[R-G] Classified Canada
Anthony Fenton
fentona at shaw.ca
Tue Aug 21 10:25:17 MDT 2007
Copyright 2007 Micromedia Limited
All Rights Reserved
Canadian Business and Current Affairs
Copyright 2007 Canada's National History Society
Beaver
August 2007 / September 2007
SECTION: Pg. 52 Vol. 87 No. 4 ISSN: 0005-7517
ACC-NO: 1320618411
LENGTH: 1045 words
HEADLINE: Classified Canada
BYLINE: Moore, Christopher
BODY:
When it comes to the nation's intelligence and security history, much
of our past is considered a state secret - and that's a shame.
"Turn on Your television!" Wesley Wark learned of the World Trade
Centre attacks from a public-relations officer at the University of
Toronto. That morning the university was being flooded with media
requests for expert analysts, and Wark, who is a historian of
security and intelligence studies, was in hot demand.
For several months after September 11, 2001, Wark found media
interviews occupied him "seven days a week." Demand has slowed a
little since then. Still, the war in Afghanistan, the invasion of
Iraq, and our constant twentyfirst-century concern with terrorism
mean there is public interest in secret intelligence and counter-
terrorism. I thought it was time to look into Canada's history of
security and intelligence and what we actually get from it.
"Is there a particularly Canadian history of secret intelligence?" I
asked Wark. He assured me we have one of the longest among modern
nations.
During the American Civil War, pre-Confederation Canadian governments
took steps to ensure that neither Union nor Confederate agents could
provoke a breach of Canadian neutrality. A little later, a
combination of Canadian espionage and Fenian ineptitude meant "Fenian
planning was very nearly an open book for the Canadian security forces."
In the Second World War, Canada did significant work in signals
intelligence, tracking German, Japanese and Vichy French
communications through the shadowy "Examination Unit." One of the
leading figures in that story was Lester Pearson - a future prime
minister - who had become External Affairs' man on intelligence and
security matters.
Canada later used its wartime contributions to lobby for a place at
the table alongside its intelligence allies.
"Really," Wark says, "it was a case of Canadian chutzpah - of
Canadians in the post-war era bargaining the country into the most
secret club in the world."
Wark believes that, at heart, security and intelligence history is
really about the history of ideas. It's a lesson he learned at
Cambridge University in the 1970s, when he went there from his
Alberta home to study "traditional diplomatic history." Just at that
time, security and intelligence studies were being invented as a
serious field of academic history. Britain had begun to open its
intelligence archives and Cambridge scholars (often intelligence
veterans themselves) were publishing a multi-volume official history
of secret Intelligence in the Second World War. Wark was hooked.
Returning to Canada, he made the same discovery here that his mentors
had made in Britain. A nation's security and intelligence processes,
he argues, are a window into its idea of the world, a pointer to its
deepest fears. The way Canada has practiced intelligence since the
Second World War has both mirrored and shaped its more public
diplomacy. International alliances, the search for middle-power
influence, the effort to stay at the big table - "all this
intelligence history really does explore how Canada has perceived
itself and its place in the world, in our global alliances."
Yet intelligence history is not a field that Canada has encouraged.
The public is interested, but Wark finds Canadian security archives
are locked away much more completely than their Britain and American
equivalents.
One of Wark's principal works has been an official history of
Canadian intelligence activities from the 1940s until about 1970. He
was given access to the historical archives of Canadian intelligence,
and he thinks he has written a substantial history, one that follows
Canadian intelligence from the darkest days of the Second World War
through the travails of the Cold War. It sounds fascinating - the
rich product of almost thirty years of scholarly engagement focused
on otherwise unexamined source materials.
Problem is, you can't read it. The book is classified, and so are all
the sources it draws on ("a treasure trove," Wark says). Officials at
the Staff Intelligence Unit of the Privy Council Office in Ottawa
told me some of the work has now been cleared through an Access to
Information request and can be made available. But the book itself
remains secret. Will the archives of mid-twentieth Century Canadian
intelligence be opened and the book published as an official history?
It's uncertain at best.
It's not just official secrecy that's complicating Canadian security
and intelligence history. Diplomatic/military/ political history is
deeply unfashionable in the scholarly community. Martin Rudman, who
retired in June from Carleton University's Canadian Centre of
Intelligence and Security Studies, reports that he is one of several
scholars in the field who have not been replaced. "Canadians students
of intelligence have to go overseas to study, and then there are no
academic positions for them to return to."
Does it matter?
Reg Whitaker is retired from York University but remains involved in
security studies as a consultant to both the O'Connor Commission on
the detention of Maher Arar and the Major Inquiry into the Air India
murders. He cheered last winter when Parliament refused to renew the
preventive-arrest and investigative-powers clauses of the Anti-
Terrorism Act, which were given a five-year sunset clause when first
passed in 2001. Still, "it was a pretty awful debate," he says, with
the two sides mostly trading charges of disloyalty on one hand and
McCarthyism on the other. Few parliamentarians displayed much insight
into the principles involved.
That's one reason why we need greater access to Canada's security and
intelligence records, as well as more historians studying the
subject. We might have a better-informed public if citizens could
compare the anti-terrorist fervor of recent years against histories
of, say, the anti-communist security activities of the early 1950s.
Christopher Moore comments in every issue of The Beaver.
Prime Minister Louis St. Laurent, far left, and Lester B. Pearson,
far right, pose with Prime Minister Winston Churchill and Anthony
Eden on their arrival at Rockcliffe Airport, Ottawa, on June 29,
1954. During his early career in External Affairs, Pearson played a
key role in Canadian security and intelligence matters.
GRAPHIC: Photographs
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