Prime ministers and public administration.
Dutil, Patrice
"This morning I got a panicky message from Ottawa"
--Allan Gotlieb (p. 423)
Memoirs 1939-1993. By BRIAN MULRONEY. Toronto: McClelland and
Stewart. 2007. Pp. xi, 1121, bibliographical references, index.
My Years as Prime Minister. By JEAN CHRETIEN. Toronto: Albert Knopf
Canada. 2007. Pp. 435, index.
The Unexpected War: Canada in Kandahar. By JANICE STEIN and EUGENE
LANG. Toronto: Viking Canada. 2007. Pp. xv, 348, index.
The Way it Works: Inside Ottawa. By EDDIE GOLDENBERG. Toronto:
McClelland and Stewart. 2007. Paperback edition. Pp. 402, index.
Washington Diaries 1981-1989. By ALLAN GOTLIEB. Toronto: McClelland
and Stewart. 2007. Paperback edition. Pp. 647, index.
Canada's eighteenth and twentieth prime ministers published
their memoirs within weeks of each other in the early fall of 2007. For
Brian Mulroney, this is a literary first, delivered almost fifteen years
after his departure from office. For Jean Chretien, it is the sequel to
his 1985 memoirs Straight from the Heart (Toronto: Key Porter Books) and
so focuses mostly on his prime ministership. Both books prove to be
highly readable for various reasons, bur must be evaluated within the
standards of autobiography rather than scholarship. They are necessarily
subjective and self-serving, and researchers looking for grand
revelations in these pages will be disappointed. Students of public
administration looking for insights and impressions on how the
modernizations of the federal public service were perceived and
understood will find some reward, however, especially when these memoirs
are placed in the already growing literature on those twenty years of
mie. The newly released paperback editions of Goldenberg and
Gotlieb--two proven bestsellers--as well as Stein and Lang's
examination of the central issues in Canadian foreign policy since 9/11,
offer opportunities to compare insights into how these two fin de siecle prime ministers viewed and worked with public administrators.
Brian Mulroney and Jean Chretien have a great deal in common, yet
their memoirs show how they are very different men. They were born
within five years of each other in modest Quebec families, far from
economic, political or cultural power centres, and both graduated in law
from Laval University. Both set modern political records of sorts. Brian
Mulroney won the greatest number of seats, in 1984, and was the first
"Conservative" to win clean back-to-back majorities since
Macdonald. Jean Chretien won three majorities in a row: something no one
had done since Mackenzie King. Finally, both men changed the policy of
their parties in at least one fundamental way. Brian Mulroney turned his
back on the old protectionism of his party and fully embraced free trade
with the United States. Jean Chretien turned his back on the Liberal
idea of "big" government and rolled back government
involvement in the economy by slashing programs, cutting jobs, and
reducing transfers.
But the similarities end there. Chretien married young and pursued
a political career in the Liberal Party as soon as the opportunity
presented itself. He was an MP before Mulroney finished his studies. The
latter chose an altogether different route, first pursuing his career as
a lawyer in Montreal, then as an executive at Iron Ore Canada. When
Mulroney was finally elected to the House of Commons, Chretien was a
twenty-year veteran and had been a minister of the Crown for sixteen.
Yet, Mulroney became prime minister at the age of forty-five; Chretien
was almost sixty. The enormous gap in personal style and experience
would play a great role in how each man would approach the job of prime
minister. Mulroney, like most Progressive Conservatives, came to
government with a deep suspicion of the bureaucracy but learned to work
with it and indeed depend on it. Chretien assumed the prime ministership
well aware of the limitations of the public service and, if anything,
grew to depend on it less and less.
The different approaches to power colour their accounts.
Mulroney's memoirs have an air of discovery about them; they are
remarkably well written and surprisingly engaging. The book combines
reflections on his personal and political past with a rich dose of
material culled from both private and published sources. Mulroney made
effective use of an excellent researcher in Arthur Milnes, a reporter at
the Kingston Whig-Standard, who dedicated years of work to this book.
Milnes mined the prime ministerial papers and scoured the published
records of people Mulroney encountered to bring certain realities to
light or to confirm suspicions and impressions. (The book features six
pages of a "select bibliography," as well as a comprehensive
index.) Mulroney inevitably deploys some of his legendary charm in his
writing as he invites the reader to share some briefing notes, speaking
points, and personal memos he wrote on certain occasions (though he
indicates he kept no systematic diary). Readers are thus in the debt of
two hard-working individuals who have produced what are, in this
reviewer's opinion, the best memoir of any Canadian prime minister
and one of the best in the Canadian genre.
Jean Chretien chose a different strategy to compose his book. As
with Straight from the Heart, he used a process of dialogue with Toronto
writer Ron Graham. The Chretien voice is unmistakable: the certitude,
the laser-beam focus on what is priority, the cheesy romanticism. While
this may work in politics, it is less successful as a literary device.
The shortcuts in the logic and the paucity of detail give the book an
almost technical veneer. The elegant Graham style is there also,
particularly when Chretien finds himself on the defensive.
Readers familiar with biographies of Mulroney (1) will not be
surprised by the content of the first part of the book. It covers the
years from his childhood, to his bold entrance in national politics in
1976, when he presented himself as candidate for the leadership of the
Progressive Conservative Party. Few people had then heard of the
thirty-seven-year-old lawyer from Montreal, but a few details emerge in
a different light that would explain his sudden and easy rise to
prominence. Mulroney was born a political animal and found inspiration
in the "strong men" that dominated politics when he grew up:
Maurice Duplessis and John Diefenbaker, and there are traces of both the
politics and ideas of these men in Mulroney's approach to governing
in the 1980s. From Duplessis, Mulroney inherited a certain idea of
Quebec's place in Confederation as a strong partner but with a
freedom to manoeuvre to protect vital cultural interests. From
Diefenbaker, Mulroney drew on a number of traits, including affection
for things northern (eventually leading to the Nunavut agreement) and an
approach to international affairs that emphasized strong ties to the
United Kingdom and openness to the developing world. On the United
States, it has to be said, Mulroney parted company with the old chief.
His memoirs give no clear idea as to why he chose the Progressive
Conservative Party as his political home--it was simply the place where
he had the most chums. It was as a student at St. Francis Xavier University in Nova Scotia in the late 1950s that Mulroney made the
friends and contacts who would eventually carry him to power twenty
years later. Mulroney's account bears witness to the great pleasure
he had in cultivating friendships, associations and partnerships. That
ability--matched surely in the prime ministerial league only by John A.
Macdonald and Wilfrid Laurier--would shape his approach to politics and
policy-making. (It also got him into a lot of trouble, but readers will
find no mention of Airbus, shady characters or illegitimate business in
this book.)
The Liberals did make overtures a few times, but Mulroney declined
without hesitation. From his earliest days, he was anti-Liberal. He had
some sympathies for the Pearson Liberals but found the Trudeau projects
to be ruinous to Canada, teeming with lost opportunities and woefully incomplete. He uses his memoirs to get a lot of things off his chest
about the Left and the media, but the bitterness is inescapable when he
turns to the politics of the Liberal Party. Pierre Trudeau, the members
of the Liberal "rat-pack," who hounded him mercilessly through
his first term, and both Chretien and Martin (who, he argues repeatedly,
both benefited the most from his policy and program initiatives) come in
for regular beatings.
Mulroney's memoirs allege that nothing came to him without
hard work and pluck. He was indeed creative in his liaisons, worked long
and inflexible hours to overcome hardships, and evidently proved
sensitive to those around him. The qualities that endeared him to
friends and business associates, however, also made him hypersensitive to slights. Countless are those who are singled out for their perceived
hypocrisies, and some public servants do not escape his wrath. One
official--and future lieutenant-governor of Ontario--unexpectedly makes
an appearance: "Just before we arrived in South Africa,
Canada's high commissioner in Pretoria was astonished to receive
instructions from Ottawa that he was to provide Mila and me with no
assistance as we went about arranging with our friend Nelson
Mandela," he writes in a rare mention of his life after 1993.
"That instruction came from James Bartleman, foreign advisor to
Jean Chretien. We met with Mandela anyway" (p. 882).
Mulroney came to power with few ideas but the intention of slashing
political patronage and cutting down the bureaucracy, or, as he
proclaimed on the campaign trail, to "give pink slips and running
shoes." He failed spectacularly in the first task, and his
government suffered numerous setbacks with its over-secretive approach
to appointments and lobbying. He did cut down on the bureaucracy,
notably by privatizing dozens of government corporations. He appears in
these memoirs to take his time in making decisions and, at some moments,
to be gullible and a bit naive in relying on characters who did not
deserve his support. Mulroney in fact learned an important lesson within
two years of attaining power: many of his political friends were causing
him endless headaches (he consistently shuffied his cabinet to try to
get the right mix), and his own administrative deficiencies needed the
experience of capable, non-partisan hands. In an interesting chapter,
entitled "Clearing the Decks," he recounts his recognition, in
late 1985, that the PMO was not working properly. He turned for advice
and found that the best people he could find were in the public service.
"I don't need a strategist," he said to Derek Burney, a
career official, (2) "but I need someone to organize my office. I
want to focus my time on major issues like free trade and tax reform,
not tainted tuna. You know those major issues and you can help" (p.
505).
Chretien does establish some of the more important differences
between his approach to the job and Mulroney's. "A great deal
of my success," he writes, "was due to the fact that I
deliberately chose to undersell and outperform rather than oversell and
underperform" (p. 16). Mulroney tended to do the opposite as he
trumpeted bold objectives and often fell short.
Both prime ministers include very interesting chapters on their
daily routines that inevitably reveal much about their outlooks and
practices. Chretien rose early and exercised every morning. Mulroney
would rise at 6:30 and go through the papers--he never exercised. He
would see the kids off to school and then call the clerk of the Privy
Council (in order, Gordon Osbaldeston, Paul Tellier, Glen Shortliffe)
and the chief of staff. He would then receive a guest--foreign visitors,
cabinet ministers, party officials or friends--for a working breakfast
(the 1980s, it will be recalled, was the decade of the "power
breakfast").
Chretien, after a quick breakfast, headed to the suite of offices
on the third floor of the Centre Block on Parliament Hill. (Unlike
Mulroney and Trudeau, Chretien shunned the Langevin block). From 9:30 to
10:00, he would meet with his chief of staff Jean Pelletier and the
clerk (in order, Glen Shortliffe, Jocelyne Bourgon, Mel Cappe, Alex
Himelfarb). Mulroney also left 24 Sussex in time to arrive at the office
by 9:00. He would meet again with the clerk and the chief of staff to
preview the day.
For both men, Tuesday mornings were reserved for cabinet. On
typical days, Mulroney would repair to lunch at 24 Sussex, again with
the clerk, the chief of staff or parliamentary colleagues, to discuss
policy questions, political problems, forthcoming travels. He would
shave again, change shirts, and get ready for Question Period "full
of feigned outrage and unrequited indignation in both official languages
... there were moments of genuine detailed passion, real importance,
even danger during these sessions and these moments I treated with
genuine concern. The rest was showtime" (p. 999).
Chretien's Mondays, Thursdays and Fridays were filled with
meetings with ministers, advisers, officials and staff. He writes that
he preferred to deal with "problems" immediately and liked to
deal with people face-to-face. He would return to 24 Sussex for lunch
and was back in the office at 1:30 to meet the team that readied him for
Question Period. He entered the house for the 2:15 show. "I enjoyed
Question Period too much and loved the challenge it provided," he
writes. "Far from being a dreaded burden, it had become an exciting
part of my life" (p. 106). He returned to the office at 3:00 to
finish the day with the usual round of meetings, including with
MPs--mostly opposition members--who wanted to discuss issues. At 6:00,
he would come back to 24 Sussex, have a "quiet dinner," and,
after receiving another delivery of homework at 8:00, he would work two
more hours reading briefing papers, listening to some Bach or Chopin.
The day would finish off reading a history or biography on an American
or European subject--"anything to do with Canada seemed too close
to my job to be relaxing" (p. 122). He was in bed by 11:00, making
a point of never reading a newspaper or watching the evening news.
Mulroney's day ended differently in that it was filled with
meetings, featured music from the likes of Yves Montand, watching the
evening news, and a final nightcap call to the clerk.
Wednesday was caucus day: "the most important day on my
calendar," writes Mulroney (p. 998). On Wednesdays, he would
actually start the day with breakfast with a few backbenchers at 24
Sussex and then would meet with the entire caucus until 1:00. Chretien
is less exuberant and a bit condescending: "The MPs felt good
knowing they could make their pitch directly to the prime minister and
maybe boast back home that they had changed the course of Canadian
history" (p. 36). He saw it as an opportunity "to remind
caucus members that they couldn't always get what they wanted or
that a certain minister had acted in accordance with government
policy" (p. 37).
On political-administrative matters, the two prime ministers again
differ. Chretien is quick to underscore the help he received from his
staff--Gerard Pelletier, Eddie Goldenberg, Chaviva Hosek, Peter Donolo,
Patrick Parisot, Jean Carle, and many others. They were Chretien's
inner sanctum and he met with them regularly. He consulted with
Pelletier on a daily basis and with Goldenberg at any time of the day,
it seems. "Everyone was influential," he writes, "because
everyone was good--anyone who wasn't good didn't stay
long" (p. 20). It is interesting that he only mentions in passing
the four clerks of the Privy Council who served under him. Reflecting on
his reliance on a very strong cast of operatives in the PMO, he writes
that "crises and confrontations were to be avoided or downplayed
rather than manufactured or blown out of proportion. I had no interest
in creating any more problems than we already faced simply to set myself
up as the messiah who was going to solve them. But if there were
problems that had to be tackled, I was ready to roll up my sleeves and
get at them" (p. 16).
Mulroney is lavish in his praise of public servants, and many are
named, from Derek Burney to the various government photographers who
documented his public life. "Canada has an excellent public
service, and my government was well served by them at all times,"
he writes (p. 426). But there were limitations. Mulroney relied on the
bureaucracy to execute policy, not to generate it. He often disagreed
with it, particularly when it came to foreign policy. When he suspended
aid to the Soviet Union in light of the attempted coup on Gorbachev, he
writes that he "dispensed with the advice of the ever-cautious
bureaucracy who had warned me that Canada should be prepared to work
with whoever was in power in Moscow" (p. 873). He was not the first
prime minister to have a high regard for some individuals in Foreign
Affairs, * but, with little time for its general advice, he was also not
the last. Trudeau was singularly non-plussed by the advice emanating
from Foreign. Chretien gives it little attention in his memoir, and,
judging from the Stein-Lang volume on Canada in Afghanistan, neither did
Paul Martin.
Allan Gotlieb, a career Foreign Affairs official when he was
noticed by Pierre Trudeau in the 1960s, brings his own astute
perspective in Washington Diaries 1981-1989 on the Department of Foreign
Affairs and how things generally worked in Ottawa during his stay in
Washington as Canada's ambassador in the 1980s. His rich
chronicle--his service straddling the Trudeau and Mulroney
governments--offers tantalizing snapshots of Washington salons, the
workings of the embassy, and of his most memorable personal and
professional friends. He writes that Charles Ritchie, an icon of the
Canadian diplomatic corps, urged him to keep a diary from the beginning.
Gotlieb had already published a short account of his years as
ambassador, but this book stands proudly in the same league as
Ritchie's own delectable and insight-loaded logs. (3)
Gotlieb's memoirs are important for Canadians, and I suspect
will eventually be for Americans also. For students of public
administration, they are a treasure-trove of insights into the doubts
and confidences of prime ministers, the policy process, the in-fighting,
secretaries to cabinet, political insiders and cozily headquartered
bureaucrats. Gotlieb retells his life at a critical juncture in
Canadian-American relations, when decisions on defence, the Soviet
Union, the cold war, free trade, and environmental issues were debated,
made, unmade and then re-made. He offers a valuable guide to the
nuts-and-bolts of networking in the American capital (the book's
index is a veritable Rolodex of opinion-makers) as he hosts endless
receptions, attends many more, buttonholes opinion leaders, and cajoles
Ottawa into seeing the wisdom of his approach. While his admiration for
Trudeau is not diminished by his experience in the U.S. capital, Gotlieb
does not hesitate to condemn Ottawa's approach to Washington and
the prime minister's personal pursuits in foreign affairs:
"[H]e stayed too long. His economic policies looked backward, not
forward. He had fallen in love with his own image as a peacemaker. He
had become a tiers-mondiste. And a Soviet apologist. He left us united
but weak and full of false beliefs about ourselves" (p. 221).
Gotlieb (and everybody else) expected that Mulroney would have him
replaced quickly, given his strong personal ties to Trudeau, but he soon
discovered that he was wrong. Gotlieb had already seen many qualities in
Mulroney while the latter was leader of the Opposition and evidently
enjoyed working with him through the following four years. Like the
prime minister, he often betrays nothing less than acute anger at the
recommendations coming out of Foreign Affairs. Gotlieb presents a prime
minister who is fully engaged in policy and administrative matters and
entirely committed to the personal diplomacy required of him in
international affairs. Mulroney was eager to dissipate the confusions
and suspicions that fogged Canadian-American relations and was convinced
that this could only be realized by engaging the Reagan administration
through a combination of personal connections with the American
president and an aggressive approach to the presidential entourage.
Mulroney played his part very well, developing as good a connection as
possible with a man thirty years his senior and with whom he had
absolutely nothing in common. Cynics have called it simple pandering. In
Gotlieb's hands, the Canadian demarche is structured and focused.
For sure, it is not without its bumps, scrapes, bruises and
embarrassments, but the frustrations are evened out by consistent
success in meeting Canadian interests, both with the Reagan and then
with the George H.W. Bush administrations.
The respect is returned by Mulroney in his own memoirs. In fact,
Mulroney reserves his highest compliments for the ranks of the senior
bureaucracy. Beyond Burney and Gotlieb, he awards particular praise to
many, but the most to Paul Tellier (clerk of the Privy Council from
1985-91) as "superb" and as "an advisor who had been part
of every major decision my government had taken" (p. 911). It is
telling that in his listing of compliments he received upon leaving
office, Mulroney cites with particular warmth Gordon Osbaldeston's
congratulations: "Those were just the words a retired prime
minister needed to hear" (p. 1014).
Mulroney was declared the most accomplished prime minister (after
Pearson) in 2003 by the Institute for Research in Public Policy. (4)
Unfortunately, he does not explain much about the many administrative
decisions that made the accomplishments possible. The difficult
decisions that allowed the government to balance its operating budgets
by squeezing departments and agencies are not recounted. The various
privatizations, for instance, of twenty federally owned enterprises
(starting with Northern Transportation and ending with Telesat Canada,
but including Canadair, Air Canada--and much of the groundwork for
privatizing CNR in 1995) are not mentioned, nor the new approaches (and
deep frustrations) that beset the budgeting process. The efforts to give
public servants "pink slips and running shoes" are not
related. The policy process surrounding the introduction of the Goods
and Services Tax (GST) is glossed over. The broad ambitions of Public
Service 2000, the creation of Nunavut, the important decisions on the
environment (to the point where Environment Canada was poised to become
a de facto central agency in the late 1980s) are ignored. The revealing
(for students of public service, anyway) Al-mashat story is not
chronicled. If Mulroney was searching for a new bureaucracy, to borrow
Donald Savoie's phrase, (5) there is not much hint of it here. No
matter. The book is still filled with interesting insights on
political-bureaucratic relations and well worth the read for its
re-telling of key diplomatic moments, historic electoral campaigns, and,
of course, the Meech Lake and Charlottetown constitutional adventures.
While cabinet affairs receive remarkably little attention in
Mulroney's book, they are more of a going concern for Chretien. It
has been almost a decade since Donald Savoie's Governing from the
Centre (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1999) dissected the nature
of power in Ottawa and concluded that the decision- and policy-making
apparatus in the federal government had entered a phase of unprecedented
hyper-centralization. (6) It is interesting that both Chretien and
Goldenberg single out this argument and respond that Canada's
government was not particularly centralized in the 1990s and early
2000s. "Contrary to the myth of the prime minister as
dictator--friendly or otherwise--I saw myself as the head of a team of
ministers charged with the management of their own departments,"
Chretien writes.
I had no intention of breathing down their necks, looking over
their shoulders, or interfering with their officials as long as
everything was functioning smoothly, nor did I expect them to come
running to me with every little problem. I gave strict instruction to my
PMO staff that it was their role to coordinate the work of the
departments, not to tell the ministers what to do. My job was to act
like the orchestra conductor, not the pianist or the drummer, and
because I insisted on being given time between meetings for reflection
and strategy, I found most days surprisingly less strenuous than when I
had been responsible to someone else for the day-to-day operations of a
large ministry--until, of course, a crisis hit or the really tough
decisions landed on my desk" (p. 33).
On Chretien's management of cabinet, Goldenberg sheds more
light: Chretien was "comfortable knowing that Cabinet decisions are
the sole prerogative of the prime minister; there are no votes taken in
Cabinet, and decisions aren't dependent on the number of ministers
who have spoken on one side of an issue or another. As soon as
discussion ended on an issue, he usually called his decision and moved
onto the next item" (p. 99).
Nevertheless, Chretien concedes to the centralization argument in
one particular, but telling, way: "Certainly, no other PMO had ever
been as consistently involved in the budget-making process as mine"
(p. 58). This is a reality Eddie Goldenberg describes at length in The
Way it Works. Indeed, Chretien reveals himself as impatient (far more
than Mulroney) in putting financial affairs in order by cutting
expenses. In describing his government's second budget (1995),
which slashed transfers to provinces and pooled the federal transfers
for health, education, and welfare into one block grant, the Canada
Health and Social Transfer (CHST), he notes that he "wasn't
completely happy with the one-year delay, but Paul Martin had promised
it to the provincial governments in order to give them time to adjust to
the new levels and maybe past their next elections.... [W]e cut our own
program spending deeper than we had cut our transfers to the
provinces" (p. 274).
Chretien, like Mulroney, paints a picture of his administration as
one coping with particularly bad inheritances. "Canada was in
terrible shape," he writes, "exhausted, demoralized, and
fractured" (p. 3). He points to the bloated deficits of the federal
and provincial governments and unemployment at over eleven per cent as
being, in his rather original interpretation, the product of a
"made in Canada" recession created by "ideological
monetary policy" and "a failure to help Canadian industry
adapt to the new realities of free trade, financial globalization and
rapidly changing technology" (p. 4). He describes the Mulroney
legacy as "a mess" (p. 43): even 24 Sussex is characterized as
a wreck (p. 29). Notwithstanding these pressing issues (they are never
again mentioned), the Chretien program was quickly established on
addressing three priorities: reducing the "horrendous
deficit," re-asserting Canada's independence vis-a-vis the
United States ("protect Canada from being seen as the fifty-first
state of the United States"), and, in the face of the separatist
threat in Quebec and the sense of alienation in other parts of the
country, to keep Canada united (p. 42). Chretien did this, he argues, by
restoring optimism: "Instead of visions, I preferred to talk about
values--Canadian values, Liberal values, personal values" (p. 44).
In a rare moment of self-doubt, he writes that Mulroney "might
have survived to fight and win a third term [against Chretien]" (p.
4). Chretien shows all too well that while his style of governing was
dramatically different from Mulroney's, he retained almost intact
the policies and machinery that the Progressive Conservative government
had bequeathed. The GST was retained, the Free Trade Agreement was
honoured, as was NAFTA. The massive departmental reorganization that was
conceived in the last Mulroney years and finally installed in the short
Campbell interregnum was left untouched. What Chretien did notably alter
was the approach to Environment Canada, returning it to the ranks of
ordinary line department. It, like all aspects of government, was
subjected to the same draconian cutbacks triggered by the Program Review
of 1994-95. Chretien devotes a chapter to the year when both serious
budget-cutting and the Program Review Committee, led by Marcel Masse,
were working through the system, but Goldenberg's description of
the mechanics is far superior.
Chretien was the happy heir of another Mulroney legacy: a fractured
House of Commons. The 1993 election changed it dramatically by
installing the Bloc quebecois under Lucien Bouchard as the Official
Opposition, joined by a vigorous Reform Party, under Preston Manning, a
listless NDP, and a PC caucus decimated to two seats. Chretien could
poke fun at his predecessor for the election outcome but the opposition
played in his hands: the Bloc pressing for little of significance except
constitutional change, while Reform shouted its demands that the
government cut its budgets even more. The presence of the Reform Party
in opposition allowed the Liberals the space necessary to cut budgets in
a manner that Mulroney could only have dreamed of but for which he gets
no credit. Chretien, in fact, has little time for the opposition.
Bouchard is never mentioned, and Manning is dismissed: "Preston was
too much of a preacher's son for my taste. Like many of the
holier-than-thou people who like to lecture others about their high
moral standards he was also a bit of a hypocrite" (p. 205).
Chretien crushed his opposition easily in three general elections.
Chretien's memoirs reveal a man proud of his work. When he
retired in December 2003, Canada was prospering, with a record of six
consecutive surplus budgets (a seventh was on the way) and unemployment
around the seven-per-cent mark. The Bloc quebecois still sat in the
house, the NDP was still without direction, but, after a fifteen-year
struggle, the Conservative Party of Canada had unified the right.
"How did this remarkable turnaround happen? What critical decisions
or mistakes did we make along the way? Why not choose one solution
rather than another?" Chretien asks (p. 5). Unfortunately, he does
not provide many answers. Readers are referred at the beginning to James
Bartleman's Rollercoaster: My Hectic Years as Jean Chretien's
Diplomatic Advisor, 1994-1998 (Toronto: McClelland and Steward, 2005)
and Goldenberg's The Way it Works for an account of critical
decisions, and this is revealing of his approach to governing. Chretien
writes that prime ministers "must not get bogged down in the
details of government or try to micromanage the business of the nation.
Rather, it is their job to establish priorities, develop strategies,
supervise crises, handle the toughest problems, communicate the
complicated issues in simple ways, and delegate as much as possible to
their ministers" (p. 7).
In The Way it Works, Goldenberg wrote a singularly important book
because he occupied an unprecedented position in the history of Canadian
government. For thirty years, he was to Chretien what Mark Hanna was to
President McKinley and Col. Edward House was to President Wilson. There
are no equivalents elsewhere in the Canadian pageant. Part consigliere,
part enforcer, part policy entrepreneur, part court jester who speaks
hard truths with a smile, Goldenberg does not explain the Chretien
success story but describes it remarkably well. His chapters on the
transition to power, the budgetary process, Program Review,
cabinet-making, and the structures of the PMO and the government of
Canada's pursuit of post-secondary policies are important for their
details. Seven chapters are dedicated to the Quebec question, and five
examine aspects of foreign policy, mostly in dealing with the U.S. in
the context of 9/11, Iraq and Afghanistan. Where the book is
disappointingly inept is in describing Chretien the man. Often
caricatured in English Canada as a "bully" and in Quebec as a
half-wit, Chretien displayed remarkable human qualities and weaknesses,
but his personality is nowhere described.
In his own memoirs, Chretien comes across as remarkably loyal,
modest and patient. He is undeniably very intelligent, straightforward
and blunt. Like Mulroney (and perhaps like all our prime ministers), he
was a worrier and sometimes reveals himself to be cynical and
self-righteous. He could also be petty. On Eddie Goldenberg he writes:
"Eddie was accurate about 90 percent of the time, because of all
the years he had spent working at my side. I liked to tease him that the
other 10 percent occurred only when he was pursuing an agenda of his
own" (p. 34).
Chretien was, unlike Mulroney, wise to the ways of Ottawa and knew
what to expect. "A prime minister has little room for
friendship," he writes (p. 20). The importance of experience is
particularly revealed when discussing the creation of his cabinet,
something Mulroney hardly mentions at all. "Building a Cabinet is
perhaps the most private and personal duty a prime minister has to
perform," he remembers. Chretien applied a number of tests to
potential candidates, one of which being "how they're
perceived by the bureaucrats and the press" (p. 23). It is telling
that he lumps them together. He devotes five pages to the very political
considerations necessary in building a cabinet, concedes to engaging
"in a lot of bargaining" (p. 27), and maintains that
ideological balance was not a particular concern. Goldenberg, in
contrast, points out that Chretien was very serious in striking an
ideological balance in his cabinet (p. 64).
Administrative connoisseurship was clearly not a priority according
to these memoirs, but it would be a mistake not to read its importance
between the lines. Chretien, in fact, looked for very effective
administrators for his cabinet. Taking pride in his own administrative
prowess in his many ministries, Chretien valued competence far more than
political clout and kept ministers in place as long as he could, and
sometimes longer than he should. He writes, "If you make a mistake
in administration, it will hurt you politically; and if you make a
mistake politically, it will hurt your ability to govern with the
support of the people. The two have to mesh if you want to do what is
right as well as what is possible" (p. 37). Chretien took the same
disciplined approach to cabinet meetings: "There weren't to be
any more of Trudeau's six-hour marathons, which used to waste
everyone's valuable time and leave us totally exhausted. My cabinet
meetings weren't graduate seminars or discussion groups; they were
a place to make decisions" (p. 32). Cabinet meetings started at
10:00 on Tuesday mornings and wrapped up two hours later. Not counting
Treasury Board, Chretien reduced to two--economic policy and social
policy - the number of permanent cabinet committees, from more than a
dozen. Ad hoc committees were established only on indisputably pressing
issues. For example, one was created in the wake of 9/11 on border
security and Canada-U.S. border issues.
Chretien appreciated the public service. He notes that Glenn
Shortliffe, the last clerk of the Privy Council to serve under Mulroney,
immediately submitted his resignation, but Chretien did not accept it.
He even addresses the Gomery recommendation that the clerk of the Privy
Council no longer be both the PM's chief bureaucratic adviser and
the head of the public service: "IT]he result," he curtly
summarizes, "would be that the elected government would not be in
charge of running anything" (p. 39). He wanted his ministers to
become "allies" of the deputy ministers, which is again an
interesting turn of phrase (p. 37). It was partly to restore that
confidence that he cut down the allowance ministers had been given
during the Mulroney years to build up their staffs. He does not mention
the massive lay-offs and early retirements triggered by the cutbacks of
the mid-1990s--initiatives that changed the face of the public service,
caused severe demoralization, and, as some would argue, resulted in a
dramatic loss of policy capacity and program execution.
In matters of substantive policy, what is striking in both volumes
is the attention devoted to international affairs. Reading these two
prime ministers would leave one believing that Canada played a mighty
and significant role in global affairs. Not surprisingly, it is a file
into which the prime minister can freely inject much of his personality
and interests and where liaisons with foreign heads of state make this
an imperative. No less than a third of Mulroney's pages are
dedicated to his international work. (7) Although much of his attention
was devoted to Canada's relations with the U.S., his book is filled
with international figures, ranging from Benazir Bhutto, twice
Pakistan's prime minister (and for whom Mulroney seemed to have a
high regard) to Zhao Ziyang, China's premier and general secretary
of the Communist Party. He takes great pains to explain his approach to
Canada-U.S.S.R. relations as well as Canada's rapport with the U.K.
and with France. Chretien also devotes at least a quarter of his book to
the topic, but mostly around Iraq and Afghanistan issues. Mulroney held
it as a point of principle that Canada-U.S. relations should not appear
to be more than business-like and has precious little to say about other
burning issues. Chretien's perception of the United States reveals
the trademark smugness of a number of people in his entourage:
"Like it or not, everybody recognizes the strength of the United
Sates and the appeal of the American Dream. At the same time, everybody
recognizes the brashness and insulation that are weaknesses in that
superiority, and the poverty, racism, and inequality that are hidden
behind its enormous wealth" (p. 332). Paul Martin would try to
reverse this mindset. He created a cabinet committee on Canada-U.S.
relations, for instance, and made plans to bolster the Canadian presence
in Washington.
Jean Chretien takes delight in personalizing the government of
Canada's approach on Afghanistan in his memoirs and uses the
opportunity to embarrass his successor Paul Martin. "In January
2003, while responsibility for ISAF [the International Security
Assistance Force, based in Kabul] was passing from the UN to NATO, I
instructed John McCallum, the defence minister, to inform his US
counterpart, Donald Rumsfeld, that we were willing to take over from the
Germans and the Dutch at the conclusion of their term in August"
(p. 305). A few lines below, he continues: "Later, unfortunately,
when my successor took too long to make up his mind about whether Canada
should extend our term with ISAF, our soldiers were moved out of Kabul
and sent south again to battle the Taliban in the killing fields around
Kandahar" (p. 305).
The Unexpected War, by Janice Stein and Eugene Lang, takes readers
around and below the wishes of prime ministers and reveals the
convoluted policy-making process of Canada's foreign relations
under Chretien and Paul Martin. Based on unprecedented access won by
Lang's own work as a chief of staff to two Liberal ministers of
defence from 2002 and 2006 and Stein's impressive academic
credentials, this book is a marriage of two insightful
perspectives--those of the seasoned observer and the perspicacious insider. The authors interviewed dozens of key players in the fall of
2006 and the winter of 2007 and deliver a lively and informative account
of some of the most important decisions taken in Canadian foreign
policy. Theirs is mostly a story seen from the perspective of key
departmental ministers under Prime Minister Paul Martin--only a few
interviews with anonymous public servants are noted. Absent its day in
court, the bureaucracy suffers harsh judgment in this book. The shortage
of interviews with senior officials is its only notable flaw.
Their account--winner of the Shaughnessy Cohen prize for political
writing in March 2008--begins in the aftermath of 9/11, when Canada
contributes its elite military force (the Joint Task Force 2, or JTF2)
to defeating the Taliban in Afghanistan. After the fall of the Taliban
government in December 2001, Canada readily committed to a UN mission to
stabilize Kabul. A few hundred troops were sent to an area of the world
about which decision-makers (political and administrative) simply had no
knowledge. Woven through the tale of Afghanistan's place in
Canada's foreign policy from Chretien through to Martin and Harper
are the Iraq question and the search for a new definition of Canadian
foreign policy. The decision not to support the United States in
invading Iraq in 2003 is not complicated to explain: Stein and Lang, as
well as Goldenberg, show that Chretien could make the decision with
little internal consultation. Caucus and cabinet both opposed invasion
of Iraq without the sanction of the UN. Goldenberg, for his part,
describes a prime minister on the phone with international leaders
measuring the velocity of the political winds. With precious little
support on the Security Council for UN involvement in Iraq,
Chretien's decision was cast.
Instead, Stein and Lang dwell on the issue of Canada's
continued participation in Persian Gulf operations that had been
sanctioned by the United Nations previously, a position they call
"half pregnant." Canada (with its three ships) would remain in
command of the Persian Gulf task force (TF 151) but not work in support
of the American-led invasion of Iraq. The Dutch, New Zealanders and
French ordered their naval commanders not to allow their ships to
operate at the entrance to the Persian Gulf, as part of TF 151. Things
were more complicated in the case of the Canadian command, but the
hair-splitting orders were carried out, and, while Canada's job was
to protect the Gulf, Canadian forces were also instructed not to engage
with Iraqi vessels. The same kind of confusion was raised by the fact
that over a hundred Canadian officers served in the American military
during the invasion of Iraq as part of an exchange program. Canadians in
effect might be participating in the war, but Canada would have no part
of it.
Of greater import to students of public administration is the
judgment the authors make about the quality of the foreign policy
apparatus. Stein and Lang do not offer much of a thesis: they do not
contend that the Liberal government erred in making commitments in
Afghanistan but that Canada stumbled from one decision to another
without a clear perspective or policy in mind, and they are clearly
frustrated by this. The blame is widely shared, in their view. The
media's attention-span does not go beyond superficial personal
conflicts. "Canada," they write, "has a very shallow and
closed process of debate and discussion on issues of national
security" (p. 78). Parliamentarians are shown to routinely pass up
opportunities to spearhead thoughtful policy reviews.
What makes The Unexpected War so interesting is the detailed
recounting of the political in-fighting between the civilian and the
military halves of the Department of National Defence (DND) as well as
between the DND and Foreign Affairs (identified respectively as
"Mars" and "Venus"). Stein and Lang also pay
particular attention to the commanding role of the prime minister and of
his key advisers, who, more often than not, seem to focus on the wrong
priorities. As Canada ramps up its efforts in Afghanistan, for instance,
Paul Martin wants to focus on Haiti and Darfur. You can almost see the
authors roll their eyes.
In their account, Foreign Affairs seems lost and unable to focus on
priorities. In fairness, it must be acknowledged that the department was
not particularly well served by the Liberals. In his memoirs, Chretien
is especially proud of the Atlantic caper, when Canada boarded the
Spanish ships that persisted in fishing off the Grand Banks. But that
foreign policy was raised and driven by Brian Tobin as minister of
fisheries. For his part, the actual minister of foreign affairs, Lloyd
Axworthy, shared the Mulroney/ Trudeau attitude and essentially left the
department to deal with mundane issues while he and his staff worked on
priorities such as efforts in removing landmines. Axworthy was succeeded
by Bill Graham, a Toronto law professor, who is depicted by Stein and
Lang as "more conservative, more reluctant to challenge the
bureaucracy in Foreign Affairs" (p. 39). Graham fares well in their
book, but the authors note that he had finally reached the summit of his
ambitions and was "disinclined to put at risk all his hard work and
patience by alienating the professional foreign policy establishment in
Ottawa unless it was absolutely essential. He knew well how angry civil
servants could sabotage a minister" (p. 39). Pierre Pettigrew,
Graham's successor in the Paul Martin government, is simply missing
in action during the critical phases of decision-making. It was probably
intended that way: Bill Graham (who was named minister of defence) was
told by Martin's key adviser that "Paul will be his own
foreign minister" (p. 130).
Stein and Lang depict a military establishment in Ottawa that seems
disconnected from reality and is "so obsessed with its relationship
with the Pentagon that it was willing to risk its own credibility with
its political masters." They note with some surprise that
"[m]ilitary leaders tried to drive foreign policy in the direction
they wanted it to go, not normally an operative role for the military in
a democracy" (p. 90). This should not be a revelation: most
democracies have ensured that the military be accountable to a civilian
minister precisely to correct such tendencies. They are not always
successful, something Dwight Eisenhower famously noted in his parting
address as he warned against the "military industrial complex"
that pressured for an aggressive foreign policy. They even cite one
anonymous senior official as saying that "the DND gets the military
of other countries to pressure and lobby Ottawa on its behalf" (p.
90).
The foreign policy position described in the policy work around the
Ballistic Missile Defence (BMD) scheme could well have been described by
the authors as also "half pregnant." In this case, confusion
reigned. The DND wanted badly to be a part of it, while Foreign Affairs
did not. Meanwhile, the Americans waited for an answer. When President
Bush finally visited Canada at the end of November 2004, fresh from
re-election, and publicly asked that Canada support the BMD initiative,
he caught Prime Minister Martin off-guard. Stein and Lang cite observers
shocked at the "staggering inability to articulate what BMD was,
and what we were being asked." One of Martin's political
advisers stated, "We were given answers that resembled newspaper
articles.... [T]here was no policy-based argument that I could discern
other than 'if we don't do this we may piss the Americans
off'.... We've said no to Iraq already and we have to be
concerned about how far we can push the envelope" (p. 165). With no
clarity emerging from either Foreign Affairs or DND, the PCO was hardly
any better in coming up with a clear position. The embarrassment came to
a head when Frank McKenna, the ambassador-designate, freely volunteered
before a House of Commons committee that Canada was in essence a partner
in BMD. He had not been briefed by the government on the subtleties of
the position and, without knowing it, had contradicted the Martin
government.
In the result, Martin had to finally declare that Canada would not
participate in this aspect of continental defence but would of course
remain a vital part of NORAD. Naturally, the DND was "floored"
(p. 170) by the announcement. In the U.S., the news was greeted with
indifference. According to the American ambassador to Canada, "it
did no damage to Canada-U.S. relations. We just threw our hands up and
said these people don't know what they are doing" (p. 177).
Canada essentially yielded the defence of the continent to the Americans
for fear of appearing too "pro-American" by participating in
an obviously American-led ballistic missile defence scheme.
According to Stein and Lang, the BMD debacle convinced some people
at DND that something had to be done in support of the U.S. In part to
compensate for the BMD debacle, the decision was made to "go
big" with two six-month rotations in Kandahar, starting late in
2005. The cost to the Canadian purse was estimated at $1.2 billion, in
addition to a commitment to development assistance to Afghanistan,
averaging $85 million per year until 2012. It also would cost, so far,
the lives of over eighty Canadian soldiers.
Stein and Lang's explanation for the makings of the decision
focuses on the role of General Rick Hillier in steering the Canadian
policy. After 9/11, DND was in a terrible state. Beyond its mission
contortions and loss of influence on BMD, it was broke: its budget had
been chopped by a third to help eliminate the deficit in the mid-1990s,
and it continued to face the hostility of many in Ottawa, including the
deputy minister of finance, Kevin Lynch (who is listed as "an
opponent" of the department, p. 7) through the late 1990s and early
2000s. The Department of National Defence was also confused: It
apparently took the department a month to brief its new minister in 2002
on the Afghanistan situation, and its policy-making apparatus is
frequently described by Stein and Lang as "sclerotic." General
Rick Hillier, recommended by Graham to the prime minister to succeed the
retiring Ray Henault, would bring new energy to the job and use his
considerable advocacy skills to move Canadian military policy.
Hillier in fact made one of his first marks in defining foreign
policy. Upon becoming PM, Martin launched a policy review that soon
turned into a fiasco. The job of "holding the pen" was given
to Foreign Affairs, but the job was soon botched. Staff from the PMO
were brought in; even the clerk of the Privy Council was involved in
trying to "rescue" the review, but to no avail. Martin wanted
a "bold, transformative" document. By the time of the
election, in June 2004, nothing of value had been written, and four
departments--Foreign Affairs, International Trade, National Defence, and
CIDA--were now writing their own documents.
At what is surely the lowest point in their story, Stein and Lang
describe a government so hopelessly lost in defining its foreign policy
that it had to turn to an outsider: Jennifer Welsh, a Canadian teaching
at Oxford, who had just published At Home in the World: Canada's
Global Vision for the 21st Century (Toronto: HarperCollins, 2004).
Canada's foreign policy would be written by a scholar with no
institutional memory of Foreign Affairs (or the government), working
alone across the ocean. Stein and Lang portray this as evidence of yet
another failing of bureaucracy, but it seems equally clear that the
politicians (and their staffs) were hardly up to the task. The notion of
creating a cabinet committee, or caucus committee, on the issue was
evidently a non-starter. The many capable and experienced scholars in
Canada were deemed incapable.
Meanwhile, the DND, now under the command of Rick Hillier, set to
work defining Canada's foreign policy from its own unique
perspective. By the summer of 2003, Canada had committed to lead NATO in
Kabul for a year. The plan was to reduce Canada's troop strength by
ninety per cent by 2004 and then to deploy a Canadian Provincial
Reconstruction Team (PRT) somewhere in Afghanistan. By the calendar,
Canada had a year to pick a spot. Many Ottawa Foreign Affairs officials
favoured Herat. Their colleagues at the embassy in Kabul, however,
apparently preferred Kandahar, where Americans had been active since
2001--one of the most unstable and dangerous parts of the country. Rick
Hillier also wanted Kandahar. "The PRT was a classic case of
competing interests and clashing world views between the two
departments, between Venus and Mars," write Stein and Lang.
"And it was a classic case of bureaucratic dithering and bickering
over comparatively small issues, so that officials missed the bigger
picture until it was too late" (p. 134). Other countries soon chose
quieter quarters: Italians in Herat, the Dutch in Oruzgan, the
Lithuanians in Chaghcharan. Ottawa was waiting for Washington to make
decisions. Rick Hillier, for his part, adamantly campaigned for the
visibility that Kandahar could offer. Martin had no choice but to
accept. The authors are impressed: "In just a few weeks time, a
soldier from Newfoundland had outclassed and outrun the best minds in
Canada's august Department of Foreign Affairs. It was his work that
gave shape and thrust to the International Policy Statement.... Ottawa
hadn't seen anything like this in many years" (p. 157).
Stein and Lang offer a picture where policy-making is
dysfunctional, affecting the very top. They quote Paul Martin himself,
as he shakes his head over the quality of policy advice: "[O]ver 25
years, due to the combination of Michael Pitfield's centralization
initiative and my budgets, we have totally destroyed the policy-making
capacity of the public service, and nowhere is this more manifest than
in the Department of Foreign Affairs" (p. 153). The authors cite a
"senior public servant's" view that is even more
scathing: "The Department of Foreign Affairs can't do policy,
they have no policy capacity. The Department of Foreign Affairs is a
roving travel agency and property management department" (p. 153).
Stein and Lang conclude their book with the same observation.
The argument that different policy options will emerge from the
Defence establishment and the Department of Foreign Affairs is hardly
new, or indeed unique, to Canada. What makes The Unexpected War gripping
is the account of apparently poorly informed prime ministers left
vulnerable to the advice of departments who either have their own
professional agenda in mind or who are caught in a death spiral of
analysis paralysis. The end result is a personalized approach to foreign
policy that seemingly lives and dies on the penchants and interests of
prime ministers. This is precisely why their personal inclinations--as
well as those of their closest political advisers--are so important for
voters (let alone students of public service) to understand.
These books collectively reveal a great deal of how things work in
Ottawa and put to the test various theories about who "really
governs." There is no doubt that the prime minister--even one
enjoying only the support of a minority in the House of Commons--reigns
supreme. The books all hint about the importance of the bureaucracy in
ensuring execution, but its role in policy-making is a mystery. Even the
leadership of the public service--with the exception of Rick Hillier--is
relegated to little more than a transactional role in these volumes.
While Mulroney praises his clerks and seems genuinely surprised by every
good thing he encountered in the Canadian public service, Chretien is
more likely to emphasize the contribution of the staff in the Prime
Minister's Office. Perhaps Chretien had come to take the
involvement of the bureaucracy for granted, but this is not clear.
Certainly, his defence of the role of the clerk in light of Justice
Gomery's recommendations demonstrates that he was aware of his
government's reliance on a bureaucracy that had a strong and
important presence in the decision-making circles. All the same, it is
striking that in both accounts, the PCO is hardly mentioned, and the
Department of Finance gets no more ink than any other ministry. The
Department of Foreign Affairs is simply brutalized in all the books.
It took a long time for prime ministers to think that the
recollections of their time in power were worthy of publication.
Macdonald, Mackenzie and Laurier wrote nothing. Robert Borden was the
first to write memoirs, and they were published posthumously. Mackenzie
King never had the intention to write. Diefenbaker's One Canada
(Toronto: Macmillan of Canada, 1975-77) and Pearson's Mike
(Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1972-1975) proved to be good
journeyman work. Pierre Trudeau's long-awaited memoirs only served
to show that he was in no mood for reflection. The books by Chretien and
particularly Mulroney (who sets a new standard) signal a change in the
Canadian literary and political landscape that has become friendly to
thick volumes of political memoirs. They also demonstrate that there
really has not been much progress in explaining how influence is
exercised in the courts of power. The enigma of what makes for
successful governance--the special chemistry between political
operators, public-service leaders, and prime ministers--remains elusive.
In the result, scholars are left to produce armchair hypotheses, often
with no greater comfort than that bestowed when a Jean Chretien or Eddie
Goldenberg notices these enough to question their validity. There
remains a crying need for the organizational and intellectual leaders of
the public service to contribute their own explanations of how decisions
are made and implemented. In addition to Allan Gotlieb, their model
might well be the iconic Gordon Robertson, the only clerk who has
produced memoirs,s For the interim, their active participation at
organized colloquia such as IPAC conferences on leadership, will have to
do. (9) This situation must change, and until it does, it will be
difficult to assess how prime ministers really interact with their
administration.
The author is associate professor of politics and public
administration, Ryerson University. He was research director of IPAC
from 1999 to 2006.
Notes
(1) See John Sawatsky, Mulroney: The Politics of Ambition (Toronto:
McClelland and Stewart, 1991); L. Ian MacDonald, Mulroney: The Making of
the Prime Minister (Toronto: McClelland and Stewart, 1984); and Rae
Murphy, Brian Mulroney: The Boy from Baie Comeau (Toronto: Lorimer,
1984).
(2) See also Burney's own memoirs, Getting it Done: A Memoir
(Montreal and Kingston: McGill-Queen's University Press, 2005).
(3) Allan Gotlieb, I'll be with you in a minute, Mr.
Ambassador: The Education of a Canadian Diplomat in Washington (Toronto:
University of Toronto Press, 1991). See Charles Ritchie's The Siren
Years: Undiplomatic Diaries, 1937-1945 (Toronto: Macmillan, 1974);
Diplomatic Passport: More Undiplomatic Diaries, 1946-1962 (Toronto:
Macmillan, 1982); and Storm Signals: More Undiplomatic Diaries,
1962-1971 (Toronto: Macmillan, 1983).
(4) See Daniel Schwanen, "Ranking prime ministers of the last
50 years: The numbers speak," Policy Options 24, no. 6 (June/July
2003), pp. 18-20. This report was based on a survey of scholars and
experts. Pearson was ranked first, Mulroney second, followed, in order,
by Trudeau, St-Laurent, Chretien and Diefenbaker (Clark, Turner and
Campbell were not included).
(5) Donald Savoie, Thatcher, Reagan, Mulroney: In Search of a New
Bureaucracy (University of Toronto Press, 1994).
(6) See also Jeffrey Simpson, The Friendly Dictatorship (Toronto:
McClelland and Stewart, 2001).
(7) Readers may want to consult Nelson Michaud, ed., Diplomatic
Departures: The Conservative Era in Canadian Foreign Policy, 1984-93
(Vancouver: University of British Columbia Press, 2001).
(8) Gordon Robertson, Memoirs of a Very Civil Servant: Mackenzie
King to Pierre Trudeau (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2002).
(9) See Patrice Dutil, ed., Searching for Leadership: Secretaries
to Cabinet in Canada (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2008).
* The Department of External Affairs and International Trade was
renamed Foreign Affairs and International Trade in 1993. For
consistency, I have used the Foreign Affairs designation.