By Patrice Dutil, July 25, 2023
Fifty years ago today, Canada bid an official farewell to Louis St-Laurent, one of the best citizens of its history. Sadly neglected by the public memory nowadays, St-Laurent was a transformative prime minister, one of the very best. Hardly any aspect of the country was left untouched by the government he headed from 1948 to mid-1957: from the arts to transportation infrastructure, from hospital insurance to the creation of the RRSP, from the launch of Canada’s international assistance to struggling nations to the Pearson peace initiative on the Suez Canal, he was at the centre of a dynamic government that got things done.
The TransCanada highway and the St. Lawrence Seaway were his doing. Building infrastructure was also his undoing: his stubborn support for a cross-Canada gas pipeline ultimately defeated his government, but this was not something he regretted because the country needed it.
Louis St-Laurent negotiated the final settlements to bring Newfoundland and Labrador into Confederation; he insisted on naming a Canadian to the post of Governor General; he made the Supreme Court of Canada the final court of appeal—no longer could recourse be had in London. St-Laurent cut the last strings that attached Canada to the UK.
He opened the doors to more immigrants from around the world than ever. He fought the Cold War and invested heavily in the country’s military, even commissioning the country’s last aircraft carrier.
He made Canada the modern country we know today. He was not a showman. He preferred straight talk and avoided empty boasts. There was quiet assurance to the man that inspired the voting public and that earned him respect on the streets of the country and in international capitals. He won the biggest ever victory for the Liberals 1949 and his government was easily re-elected in 1953. The Liberals won the popular vote in 1957 (almost 41%), but the Diefenbaker Progressive Conservatives won seven more seats.
The son of a shopkeeper in the small town of Compton, Quebec, Louis St-Laurent seemed to break all the rules of Canadian politics. Born in 1882, he grew up in a fluently bilingual environment (his father, a proud Québécois, spoke only French; his mother spoke only English). He studied to become a lawyer at Laval University. He turned down a Rhodes Scholarship so he could get his law practice up-and-running. Louis St-Laurent was in a hurry: he desperately wanted to marry Jeanne Renault and he needed the money to do it. He hanged his shingle in Quebec City, bought a house on the Grande-Allée and made his life there. His little law firm grew prosperous as companies in Quebec, various parts of Canada and the United States sought his counsel. He had five children, could afford occasional trips to Europe as well as a summer home on the Ile d’Orléans. Life was good. He had no interest in politics.
The economic downturn of the 1930s hit the family hard, but St-Laurent persisted. A Liberal in his soul (he was devoted to Wilfrid Laurier), St-Laurent had no interest in electoral politics, though he enjoyed an enviable public profile. As the war took its toll, Mackenzie King courted St-Laurent, hoping he could join cabinet. St-Laurent, who was about to turn 60, did not think he could bring much to the government. That changed when Japan attacked Pearl Harbour in early December 1941. St-Laurent informed King that he would take up the invitation to serve and was sworn in as Minister of Justice a few days later. He was a good decade older than the average minister.
He was handed heavy files, not least the case against Japanese Canadians. The hostile mood of Canadians, particularly in British Columbia, towards Asian immigrants had not changed much since the 1870s, but with Japan’s attack, it darkened even more. As Minister of Justice, St-Laurent was implicated in the mass deportment to various camps and the theft of property that ensued. It was war, he later recalled, with some regret, but context mattered. Canadian prisoners of war were brutally treated by the Japanese army; people in government as well as in the general population feared an insurrection of Japanese nationals inside Canada. It was a foolish perception and, in hindsight, a grotesque error of judgment and law, but at the time it was seen as perfectly legitimate (it was a continental initiative, incidentally, launched in the United States).
St-Laurent earned the confidence of the prime minister and his colleagues. He was a wise man who appreciated the political realities of public policy—a hard realist with a tender heart. After the war, he was made Minister of External Affairs (a post traditionally held by the prime minister). Here again, he distinguished himself. Not afraid to adopt policies that even Mackenzie King disliked, St-Laurent harboured views about an internationalist Canada that surprised many.
Mackenzie King thought St-Laurent would make for a great prime minister, and so did his colleagues. At age 66, he became the oldest man to assume the office (except for old Charles Tupper in 1896) and again broke an unspoken rule of politics.
His first forays were in external affairs. He had no qualms in recognizing Israel, spearheaded the creation of NATO and launched international assistance with the Columbo Plan in 1950. He led Canada into the Korean War and fought the spread of communism. His view was that Canada had a vital role to play on the international scene. It had earned that right in two world wars and the Korean conflict and had something positive to contribute to peace. His international tour in 1954 (the first for a Canadian prime minister, that included capitals in Europe as well as Islamabad, New Delhi, and Tokyo) was a smashing success. Lester Pearson was sent on a one-week visit to Moscow a year later.
As prime minister, St-Laurent easily commanded his cabinet. He inherited many superstars that had been recruited by Mackenzie King, but made better use of them than ever. He also attracted men of high talent. More than that, he gave them latitude to try new ideas. In that respect, he was probably the best cabinet manager this country has ever had. St-Laurent was a serious man who gave a serious hearing to anyone who needed it. Once he gave a green light, there was no going back. That sort of assurance is gold and his ministers knew it. That he aimed for balanced budgets was not lost on his ministers either. He was an old man in politics but everything he did was surprisingly new and fresh.
By 1957, even after another very active and successful four years of innovations, St-Laurent led the polls going into the June election. Now 75 and tired, he had hoped to retire but his party would not allow it. His performance, reported on television, began to flag. A big event at Maple Leaf Gardens went sour and John Diefenbaker’s campaign suddenly caught fire in the last weeks of the campaign. The Liberals had been in government for 22 years and despite all their successes, many voters wanted a change. The country lurched to the right, electing more candidates from the PC and the Social Credit parties. St-Laurent could have tried to form government with the Leftist Cooperative Commonwealth Federation (as King had done in 1921 with the Progressives), but that idea was quickly dropped and the Liberals decided to withdraw and regroup.
St-Laurent resigned quietly a few months later and was succeeded by Lester Pearson. He returned to Quebec City with Jeanne and quietly resumed his law career with his son Renault. He also returned to Laval University to teach occasional courses in commercial law. Modest to a fault, he did not seek to interfere in the affairs of the nation. He died on 25 July 1973 at the age of 91.
Canada had been transformed in the intervening years as the Diefenbaker, Pearson and Trudeau governments launched all sorts of initiatives to accommodate demands for bigger government. People talked about rights, inter-generational conflict and nuclear war. Inflation triggered by the oil shock of that year distracted conversation. St-Laurent, the man of a past generation, did not seem relevant. A state funeral and a dignified requiem mass was sung in his honour at Notre-Dame de Quebec Cathedral on 28 July; a few hours later he was buried next to his parents. In his eulogy, Prime Minister Pierre Trudeau called St-Laurent a man of “order and reason”, a prime minister “who had served his country and humanity in exceptional ways.” He noted that a “moral purpose guided and directed all his actions” in all he did. A former student, Senator Jacques Flynn (PC-Quebec) said that St-Laurent had embodied “unity, harmony and hope” in his day. Joey Smallwood fondly remembered how St-Laurent was “sincerely anxious that Newfoundlanders should be happy to be Canadians.” President Nixon, now embattled in the Watergate scandal, underlined St-Laurent’s important contributions to the “structures of world peace,” noting in particular his important role in creating NATO.
St-Laurent was a proud Canadian who served his country with quiet dignity and a demand for excellence. He was devoted to national unity and accomplished enormous changes in policy to modernize Canada. He has been forgotten mostly, but perhaps this week Canadians will find it in their hearts to spare him a thought.
Patrice Dutil is a Senior Fellow at the Macdonald-Laurier Institute. He is the editor of ‘The Unexpected Louis St-Laurent: Politics and Policies for a Modern Canada’ (University of British Columbia Press)
