CHAPTER 3

The End of the Empire Tie

The Suez Crisis of 1956 was a watershed in Canadian relations with Britain. To John Diefenbaker and his party, it had seemed to be only a further example of the Liberal government’s willingness to follow Washington’s policy, but once the Progressive Conservatives were in office they gradually came to realize that the British tie was much weaker than it had been. Suez had demonstrated that Britain (and France, too) no longer had an independent military capacity that would permit decisive and quick action; it had also shown everyone the extent of American control over the economies of the West. What was Canada’s place in such a world with approximately three quarters of Canadian trade going to the United States? What was the significance of the Commonwealth in this new world? And could someone like Diefenbaker, an emotional monarchist and a lifelong believer in Britain and the British, adjust to the realities of mid-century? Questions of trade and race would put the Conservative prime minister to the test, and in the process, while relations with Britain deteriorated, the hollowness of Canada’s links with the old Mother Country would be exposed.

I

John Diefenbaker was exhilarated by his attendance at the Commonwealth Prime Ministers’ Conference in the days immediately after the election of 1957. To be in London as the first Conservative prime minister of Canada since 1935 was the fulfilment of long-held dreams. And the British warmed to the Canadian too. The Agent-General for Saskatchewan, Graham Spry, reported to Regina that Diefenbaker was “making a very favourable impression here by his energy and directness. He is, of course, being welcomed here in all Conservative circles with enormous rejoicing and to read some of the cheaper newspapers one would think that Canada had not only rejoined the Commonwealth, but was almost going to amalgamate with the United Kingdom.”¹ In the circumstances, it was probably inevitable that when the emotional prime minister returned to Canada on July 7 he told a press conference that it was his government’s “planned intention” to divert 15 per cent of Canada’s purchases from the United States to the United Kingdom. This was, Diefenbaker said later, “a direct challenge to British industry and initiative.”²

The Ottawa bureaucracy, which had known nothing of this idea, was stunned by the Prime Minister’s remarks. The pledge was simply impossible to meet. The figures were very clear, as the Cabinet was shown in a memorandum from the Department of Finance on August 8. A 15-per-cent diversion meant that the British share of total Canadian imports would have to increase from 8.5 per cent, where it stood in 1956, to 19.5 per cent or, in dollar terms, by $625 million. That was a problem, not least because Britain’s share of the Canadian market had been dropping continuously – from 56.1 per cent in 1870 to 16.8 per cent in 1921-31, and to the 8.5 figure in 1956. In that last year, American imports made up almost three quarters of the Canadian total.

The historical trend was significant enough, but there were also other factors. First, the British had no chance whatsoever to enter half the Canadian import market either because they did not export the goods in question or because their products were unsuitable for Canada for reasons of styling or design or lack of industrial capacity. There were also barriers caused by international marketing arrangements, patents, and the General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade, which forbade Canada from giving advantages to any one country. There were some prospects for a shift of trade, but “a diversion of 15 percent of Canadian imports from the United States to the United Kingdom would, in effect, mean diverting roughly 35 percent of Canadian imports from the United States to the United Kingdom in those trade categories which appear to offer scope….” That meant, the officials said, that British exporters would have to increase their sales in Canada between three and four times. That was highly unlikely.³

In other words, the Diefenbaker “diversion” was a dead duck, a policy pronouncement made without any understanding of the facts. The British could calculate just as well as the Canadian officials, and when a British minister brought a free trade proposal to Ottawa on September 9, it was immediately countered by Diefenbaker who said “that he recognized the advantages it would provide to U.K. exports, but could not see what advantage there would be in it for Canada.” The idea was rejected firmly and officially on September 10.⁴ Something that threatened Canadian producers was not to be welcomed. The result was that Cabinet ministers also began to back off from the Prime Minister’s diversion pledge,⁵ and Donald Fleming, the Finance minister, even told a Joint United States–Canada Committee on Trade and Economic Affairs meeting that it was all the doing of the press. The newspapers, Fleming said, “had reported a statement of Mr. Diefenbaker’s as involving a definite proposal to divert imports…. He explained that what Mr. Diefenbaker had in mind was mainly the fact that if a shift of the order of 15% were to take place among the sources of Canadian imports, without injury to Canadian producers, this would largely remove the problem of imbalance which was worrying so many Canadians. Mr. Diefenbaker,” Fleming added, “was not suggesting that it would be possible or desirable to carry out a transfer of this kind overnight…any shift would be expected to proceed in a way which would not injure Canadian producers….”⁶

The demise of the trade diversion was a minor episode. But it did demonstrate a certain rashness on the part of the Prime Minister, and it is likely that it led the British to have some doubts about the detailed planning that might underlie the new government’s policy promises. The dénouement also demonstrated that Diefenbaker’s fervent Britishness could be waived if the implementation of any policy might ultimately cause hardship to Canadian producers.

II

The same disposition was apparent during the long battle between London and Ottawa over Great Britain’s attempt to enter the European Common Market. To London, entry into the EEC seemed a necessity if Britain was to maintain a place in the world politically and to survive economically. To Ottawa, London’s approach to Europe was almost treason, a virtual betrayal of the Commonwealth and of the hundred thousand Canadians who had died to defend Britain in the two World Wars. The sense of outrage, when heightened by the potential losses in trade preferences, was pronounced indeed.

There seemed to be a good deal at stake. A Finance department paper prepared in 1958 noted that Britain was Canada’s second-largest market and her principal market for wheat. The Common Market countries also took substantial amounts of Canadian goods – to the tune of $402 million in 1957 – and Britain and the Six supplied about one quarter of Canada’s imports. There had been cautious enthusiasm for European unity under the Liberal government, and traces of this remained in the public service in 1958. “It is recognized that a strong and prosperous Europe can play a vital role in the expansion of world trade. However,” and here the true fear was evident, “if the regional arrangements in Europe were to develop along restrictive lines they would create divisive forces with serious implications for the interests of all concerned.” The Treaty of Rome, the basis of the Common Market, caused concern, in large part because the new common tariff, carefully balanced to satisfy all the Six, seemed likely to be higher than the existing tariffs in some areas.⁷ There was an additional fear, too. “To the extent that new European arrangements lessen our markets overseas,” one memorandum prepared for a meeting of ministers and officials on December 28, 1959, observed, “our dependence on the United States market will inevitably be increased.”⁸ Given John Diefenbaker’s desire to increase trade with Britain, the prospect of having to expand trade with the Americans in an attempt to replace lost British markets was not a palatable thought.

But for the moment London was not part of the Six; instead it belonged to the “Seven,” the European Free Trade Area and, as British officials told their Canadian counterparts at the United Kingdom/Canada Continuing Committee on Trade and Economic Affairs in June 1960, the only practical solution they could see was for some form of association between the Six and the Seven. But because of French attitudes, this did not seem a suitable time to reach a long-range agreement. “The United Kingdom’s present course was to consolidate the Seven and permit a situation to develop until…a new approach became feasible. In the meantime they were reassessing their position and examining all their possibilities, consistent with the existence of the Six and the Seven as two separate groups and with their wider obligations toward the Commonwealth and in the G.A.T.T.”⁹ In other words, Britain was keeping all its options open and waiting for something to turn up.

Within a very few months, however, the British were once again looking toward the Common Market with yearning eyes. In September 1960, Diefenbaker wrote, he received notice of Britain’s intention to renew negotiations with the European Economic Community.¹⁰ A meeting in London gave the Canadians the chance to put forward “strong” arguments against this that “undoubtedly gave U.K. Ministers some food for thought,” or so Norman Robertson, the Under-Secretary of State for External Affairs, wrote.¹¹ Prime Minister Diefenbaker had his first chance to put his concerns directly to Prime Minister Harold Macmillan when the British leader visited Ottawa on April 10, 1961. What would happen to Commonwealth preferences if Britain joined the Common Market? “We would have to negotiate,” Macmillan said, “– that is why we have not joined.” But moments later, Macmillan admitted that the preferences would probably have to be reduced. Was it not better that Britain should join Europe and become a live partner in a growing trade association than become bankrupt on its own and thereby cease to be a profitable market for anyone? To the British, the choice was between the short-run advantages of the Commonwealth preferences and the long-run advantages that came from access to a large, rich market. That did not calm Diefenbaker, nor did Macmillan’s comment that he had no fear of European common institutions evolving in due course.¹² The British also made clear that the Kennedy Administration wanted them to go into Europe – London’s reliability as an ally could help stabilize the situation between France and Germany.¹³

But if the government was alarmed by British approaches to the Common Market, Canadian business seemed remarkably calm. The president of INCO saw radical changes as possible but, he warned, Canadians should not assume “that Britain is obligated over the indefinite future to do buying here….” The deputy manager of the Bank of Montreal took a similar line, adding that only small proportions of Canada’s trade would be affected and that losses in one area would be offset by gains in others.¹⁴ But the Ottawa view was different, and, faithfully reflecting it, the High Commissioner in London, George Drew, told British audiences that they should compare the immense potential of the Commonwealth with the sadly limited raw materials of Europe.¹⁵

The battle lines were being drawn even before Britain made its application for Common Market membership on July 31, 1961. Duncan Sandys, the Secretary of State for Commonwealth Relations, came to Ottawa in mid-July, and the Canadians prepared thoroughly for the meeting, marshalling their political arguments and their trade data. In the first place, the Ottawa ministers and officials claimed to fear for the future of the multiracial Commonwealth if Britain entered Europe. But Ottawa also wished to be cautious, not wanting to obstruct London in protecting the British national interest – and not wanting to take the blame if Britain was refused entry by the Six. In trade terms, studies demonstrated that 35 per cent of Canada’s industrial exports to Britain would be unaffected if Britain joined, and an additional 25 per cent could probably be given free entry. On a further 7 per cent of Canadian exports, the loss of preference would not cause problems. On some other materials, amounting to 10 per cent of exports, the preference was small and officials believed that the Canadian competitive position could be preserved. All in all, 77 per cent of Canadian industrial exports to the United Kingdom, or half of all Canadian exports to Britain, would not be hurt if Britain joined the Common Market. The major damage would be to the export of semi-manufactured goods – $163 million in trade in 1960. There were also threats to agricultural sales, notably wheat and barley.

Surely the British could negotiate with the Six to protect Canada’s interests? Not so, said the Canadian officials: “…the prospects are that the U.K. is not in a strong negotiating position…. Moreover, the U.K. is likely to use up a good deal of its limited negotiating strength to accommodate the more specialized problems of certain other parts of the Commonwealth which depend on a narrower range of products.”¹⁶

Sandys made his case to the cool Canadians on July 13. There were uncertainties for British industries too – some might “go to the wall” – if Britain joined Europe; “the over-riding consideration, however, was the virtual certainty that the United Kingdom would suffer a severe economic decline if it stayed out of Europe.” He hoped that Commonwealth trade could expand, but Britain recognized its limitations and realized that Commonwealth free trade was not practicable, a mild shot at the Canadian rejection of the idea a few years before. The minister had examined Canada’s trade with Britain, and he admitted that one-sixth would be affected by the Common Market’s agricultural policy, still to be settled. “He was hopeful though that Canadian hard wheat exports would not suffer…. For foodstuffs generally he thought duty-free quotas might be a solution.” Sandys expected that Canadian raw materials could be safeguarded, and he was pessimistic only about terms of entry for manufactured goods “which, although they represent only 2% of Canada’s total exports, were still of great importance….”¹⁷

According to a Canadian reporter in London who saw Sandys’s confidential report on his visit, the British minister had not been impressed with Canadian arguments. The Canadians had not yet read the Treaty of Rome, he said, and their objections were made in ignorance and coloured by political considerations.¹⁸ That was unworthy as comment, but it was paralleled by Canadian editorials that were beginning to denounce Ottawa’s “dog in the manger” attitudes to Britain and the Market.¹⁹

The dog was soon howling. At the Commonwealth Economic Consultative Council meeting in Accra, Ghana, in mid-September 1961, Donald Fleming, the Minister of Finance, and George Hees, the Minister of Trade and Commerce since October 1960, gave full vent to their outrage at Britain’s attempt to desert the Empire. Fleming told the meeting that Canada – and the Commonwealth – viewed the British step with “disappointment and grave apprehension,” while his colleague warned that American protectionist moves might result. Hees also doubted that the Commonwealth would survive – it was “held together by tradition, trust and trade, and any weakening of any one of those would weaken all three.” As the press put it, Canada had told Britain to choose either Europe or the Commonwealth.²⁰

London was agog at the Canadian vehemence and at the very critical communiqué issued by the meeting. The Sunday Telegraph described it “as a deliberate attempt to sabotage British entry altogether,” the policy “only of the Canadians whose eloquent Finance Minister, Mr. Fleming, drafted the document. Mr. Fleming…is well aware of the value of appealing over the heads of the British Government to the profound fund of Commonwealth sentiment that exists in this country.”²¹ Curiously, the Cabinet in Ottawa was upset, the ministers seeing the noise from Ghana as “unwise policy and unwise politics” and they urged that “Canada should now accept as a fait accompli” the British decision to go into Europe.²² Similar views seem to have been held by Prime Minister Diefenbaker, who was “boiling,” R.A. Bell, Fleming’s parliamentary secretary, wrote to his minister. “He called me into the lobby…then asked if I did not believe you and Hees were ‘going a long distance in endeavouring to destroy the British Commonwealth’…then said ‘unless they learn to behave themselves I will call them both home and immediately.’ ”²³

Fleming was chastened – and called back early – but he nonetheless told the House of Commons on his return that “what was said…not only by Canada but by others, was that if the United Kingdom adheres to the community on the basis of the treaty of Rome, there will inevitably follow a change in political relationships. That is the inevitable consequence of the treaty of Rome….”²⁴ Perhaps, but the Globe and Mail denounced Fleming’s “Song of Woe,” and O.J. Firestone, a former government economist close to the Tories, told Diefenbaker that Canada was being pushed into a rigid position that was being interpreted as “ganging up” on the British, and even worse using superficial statistics that exaggerated the trade losses to do so. Nor had the government put forward any alternatives, a negative position not in keeping with the status of senior dominion.²⁵ Leon Ladner, a leading British Columbia Conservative, also wrote to Diefenbaker to say that his province’s forest industry believed Britain had already decided to enter the Common Market and, the implicit message was, further comments like those in Ghana could only harm future sales to Britain and Europe.²⁶

But despite the criticism in Cabinet and out, there was no sign of any change in the government position. A delegation sent to London for conversations between September 18 and 28 reported that although the British had urged Canada to be more “constructive,” it had maintained its mandate of “ascertaining, in the light of the assurances which had been given by British Ministers, what measures the United Kingdom proposed to ensure that damage to essential Canadian interests would be avoided” if Britain joined.²⁷

What was the attitude of the Canadian public? The British thought they knew, and their press regularly reported that the Diefenbaker government’s position had little support. Certainly the polls found that 50 per cent of informed Canadians disapproved of the government’s position.²⁸ This worried George Drew in London who fretted that the government case was not being well made and particularly in Britain. “Nothing is said by most of the British writers about the political consequences…. Then there is the key question. What does protection of the position of members of the Commonwealth really mean. Surely it means what it says. Our trade in every field…must be protected and that doesn’t mean partial protection or switches which might advance primary as against secondary sales.” To Drew, always feisty and bitterly unhappy with British actions, his government’s position had to be based “on the preservation and increase of Canadian jobs…. The Canadian Government has not sought to tell the British Government how to run its own business. But it has a duty as well as a right to tell the Canadian people what the result would be of any particular course.”²⁹ For the former Ontario premier and national Tory leader, the main issues were trade and jobs; but if the loss in trade would be small, as Canadian officials and some businessmen had said, then other factors were at work.

Most important was the fear that if Britain went into the Common Market Canada’s only alternative would be to throw in its economic lot wholly with the Americans. This was what ultimately concerned Diefenbaker, Drew, Fleming, and Hees. But that choice had in fact been made years before, and the great bulk of Canada’s trade already was with the United States, only a trickle continuing to cross the sea. The Commonwealth, greatly expanded, racially mixed, and already turning into a foreign aid organization, simply was not a strong force in world policy. The ministers were out of date; the public, instinctively, had grasped the reality. And some officials in Ottawa, looking at the long view, were already beginning to think of free trade with the United States once again as the answer.³⁰

Perhaps Ottawa’s best hope might be France. In the late fall of 1961, however, with Britain already deep in negotiation with the Six, President de Gaulle told Donald Fleming, “We are willing to have the United Kingdom in the Common Market, but not the Commonwealth.”³¹ That was no comfort, for Ottawa believed that to be essentially London’s view too, a feeling that was strengthened when Macmillan told the Minister of Finance a few days later that he would “try” to protect Commonwealth interests. The British prime minister did not reply to questions that asked him to define “protection.” About all that the Canadians could cling to were the remarks of Edward Heath, the Lord Privy Seal, who had said at the beginning of the negotiations with the Six that “Britain could not join the EEC under conditions in which this [Commonwealth] trade connection was cut with grave loss, even ruin for some of the Commonwealth countries.”³² No one suggested that Canada faced either ruin or grave loss. Fleming, therefore, must have been mildly receptive when his friend Grattan O’Leary wrote to say that he had little confidence in British promises. “What I fear, alas, – it may only be my Fenian youth coming back on me – is that you will discover what the Irish learned through four centuries, namely: That when it comes to their own advantage the English will sell you down the river every time, assuring you that it is God’s will and for your own gain.”³³ The news from the Brussels talks early in December, where the British had made no headway in the negotiations to protect Commonwealth trade, was that London wanted Canada to agree to water down its position.³⁴ The O’Leary-like fears in Ottawa were increasing.

The officials concerned, however, professed not to be surprised. Most took the view that Britain should go into Europe in its own interest and in the interest of making Europe as strong as possible. Most appear to have considered the threat to Canadian trade to be relatively minor and, in any case, to be justified by the political gains in Europe. But for some, Canada had to bargain as toughly as possible with the British if only to save those preferences that could be preserved.³⁵ In any case, as Norman Robertson wrote to his minister, Howard Green, on January 2, 1962, “Nothing in the course of the negotiations so far seems to call for a reassessment of our view that Britain will find it virtually impossible to maintain satisfactory terms of access for Canadian exports to the British market.”³⁶ No one expected much, in other words.

Nonetheless, meetings between Edward Heath and Canadian ministers early in January calmed the worried in Cabinet. Heath repeated his pledges about protecting Canadian exports, and Fleming stated that he was satisfied that London was doing everything it could in the negotiations.³⁷ At a March meeting, the Canadians told Heath that the British proposals on foodstuffs and industrial items “were just not good enough and that they should go back and press strongly for something a good deal better.” That was tough talk. Heath could only promise that there would be a prime ministers’ meeting in the fall, after which Britain would have to decide for itself whether to join the Market or not.³⁸

But the old paranoia was resurfacing. George Drew – sending telegrams marked, to the despair of External Affairs, for the Prime Minister only – said that Britain “is engaged in the unilateral planning of the fragmentation of the Commonwealth….” If that was accepted, Drew said, referring to the special terms London was seeking for the trade of the African and Asian members, “all the King’s horses and all the King’s men may never be able to put it together again.”³⁹ Drew’s warnings emerged when Diefenbaker and Macmillan met at the end of April in Ottawa. The Canadian stressed “the importance of Commonwealth preferences to Canada as a means of staving off United States domination,” and he added that “the Government was keenly concerned with the preservation of the Commonwealth and feared that its future would be endangered by the political implications of United Kingdom entry.” The Commonwealth was an important part of the Canadian identity, Diefenbaker said, almost certainly believing his own words, and he “could not be unconcerned that, if the United Kingdom should join the E.E.C., the basic buttress of the Commonwealth might go.”⁴⁰ Macmillan did not seem moved by the rhetoric.

Nonetheless, by August 5, the negotiations in Brussels had been adjourned until October without agreement. The Prime Ministers’ Conference, set to begin September 10, would thus take place without a firm offer on the table. Still, as Macmillan told Diefenbaker, the negotiations had progressed sufficiently so that Britain could present a reasonably comprehensive outline of terms of entry.⁴¹ Sadly battered by the June 1962 election and in the throes of an austerity programme, the Diefenbaker government was not in its best condition, but Diefenbaker was ready to fight.

His officials advised caution. Britain was going to go into Europe, they said, not least because everyone was manoeuvring to avoid being saddled with the blame for keeping it out. That should include Canada: “We think Canada should not get into the position of leading any open opposition to British entry or being blamed as a principal cause of failure of British efforts to enter.” The British would not get better terms, the officials said, and this meant that all Canada’s preferences in the U.K. market would be gone by 1970. And when the question was asked, as it inevitably would be, whether Britain had lived up to its promises to protect Commonwealth interests, the officials suggested phrasing an answer to suggest that the injuries to Canadian trade would not be intolerable in the light of the benefits to be obtained.⁴²

If Diefenbaker was not convinced – “British entry into the E.E.C.,” he told Cabinet, “would be the occasion, if not the cause, of the dissolution of the Commonwealth by about 1970” – increasingly his ministers were. On August 30 and 31 the Cabinet discussed the forthcoming prime ministers’ meeting and heard Gordon Churchill, the former Trade and Commerce minister, say that only 17 per cent of Canada’s trade was with the U.K. and only 10 per cent would be affected by British entry. “We were not in such a difficult position as New Zealand,” Churchill said, a view he reiterated to Diefenbaker in a forceful memorandum, and “we must remember that what we say in Britain about the effects on our trade will come back to Canada.” That seemed to be the general view, and the ministers urged that there be no ganging up against Britain. Simply keep the Canadian position in view, they said.⁴³

The Prime Minister did not listen. When the conference opened on September 10, Diefenbaker was full of fire. Although, as one British newspaper put it, “Mr. Diefenbaker, it was confidently expected, would be speaking for the benefit of the yokels back on the prairies,” that was not the way it turned out. “But as Mr. Macmillan watched and Mr. Diefenbaker adjusted the microphone on Tuesday morning [September 11], it was at once plain that something was badly wrong.” The Sunday Observer went on to say that the Canadian “was obviously in a highly emotional state…. He was rejecting the whole tenor of Mr. Macmillan’s speech…. This wasn’t aimed at the yokels. This was a direct assault on the British government.”⁴⁴

That description was not far wrong. Diefenbaker began by saying that he had listened to Macmillan’s address with its exposition of the political and economic reasons why Britain sought to go into Europe. He shared the concern for the future of Europe and “recognised that the prosperity of every member of the Commonwealth depended on that of Britain,” a state of affairs that had not been true for Canada, at least, for over a half century. But there were still unanswered questions. Macmillan had said Britain was dependent on trade and needed the larger market of Europe to grow. But “if that argument was sound then it would seem to follow that Canada should seek a similar close relationship with the United States.” Yet, despite many offers, Canada had refused to do this because it would have meant a weakening of the relationship with Britain and the Commonwealth.

Diefenbaker then gave close scrutiny to all the stated British reasons for wanting to join Europe, doubted that Britain would ever achieve great influence in Europe, and turned to a dissection of pledges by British ministers since 1959. What had changed since those promises were made? He was disappointed that the Common Market countries had failed to show more understanding of Commonwealth trade needs, and he feared that “very few of the basic exports of Canada would be unaffected. He would like to know whether it would be possible to maintain traditional sales of Canadian wheat under the levy system. Would sales of canned salmon be maintained when the prices were forced up by the tariff?…He would like to ask whether some Canadian manufactures could not be considered for nil duties….” Diefenbaker then said that while he understood the difficulties about foodstuffs, “he would be less than frank if he did not say that the arrangements outlined did not provide a genuine assurance that Canadian trade would continue at satisfactory levels.”

The Canadian said that he had tried to give a realistic assessment of the incomplete settlement that had been brought back from Brussels. He thought that a further prime ministers’ meeting might be necessary after the final round of negotiations. And Diefenbaker concluded by expressing his fervent feeling for the Commonwealth. “He thought they should weigh all the considerations carefully before deciding on what would be a fundamental change of course. He was not at this stage saying that it was the wrong course: only asking whether it was the only course.”⁴⁵

Called a Cassandra by the Observer, Diefenbaker was not alone. All the prime ministers who spoke on September 11 objected to Britain’s joining the Market on the present terms. “Macmillan had hoisted the flag of Europe,” the Sunday Observer wrote, but Diefenbaker and his colleagues were shooting it down, and Diefenbaker drew an ovation from his peers. “One of the Ghanaians, as he told the Queen a few nights later, ‘was so moved that I thought I was going to cry.’ ”⁴⁶

The result was that on September 17 Macmillan defined four points on which all were agreed: the expansion of world trade; improvement of the market for primary foodstuffs; recognition by the developed countries that trade was important to the less developed; and the need for measures to regulate the disposal of agricultural surpluses to meet the requirements of those in want. Those points, he said, would be in the minds of his negotiators in Brussels. On that basis, the conferees agreed that Britain should return to the table to renew the negotiations – which in any case none of them could have prevented and all claimed to desire. As for Diefenbaker, his last word – and one that did not find its way into the communiqué – was to call for all the trading nations “to meet at the earliest practicable date to give consideration to how to deal with trading problems before us in a way which will be to the mutual advantage of all.”⁴⁷

In effect, the result of the conference was reserved judgement on the British application. If the terms were better after the next round of negotiations a reasonable assumption was that the Commonwealth could not say nay; if not…

But all the Commonwealth huffing and puffing turned out to be for naught. In a press conference on January 14, 1963, President de Gaulle revealed his “unbending attitude toward any significant concessions designed to facilitate British entry into the Common Market,” or so an External Affairs memorandum paraphrased him.⁴⁸ The Brussels negotiations came to their end with a French veto on January 29, and Britain, much to the relief of the Diefenbaker government, blamed only the French for this.

The Common Market crisis was over for the Progressive Conservative government. Diefenbaker and his increasingly reluctant ministers and officials had fought with vigour and with substantial effect – but for what? The trade, except for that in a few sectors, was small in proportion to the total Canadian trade, and the Commonwealth as some ministers had admitted around the Cabinet table was probably doomed to disintegration and, therefore, of less importance to Canada than hitherto.⁴⁹ What the Conservatives had been fighting for was not trade but the idea of the Commonwealth as it existed in John Diefenbaker’s mind, a British-led community of nations that fought the good fight and co-operated on all things. It was a figment of the imagination, but not for Diefenbaker. To admit that was to admit that Canada was doomed to slide into the American maw, and he could not do that. The thought that somehow Canada might stand on its own as an independent North American state did not seem to occur to the Prime Minister.

III

If the Common Market crisis had revealed Diefenbaker’s Imperial emotionalism and showed him at his worst, the question of South Africa showed him at his best, genuinely concerned for human rights in the world. The question was whether South Africa would be permitted to continue its Commonwealth membership after it became a republic, an issue of importance because of the country’s policy of apartheid or racial separation. The blacks, by far the largest part of the population, were kept separate from the white minority and, the implication was clear, were to remain in a subservient status. This was reprehensible at any time, but by the end of the 1950s the world and the Commonwealth were changing quickly. Former colonial states were securing their independence, taking seats at the United Nations, and beginning to weigh offers from the protagonists in the Cold War. The Third World was an area of contention between the West and Moscow and Peking, and in those circumstances South Africa’s racial policies did damage to Western policy. Equally important to the Diefenbaker government, if the Commonwealth were to survive as a multiracial institution, the South African question would have to be resolved or, at the very least, somewhat ameliorated. If the sore continued to fester, the non-white members might depart, leaving Britain, Canada, Australia, New Zealand, and South Africa alone in a very different world. To avoid that was the Canadian aim.

On the other hand, South Africa was a sister dominion, a state that had shared in the World Wars, a nation that had built itself, much like Canada, out of the struggles of two racial-linguistic groups. For most Canadians, South Africa was a democracy (for whites), a good if rather limited trading partner, a friend and ally. Could Canada turn on South Africa and help to eject it from the Commonwealth?⁵⁰

Those kinds of questions troubled the Prime Minister. South Africa was an independent nation, and Canada had to be careful about criticizing the internal workings of its friends. Even so, as Basil Robinson, the External Affairs officer in the Prime Minister’s Office, noted in February 1959, while Diefenbaker might refrain from open criticism of South African racial policies, no one should assume that “in his mind absence of public criticism equals an effort to cultivate friendship….”⁵¹ Still, the Prime Minister was not prepared to lead any assault on the Boers. That was amply clear on January 28, 1960, when the Canadian Labour Congress urged Canada to take a lead in pushing South Africa out of the Commonwealth. Diefenbaker “blew up” and told the labour leaders that “the Commonwealth was an association of independent states each with responsibility for its own internal affairs and that he had no intention whatever of raising the question of South Africa’s racial policies at the [May 1960] Prime Ministers’ Meeting with a view to causing South Africa to leave the Commonwealth.”⁵² In fact, as Robinson privately told R.B. Bryce, the Prime Minister “shrinks from expulsion,”⁵³ and that feeling persisted even after the Sharpeville massacre on March 21 when South African police fired into demonstrating black crowds and killed scores.

At the 1960 Prime Ministers’ Conference, the question of South African racialism was hotly argued. Diefenbaker himself saw Eric Louw, the South African foreign minister, in two private meetings and left him in no doubt of the Canadian lack of sympathy. But there was no indication of any willingness to ease restrictions on blacks, and the Prime Minister, as he wrote in his memoirs, said that the inevitable result was certain to be a bloodbath: “You can’t carry on like this. Your nation’s stand will turn the whole continent of Africa…against you. Your policies are not only wrong, but dangerous.”⁵⁴ But when the South Africans asked the Commonwealth states if South Africa was still welcome in the association, there was general agreement. The foreign minister then announced that his government proposed to hold a referendum to see if the electorate favoured a republican constitution. Before making this public, his government wished to receive Commonwealth consent to continuance in the association. There was more contention among the members, fear that a statement of the type desired would help the South African government in its campaign, and the resulting communiqué noted only that if a republican South Africa desired to remain in the Commonwealth, “the Meeting suggested that the South African Government should then ask for the consent of the other Commonwealth Governments….” There was, in other words, no guarantee of automaticity.⁵⁵

There was also the question of the reaction of the non-white members if South Africa sought to stay in the Commonwealth. In July 1960, Bryce went as a Canadian representative to the Commonwealth Study Group meeting at Chequers, the British prime minister’s official country estate. The study group was looking at a variety of constitutional points, but Bryce took the occasion to steer the conversation to the South African problem. His conclusion, as he reported to Ottawa, was: “There seems to be no doubt that if and when South Africa becomes a republic if she wishes to continue in the Commonwealth she must secure agreement of all the other members.” Bryce noted that “British officials present did not like being reminded of this and were clearly unhappy, but there was no way around it.” The Secretary to the Cabinet expressed his own doubts that unanimity could be achieved, a forecast none disputed. The Indian representative said he thought it unlikely Malaya and Ghana would agree; his own country and Pakistan might be expected to accept South Africa if there was no controversy, but if Malaya and Ghana objected, India, Pakistan, and probably Ceylon would have to oppose re-admission as well. To Bryce, the best solution in the circumstances was “to endeavour to persuade South Africa not to apply for continuation or re-admission but rather to leave the issue dormant and have those of us who are interested take such legal steps as are necessary to continue arrangements regarding preferences, citizenship, etc.”⁵⁶ This was a critical meeting in shaping Canadian attitudes, not least because it put Bryce on record as opposing re-admission if it meant a black-white split of the Commonwealth.

But the Department of External Affairs did not agree. There was a distinct aversion there to being a party to forcing the South Africans out. “We would prefer to have South Africa remain in the Commonwealth in its present status,” one Commonwealth Division memorandum said in August 1960, “but failing that we should like to retain some vestige of connection” to make re-entry possible should conditions change.⁵⁷ Later position papers struggled manfully to find ways to postpone a decision at least until another prime ministers’ meeting and, if possible, even after such a meeting.⁵⁸

But if External seemed clear in its position, so too was Bryce. As he told George Glazebrook of External Affairs, he could agree with everything in the department’s memorandum “except the conclusion…. This is going to be such an important issue on which the Prime Minister feels so deeply and is so perplexed that I think he should cogitate on this well argued case.” Bryce’s convictions were based on his own view of the Commonwealth as a club which “can do a little to bridge the gulf between the white and coloured – a gulf which I think will get wider and more visible in the next five or ten years. We need to preserve all the bridges we can across it.” If the South African membership was reaffirmed, Bryce argued, “that action will be interpreted widely as implying some approval or at least toleration of South Africa’s policies….” If the decision went the other way “then people…will realize with a start that the Commonwealth does mean seriously what it says from time to time in woolly phrases…. My own view is that at the meeting [of prime ministers now scheduled for March 1961] Canada should take the lead on this matter” and “express its view contrary to re-affirmation basing it upon the effect of the nature and reputation of the Commonwealth.” In the circumstances, Bryce suggested, the majority would stand with Canada, and South Africa would leave at once “and blame us for rejecting them.”⁵⁹

If the bureaucratic positions were clear, the Prime Minister still remained torn. In November 1960 he told Robinson that “he did not see how he could support South Africa’s readmission if the Union Government continued to refuse to pay even lip service to the idea of racial equality.” And, Diefenbaker added, he thought it a good idea to tell the South Africans this, warning them that “unless some solid sign of moderation were displayed on the racial issue they could not count on Canadian support….”⁶⁰ He said as much in a telegram to Macmillan later that month.⁶¹ But early in 1961 his position seemed to soften, probably in response to a message in reply from the British leader. Macmillan, worried about the “troublesome” and “holier than thou” Diefenbaker, argued that racialism was an internal South African question, just as much as the change from monarchy to republic was. Come to the conference uncommitted, he urged, for if South Africa were forced out, there would be no chance of liberalization there.⁶² That weighed on Diefenbaker, and he told Robinson that “his present view was that the time for ‘abrupt action’ had not arrived…the best course would be to give notice again to South Africa that its status as a member of the Commonwealth was in jeopardy.” All his emotional reactions were favourable to the South Africans, he added, except on racial policy, and his intent was to put the onus on them, to force them to make concessions or leave. “It was clear,” Robinson noted, that “he would be most reluctant to be responsible for South Africa’s expulsion from the Commonwealth at least until a further opportunity has been given for changes….”⁶³

And in February, less than a month before the Prime Ministers’ Meeting and after a long Cabinet discussion that focused on the fear that the Canadian public might condemn the government if it took the lead in forcing South Africa out of the club, Diefenbaker told Robinson that his “first aim” was to try “once again to bring about some concession on the part of South Africa, a concession of sufficient significance to forestall extreme measures….” But if Prime Minister H.F. Verwoerd would concede nothing, then Diefenbaker said “he favoured ‘postponement.’ ” What he wanted, Robinson believed, was either some promise of concessions or “some other respectable way of taking the heat off.”⁶⁴ In other words, the Canadian Prime Minister went to London uncertain in his own mind and with the intention of finding some way around the problem that could keep both South Africa and the African and Asian members in the Commonwealth.

Diefenbaker found the British still trying to argue that South Africa was entitled to automatic re-admission, a position that Duncan Sandys put to the Prime Minister when they met on March 9.⁶⁵ That was a non-starter, but what Diefenbaker wanted was a declaration of principles, a form of Commonwealth Bill of Rights. As Bryce scribbled it down in a garbled form, the Canadian statement read, “We propose that the Conference should announce forthwith, at the same time as it announced the continuation in membership of South Africa, that it has been decided at the next Conference the making of a declaration of principles to which all members of the Commonwealth will be expected to subscribe (and adhere). It should be stated as a minimum that this declaration will specify that member governments of the Commonwealth believe that all men in each nation are entitled to equal rights.”⁶⁶ The Prime Minister envisaged incorporating such a declaration in a communiqué that South Africa would either have to accept and amend its race policies or reject and thereby dissociate itself from the Commonwealth. That was a tough but tactful formula.⁶⁷

When the South African question came up on March 13 at the meeting, Diefenbaker began with his efforts to seek a delay. As South Africa was not scheduled to become a republic until May 31, “the constitutional processes…were by no means complete. It could not be said that South Africa had yet decided to become a republic…the issue had again been raised prematurely.” But that, he said, did not affect the need for a statement of the Commonwealth’s belief in the principle of equality of rights. The idea did not get very far, however, and discussion for the remainder of the day focused on the wording of the draft communiqué, as the inflexible Verwoerd and the Afro-Asian premiers, aided by Diefenbaker, fought over language. The Canadian, for example, insisted that the communiqué include a statement that it was the firm view of the meeting (other than the Prime Minister of South Africa) that South Africa’s racial policy was inconsistent with the basic ideals of the Commonwealth and with the Charter of the United Nations.⁶⁸

The next day, Diefenbaker again raised his “principles” idea and tried in vain to get the South Africans to take some step to indicate that they were prepared to move towards according some representation to those South Africans who were at present disfranchised. While Verwoerd was willing to accept some references to South Africa’s racial policies in the draft communiqué prepared by Macmillan, he was generally unforthcoming and insisted on including his defence of his country’s policies. The crisis came on March 15 with Diefenbaker, joined by Nehru of India, arguing that the revised draft gave too much prominence to Verwoerd’s views. Then the Ghanaian and Indian prime ministers attacked South Africa sharply, Dr. Nkrumah indicating that he might have to reconsider his country’s position in the association. After one or two more prime ministers had spoken, Macmillan adjourned the session so that all could reconsider their positions. When the meeting began again, Verwoerd announced that he was withdrawing South Africa’s application.⁶⁹

Verwoerd had made the decision himself, and while Diefenbaker as the only leader of a white nation to support the Afro-Asians had played a major part, he had not had to cast a veto on continued membership. That was something he had desperately wanted to avoid, and he had. But the South Africans blamed him in any case, Verwoerd agreeing with his foreign minister that the Canadian was “a vicious fellow” and telling Pretoria that Diefenbaker had supported the black Africans in “strong and hostile terms.”⁷⁰

Canadian opinion did not agree. Diefenbaker was hailed in the press and in Parliament, although some thought he had not tried hard enough to keep South Africa in the Commonwealth. It was a triumph for Diefenbaker. Despite his natural doubts and concerns, he had acted with vigour and intelligence in a good cause.

But where did the South African decision leave the Commonwealth in Canadian opinion? Canadians might cheer the idea of a multiracial Commonwealth and be delighted when their prime minister played an important part in a world forum, but despite those happy feelings the Commonwealth connection had slipped in importance. The simple truth was that the remnants of empire had ceased to matter very much. In 1956 when the Suez Crisis had sharply divided the country, the British connection had been a live issue of substantial political significance. But half a dozen years later, the emotive force was ebbing fast. Canada was more American now, John Diefenbaker notwithstanding, and the multiracial Commonwealth was less a part of the public consciousness than the old all-white club had been. The decline in trade with Britain was only one sign of the shift (as was Britain’s coldblooded willingness to sacrifice Canadian interests in her own), just as much as the constantly increasing imports to and exports from the United States. John Diefenbaker’s deep gut feelings for the British connection and the Commonwealth had somehow begun to seem anachronistic in only an eye-blink of time. Ironically, Diefenbaker’s attacks on British policy toward the EEC and his efforts to force South Africa out of the Commonwealth unless it moved toward racial equality had sped the process of change in Canada.