bout de papier, Vol. 30, No. 3 (2018), p. 49
Paul Durand joined the Canadian International Development Agency in 1975 after a career in private banking. Following a posting as First Secretary (Development) in Barbados (1976-78), he moved to the Privy Council Office before becoming Director of CIDA’s Tanzania Program (1983-87), He joined External Affairs’ Aid Stream before becoming Head of the Development Section in New Delhi (1987-89). He switched to the Political Stream of Foreign Affairs, where he served as Director and later Director General for Latin America. He served as Ambassador to Costa Rica, Nicaragua, Panama and Honduras (1 992-95): Ambassador to Chile (2000-2001); Ambassador to the Organization of American States (2001-2006); was seconded to head the OAS Electoral Observation Mission in Costa Rica (2006); and OAS Representative to the Dominican Republic (2006-2009). Paul died December 18, 2017.
A professional Foreign Service demands adaptability — to new subjects, assignments, countries, cultures, and languages. And, not least, to a constant stream of new colleagues. Recruits learn quickly that, like Gaul; their colleagues can be divided into three parts: the miserable, the good, and the outstanding. The first is, thankfully, not too common. The second is where most folks are — and that is no small achievement. But, every now and then, we run across the third group, the natural leaders who attract, convince, motivate and make us all better than we were. Long after other memories fade, those personalities stay with us. They represent the very best of public service, the very best of Canada — and none more so than Paul Durand.
Paul loved the Foreign Service. He thought it was a privilege to serve Canada, to pursue and. defend: the interests and values that make this country one of the best places on Earth to live. But that sounds far too pompous, especially for a man like Paul, who was anything but. Where else, he thought, could you have such a good time working for your country?
This view was not unique to Paul, but he brought some special gifts to the vocation. There was his professionalism. He took his work seriously, though never solemnly.
took up all challenges and delivered results. While others may have moaned about workload, Paul would. simply disappear and get the job done — on time and without complaint.
Paul believed strongly that’ individuals could make a difference. When he joined the Foreign Service after a private banking career spent largely in Latin America, he was struck by how little attention we paid to the countries of our own hemisphere. He decided to change that — and did. “Canada is a country of the Americas” was his battle-cry and, over the years, it became a fundamental plank of Canadian foreign policy:
He had no patience for rigid hierarchies. He cared about the people who worked for him and took the time to help them — at least once smuggling a promising young FS1 into a leaders’ Summit meeting. He was patient, supportive, helpful and kind, but he also demanded the best of his people — and they delivered. Back in the day, people used to say that in “domestic” departments, people considering a new job wanted to know what their establishment was, and asked for an organization chart. In the Foreign Service, people wanted to know with whom they would be working, and asked for a personnel list. Paul was someone people wanted to work with. Together with a small group of colleagues, he turned Latin America and the Caribbean from backwaters of the department into high profile places where people wanted to be.
As an employee couple, Paul and his wife Patricia Fortier embarked on the Foreign Service adventure together and successfully: both rose to the level of Ambassador. Paul and Patricia were enormously proud of each other, and never regretted the occasional sacrifices that were necessary to maintain two successful careers. They were pathbreakers. It was not easy, but they made it work for each other — and for the rest of us as well.
Professionalism. Resolve. Commitment to the work and the people he worked with. Admirable qualities all, but somewhat dry.
To get a real sense of Paul and what he meant to the Foreign Service, we have to add his zest for life; his wit and love of a good time and a good laugh. Paul was fun. In Latin America, he could send erudite foreign ministers. scrambling for their dictionaries with his jokes and puns in Spanish. When Paul discovered something new that he loved — a TV show, e-bikes, a tennis racquet-shaped mosquito zapper, a writer — his enthusiasm swept all before him. Years ago, shortly before a Vacation in the Caribbean (at Paul’s recommendation) he insisted I take the first three volumes of his Patrick O’Brian series of swashbuckling stories of the high seas during the Napoleonic Wars. I explained that I didn’t read historical fiction, had kept my swash buckled my whole life, and that thoughts of the sea made me reach for the Gravol. It was no use. Off I went. After three days, I spent the rest of the holiday on the beach yelling out at passing yachts trying to locate volumes 4, 5 and 6. Then- Governor General Adrienne Clarkson had the same experience when she came calling on Paul as Ambassador in Chile: she started reading the. first book the night before leaving and wanted more for the long flight home.
Paul knew best. Paul always knew best. His wisdom, judgment and example made our work better and our lives richer. He was a wonderful, extraordinary man. We miss
Originally published in bout de papier, Vol. 30, No. 3 (2018), p. 49. Read the rest of this issue →
