bout de papier, Vol. 4, No. 1 (1985) — Winter 1985 // Hiver 1985, pp. 30–31
Geoffrey Pearson on: “A Very Public
Life”, Vol. II, 1985 by Paul Martin — 680
pp.
P aul Martin’s second volume of memoirs is published at an appropriate time. Two thirds of its 680 pages are devoted to his part in the making and executing of Canadian foreign policy in the period 1948 to 1972, first as the head of Canada’s delegation to the UN General Assembly in the early 1950’s, and most importantly as the SSEA of Canada from 1963 to 1968. He continued to take some part in foreign affairs as the leader of the government in the Senate from 1968 to 1972 under Pierre Trudeau, although he implies that the new policies were less congenial to the style and attitudes he had developed over the course of some 40 years of active interest in the subject.
What do these memoirs tell us about Canadian foreign policy at a time when, once again, Canadians are engaged in that peculiarly Canadian habit of peering into the mirror of their collective conscience at the behest of a new government anxious to make sure it is doing the right things in the world?
Paul Martin dismisses the Trudeau review of foreign policy in 1969-70 with a peremptory wave of his hand – “You cannot turn foreign policy on and off like a tap, and the results of the review did not substantially change our policies or commitments” (p. 663). This view represents the conventional response of the professional to the amateur. But I suspect that he also found the review wrong-headed, not to say insulting, in its implicit assumption that Canada can do little to influence world affairs, and that the previous government had in fact neglected Canada’s “real” interests, which the review identified in largely domestic terms. I am surprised that Mr. Martin says so little about this attempt to reverse policy directions to which, elsewhere in his account, he clearly gives first priority. Perhaps the point is not worth extended discussion, in his view, for the record since that time hardly bears out the interpretation put forward then of foreign policy as “the extension abroad of Canadian policies”. On the other hand, Paul Martin pauses only rarely in these memoirs to reflect on the meaning of his actions. By and large, he must assume, they speak for themselves as the actions of a convinced internationalist who found it natural that Canada should be in the forefront of efforts to make the “system” work, whether or not Canada’s economic growth was a direct beneficiary.
The memoirs are most alive and convincing when internationalism of this kind is described at work, e.g., the admission of new members to the U.N. in 1955, the Cyprus drama of 1964 and the struggle over the future of UNEF in 1967, and especially, the dogged and finally unsuccessful attempt to bring the Johnson administration to the Vietnam bargaining table. There is one exception. The account of Canada’s relations with France during this period, ending in the fiasco of the de Gaulle visit to Montreal in 1967, provides a fascinating perspective on the very real imbroglio of domestic and foreign interests caught up by the “quiet revolution” in Quebec. Mr. Martin tends to allot more blame for the resulting mess to de Gaulle and his representatives in Canada than to the rivalries between Quebec and Ottawa, a judgement I would question, but one can only admire his patience and good will in the face of enough provocation and deceit to drive even diplomats to despair. If relations with France survived in reasonably good order, the credit is largely due to Paul Martin.
A commitment to internationalism is one thing. Putting appropriate policies into effect against the wishes of the U.S.A. is quite another. Students of Canadian foreign policy are likely to be most interested in the examples the author provides of the quintessential question for Canadian policymakers – how much can one oppose American policies without taking political risks at home? This was relatively easy to do in 1955, when Canada successfully persevered at the U.N. to find a formula to admit new members, despite apparent threats from Washington of retaliation against Canadian oil exports. The presence of outer Mongolia in the General Assembly was not an issue, after all, likely to galvanize the voters of Essex-East, nor to justify, even in Texas, a call to arms. But the struggle to seat two Chinas in the General Assembly a decade later was perceived on both sides of the border to be such an issue, and in the end Canada could go no further than to abstain on the Resolution which would have resolved the matter. Mr. Martin claims that he opened the door which Mr. Trudeau subsequently walked through in order to establish diplomatic relations with China. I am not so sure. Would a Canadian decision to take this step in 1967 instead of 1971 have brought a crisis in Canada/U.S.A. relations? There is a good deal of evidence in these memoirs that the State Department would have reacted badly to any such decision, and there is common sense in the view that Canada is best to reserve its differences with the U.S.A. to matters of direct concern. But the fact remains that Canada’s voice matters at the U.N. and in Washington as well, on issues of global security, such as American policy towards China in the 1960’s. To be silent, or to go along, is to abdicate opportunities to exert pressure on America’s policies with which we disagree, assuming that such pressure will lead in the direction we want.
That, of course, is the rub. American policies towards Vietnam in the period 1964- 67 were based on the assumption that Hanoi could be made to call off the war by the threat of the use of ever greater military force. Paul Martin disputes the decision taken by Prime Minister Pearson in 1965 to question such policies publicly, and especially to do so in the U.S.A. The point is debatable. President Johnson stopped the bombing of North Vietnam a few weeks atter the speech was made, no doubt for reasons as much domestic as foreign. But who is to say? What we do know is that all attempts by third parties to find a basis for negotiations failed. Paul Martin describes at length the Canadian role as go-between, presumably with the assistance of records that are not publicly available. But the full story remains obscure, especially in regard to motives in Washington. In any event it seems doubtful that Hanoi would have regarded Canada as a credible intermediary, and in the end the U.S.A. apparently took the same view. Mr. Martin makes a strong case for Canadian efforts to help find a settlement, but I for one wonder whether we given the fact that other channels existed and that direct communication was always possible, as Henry Kissinger was to demonstrate once the United States had decided to negotiate seriously.
These memoirs also contain much of interest about Canadian politics and politicians, which I leave to others to assess. Members of PAFSO will note, however, that many a foreign policy decision is taken in mysterious ways, and that the fate of even the best memorandum is far from certain. Nevertheless, Paul Martin makes it clear that he relied upon the loyalty and competence of his staff whose individual contributions he acknowledges generously. As one of those desk officers whom he admits were often called directly by “the Minister” (to the chagrin of their superiors), I am glad of the opportunity to acknowledge in turn that his leadership provided a sense of mission, direction and continuity in the best traditions of “the department”.
View the original scanned pages →
Originally published in bout de papier, Vol. 4, No. 1 (1985) — Winter 1985 // Hiver 1985, pp. 30–31. Read the rest of this issue →
