Down to Crown

Half a century ago, the political scientist Frank MacKinnon likened the governor general to a constitutional fire extinguisher: a potent apparatus clad in bright colours, placed in a conspicuous location, and unleashed only in cases of extreme emergency. As with a fire extinguisher, one does not think much about the governor general except in a crisis.

This view of a “break in case of emergency” viceroy prevails for many, but not for John Fraser, the author of what is surely the most interesting book ever written on the Crown’s representative in Canada.

An experienced journalist, Fraser knows that he has his work cut out for him in convincing us that the viceregal office is not only relevant but “an integral part of Canada’s system of responsible, elected government.” That may be enough to persuade academics, but they are not the intended audience for this book (although academics will surely appreciate its observations). Fraser is pitching to ordinary Canadians, the same readers he served as a reporter for the Globe and Mail, as a columnist for the Toronto Star and the National Post, and as the editor of Saturday Night magazine.

Thus The Governors General is neither a constitutional treatise nor an anodyne profile of the occupants of the office that one would find on sale at an Ottawa gift shop. Rather, this slim volume is part memoir, part public administration study, part self-help guide, and part job manual, complete with a healthy dose of gossip.

As its subtitle attests, The Governors General professes to be an “intimate history of Canada’s highest office.” Contrary to what one might assume from that assertion, Fraser has never been a Rideau Hall insider; he did not serve as a valet or secretary to a governor general. However, at one time or another, he met each of the thirteen governors general since the first one born in Canada, Vincent Massey, was appointed to the office in 1952. As a student at Upper Canada College, in Toronto, Fraser met Massey and his successor Georges Vanier in rather unusual circumstances. Later, as a young reporter, Fraser spent a few days aboard a Royal Canadian Navy destroyer with Roland and Nora Michener, sailing around Newfoundland. After that, Fraser’s encounters with the Crown’s representatives in Canada became far more quotidian (one cannot help but think of Forrest Gump’s many brushes with famous faces).

Fraser tells us that each governor general reveals something important about the office, the country, or the times. Many made important and lasting contributions to Canada. Vincent Massey probably had the most impact. Fraser credits him as the driving force behind the National Library, the National Arts Centre, the Canada Council for the Arts, the National Gallery, Massey College at the University of Toronto, and the Order of Canada, though the honour would not be established until April 1967, eight years after he left office. Fraser also believes that it was Georges Vanier who convinced John Diefenbaker to effectively end capital punishment in 1963. (It was formally abolished in 1976, except under the National Defence Act, and completely eliminated in 1998.)

Others left little or no mark on the office or on the country. Roméo LeBlanc’s tenure (1995–99) was so unremarkable that the official website for Canada’s governors general devotes but a single line to it, simply stating, “As governor general, in addition to the official role and responsibilities, Mr. LeBlanc promoted several personal causes.” Fraser does not explicitly classify his subjects, but it is fairly easy to group them according to his assessment: LeBlanc certainly belongs in the category of the mediocre.

Only two governors general are singled out as outstanding: Vanier (1959–67) and Adrienne Clarkson (1999–2005). It is perhaps not by chance that their two spouses, Pauline Vanier and John Ralston Saul, were among the few viceregal consorts who embraced the role and succeeded in it. Fraser concurs in the judgment that “the Vaniers are still widely regarded by historians as the greatest Canadian governor general team. Ever.”

Fraser has a soft spot for the Vaniers and an affinity for Clarkson. The former broadcaster was possibly “the most assertive and activist governor general since some of the British grandees of early Confederation.” Not everyone loved Clarkson — she had many detractors — but Fraser asserts that most had grudging respect for her.

Clarkson spent her tenure trying to bring Canadians together. She travelled the country, and especially the North, more than any governor general before or after her. Fraser reprints in its entirety the address that she gave on May 16, 2000, to mark the return of the Unknown Soldier. It is a marvellous speech, encapsulating Canadian history and written by Clarkson herself. It may be one of the best in our history. Fraser includes it to demonstrate what governors general should be doing: using their unique platform to unify Canadians. Here Clarkson succeeded. She displayed real leadership and communicated what it meant to be Canadian. For Fraser, this made her a visionary leader.

Fraser would rate several governors general as solid, if not in the same category as either Clarkson or Vanier: Vincent Massey (1952–59) did “way more good than harm.” Roland Michener (1967–74) was “a man for all Canadian seasons.” Jules Léger (1974–79) was a “humble” leader who understood and promoted the direct relationship with the monarchy. Michaëlle Jean (2005–10) also “understood what was expected of a governor general at this particular juncture in the nation’s story, and she performed her duty perfectly.” And David Johnston (2010–17) was a governor general who “honoured the sovereign, made people feel good about themselves when he was bestowing honours, and made Rideau Hall a welcoming place.”

However, Fraser deems the bulk of the occupants of Rideau Hall to be subpar. It is easy to accept this rating. The turning point was Pierre Trudeau’s naming of Edward Schreyer (1979–84), who was followed by Jeanne Sauvé (1984–90), Ray Hnatyshyn (1990–95), and LeBlanc.

Schreyer’s appointment marked the end of selecting governors general from among distinguished diplomats and the beginning of the descent into patronage through the elevation of former politicians —“political losers,” as Fraser calls them. Both Pierre Trudeau and Brian Mulroney used Rideau Hall as “a kind of superior Senate appointment,” but it must be said that sitting in the Red Chamber is far less taxing than being governor general. Additionally, when prime ministers name someone to the Senate, they rarely need to worry about that person’s spouse.

Fraser describes how the issue of viceregal partnerships troubles most office-holders and has proven resistant to solutions. Stephen Harper, for one, referred to “spousal alienation” as the biggest problem with his appointees.

Not surprisingly, then, spouses feature prominently in Fraser’s intimate portrait of governors general — mostly for their unhappiness or for the problems they caused. The businessman and former Liberal cabinet minister Maurice Sauvé was thought to have abused his position to get information from deputy ministers. Gerda Hnatyshyn was “a considerable force” who banned women on staff from wearing pants. The press gallery heard a lot of gossip about Diane Fowler LeBlanc —“most of it unpleasant and sometimes bitchy.” Michaëlle Jean’s husband, Jean-Daniel Lafond, was “laconic and tetchy,” while Mary Simon’s husband, Whit Fraser, is “a warm, affable, and articulate mass of affectionate humanity.”

Like Pauline Vanier and John Ralston Saul, Gabrielle Léger thrived in the role of viceregal spouse. Arguably, she was much more than that, given that her husband had a stroke six months into his tenure, leaving him partially incapacitated. She willingly “continued to share the burden of office” and effectively served as governor general alongside him.

It is hard to argue with Fraser’s assessment of Julie Payette (2017–21) as Canada’s worst governor general. She was clearly the wrong person for the job, and it was equally clear that Justin Trudeau and his advisers had done absolutely no due diligence on her. As Fraser relates, it took the Toronto Star about the time it takes to do a Google search to discover that Payette had accidentally killed a woman by running her over in her car and that she had been detained at a police station for allegedly attacking her estranged husband with a dangerous weapon. This background alone should have made the former astronaut ineligible for the job.

This part of the book is the gossipiest, with Fraser sharing emails and communications between Payette and himself. It’s all a bit much, and one wishes that Fraser had assumed greater journalistic distance and focused more on what happened at Rideau Hall and less on tales from Massey College, including one about graduate students in the men’s washroom expressing a prurient interest in the future governor general. (Fraser was the head of the college at the time and Payette a former junior fellow.)

Fraser’s insights about Justin Trudeau and his penchant for appointment by press release are valuable. The choice of Payette was part of a pattern that included Jody Wilson-Raybould as justice minister, Bill Morneau as finance minister, and Birju Dattani as chief commissioner of the Canadian Human Rights Commission. These selections were all flawed, but Payette’s was a spectacular failure.

No one has yet explained how the Privy Council Office and the RCMP could have either missed the critical events in Payette’s background or been kept completely out of the loop. This lapse may not be worthy of a public inquiry, but at the least it should warrant a serious external investigation. Yet we lack the capacity in this country for critical self-reflection or for confronting the realities of a sclerotic system, whether that be prime ministerial appointments or health care.

One of Fraser’s best insights about Payette’s lack of suitability for the role is that the governor general was completely AWOL during the first two years of COVID‑19. As Fraser notes, unlike the Queen or our prime minister, Payette “failed utterly to deploy her symbolic office to reassure Canadians.”

Fast-forward to today, and the country faces a crisis matching or exceeding the pandemic. As Fraser states, we are in “serious psychological depression due to guilt and inchoate anger on Indigenous issues, due to outrageous economic challenges from south of the border, due to a souring of multiculturalism thanks to poor assimilation of new immigrants.” We need a governor general who can bring us together.

For this purpose, Fraser finds the current occupant of Rideau Hall wanting. Mary Simon, who assumed office in July 2021, is rarely in the media. Perhaps a low profile is what Rideau Hall needed after Payette: a respectful, professional person of integrity. But given the challenges of today, that is not enough. Simon has turned out to be the right person for the wrong times. As Fraser observes, there is no sign that she ever possessed the skill set to find ways to bolster national confidence. More is needed.

This book therefore comes at a critical point. On May 5, Mark Carney announced that the former Supreme Court of Canada justice Louise Arbour will succeed Simon as governor general. Given all the challenges that Canada faces, we need an energetic unifier-in-chief at Rideau Hall as soon as possible. The country needs someone who is prepared for the job on their first day and who understands that their new role is about Canada and not about them. We need a governor general who will be able to do more than simply stand quietly in the corner and wait patiently to deal with any constitutional emergency. We will see if Arbour is up to the task.