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In April 1945, delegations from 50 nations, including Canada, gathered in SanFrancisco for the conference resulting in the founding of the United Nations. It wasstill two weeks before the final Allied victory in Europe, while the war in the Pacificraged on to its conclusion in August. While the great powers assured their dominantrole with their veto on the Security Council, the smaller powers like Canada carvedout a place for themselves with rotating seats on the Security Council and a majorrole in developing the permanent multilateral infrastructure of the UN in agenciessuch as the International Civil Aviation Organization (ICAO), based from its foundingin Montreal. “If the dominance of the great powers was tolerable in a time of globalwar,” writes Denis Stairs, “it would hardly do in a time of peace, when a moreinclusive politics would be much better suited to the needs of the lesser states.” Inthis look back at the San Francisco conference, Stairs writes how Canada got in onthe ground floor.

En avril 1945, les délégations de 50 pays, dont le Canada, se sont retrouvées à SanFrancisco pour la conférence de fondation des Nations unies, deux semaines avantla victoire finale des Alliés en Europe et quelques mois avant la fin de la guerre duPacifique en août. Tandis que les grandes puissances assuraient leur domination ens’attribuant un droit de veto au Conseil de sécurité, les plus petites s’y octroyaientun siège tournant et, surtout, un rôle majeur dans l’élaboration de l’infrastructuremultilatérale permanente de l’ONU, composée d’agences comme l’Organisation del’aviation civile internationale, dont le siège social est établi à Montréal depuis sacréation. « Si on tolérait la domination des grandes puissances en temps de guerre,écrit Denis Stairs, on le peut nettement moins en période de paix, quand unepolitique d’inclusion convient beaucoup mieux aux États de moindre importance. »Revenant sur la conférence de San Francisco, l’auteur décrit comment le Canada ajoué dès le début un rôle décisif.

O n April 25, 1945, the delegations of 50 states gath-ered at San Francisco to attend the “UnitedNations Conference on International

Organization.” The 282 official delegates — 7 of themCanadians — were accompanied by 1,444 advisers and sup-port staff. Collectively, they were served by an internation-al secretariat of 1,058. On average they generateddocuments totalling a half-million pages per day. From thesidelines, their politics were interpreted by a swarm of 2,636radio and newspaper reporters. And their primary missionwas to agree on a constitution — a charter — for a neworganization to succeed the ill-fated League of Nations,which had been established for collective security purposes,albeit with little effect, in the wake of World War One.

The draft with which the delegates had to work hadbeen agreed upon by four great powers — the United States,Great Britain, the Soviet Union, and China — in a meetingat Dumbarton Oaks (a private estate in Washington) inAugust 1944. In its original form, it had emanated largelyfrom the State Department, although the ensuing four-power negotiations had resulted in a number of changes,many of them on the vigorous insistence of the USSR. Notsurprisingly, given its authors, the final version of the great-power draft gave pride of place in the new organization tothe most powerful states, and it was therefore received bythose of more modest capacity with something less thantotal enthusiasm. By the time the San Francisco conferenceended on June 26, roughly 1,200 amendments to the

FOUNDING THE UNITEDNATIONS: CANADA AT SAN FRANCISCO, 1945Denis Stairs

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Dumbarton Oaks proposal had beenadvanced for discussion. More than afew of them had originated withCanadians, or were strongly supportedby them.

C anada’s diplomatic interests,needless to say, were reflected in

its constitutional preferences, as wellas in the arguments that were used todefend them. Constitutions amount,after all, to sets of rules for the makingof decisions, and in politics — nation-al and international alike — thestakes, as much for the long term asthe short, can be very high. It follows

that constituent assemblies are seriousbusiness, and the San Francisco con-ference was a constituent assembly.Hence, the Canadian response to itcan tell us a great deal about theunderlying foundations of Canada’spost-war foreign policy.

Perhaps that is why the story hasbeen told so often. But the recent rhet-oric of Canadian policy-makers, withits frequent emphasis on “values” asthe most important driver of Canada’sbehaviour abroad, suggests that weneed to be reminded, yet again, of thefundamental premises of Canadianbehaviour.

In the Department of ExternalAffairs, planning for the post-warinternational order began as early as1943. A few in the department —Escott Reid notably — thought thatCanada might usefully propose agrand design of its own, but those of amore hard-headed disposition, typi-fied best by Hume Wrong, knew fromthe beginning that this would be a

futile undertaking. The grand designswould be concocted by the great pow-ers. The smaller powers would have tocontent themselves with wary vigi-lance and forceful reaction. In a for-eign service schooled in the traditionalstyle and the humanities disciplines(especially history, philosophy, litera-ture, and the classics), a conception ofinternational politics as the “art of thepossible” was the dominant view. Itencouraged a focus on cultivatingroom for manoeuvre within the con-straints imposed by the prevailing dis-tribution of international power andby the political realities that flowed

from it. What objectives were reason-able? What could Canada hope to getaway with? These were the operationalquestions. In probing for the answers,there was a need, certainly, to push, topull, and to stretch, but in the endthere would be no point in allowingthe reach to exceed the grasp.

In reflecting on their mandate, theplanners in Ottawa had immediatelybefore them a clear example of whatthey wanted most to avoid. World WarTwo was still in train. But it was beingrun on the allied side by the “BigThree” — the United States, the UnitedKingdom, and the USSR. The assess-ment of the prime minister, MackenzieKing, was that this was the way it hadto be. The big decisions would bemade by the big battalions. His judg-ment may have been fortified by asense of relief. He had no hope ofinfluencing outcomes in any case, andkeeping clear of the top-level policy-making meant he could avoid beingblamed if things went badly wrong.

But relieved or not, he was happyenough at wartime conferences inQuebec City and elsewhere to make nodemand for a personal seat at thetable. Away from it, he would settleinstead for some politically convenient“photo-ops.”

If the dominance of the greatpowers was tolerable in a time of glob-al war, however, it would hardly do ina time of peace, when a more inclusivepolitics would be much better suitedto the needs of the lesser states. In theCanadian view, neither the Big Three,nor the Big Four, nor even the Big Five(with a liberated France added to the

list) should be allowed toassume that they were freeto run the post-war order asthey wished. This was the20th century, not the 19th.

A s the Dumbarton Oaksdraft was later to indi-

cate, however, the “concertsystem” approach to themanagement of worldaffairs appeared to be verymuch a part of what the

great powers had in mind. After all,they had control of the most substan-tial agglomerations of the resources ofstatecraft. It followed that they wouldcarry most of the peace and securityburden. They were entitled in conse-quence to have the most say over whatthe institutions of the post-war orderwould do — or, and often more impor-tantly, would not do. They would, forexample, have permanent seats on theSecurity Council. Others would comeand go. And they would each have aveto over the council’s decisions.Others would not.

To this evolution in great-powerthinking, about which the Canadianswere kept particularly well-informedby the British, there was at the con-ceptual level — the level of principle— an ingenious Ottawa response. TheCanadians bought easily enough intothe great power notion that the newcollective security organization andits more prosaic off-shoots (theSpecialized Agencies, including the

Denis Stairs

In the Department of External Affairs, planning for the post-war international order began as early as 1943. A few in thedepartment — Escott Reid notably — thought that Canadamight usefully propose a grand design of its own, but thoseof a more hard-headed disposition, typified best by HumeWrong, knew from the beginning that this would be a futileundertaking. The grand designs would be concocted by thegreat powers. The smaller powers would have to contentthemselves with wary vigilance and forceful reaction.

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World Health Organization [WHO],the Food and AgricultureOrganization [FAO], the InternationalCivil Aviation Organization [ICAO],the International LabourOrganization [ILO], and a small butgrowing battery of others) ought tohave institutions that would allocatedecision-making responsibility inaccordance with the real distributionof power. If they did otherwise, they

would not be viable. For starters, thegreat powers might then pick up theirmarbles and go home — in whichcase the entire collective securityenterprise would have been lost.Given the complexities of interna-tional politics, the new UnitedNations would have little enoughchance of succeeding as it was, with-out its being further crippled by sofundamental a structural flaw.

The Canadians did try hard, how-ever, to modify the way in which thegreat power notion would be applied.The conceptual apparatus uponwhich they founded their effort wascomposed of two principal ingredi-ents. The first and most fundamentalwas embodied in the so-called “func-tional principle.” It held, in effect,that the role assigned to any givenstate in the making of decisions ought

Founding the United Nations: Canada at San Francisco, 1945

Mackenzie King was happy enough to host Franklin Roosevelt and Winston Churchill, here at the first of two Quebec Summits inAugust 1943, rather than demand a seat at the big table of the Security Council. But Canada also thought the dominance of the great

powers, acceptable in wartime, should give way in peacetime to “a more inclusive politics” at the new United Nations.

Montreal Gazette Archives

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to reflect the degree and intensity ofits interest in the matters at issue, onthe one hand, and the significance ofthe assets it could bring to bear inresponding to them, on the other.The ingenuity of the argument lay inits implication that the hierarchy ofpower, and hence the entitlement toinstitutional positions of influence,might vary from one issue-area to thenext. However Canada’s place in theinternational system might be rankedby reference to the classicalmeasure of military capacity,by other measures it could eas-ily be regarded as a great powerin its own right. This was clear-ly the case in the production offood, for example, or in thedevelopment of civil aviation,or in medical research and thedelivery of sophisticatedhealth care services, or in thecultivation of atomic energy.Bread baskets ought to be espe-cially prominent in the FAO.The headquarters of ICAOmight reasonably be located inMontreal.

T he “functional principle”was complemented by the

second conceptual ingredientof the Canadian position —namely the concept of the“middle power.” This was espe-cially relevant to the exercise ofthe UN’s primary role as aninstrument for the mainte-nance of international peaceand security. The challengeposed by the functional principle tothe basic premise of the argument forgreat power supremacy lay in its asser-tion that the ingredients of poweritself varied with the issue in play. Thechallenge posed by the notion of themiddle power came from its insistencethat the international community wascomposed, not of two classes of states(great powers and all the rest), but three(great powers, middle powers, and allthe rest). The middle power categorymight be a trifle fuzzy at the edges, andthere could easily be quarrels over who

was in and who was out. But it washard to deny — even by reference tothe classical test of military might —that there was a discernible gapbetween the capabilities of countrieslike Canada on the one hand, andcountries like Haiti or Iceland on theother. With the Axis defeated and theEuropeans broadly, if temporarily,incapacitated by the devastations ofwar, some observers in 1945 rankedCanada fourth in the international

hierarchy. It might be true that thegreat powers would end up carryingmost of the security freight, but pow-ers on the next rung down might haveto move a lot of it, too. And on thatnext rung down, Canada was a leadingplayer. Its extraordinary contributionto the conduct of the war — as mucheconomic as military — was proof ofthe strength of its currency. The con-clusion was obvious: if the extraordi-nary capacities of the great powersentitled them to extraordinary privi-leges in the new institutional appara-

tus, the not insubstantial capacities ofthe middle powers warranted theirhaving a few special privileges, too.The principle was the same. Only theapplication was different.

It is important to notice here thatthis had little to do in itself with poli-cy substance. It was a matter of posi-tional politics — of establishing anentitlement to greater opportunitiesfor the exercise of influence. How theinfluence would actually be used was

not addressed. It remained tobe seen. In the meantime, whatreally mattered was the needon the one hand to trim thepresumptions and the privi-leges of the great powers (evenif the political realities meantthat this could be done only atthe margins), and on the otherto head off the more legalisticorganizational principle reflect-ed in the doctrine of stateequality (which for obviousreasons enjoyed a certain popu-larity among some of the small-er players).

There is neither the neednor the space here to addressin great detail the specificmeasures that the Canadianswere led — by their assessmentof the possible and their analy-sis of their own interest in theface of it — to advocate. A fewillustrations will suffice toestablish the general pattern.

F or this purpose, it isinstructive to begin with

the election of non-permanent mem-bers to the Security Council. Duringthe San Francisco discussions, variousattacks were made on the notion thatthe great powers alone should havepermanent seats. The Netherlands,for example, thought that the middlepowers should have permanent seats,too. India — not surprisingly — madethe argument that in the election ofnon-permanent members, specialattention should be paid to a combi-nation of population and economiccapacity. Some of the Latin

Denis Stairs

It might be true that the greatpowers would end up carrying mostof the security freight, but powers

on the next rung down might haveto move a lot of it, too. And on that

next rung down, Canada was aleading player. Its extraordinary

contribution to the conduct of thewar — as much economic as

military — was proof of the strengthof its currency. The conclusion was

obvious: if the extraordinarycapacities of the great powersentitled them to extraordinary

privileges in the new institutionalapparatus, the not insubstantialcapacities of the middle powers

warranted their having a few specialprivileges, too. The principle wasthe same. Only the application

was different.

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Americans, supported by Egypt andthe Philippines, argued for a principleof regional distribution. TheCanadian position, however — sup-ported by Australia, and with backingfrom France, among others — wasthat preference should be given tocountries with a demonstrated will-ingness and capacity to contribute tothe fulfillment of the UN’s purposes.The upshot was a compromiseamendment (suggested by the British)

that accommodated both theCanadian and regional criteria.Incorporated in article 23 of theCharter, it provided that in the elec-tion (by the General Assembly) ofnon-permanent members, “dueregard” would be “specially paid inthe first instance to the contributionof members of the Organizationtoward the maintenance of interna-tional peace and security and towardthe other purposes of theOrganization, and also to equitablegeographic distribution.” In practice,the insertion later of the geographicalcriterion had a more significantimpact, but both the functional prin-ciple and the middle power aspirationare clearly evident in the first half ofthe amendment. If Canada had beenmore effective, it would have been onthe Council more often.

Similar Canadian preoccupations— this time fortified by a domesticpolitics rooted in the unhappy experi-ence with conscription — centred ona provision that ultimately emergedin chapter VII of the Charter as article44. Chapter VII contains the organi-

zation’s core “collective security” pro-visions, and it effectively empowersthe Security Council to call on theUN’s members to take various actionsin response to aggression, includingthe mobilization of military force.The members are obligated torespond, in accordance with negotiat-ed agreements. With strong backingfrom the Netherlands and others,however, the Canadians were anxiousto ensure that they would not be

drawn into a collective securityengagement without having anopportunity to participate in themaking of the decisions that wouldlead to the active deployment of theirforces. After a series of complex nego-tiations — and the inevitable compro-mises — their requirements were atleast partly met by wording to theeffect that before the Security Councilcalled on “a Member not representedon it to provide armed forces,” itwould provide the member with anopportunity “to participate in thedecisions...concerning [their] employ-ment.” The provision ensured thatpotential contributors of militarycontingents — and the middle powerswere likely to be prominent amongthem — would at least be consultedby the council before being called toactive duty.

T he thorny question of the vetogranted in the Dumbarton Oaks

proposals to each of the SecurityCouncil’s permanent members was notsurprisingly the object of considerablesound and fury at the San Francisco

meeting. It had been controversialenough even among the Big Four, withthe Soviets and Americans insisting onthe broadest application, and theBritish attitude being slightly morerelaxed. In the San Francisco phase,some delegations thought the vetoought to be abandoned entirely, whileothers (like the ebullient Australians)advocated very aggressive restrictionson its use. The Canadians, concludingin their pragmatic style that the veto

power was the sine qua nonof great power participa-tion, decided instead to optfor minor revisions. Hencethey lent their support inparticular to a successfulamendment providing thatthe veto could not apply todecisions on matters thatwere purely procedural(article 27). In practicalterms, this meant amongother things that no greatpower could veto a propos-

al to refer to the General Assembly amatter upon which the SecurityCouncil was deadlocked. The conces-sion was possible because the GeneralAssembly, unlike the Security Council,cannot require members to take con-crete action. It can only make recom-mendations. The Canadian delegationalso supported a provision ofAustralian origin to the effect that agreat power could not veto a “peacefulsettlement” measure under chapter VI— that is, an attempt to resolve a dis-pute by means of negotiation, enquiry,mediation, conciliation, arbitration,judicial settlement and the like — ifthe great power itself were a party tothe dispute in question.

In like manner, the Canadianswere also strongly involved in pro-moting what eventually became arti-cle 10, which essentially provides thatthe General Assembly, on its own ini-tiative, can recommend action to themembers at large, or to the SecurityCouncil itself, in relation to any mat-ter falling within the scope of theCharter. It can even do this in refer-ence to security matters, in cases

Founding the United Nations: Canada at San Francisco, 1945

The Canadians were also strongly involved in promoting whateventually became article 10, which essentially provides thatthe General Assembly, on its own initiative, can recommendaction to the members at large, or to the Security Councilitself, in relation to any matter falling within the scope of theCharter...In essence, and with others, the Canadians wereattempting to strengthen the role of the General Assembly(where numbers count most), while making it possible incertain circumstances to circumvent the Security Council(where power counts most).

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where the Security Council itself isnot taking action. In essence, andwith others, the Canadians wereattempting to strengthen the role ofthe General Assembly (where num-bers count most), while making itpossible in certain circumstances tocircumvent the Security Council(where power counts most).

A little of this sort of textual analy-sis goes a very long

way, and more of it isnot required here.Suffice it to say that theCanadians were heavilyinvolved in other areasas well, notably instrengthening the role ofthe Economic and SocialCouncil and improvingCanada’s own chancesof being elected to it,and re-elected, too (the functionalprinciple again). They were also activein advancing provisions that theyhoped would improve on the calibreand political independence of theprofessional international staff of theSecretariat, and expand the secretary-general’s own power of initiative.They also worked hard to clarify therelationship between the UN and theSpecialized Agencies. In all thesecases, of course, they worked closelywith other powers of like mind, some-times in a leading, and sometimes ina supporting role. In this they wereacting at San Francisco much as theyhoped they would be able to act inthe UN itself once the organizationwas fully established and had becomeoperational.

It is true, of course, that theCanadians were hoping that the newsystem would prove to be both reli-able and effective in maintaininginternational order and in promotingthe public service purposes of theSpecialized Agencies. It is also truethat at least some of them hoped thatthe system as a whole would lead tothe further institutionalization of theinternational environment over thelong haul. To that extent, their repu-

tation for being “liberal international-ists” is well-deserved. It was in thevery nature of the beast they werehelping to create, moreover, that itwould be multilateral. With any luck,it would moderate the exercise ininternational affairs of raw power,replacing the Hobbesian version ofthe state of nature with somethingakin to a rule-ordered environment. Itmight help as well to create opportu-

nities for constructive diplomaticmanoeuvre — for the building, thatis, of advantageous, if kaleidoscopic,diplomatic coalitions. These couldnot be expected to level the playingfield completely, as the San Franciscoconference itself had amply demon-strated, but they might nonethelesssmooth over some of the sharperbumps in the terrain.

I t needs to be recognized, however,that most other delegations at San

Francisco — particularly on the ‘west-ern’ side — had similar aspirations,and in that respect the Canadian posi-tion was hardly distinctive. The realsubstance of the negotiations, at leaston the surface, had less to do, there-fore, with the UN’s underlying inter-nationalist purpose than with theinstitutional mechanisms throughwhich that purpose would be pursued.Everyone at the conference, theCanadians included, wanted to emergefrom the bargaining with the strongesthand they could get.

By the end of the proceedings,the optimism of most of theCanadians who had been activelyinvolved had been pretty muchreduced to a faint glimmer. In refer-

ence to security, after all, the systemdepended on the amicable co-opera-tion of what came later to be calledthe Security Council’s “PermanentFive,” and it was already becomingclear that getting the Soviet Union toco-operate in the pursuit of what wereultimately western preferences wasgoing to be difficult. It would not belong before Canadian officials wouldbe ruminating in public about the

possibility of establishing a regional(specifically, a North Atlantic) collec-tive defence system as an alternativemechanism for securing the westernworld against the potential preda-tions of an increasingly polarizedgreat power adversary.

But from the point of view ofinstitutionalizing the world at large,the creation of the United Nationswas at least a start, and the mecha-nism has accomplished much moreover the years than those who focusonly on the collective security com-ponent of its mandate are inclined tonotice. It is obviously a work inprogress, and no one should expectits performance to surpass what itsown members — the most powerfulof them particularly — are willing tomake of it. But the project itself iswell worth pursuing, even if the paceis sluggish. It is not surprising, there-fore, that Canada should still be sokeen on the task of reform.

Denis Stairs is McCulloch Professor inPolitical Science at Dalhousie Universityand a member of its Centre for ForeignPolicy Studies. He is also a fellow of theCanadian Defence and Foreign AffairsInstitute.

Denis Stairs

From the point of view of institutionalizing the world at large,the creation of the United Nations was at least a start, and themechanism has accomplished much more over the years thanthose who focus only on the collective security component ofits mandate are inclined to notice. It is obviously a work inprogress, and no one should expect its performance to surpasswhat its own members — the most powerful of themparticularly — are willing to make of it.