by Denis Smith
Diefenbaker read the morning papers and called Hogan at 8:30 am to tell him he had “done a complete job against the Federal Conservative Party.” Later in the day the prime minister commented that Hogan spoke only for himself and not for the party. Others suggested Hogan’s resignation.134 But it was clear that he represented a powerful element of opinion in the party and the country in the aftermath of the missile crisis.
The prime minister performed a precarious juggling act as more and more balls were tossed into the air. The conflicts in his cabinet represented acrimonious divisions in the party, the House of Commons, and the country. For several weeks Diefenbaker toyed in cabinet with the prospect of an early election, to be fought on a pro-nuclear platform after acceptance of nuclear warheads. His colleagues, while favouring a nuclear agreement, opposed that kind of single-issue campaign.135 In this atmosphere of disorientation, ministers prowled in and out of each other’s offices searching for some means of dealing with Diefenbaker’s foibles and the government’s disarray. The Liberal opposition reflected the disturbed mood as it harried the government with growing impatience. The Social Credit Party, which held the balance in the House, seemed less and less reliable as it manoeuvred for advantage before the faltering government. In Washington it was obvious that the Kennedy administration, in the afterglow of its Cuban triumph, had no further patience with Diefenbaker.
The new American ambassador to Canada, the career diplomat W.W. Butterworth, arrived in Ottawa in early December and had his first interview with the prime minister on December 17. Neither Diefenbaker nor Butterworth mentioned the delicate issues of warheads, the missile crisis, or relations with Cuba. Each seemed to be taking careful measure of the other, and the conversation centred on Britain’s negotiations for entry into the European Common Market. Butterworth reported to Washington that Diefenbaker, “although vigorous in speech and gesture … struck me as being unwell and exhibited evident signs of palsy or perhaps Parkinson’s disease.”136 President Kennedy and Prime Minister Macmillan had arranged to meet in the Bahamas just before Christmas to review the broad issues of East-West relations, the state of the alliance, and British weapons in the wake of the missile crisis. When Diefenbaker learned of the meeting, he invited Macmillan to Ottawa afterwards. Macmillan responded with an invitation to meet him in Nassau on December 21, following his meeting with Kennedy. Macmillan flattered Diefenbaker by proposing “a personal exchange of views on a number of international problems and in particular … the possibilities of negotiations with the Russians in the near future and of progress towards a general detente.” Diefenbaker accepted the opportunity for discussion of the big issues with alacrity. Whether or not he expected any relief from his own nuclear problems at the meeting, there was always political advantage in being seen as a leading partner in the North Atlantic alliance. In fact, after Cuba, Macmillan too was feeling marginalized in an alliance dominated by Washington, and, like Diefenbaker, was seeking escape from his own political and military dilemmas. Kennedy was about to cancel development of the Skybolt missile project, and Macmillan sought recompense for the loss of a weapon for his V-bombers.137
The Canadian party flew to Nassau on December 21, where Diefenbaker joined Macmillan and Kennedy for lunch in what he described as “the ninth inning” of the Macmillan-Kennedy talks.138 Photographs freeze a record of the false camaraderie of the occasion. Macmillan, at least, was satisfied that his negotiations had led to an American promise to provide Polaris missiles for a British fleet of nuclear submarines in exchange for the abandoned Skybolts, and in an unlikely bid for President de Gaulle’s support, Kennedy had also proposed discussions on the creation of a multinational NATO nuclear force. Nothing in the lunchtime discussion touched directly on the sensitive Canadian issue of the warheads.139
During the next day and a half, Diefenbaker and Macmillan met several times. They engaged in the usual tour d’horizon, but Diefenbaker was especially interested in defence questions. Macmillan reviewed his negotiations with Kennedy over weapons, while Diefenbaker searched for parallels in the Canadian-American relationship. He could find only the most tenuous links in the leaders’ hopes for further disarmament talks with the Soviets, the vague proposal for a multinational NATO nuclear force, and a general commitment to improved conventional forces.140 Not surprisingly, Kennedy and Macmillan had shown no interest in Diefenbaker’s problems during their own talks.
When Diefenbaker reported to parliament on the Nassau meetings on January 21, 1963, however, he had found what he claimed to be essential support for his attitude of indecision. “The agreement reached by Britain and the United States at Nassau,” he told the House, “represents the first firm commitment to certain ideas concerning military policy in the western alliance which have been evolving for some time.” The proposal for a joint NATO nuclear force, to include tactical forces in Europe, “has relevance for Canada and in the NATO Council is now the subject of intensive discussion in which Canada is fully participating.” What was more, “Nassau raised the whole question of how political and military control will be exercised in future within the western alliance. The discussions of this subject are bound to continue for many months to come … and I would not expect any firm decisions in the near future. I can say this much – that the Nassau agreement aims at preserving an objective long sought by this Government – a limitation on the further enlargement of the nuclear family in the national sense.” In Diefenbaker’s interpretation, the message of Nassau was made-to-order. “The whole future direction and shape of the military forces of NATO are in the process of review. The enormous costs of modern weapons systems and the speed with which they become obsolescent dictate the utmost care in reaching final decisions. It would be premature at this stage to say anything further about Western defence policy until there is a clearer indication as to whether or not some form of NATO multilateral nuclear force can be worked out.”141
But before that report to the House, the Canadian kaleidoscope had been severely shaken. The Diefenbakers remained in Nassau for the holiday, returning to Ottawa on January 2 after “a wonderful rest for Olive and me although she has suffered from the pain in her back more than usual.”142 In Nassau the prime minister addressed the local Kiwanis Club, but was disturbed that distorted press reports of his remarks might reach President Kennedy. He wrote a note to Basil Robinson in Washington to tell him that “at no time did I say, directly or indirectly, that the United States action violated NORAD. What I did say was that consultation had not taken place and there was no information until the late afternoon of the day that President Kennedy made his speech.” If Canada, “having responsibility for joint air defence, had been consulted, we would have been in readiness to act forthwith.” Robinson and his colleagues at the Canadian Embassy “did what little we could to spread the remedial balm.”143
The day after Diefenbaker’s return, the retiring NATO commander, General Lauris Norstad, arrived in Ottawa on a brief farewell visit. Diefenbaker cancelled a meeting with him, and Norstad was met at the airport by Pierre Sévigny, Air Chief Marshal Miller, and the press. Responding to a few questions, Norstad threw himself, by accident or design, into the Canadian controversy.
Reporter: General, do you consider that Canada has committed itself to provide its Starfighter squadron in Europe with tactical nuclear weapons?
Norstad: That is perhaps a question you should direct to the Minister rather than me, but my answer to that is “Yes.” This has been a commitment that was made, the continuation of the commitment that existed before, and as the air division is re-equipped that air division will continue to be committed to NATO and will continue to play an extremely, increasingly important role.
Reporter: In the field of tactical nuclear …?
Norstad: That’s right.
Reporter: I’m sorry, sir – will play an extremely important role with or without nuclear weapons?
Norstad: I would hope with both … We established a NATO requirement for a certain n
umber of strike squadrons and Canada committed some of its forces to meet this NATO established requirement. And this we depend upon.
At this point Norstad asked Miller if he was saying anything more than had already been acknowledged in Ottawa, to which Miller replied: “I think you’re quite right on that; quite right on that.” The questioning continued.
Reporter: Does it mean, sir, that if Canada does not accept nuclear weapons for these aeroplanes she is not actually fulfilling her NATO commitments?
Norstad: I believe that’s right. She would be meeting it in force but not under the terms of the requirements that have been established by NATO … We are depending upon Canada to produce some of the tactical atomic strike forces.
Reporter: General, did you say that you believe that Canada has committed this Starfighter group to tactical weapons?
Norstad: No doubt – I know that they have committed the Starfighters, yes…
Reporter: Sir, do the Starfighters have any capability, in your view, with conventional weapons?
Norstad: They could have. But … we should have other conventional forces. We should not degrade their deterrent value by making them conventional.144
Sévigny was silent throughout the questioning, but eventually ended it. Norstad departed for Washington, leaving ministers scurrying for cover. Diefenbaker was infuriated but refused comment; others insisted Canada always fulfilled its commitments. The newspapers turned their questions back on the prime minister. Had Canada made a commitment to nuclear weapons or not? The headline of André Laurendeau’s editorial in Le Devoir went further: “Do Canadians have a government?”145
Harkness urged Diefenbaker to resume negotiations to accept the warheads, but without success. Norstad’s frankness prompted only stubborn denial. Diefenbaker “went on at length complaining about Norstad and arguing that the situation was now impossible.” Harkness recalled:
I pointed out the decision to secure the warheads had been made, that Norstad had said nothing we had not said ourselves, and that time had run out on us because our forces now had the weapons and thus no reasonable arguments for further delay could be put forward. He was completely evasive in regard to the whole matter and it became increasingly evident that he had changed his mind and was unwilling to proceed as agreed on about a month and a half earlier.146
Despite Harkness’s advice that Green and Churchill favoured renewed negotiations, and that more than half the cabinet wanted an early decision, Diefenbaker kept the issue off the cabinet agenda. Harkness decided that he would resign from cabinet unless the question was settled “in a very short time.”147
The Liberal Party’s policy on nuclear weapons had been almost as confusing as the government’s. Since January 1961 the party’s official stance had opposed nuclear weapons for Canada’s NORAD forces and accepted them for NATO units only if they were under collective NATO control. But Pearson’s advisers, including the defence critic Paul Hellyer, pressed him to make an unequivocal declaration in favour of taking the warheads for the four weapons systems designed for them. On January 12, 1963, Pearson chose a speech in Scarborough, Ontario, to declare that he was “ashamed if we accept commitments and then refuse to discharge them.” Canada should “end at once its evasion of responsibility, and … discharge the commitments it has already accepted for Canada,” while also undertaking to renegotiate its way out of a nuclear role for the longer run. The declaration caused a substantial rift in his own party, but gave Pearson a new image of decisiveness that was bound to reflect badly on his rival. In Washington, the administration took note, and Basil Robinson reported a fresh sense that agreement could await another Canadian election, which would “result in a better prospect of a solution palatable to the United States.”148
Harkness believed that Pearson’s about-face relieved Diefenbaker of his most serious political problems. He could safely accept nuclear warheads without risking defeat in the House and a divisive election campaign. But when he met the prime minister to urge an immediate decision, the response was perverse. “To my complete surprise he took the position that we must now oppose the position taken by Pearson and delay any decision on acquiring the warheads. I told him that this was impossible – we would be completely illogical, would make ourselves look ridiculous and, from the political point of view, would lose the backing of many of our strongest supporters. I said that I could not support and argue in the House, or in an election campaign, any course of action differing from that decided on in November. We parted on strained terms.”149
As the nuclear stormclouds gathered, the Progressive Conservative Party prepared for its annual meeting in Ottawa. Eddie Goodman, who was chairman of the resolutions committee, knew that the weapons issue was the only matter of controversy facing the meeting and that delegates would insist on debating a resolution favouring the acceptance of warheads. On January 15 his committee passed a “clear, but mild resolution” commending the government for its attitude on disarmament and urging it to accept nuclear weapons unless the great powers adopted a nuclear disarmament treaty before July 1963. In negotiation with Diefenbaker and Green, Goodman agreed to set that deadline back to December, but Diefenbaker subsequently ordered party headquarters not to print and distribute the resolution. Goodman and the national secretary, Flora MacDonald, went elsewhere for copies, and held a press conference to ensure that the resolution reached the public. Diefenbaker and Allister Grosart then altered the agenda of the meeting to place the prime minister’s address just before Goodman’s presentation of resolutions, and the Chief implored the meeting, with all his passion, “not to tie my hands in my quest for peace.” Goodman admired the performance and commented to MacDonald: “At least we made the s.o.b. go all out to beat us.”
The prime minister had one more device in his hands. When the applause died away and Goodman finally took the platform, he was faced with an amendment to the defence resolution providing that it should be “referred to the government for its consideration and decision” rather than approved. Goodman argued instead that Canada should “regain its self-respect by meeting its international obligations,” but the meeting overwhelmingly adopted the amendment and saved the appearance of party-government unity. Diefenbaker had – momentarily – held off the storm.150
Harkness now believed that Diefenbaker intended “to back away from a nuclear position and the whole defence policy we had followed for the previous four to five years.” He told four ministerial colleagues that he would resign unless the cabinet adopted a policy he could accept. At the annual meeting he faced awkward questions about Diefenbaker’s leadership, but as a member of cabinet he felt bound not to comment. When Senator Thorvaldson, the retiring party president, praised Diefenbaker in his banquet speech and then told Harkness “in the most vehement terms” that “we must get rid of Diefenbaker or we had no chance, and … the cabinet must accomplish this,” Harkness saw the irony. “This typified, I thought, the situation of a lot of Conservatives, then and later, who wanted to get rid of Diefenbaker, but wanted someone else to bell the cat.”151
Cabinet had entered a period of terminal breakdown. On Sunday, January 20, as ministers met at Sussex Drive to prepare for the opening of the House, Harkness insisted that the drift would have to end. He called for agreement on “a defensible position,” while Diefenbaker argued in favour of “no definite policy” until after an election. Ministers divided three ways: a few supporting Diefenbaker, more supporting Harkness, the rest remaining neutral and silent. Harkness eventually said that he would resign if Diefenbaker took the line of delay, but was persuaded to wait for two days, when the affair “was to be finally settled.”152
The next day, after his House of Commons statement on the Nassau conference, Diefenbaker agreed to a general foreign policy debate later in the week, with a supply motion to follow in the days afterwards. At cabinet on January 22, Diefenbaker lectured on his difficulties and pleaded that Harkness’s resignation would be “politically fatal.” He promised to re
sign rather than allow that to happen, and proposed a cabinet committee consisting of Green and Harkness, under Fleming’s chairmanship, to review the record on nuclear weapons and to find an acceptable solution. Without consultation, Fleming added Churchill to the team. Over two days the committee held ten meetings, reviewing all the relevant documents from cabinet, the cabinet defence committee, the NATO council, and the United States-Canada ministerial committee on defence. Faced with the voluminous record, Green conceded that commitments had been made and cabinet had repeatedly approved the adoption of nuclear weapons. Harkness, too, gave up some ground. Fleming produced a unanimous report calling for early completion of negotiations on Canada’s nuclear role in NORAD “to secure the highest degree of availability to Canada,” while allowing for clarification of Canada’s NATO weapons at the ministerial meetings in May. That concession would avoid embarrassment to the prime minister for his previous references to NATO policy. Given the distance between Harkness and Green, this was a formidable achievement.153
When Fleming and Harkness presented the unanimous report to Diefenbaker on Wednesday evening, the Chief greeted them in a truculent mood. Fleming gave Diefenbaker a copy of the document and waited for his praise.
Instead, after quickly glancing over it he angrily flung it down on the desk and said, “I won’t have it.” He repeated the words. There was nothing more for Doug and me to do than to say good night and leave. Outside he and I concluded it was all over … Our work had been rejected in the most offensive and peremptory manner. The last visible chance of rescuing the government on the issue of nuclear arms was gone, hopelessly squandered. I went home in despair. Dief had demonstrated that he was still capable of making decisions – wrong ones. But I had reckoned without his cunning.154
