Today we bring to you another piece that explores why Canada is in Afghanistan. Lauren van den Berg writes convincingly that political preferences towards a U.S. platform played a larger role than some might think in making the decisions to enter and stay in Afghanistan. Read, think and comment. We’d like the thank Lauren for her diligence and hard work on this essay.

Why are we in Afghanistan? Canada, the U.S., and political preferences

When examining the myriad of reasons behind Canada’s decision to enter Afghanistan, it becomes clear that one of the most understated has been considerations related to the domestic balance of power that was playing out in Canadian politics at the time the decision to enter was made. There were internal tensions that existed in Ottawa between central government agencies, federal departments, and the Liberal government itself under Prime Minister Jean Chrétien. As well, and not to be underestimated, was the relationship between these three groups and the United States. Specifically relevant is the question of how the preferences of Washington and the Pentagon influenced the Canadian officials responsible for foreign policy decisions. Understanding these tensions and the trade-offs they represented can offer a valuable perspective when tracing the decisions that have led to Canada’s current role in Afghanistan. Bureaucratic infighting may not be anything new in Canada’s history, but rarely has it had such a significant impact on determining the policy choices of years, if not generations, to come.

Divided loyalties? Canada, the Pentagon and the Department of National Defence

The state of Prime Minister Chrétien’s Liberal government and its agenda-setting priorities in 2001 were in an interesting juxtaposition to the preferences of the Department of National Defence (DND) and its military leaders. The historical relationship between the two groups has never been exactly warm, with perhaps the main point of division being the perceptions that each had of Canada’s armed forces: the Liberals focused on the public appeal of the peacekeeping myth, while the military community prided itself on being a combat-ready capable force. This was no slight difference, and, in turn, it greatly impacted the priorities, attitudes, and preferences of the actors involved.

Arguably, the key turning point in the relationship between the government and its military department came in the mid-1990s, a period that is now referred to as the ‘dark ages’ by scholars and bureaucrats. The reason for this shift lies in the forceful push by then-Finance Minster Paul Martin to achieve (and maintain) a balanced federal budget. With the resources of the Canadian Forces being cut by a third to help eliminate the deficit, DND may not have been the worst off of all the federal departments, but it was certainly hit hard. DND therefore turned to their counterparts south of the border for the training, equipment, and intelligence they were failing to receive from their civilian leaders back home. For years the Canadian Forces have depended on the Americans for much of their strategic and technological development—it did not have a choice.

In addition to fiscal considerations, the reality of DND’s bi-lateral relationship with the Pentagon is that DND has also enjoyed a close relationship with the American Department of Defense over its privileged position within the North American Aerospace Defence Command (NORAD).  As a bi-national organization charged with the missions of aerospace warning and control for the continent, NORAD has arguably taken on greater relevance since September 11. Yet despite the organization’s role in North American security, there remains a clear distinction between the position and preferences of the civilian leaders and those of the militaries involved. This is evident in the background history on NORAD’s official website: “While the national leadership of Canada and the U.S. continue to refine our response to the terrorist threat, NORAD’s proven abilities and unique capabilities will remain a vital part of homeland defense.”

Janice Gross Stein and Eugene Lang argue that this state of reliance between the two militaries bred an understandable loyalty between them and, as a result, Canada’s top military brass tended to be more concerned about their relationship with the American military leaders than they were with their own political masters in Ottawa. This military-to-military loyalty was reinforced by integration among the senior levels of the American and Canadian Forces and the personal networks that had developed over the decade. As an example of this, part of Rick Hillier’s appeal for the job of CF Chief of Defence Staff (CDS), despite his international experience, was the time he spent commanding American troops in Fort Hood, Texas. The loyalty that existed between the two militaries would come to have a considerable impact on determining the priorities for Canada’s defence agenda—an impact made all the more significant after September 11.

Rick Hillier - Courtesy of CBC

One of DND’s key concerns by the end of 2001 was building up Canada’s credentials with Washington on matters of defence and security. The federal ministers and their departments were focused on making sure that Washington and the Pentagon saw the Canadian military as an ally, rather than as a free-rider enjoying the benefits of American intelligence and tactical support. As the U.S.’s closest neighbor, it was expected that Canada would, and perhaps should, step up after 9/11. This concern about appearing as a free-rider ran parallel to another issue the military had been struggling with: peacekeeping. The image of Canada as a peacekeeping nation may have been deeply ingrained in the public consciousness, but it was to the frustration of the Canadian Forces, since it did little to accurately portray either national or military history.

For a risk-averse Liberal government, however, the public’s perception of peacekeeping was a valuable foreign policy tool. It lent itself to another long-standing concern of Canadian nationalism: our independence vis-à-vis the United States. Despite reacting with speed and conviction in demonstrating support for our neighbor and NATO ally in the hours and days that followed 9/11 (e.g.: setting up a Cabinet committee within 48 hours to deal with the immediate crisis; moving with unprecedented speed to draft anti-terrorism legislation that was to be brought before Parliament, etc.), Canada’s perspective of what constituted a military contribution centered on the assumption that it would be low-risk and low-key. Stein and Lang describe this assumption as being an ‘early in, early out’ operation; that is, a small number of Canadian troops would go into Afghanistan as part of a first wave, help to establish the basis for ongoing peace support operations, and then turn it over to another allied nation, thereby limiting Canadian casualties. It was to be an operation that offered symbolic value for Washington, but ensured domestic support among the voting public in Canada.

Above all, there was a strong desire among Ottawa politicians to avoid any media coverage and images of Canadian troops fighting and dying alongside Americans in a foreign country, especially amidst the lingering after-taste of the Somalia inquiry (an investigation into the shooting by Canadian soldiers of two Somalis during a humanitarian mission to the country). It is important to note that while the Americans had very little to do with the Somalia affair, the incident was relevant because it represented a major crisis of confidence for Canada’s military. It led to a shift in foreign policy away from a military-centric approach and towards an agenda that emphasized human security.

Taking this shift into account, Stein and Lang argue that defence and foreign policy issues were not key considerations for the Chrétien government, even after 9/11. While the view that such issues were wholly irrelevant for the prime minister is largely an oversimplification, these concerens were not at the top of the government’s policy agenda. There was at the time, in fact, a much more immediate and pressing concern to be dealt with for the Chrétien government – political survival.

The spring of 2002 saw the Liberal Party divided between Martin supporters and those in the Chrétien camp. This division can be seen in the almost surgical precision with which Defence Minister Art Eggleton was replaced by John McCallum. Keen to avoid the political fallout that inevitably follows a full cabinet re-shuffling, Chrétien opted to dismiss Eggleton and brought in a former professor and chief economist at the Royal Bank of Canada, McCallum. At the time, maintaining the appearance of a stable and well-functioning government was paramount, for Martin’s supporters were lobbying hard for Chrétien to step down. The prime minster could not afford to show any weakness. While officials in Ottawa, like their military counterparts, always kept an eye on Washington, the Liberal Party was about to undergo a major transition that would require a significant amount of their attention. This transition would attempt to distinguish the reign of one Prime Minster from another, most notably in the realm of foreign policy.

One party, different directions

When Paul Martin was sworn in as the 21^st Prime Minister of Canada, his staff and supporters had already spent a significant amount of time in the year leading up to the appointment looking for ways that Martin could separate himself from Chrétien. One of the emerging priorities was improving the icy relations with Washington that had developed under Chrétien’s mandate. When it came to specific foreign policy goals, Martin wanted to make sure to distance himself from what was described as the “managerialism” of the former government. As such, his priorities were Darfur, Haiti, and the Middle East, in that order. Afghanistan was a distant fourth. Again, this image of peacekeeping as a policy instrument played an important role: seen as the ‘Liberal’ thing to do, humanitarian aid was to be supplied in the form of international peacekeeping. By contrast, the military’s perspective was nowhere near similar to that of the politicians. For, as CDS Hillier said, “… you can never underestimate the desire of soldiers to prove themselves in battle.” Despite the change in political leadership, the reality was that the military institutions continued to define their priorities and their key policy issues differently than the civilian actors. In turn, the civilian leaders were embroiled in their own partisan agenda, which did not always coincide with the preferences of the other departments.

So, how does the myth of peacekeeping apply to the new security threats facing Canada, the U.S. and its NATO allies? The decision to send Canadian troops first into Kabul and then into Kandahar was not the product of a linear decision process. Rather, it developed out of disjointed perceptions and unequal priorities among the key actors. From this perspective, the decision process was largely defined by a balancing act between Canada-U.S. relations, DND and the Pentagon, and the governing party itself. The preferences of the political elite and the perceptions of the civilian and military leaders certainly impacted both Canada-U.S. relations, as well as Canada’s foreign policy agenda as a whole. As temperamental as it may be, the lens of bureaucratic politics can definitely offer some critical insights into the policy and decision-making process.

Notes:

Jockel, Joseph, and Joel Sokolsky. Fifty Years of Canada-United States Defence Cooperation: The Road From Ogdensburg. Queenston: Edwin Mellen Press, 1992.

Lang, Janice, and Eugene Lang. The Unexpected War: Canada in Kandahar. Toronto: Penguin Group, 2007.

North American Aerospace Defence Command. Deter, Detect, Defend: About NORAD. http://www.norad.mil/about/index.html