by Denis Smith
I went to the back of the plane, where the prime minister and Mrs Diefenbaker were sitting, and told him I had heard of his concern and assured him that reports on his meetings would not be sent to Ottawa without his approval … This immediately caused him to throw aside some papers, fix me with a very severe eye, and say: “I’ll tell you frankly. What I am worried about is that Pearson is going to find out what is in these reports 24 hours after they reach Ottawa.” I said that I simply did not believe this sort of thing was going on, but he went on at length in the same vein. When we got to London, the telegram was dispatched in slightly revised form to Ottawa and New York.76
Robinson also wrote privately to the new undersecretary, Norman Robertson, to say that “the immediate problem is that in view of the Prime Minister’s instructions, it will be difficult if not impossible to keep the Department informed on what the Prime Minister actually says in his conversations … In the longer run, the problem is, of course, worrying since it illustrates the depth of the suspicion with which the Department is regarded.” But Diefenbaker seemed to forget the incident; Robinson’s fears were groundless.77 The prime minister seemed simply to be reminding Robinson, in his particular way, about who was in charge. He might have been less polite if he had known what Robinson was reporting privately.
Diefenbaker began his seven-week odyssey in London on October 30. He was welcomed attentively by Harold Macmillan, who had been briefed for the visit by the British high commissioner in Ottawa. Diefenbaker, the high commissioner reported,
is inclined to view affairs in personal terms and he is susceptible to personal influences … there is little in the way of articulate political design in Mr. Diefenbaker’s attitude to the tour. His mind does not work that way. He tends to grope his way towards the understanding and handling of problems by drawing on personal experiences and impressions taken from all kinds of sources and he is not approaching this tour with any preconceived and detailed plans.
In essence he looks on the trip as a goodwill mission and he has no desire to get seriously involved in policy discussions. This is confirmed by the composition of his party: he is not taking a single senior adviser.78
The high commissioner said that Diefenbaker admired and respected Macmillan, who thus had “the best possible opportunity for influencing him in the right direction.” This meant encouraging Canada to take a larger role in Commonwealth affairs, warning Diefenbaker about Prime Minister Nehru’s “lack of realism” about the Soviet Union and “intractability” in dealing with Pakistan, and curbing Diefenbaker’s tendency to criticize American policy when in Asia. In general, the high commissioner wrote as an imperial father still seeking to guide his wayward colonial son. “Mr. Diefenbaker’s propensity to rush without consultation into dramatic public statements on delicate issues of policy has shown no signs of abating. It would be helpful if it could be brought home tactfully to Mr. Diefenbaker what embarrassment can be caused in this way. There is special danger that he may be led into ill-considered off-the-cuff statements at press conferences.”79
Macmillan had his own reasons for cultivating the Canadian. He knew that Diefenbaker’s rhetoric about the Commonwealth had strong popular appeal in the United Kingdom and he wanted Diefenbaker’s goodwill as he sought to turn British policy away from the Commonwealth towards Europe. Thus he praised and supported Diefenbaker’s enthusiasm for Commonwealth trade because he thought it had little substance, and he reassured the Canadian prime minister that their economic policies coincided, which they did not. For two years Macmillan succeeded in this game of artful flattery.
Before his departure from Ottawa, the prime minister posed for a Karsh portrait, deeply sober, manicured, and impeccably dressed, the image of statesmanlike seriousness of purpose. The official photograph greeted his arrival in London in poster display on the front page of the mass circulation London Illustrated News. Diefenbaker had aroused curiosity during his debut at the Commonwealth conference of 1957; now, after his great 1958 triumph, he was a fabulous creature in Britain. In six days he would make the most of it. The visit began with a daytime reception at Canada House, a private dinner with Prime Minister Macmillan, and an evening reception at 10 Downing Street. Next morning there was a long discussion with Macmillan, and courtesy visits to the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Queen Mother. Then the party departed for the weekend in Scotland, where Diefenbaker and company were guided by Roy Thomson to Kildonan in search of his Bannerman roots. They located a house where - Diefenbaker told his mother - a grandfather may have spent his childhood, but the identification was uncertain.80
Back in London on November 3, Diefenbaker had longer discussions with Macmillan, attended a Lord Mayor’s lunch at the Mansion House, and dined in the evening at the Upper Brook Street home of his high commissioner, George Drew. Next day - despite flu and a high temperature - Diefenbaker and Olive lunched with the queen and attended an afternoon reception, before the prime minister addressed a massive evening meeting of the Commonwealth and Empire Industries Association at Royal Albert Hall. As usual, his speech was shaped out of drafts from half a dozen sources, pulled together in a nervous, last-minute rush at the prime minister’s bedside.81
The result was a triumph, aimed at his chosen audience of old imperialists and Commonwealth boosters. Lord Beaverbrook’s Daily Express trumpeted Diefenbaker’s “stirring message of faith” with a banner front-page headline and seven photographs of the prime minister. “A vast audience jam-packing London’s Albert Hall, say 6,000 – 3,000 more failed to get tickets – were warmed in heart and in turn warmed the heart when Mr. John Diefenbaker, Canada’s Prime Minister, gave fire to his faith in the British Commonwealth last night.”82 Diefenbaker called on his audience to “banish doubts,” to “go forward with new enthusiasm,” and to await the Commonwealth’s “greater appointment with destiny than in all her glorious history” as its trade barriers fell still further. Commonwealth trade, he insisted, was a great weapon in the battle against communism. And he spoke his own catechism.
Over the centuries, the genius for government of Englishmen created an Empire which in this century and generation, by the exercise of wisdom and humanity, has become the most improbable, and yet most noble, association of all - a partnership of free peoples, in unity but not in political uniformity. Its ark of the covenant is the preservation of freedom…
If causes for this miracle of statesmanship are sought, what better place to look than London. Here stands the Mother of Parliaments, the creator and guardian of a political tradition based on government by consent, government by debate, government under the rule of law founded on the human person. The source of its strength is found in the symbol of Westminster Abbey standing through the centuries beside the Parliament of Westminster. The spiritual values symbolized by the Abbey have shaped and humanized British political tradition and, wherever freedom lives, in the new and living Commonwealth, free men have cause to look to Westminster in thankfulness for the past and hope for the future.83
Macmillan followed Diefenbaker to the rostrum to praise him for “a great speech from a great man” and to bask in the applause. He, too, looked forward to an election. When Macmillan claimed that Britain and Canada had always promoted free trade in the world, a voice cried out, “You believe in free trade with Europe. You are a hypocrite.” Macmillan responded, to laughter: “I thought there was a truce.” He turned to wish Diefenbaker well on his journey: “You will take with you your message and your faith. You will leave behind you the inspiration of your own enthusiasm and the memory of your buoyant personality.”84
The visit established an affectionate rapport between the two leaders that seemed genuine on both sides. Macmillan noted after their first meeting that Diefenbaker was “in a very happy and relaxed mood.”85 He trusted Diefenbaker to challenge de Gaulle’s proposal for three-power hegemony in NATO, and to probe de Gaulle’s meaning, without conveying any rebuff that might damage Britain’s interest in European trade. And he was fascina
ted to hear that Eisenhower had been angered by the suggestion that Canada might vote for the admission of Communist China to the United Nations. Diefenbaker told Macmillan that he had no intention of doing so, at least for another year. As the leaders parted, they exchanged gifts emphasizing their common Scots heritage: from Macmillan to Diefenbaker, a Macmillan family history; from Diefenbaker to Macmillan, Donald Creighton’s two-volume life of John A. Macdonald.86 As Diefenbaker moved around the world, the two exchanged frequent, careful comments on Diefenbaker’s meetings with other leaders.
In Europe, Diefenbaker proved himself in his meetings with de Gaulle and Adenauer. Even his sceptical foreign affairs adviser Basil Robinson admitted it.87 He matched them in dialectical skill, they were impressed, and their respect for him was evident. With each of them, Diefenbaker broadened his own insights about the world and gained confidence in his own abilities - as he had with Macmillan in London. He was at his best in their company. In Paris, Diefenbaker also had useful meetings with the secretary general of NATO, Paul-Henri Spaak, and the commander of NATO forces, General Lauris Norstad. Norstad briefed Diefenbaker at length on NATO military strategy, which then emphasized the introduction of tactical nuclear weapons in the first line of European defence - to which Canada had agreed in the NATO Council meeting of December 1957.88
Robinson described Diefenbaker’s meeting with Prime Minister de Gaulle as “an absorbing exchange.” De Gaulle sat opposite Diefenbaker “like a giant eagle, blinking his enigmatic eyes slowly and turning his head from side to side as if surveying some great global battlefield.” When Diefenbaker asked whether the prime minister’s recent letters to Eisenhower and Macmillan were meant to stimulate consultation in the alliance (which was acceptable to Canada) or to create an inner triumvirate (which was not), de Gaulle responded with sweeping comments on the new world balance. Now that NATO had checked any possible military threat from the Soviet Union, and the possibilities for negotiation had improved, de Gaulle believed that Anglo-American dominance of Western policy-making was no longer appropriate. He pointed out that the United States and Britain had landed troops in the Middle East during the summer without any consultation, despite France’s large interests in the region. His letters were intended to raise the issue of consultation rather than to dictate any plan. Diefenbaker supported de Gaulle’s concern for better consultation and expressed his reassurance about the general’s intentions. He asked for, and received, de Gaulle’s word that the issue would not be raised at the coming NATO council meeting, and gained de Gaulle’s permission to report this guarantee to Chancellor Adenauer and the Italian prime minister, Amintore Fanfani. On European trade and the Common Market, Diefenbaker made clear his hope that the market would be open to Canada’s agricultural trade. The meeting was followed by “a superb lunch in the best of humour,” in which de Gaulle showed “a mischievous benevolence” towards the Canadian prime minister.89
After the meeting, Robinson telephoned Downing Street on Diefenbaker’s behalf to report the prime minister’s impressions, particularly that de Gaulle had no plan for a NATO triumvirate and that he could see no bargaining link between de Gaulle’s views on NATO and his approach to Britain’s talks on European free trade. Macmillan found this bit of intelligence significant.90
From Paris the Diefenbaker party travelled by air to the RCAF fighter base at Grostenquin for a ceremonial visit that included a “simulated scramble” of aircrews and a mass takeoff of F-86 Sabre jets, visits to the base high school, hospital, recreation centre, and hockey rink, and a formal dinner and dance in the officers’ mess. Here the Diefenbakers were joined for the day by Olive’s daughter, Carolyn, and her husband, Don Weir, who were living at the nearby Canadian airbase at Metz, where Don was teaching high school.91
The European trip concluded with two days in Bonn and one day in Rome, where the prime minister continued his political discussions with Adenauer and Fanfani, and the Diefenbakers had a short audience with Pope John XXIII. In Bonn, Diefenbaker was particularly impressed by Adenauer’s staunch anti-communism, his commitment to the NATO alliance and the American presence in Europe, and his belief in German reconciliation with France. Diefenbaker agreed that American “leadership and co-operation” were essential for European freedom, and was delighted by Adenauer’s quip: “Adenauer, Eisenhower, and Diefenbaker - what a threesome!”92 No more shame about the German name.
Adenauer and de Gaulle had met for the first time only a few weeks before, and Diefenbaker felt the vibrations of that encounter: “It was one of the experiences of my life to have been present so soon after the historic meeting of de Gaulle and Adenauer and to hear from each of them, in the absence of and without the knowledge of the other, the same magnificent message, a message of peace.”93
The Diefenbakers were enchanted by their audience with the newly elected Pope John XXIII. The conversation went so well that the prime minister joked, “How does it feel to be Pope anyhow?” And the pontiff laughingly answered, “Well, here I am near the end of the road and on top of the heap.”94 Diefenbaker could delightedly share that sentiment.
From Rome, the party flew southeast to Karachi by way of Tehran, and the beginning of four weeks in Asia. In the Asian Commonwealth countries of Pakistan, India, Ceylon, and Malaya, Diefenbaker was on less certain ground than in Europe. Beyond a few stereotypes about the value of the Commonwealth, the dangers of communism, and a romantic perception derived from Kipling, he knew little of this side of the world. He was about to be showered with new - and sometimes disconcerting - impressions.95
Pakistan had been under military rule since mid-October, where the presidency had been seized by General Mohammed Ayub Khan just before Diefenbaker’s arrival; earlier, there had been doubts about coming to Karachi at all. As the military dictator’s first foreign visitor, Diefenbaker was able to offer key early judgments about the new president. He arrived in Karachi understandably “edgy and apprehensive.”96 But Diefenbaker was impressed by Ayub Khan, who struck him as an honourable soldier (he was a Sandhurst graduate with a distinctly British military manner) and a populist who “loved the common people.”97 “He is firmly in the saddle,” Diefenbaker wrote to Macmillan on November 15; “his mission was and is to keep Pakistan [from] falling into Communist hands because of divisions being created through political manoeuvring and competition. Martial law has been displaced in large measure. The President is highly regarded by the people as a whole as a Saviour of the nation. His expressed desire is to restore order and thereafter, to bring about the elective process in due course.”98 Macmillan replied, “I am sure that your visit will have done a great deal of good in confirming General Ayub in his pro-Western policies. Let us hope that he has the ability and strength to carry them out.”99 Both Western leaders were henceforth Ayub Khan’s firm supporters. From Karachi the prime minister visited Lahore, Peshawar, the Khyber Pass, and the joint Canadian-Pakistani hydroelectric project at Warsak, which had given Canadians, he later wrote, “a personal sense of identity with Pakistani efforts to build the economic and industrial strength of the country.”100 But Diefenbaker was disappointed by Pakistan’s limited awareness of Canadian aid and by its distinctly muted interest in the Commonwealth - which offered Pakistan no support in its conflict with India over Kashmir. Diefenbaker had no intention of fishing in those waters.101
Diefenbaker’s doctor had advised him to avoid fresh milk and water in Pakistan, and to be careful about eating local foods. The result, according to Robinson, was that the prime minister “merely toyed with the food served at the inevitable banquets,” grew weak and gaunt, and had to cancel one afternoon’s engagements. He revived, however, to receive an honorary degree at the University of Punjab in Lahore, “an occasion to which he rose with eloquence.” At another reception that day, Elmer made the homely comparison to one of his hosts that Pakistani military hospitality was “just like the Shriners back home.” By the end of the visit Robinson noted that the prime minister “was jaunty again, the chuck
le had returned, and those piercing eyes were alight with enjoyment and anticipation.”102
In India, Diefenbaker faced a week of incessant activity: several conversations with Prime Minister Nehru, banquets, receptions, speeches to parliament and the University of Delhi (and another honorary degree), even a daylong, exciting, but happily fruitless tiger hunt with the Maharajah of Kotah. Diefenbaker saw Pandit Nehru as “a transplanted Englishman” and admirer of things British, despite his life of resistance to British rule. He was impressed by Nehru’s wide interests and his political realism. Nehru favoured recognition of Communist China, as Diefenbaker already knew, but he was surprisingly relaxed about Chinese pressures on Formosa and the offshore islands, and felt that China offered no immediate challenge to American policy in Southeast Asia. Diefenbaker responded to Nehru’s criticisms of American attitudes by asserting that he had no complaint about American policies towards Canada. “He had,” wrote Robinson, “… been critical in the past, but his experience since coming into office had been that the Americans were going out of their way to remove causes of unnecessary friction.”103
In Ceylon the Diefenbakers were greeted warmly by the populace and somewhat less warmly by the neutralist prime minister, Solomon Bandaranaike. Diefenbaker dismissed Bandaranaike’s views with sarcasm in the memoirs: “A semi-intellectual leftist, he believed that Ceylon would achieve its greatest destiny if it sat in the neutralist camp and did not become too closely allied with Britain and the Commonwealth. So far as the policies of the USSR were concerned, he considered it the course of reason to adopt an attitude of benevolence in all his judgments.”104 Diefenbaker was disconcerted by Bandaranaike’s curt dismissal of Commonwealth trade and aid, and his apparent indifference to communist economic strategy. Both the governor general and the Canadian high commissioner told Diefenbaker that the West’s views were not making an impact in Ceylon. The prime minister responded for the defence,