difference, as Canada did not possess a discernible foreign policy for the heads of post to articulate. “Dining alone this evening”, he wrote privately to Massey, “I developed a plan for the perfect representation of Canada at Conferences. Our delegate would have a name, even a photograph; a distinguished record, even an actual secretary — but he would have no corporeal existence and no one would ever notice that he was not there”
Undoubtedly the “low dishonest decade” was frustrating for the members of the foreign service, particularly given the qualities which Skelton had deliberately recruited, but their ranks and their opportunities were expanding. Wrong himself replaced Walter Riddell in what was by then a diplomatic post in Geneva, while Vanier succeeded Roy in Paris in 1938. Désy became the first of Skelton’s recruits to head a mission when he was named minister to Belgium and the Netherlands in January 1939. Later that year, Marler was replaced by Loring Christie, though ill health limited the latter’s effectiveness. With McGreer acting as chargé d’affaires in Tokyo, Canada’s representation abroad had been transformed on the eve of the second world war. Over the previous three years, competitions had added six recruits, including James Gibson and J.W. Pickersgill, who soon found that they worked for King more as prime minister than as secretary of state for external affairs. Two others joined the foreign service without competition: Escott Reid, former national secretary of the Canadian Institute of International Affairs, who was personally recruited by Skelton; and Herbert Norman, whose expertise on Japan prompted his appointment as a “language officer” in 1939 before his posting to Tokyo — an exceptional specialist. As yet, Canada had no ambassadors, but interwar recruitment for the foreign service, principally through the process devised by Skelton, had produced heads of mission — and future ambassadors.
During the second world war, Canada enhanced its international stature through its war effort and its diplomatic presence overseas by the appointment of ambassadors. Once again, the first foreign service officer to serve as an ambassador was Jean Désy, who achieved that distinction in Brazil in 1943. When King’s traditional choice for Washington, Leighton McCarthy, proved a disappointment, the prestige of the foreign service was further enhanced by the appointment of Pearson as Canada’s ambassador to the United States. Though King still favoured friends and political associates for heads of posts, the wartime demands for quantity and quality in Canada’s representation abroad provided unprecedented opportunities for Skelton’s early recruits. When Skelton died in late January 1941, he left the foreign service and DEA well placed to meet the challenges ahead and it was appropriately one of his recruits, Norman Robertson, who succeeded him as under-secretary of state for external affairs.
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Originally published in bout de papier, Vol. 15, No. 2 (1998) — Summer 1998 // Été 1998, pp. 19–23. Read the rest of this issue →
