Ol' Man River

(See Cover)

The son of Jennie Jerome of New York City, American in his directness but otherwise British as bully beef, last week spoke in a crescendo of confidence. Winston Churchill's blood is half American but when it begins to boil, a chemistry of ancient loyalties makes it all British--exultant, proud, superior, unbeatable even in defeat. Members of Parliament, their war nerves crying for a tonic, cheered as the Prime Minister bucked them with sentence after bracing sentence.

In the Distinguished Strangers' Gallery Ambassador Joseph P. Kennedy and U. S. naval and military observers waited for something they thought the son of Jennie Jerome might say. On he went about casualties, about Britain's "amphibious power," about bravery in the air and production for it; he sneered at the Nazis and poured scorn on the men of Vichy. The speech worked towards its climax. Ambassador Kennedy and his aides leaned forward.

"Some months ago," said Winston Churchill, "we came to the conclusion that the interests of the United States and of the British Empire both required that the United States should have facilities for the naval and air defense of the Western Hemisphere. . . .

"Presently we learned that anxiety was also felt in the United States about the air and naval defense of their Atlantic seaboard, and President Roosevelt has made it clear that he would like to discuss with us and with the Dominion of Canada and with Newfoundland the development of American naval and air facilities. . . .

"His Majesty's Government is entirely willing to accord defense facilities to the United States on a 99-year leasehold basis. . . .

"The British Empire and the United States will have to be somewhat mixed up together in some of their affairs for mutual and general advantage. For my own part, looking out upon the future, I do not view the process with any misgivings. No one can stop it. Like the Mississippi, it just keeps rolling along. Let it roll. Let it roll on in full flood, inexorable, irresistible, to broader lands and better days."

Neighbors. OF Man River flows south, but last week, both before & after this eloquent torrent, U. S. thoughts, good will and anxiety flowed north. For in the Dominion of Canada the future was stirring like an unborn baby. There were twinges in Canada last week of old confusions and new self-consciousness. The inescapable duality in Canada's international relationships--tied to the British Empire by heartstrings, to the U. S. by social propinquity and economics--was in the mind of every Canadian.

The occasion for last week's stirrings was the new collaboration in defense with the U. S. arranged at Ogdensburg, N. Y. by Franklin Roosevelt and Canada's Prime Minister William Lyon Mackenzie King. The arrangement itself was greeted in Canada with delight. Canadians like the U. S. They have to: The Dominion of Canada is vast but inhabited Canada amounts to a corridor, nowhere much wider than 200 miles, which lies snug against 3,000 miles of U. S. border.

Canada, a British Dominion, is much closer to the U. S. than to England in culture. As social criteria, Canadians rather prefer dollars to titles. Canadians use U. S. toothpaste, read U. S. comic strips, massacre the King's English with U. S. slang, drink pop, join Greek-letter societies, eat turkey on Thanksgiving Day.

Canada has borrowed baseball from and lent hockey to the U. S. Furthermore, Canada nurtures a U. S. capital investment of $3,990,000,000 (out of total foreign investment in Canada of $6,889,000,000); and Canadian investors have put $1,311,000,000 into U. S. ventures (out of total Canadian investment abroad of $2,083,000,000). The U. S. is Canada's best and biggest market.

Nevertheless, Canadians regard U. S. citizens with much the same defensive suspicion as U. S. citizens feel in the presence of Englishmen. They deplore the U. S. ignorance about Canada which populates Canada exclusively with the Mounted Police, bears, nickel miners, angry French-Canadians and Quintuplets. They cannot forget that armies from south of the border invaded Canada for the purpose of annexation (in 1775 and 1812). In other times they had no craving for stronger ties with the U. S. Neighbors can make friends but only enemies can make allies.

Toward the mother country Canada's attitude is extremely difficult to define. The three most interesting bodies of opinion are: 1) the French-Canadians, who are scrupulously and loyally Canadian (not French or English); 2) those English-speaking citizens who want a free Canada for Canadians; 3) the Empire-loving "Toronto Imperialists," who are vaguely regarded in the way that "Wall Street" is in the U. S. If a norm were taken of these three opinions, it would probably be safe to say that: 1) the interests of Canada have gradually drifted from the British Empire toward the U. S.; 2) the loyalties of individual Canadians have drifted away from the Empire towards Canada.

This is not to say that the bonds of Empire are not strong, or that Canada is not in the war down to the last button. But the bonds of Empire are almost entirely emotional. In peacetime, Canada fought to stay out of Empire foreign affairs -- remained, for instance, outside the sphere of the Lausanne and Locarno Pacts; sat independently at Versailles and in the League of Nations; insisted consistently on "limited liability." Canadians no longer sing the version of their national anthem with the words: By Britain's side whate'er betide. But every time there has been a pinch -- as in the Boer War and World Wars I and II -- Canada has rushed to the support of British policies which she had no part in framing. This time, after searching the national soul, Canadians were in within a week of the mother country.

The key to Canada's strong emotional urge to the mother country (which New York Timesman John MacCormac in his recent book on Canada* called "an Oedipus complex" which Canada has never outgrown) is to be found in the series of definitions of Canada's position in the Empire. Beginning with the colonial letters-patent and running past many milestones to the British North America Act (1867) and finally to the Statute of Westminster (1931), the Empire has gradually loosed every hold over Canada -- except one. The most recent definition: "The self-governing Dominions are autonomous Communities within the British Empire, equal in status, though united by a common allegiance to the Crown." The person of the King is Britain's constant magnet.

G.G. In order that Canadians may have a tangible reminder of the Crown, the titular head of their Government is the King's representative, the Governor General. Last year, when King George VI and Queen Elizabeth visited Canada, they arranged that the next occupants of Rideau Hall, the Governor General's mansion, should be someone who could tighten the allegiance to the Crown--preferably Royalty. After the death of popular Baron Tweedsmuir, the Duke of Devonshire turned down the job. Last April it was given to Alexander Augustus Frederick William Alfred George Cambridge, Earl of Athlone and Viscount Trematon, who is known to his elder sister. Queen Mary, as "Algie." His wife is Princess Alice, granddaughter of Queen Victoria. The Earl of Athlone was appointed to the post in 1914, but at the outbreak of World War I decided to stay home and fight.

Since his arrival in Canada last June, the 66-year-old G.G. has fulfilled his vague job admirably. A previous G.G. once complained about the title because, he said, he was not a general and did not govern.

The G.G. is to Canada what the King is to Britain. Canadians define his job by quoting from The Gondoliers:

First, we polish off some batches
Of political dispatches
And foreign politicians circumvent:
Then, if business isn't heavy,
We may hold a Royal Levee,
Or ratify some Acts of Parliament.

If the G.G. is a particularly strong personality, Canadians quote Tennyson and say that he may occasionally "shape the whisper of the throne."

The Earl of Athlone is so regal in bearing that when he looks around he moves the whole top half of his body. He is also exceedingly kindly, and because of his charitable efforts on behalf of two unprofitable British professions has been nicknamed "Prince of Beggars" and "The Midwife's Friend." He is an excellent specimen -- almost too good, in days when figureheads are taken to sum up their societies--out of the top drawer of British nobility. A huntin', shootin', fishin' county gentleman, he is not unlike Cartoonist David Low's ultra-ultra-conservative Colonel Blimp. When he left London for his new post, his most edifying remark was to some fellow members of the Marlborough Club: he said he would "try not to let the Club down."

In the two months since he was sworn in (June 21), Lord Athlone has signed piles of bills, played a little tennis, visited scores of military establishments, gone on a few picnics along the Ottawa River, inspected some factories, seen several movies, been seen in several churches, gone to a horse show and ridden some Mounties' horses (but most Mounties use automobiles, he learned), smiled till his salt-&-pepper mustache drooped, entertained and been entertained with great good grace, and generally made himself affable. For this activity the G.G. is to be paid $40,200 a year, with an additional allowance of about $100,000 for expenses. In his efforts he has had the able assistance of Sir Shuldham Redfern, Secretary to several G.G.s, deaf, anonymous, precise as an adding machine, polite as a brass doorknob; and of Princess Alice.

Canada's First Lady is as full of good works as her husband. She has brightened up the 75-room Hall with gay, modern lithographs and paintings, and is such an excellent gardener that people who know about plants compliment her on her "green fingers."

Last week the G.G., after listening to a courteous explanation of the doings at Ogdensburg, set out with Princess Alice and their daughter, 34-year-old Lady May Abel Smith, on a tour of Toronto, Hamilton, St. Catharine's, Niagara Falls, the Maritime Provinces. At Niagara Falls this week they will be accompanied by another memento of royalty--Princess Juliana of The Netherlands.

Triangle. The Governor General serves not only to remind Canadians of their bond but also to remind U. S. citizens of their relationship with both Canada and Great Britain. From the U. S. point of view the triangle is by no means equilateral. The affable but distant feelings which lie between the U. S. and Britain were accurately summed up during George VI's tour of Canada. The Monarch asked an Irish-American journalist where he was from. "From Boston, Your Majesty," said the reporter, easily. "You know--George III?"

"Ah, yes," the King smiled, "something about tea, wasn't it?"

But Canada has two Kings: George VI and William Lyon Mackenzie King. The latter is such a warm friend of the President of the U. S. that Franklin Roosevelt is the only person in the world who calls him "Mackenzie" (intimates call Mr. King "Billy"). On Aug. 18, 1938, Franklin Roosevelt made a memorable speech at Queen's University, Kingston, Ont., in which he said: "I give to you assurance that the people of the United States will not stand idly by if domination of Canadian soil is threatened by any other empire."

It is quite probable that this speech marked the beginning not only of cordial relations between the two chief executives, but of concrete staff talks between their military aides. In any case, it was typical of them both that, circumstances having paved their way, they should pick the exact anniversary of the Kingston speech, Aug. 18, 1940, to meet at Ogdensburg and make their mutual assistance a matter of public record.

Two Circumstances made it possible for Mackenzie King to go ahead, certain that Canadians' reservations about the snooty U. S. would be put away for the time being. First, by the defeat of France, as Minister of Defense J. L. Ralston remarked, "Canada has suddenly been put very much on her own." Britain could no longer supply Canada with articles which, with France's assistance, had been surplus. Second, the imminent attack on Britain left many loyal Canadians wondering whether Canada might not be independent (or at least without a mother country) much sooner than she wanted to be.

The same two circumstances made the Canadian reaction to the joint defense plan unanimously favorable. Equally affirmative and pleased was response to the prompt action of Messrs. King and Roosevelt last week in appointing members to the Joint Defense Council. Each chose a spokesman for Army, Navy and Air Forces, a civilian, a diplomat.

The Canadian members are Deputy Chiefs of Army and Navy General Staffs, Brigadier Kenneth Stuart and Captain L. W. Murray; Colonel Oliver Mowat Biggar, one of Canada's brightest constitutional lawyers; Air Commodore A. A. L. ("Pat") Cuffe, R. C. A. F. officer responsible for coastal defense; and Dr. H. L. Keenleyside, Counselor of the External Affairs (i.e., State) Department.

The U. S. members are Lieut. General Stanley Dunbar Embick, Commander of the Fourth Corps Area, charged with Atlantic coastal defense; Captain Harry W. Hill of the Navy's War Plans' Division; New York City's omnipresent Mayor Fiorello H. LaGuardia; Commander Forrest Sherman of the Navy and Lieut. Colonel Joseph T. McNarney of the Army Air Corps, who will alternate on aviation questions; and the State Department's Assistant Chief of the European Affairs Division John Dewey Hickerson.

First Meeting. Into Ottawa--which with all its bustle last week still had the stately, leisurely air which earned it the name "Land of the Afternoon"--a train pulled this week, the rear car of which was painted service khaki. It carried the U. S. members of the Joint Defense Council. Photographers asked Fiorello LaGuardia to stand on the car steps and wave his huge hat, but the mayor put his chin down, refused to pose, and rebuked them: "This isn't exactly a joy ride."

The little mayor, in a baggy dark suit and clutching a worn brown drummer's dispatch case, was a picture of determination as the Council members strode off to lunch. Afterward Prime Minister King led them to Parliament House. On the way up the front steps Mr. King stumbled and Fiorello LaGuardia darted to pick him up. The Council retired into the long, narrow, oak-paneled Liberal Smoking Room (No. 497), and set about considering the strategic possibilities of eastern Canada and the northeastern U. S. The proposed lease of British bases to the U. S. was largely outside their bailiwick. Asked what he expected of the conference, the Little Flower of Manhattan snapped: "Results."

*CANADA: AMERICA'S PROBLEM -- Viking $2. 75.

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