Canada, by its very nature, is a land of paradoxes. Both senses of the word “paradox” are revealed in the way Canadians live and govern themselves: there are apparently absurd situations which are founded on reality, but there are also plenty of seemingly logical situations that are in fact absurd.
Take, as an example of the latter, the case of national defence and the new Canadian War Museum.
Canada has a distinguished record of military service in the cause of freedom and justice that is second to none. Its proud military history is a source of national pride that is deeply felt on occasions like Remembrance Day, but without giving way to chauvinism.
And yet, at a time when our national security is being threatened in new and terrible ways, Canadians seem largely oblivious to the need for well equipped, well trained armed forces, to the point where our military is in very serious decline.
The paradox has become manifestly clear to me during the past seven years in my work at the Canadian War Museum. As the volunteer chairman of the Passing the Torch campaign sponsored by the Friends of the Canadian War Museum, I had occasion to talk to countless Canadians about the importance of our military history and how it has helped to shape the nation. Our citizens, by and large, have a pretty good knowledge of such events as the Battle of the Plains of Abraham, Queenston Heights, the Fenian Raids, the Riel Rebellions, the Boer War, and of course the momentous wars of the 20th century. They understand that Canada took a giant step to nationhood at Vimy Ridge in April, 1917, and they know – many from personal experience – that our national contribution to the allied cause in the Second World War was prodigious in absolute terms, let alone in relation to our modest population at the time.
Above all, Canadians admire the past accomplishments of our people in uniform and their immense contribution to nationhood over the years. Thousands showed this appreciation and understanding in a tangible way, by contributing generously to the new Canadian War Museum through Passing the Torch, to the extent that the campaign’s $15 million objective was surpassed last year. This substantial sum from the private sector augments federal government funds and additional funding from the Canadian Museum of Civilization, under whose auspices the Canadian War Museum operates.
Indeed, it is not an exaggeration to say that the raising of so much private sector money was instrumental in convincing the federal government that the building of a new museum facility was a popular move. Canadians do want to preserve their military legacy.
Ironically, enthusiasm over the creation of a superb new war museum is a recent development. How often recently have I heard people say, “Ten years ago, who would have thought it possible that by 2005 we would be opening a world-class new war museum!”. The simple fact is that, gradually over the post-war years, Canadians had gone to sleep about their military history. The old museum on Sussex Drive in Ottawa was a perfect example of the creeping neglect. Antiquated, undersized and underfunded, it had been called a national disgrace.
Then, beginning more or less with the 50th anniversary of Normandy and the Liberation, a reawakening began to occur. Stimulated by historian Jack Granatstein’s 1998 book, Who Killed Canadian History?, a remarkable rebirth of interest in our military heritage took place, resulting eventually in the construction of the new Canadian War Museum at LeBreton Flats in Ottawa and numerous other military history related projects across the country related to military history.
All of this is truly wonderful, but the paradox remains: why can’t Canadians make the logical connection between the past and the present? Why aren’t the lessons of the past being applied to today’s challenging security environment?
The easy answer is that federal governments going back to the Trudeau era have given defence a low priority compared to other needs deemed to be more important. Health care, bilingualism, economic development, daycare, to name a few, became preoccupations which — not coincidentally – had a certain political appeal. Defence, on the other hand, began losing its lustre long before perestroika and the eventual collapse of communism and the Soviet Union. The so-called “peace dividend” came along at about the time when social programs began to dominate the political agenda in Canada.
Besides, defence in general and military equipment programs in particular were becoming alarmingly expensive just when successive federal governments awoke to the peril of accumulated deficits and a national debt-to-GDP ratio that threatened to go out of control. The resulting chronic underfunding of the defence budget relative to the demands of formal policy declarations led to what has been called a “rust-out” of the Canadian Forces. A huge bow wave of unfunded capital equipment requirements got bigger with every passing year. Forty-year-old helicopters weren’t replaced when they should have been. top level domain Cold War era army vehicles had to be used in combat situations for which they were not designed. ask a nurse . Used submarines were purchased because new subs were unaffordable. The nation’s strategic and tactical airlift capability deteriorated as the aged fleet of C-130 Hercules became increasingly difficult to maintain.
Nor was just the capital budget under stress. The incidence of real military operations increased dramatically after the Cold War ended, just when the size of the armed forces was being reduced quite drastically for want of adequate defence funding. It was only the traditional “can-do” spirit of the Canadian soldiers, sailors and air force personnel that kept the system going without major failures.
This took a heavy toll in two ways. It was especially hard on those servicemen and women who, time and again, with little rest between missions, found themselves in places like Bosnia, Kosova and Afghanistan. Morale suffered, retention of skilled personnel fell off, while the recruiting and training of new members became a problem.
Also, however, continually doing the job in spite of declining support has had the negative effect of lulling the Canadian public into a sleepwalking trance regarding its military. Successive federal governments, being masters at sensing the public mood, directed their attention and dollars to other more popular issues. By 2004, the problem had taken on crisis dimensions, to the extent that the continuing existence of the Canadian Forces as a viable institution was being brought seriously into question. Note, for example, Professor Douglas Bland’s book, Canada Without Armed Forces?, and Jack Granatstein’s book, Who Killed the Canadian Military?, both published in 2004. There and elsewhere, the term “death spiral” was being used in describing the current state of the Armed Forces.
Meanwhile, and paradoxically, the new Canadian War Museum is already earning critical acclaim for its magnificent architecture and the promise of fulfilling its threefold motto: REMEMBER, PRESERVE and EDUCATE. One might hope that this facility makes a stark lesson of history clear: nations which neglect their own national security do so at their own peril. It is even possible that attitudes towards defence may change in the months and years to come, in the sort of turnaround that occurred ten years ago with respect to the War Museum itself.
Unfortunately, it could be too late. This is not 1939, where in similar circumstances Canada and Canadians performed a miracle in rebuilding the nation’s sadly neglected defence posture. Fortunately, there was then time to rebuild. Today, in the face of a massive terrorist attack within Canada, for example, there will not be years or even months to respond.
In any case, in spite of growing warnings, Canadians do not yet seem inclined to pay for better armed forces, even though they are near the bottom of the heap in defence dollars per capita amongst the developed nations. Our geographical isolation, our having been free of terrorist activity (so far), the comfortable notion that Uncle Sam’s security umbrella protects us, and the misguided notion that peacekeeping is Canada’s real niche in a troubled world, all militate against a sudden turnaround.
And so the paradox remains. We can only hope that Canada will come to its senses before it is too late. For this to happen the politicians must first of all, and very quickly, produce a refreshing and realistic new defence policy. This must be carefully linked with foreign policy and national security policy in the context of a very different world from that which existed a decade ago.
Whatever its form – White Paper or otherwise – the new policy in turn must lead to a large infusion of cash into the Department of National Defence, accompanied by a streamlining of the defence procurement system, currently ponderous, slow and inefficient. All of these factors must come together in a coherent way. Otherwise – even with billions added to the defence budget – there is no guarantee that the military will be better able to serve the country than it has done in recent years.
Finally, none of this can happen unless the Canadian public wakes up to the urgency of the situation. Only then will the federal government respond. And only then will the paradox be resolved, to the extent that fifty years from now the Canadian War Museum will be able to tell the story of how, in the very early years of the twenty-first century, Canadians at last got serious about their defence responsibilities.
By Paul Manson, Gen, OC, CMM, OSTJ, CD
