Mulroney and the challenge of defence planning

Canada’s 1987 defence white paper came at the wrong time, but was right about a capability we should have today.

Brian Mulroney's national defence legacy is multifaceted. He committed Canada to the 1990-91 Persian Gulf War, despite strong opposition from the Liberals. His government also deployed the CAF to the ill-fated mission in Somalia in 1992. He and US president Ronald Reagan signed a renewed agreement for the North American Aerospace Defence Command in 1986, and his government flirted with Canadian participation in the American Strategic Defense Initiative against ballistic missiles. Although it was the Quebec government of Robert Bourassa who requisitioned the military in aid of the civil power to deal with the 1990 Oka Crisis, this episode is an important part of Mulroney's story, too.

Less remembered outside of military circles is the Mulroney government's 1987 defence white paper. Titled Challenge and Commitment: A Defence Policy for Canada, this document is necessarily part of Mulroney’s contribution to Canadian defence, despite having a very short shelf life. Above all, this white paper is a reminder of how difficult long-term defence planning is in Canada. It also offers us a window into what kind of capabilities Canada could have developed to address the threats and challenges that we face today.

When Mulroney became Prime Minister in 1984, the Canadian military was in the midst of a major recapitalization launched by the Pierre Trudeau government in 1975. Several major procurements had been completed or were underway, including the acquisition of CF-18s and new frigates. Despite these investments, Canada was seen as a laggard within the NATO alliance (plus ça change). Notably Canada faced a 'commitment-capability gap': we couldn't deliver on the promises we'd made to NATO in the event that war with the Warsaw Pact broke out.

The 1987 defence white paper aimed to address this shortfall and then some. Spearheaded by Mulroney's defence minister, Perrin Beatty, the 1987 white paper promised a major increase in defence spending and capabilities to close the commitment-capability gap. It was the most ambitious Canadian defence policy since the Korean War and up to the present.  

With the methodical Kenneth Calder holding the pen, and Robert Fowler overseeing the project as Assistant Deputy Minister (Policy), the 1987 white paper further proposed a bold capability expansion: the acquisition of 10-12 nuclear powered submarines.

This proposal is what the 1987 paper is most associated with and what caused the greatest controversy at the time. For the Mulroney government, the acquisition of nuclear powered submarines was necessary to effectively defend Canada against the Soviet threat, particularly in the Arctic. Indeed, a Canadian nuclear powered submarine fleet also would have given us an ability to detect and surveil what our allies were doing in the Canadian Arctic. This was why the Americans were opposed to the idea; they didn't want Canada to know what their boats were up to in the region.

The loudest opponent, though, was the Canadian peace movement. Anything nuclear was wrong and destabilizing in their eyes. Although the submarines would only have had nuclear propulsion, not armaments, the distinction didn't matter to Canadian ears. It struck at the heart of Canadians' (false) self-image of themselves as paragons of non-nuclear virtue in the age of mutually assured destruction. The submarine plan fell apart, as a result.

Even if the Mulroney government could have mustered the courage to press ahead with the submarine proposal, the core premise of the 1987 white paper evaporated when the Cold War ended two years after it was released. Rather than strengthening Canada's contribution to NATO’s conventional deterrent, attention turned toward securing a peace dividend.

Given Canada's precarious financial situation, this shift was understandable. But the long-term effects of abandoning the goals of the 1987 white paper are still felt today. Had Canada built a fleet of nuclear powered submarines, we wouldn't be fretting about the surveillance and defence of the Arctic. We'd have the most effective maritime tool to protect our Arctic waters year round. Instead of being excluded from AUKUS, we'd probably be sitting at the CAUKUS table discussing how a new Canadian nuclear submarine fleet could contribute to security and defence in the Indo-Pacific. These are 'what ifs', of course, but they are worth thinking about when we reflect on Mulroney's record and what it once looked like for Canada to have ambition in this field.

“Defence planning,” the 1987 white paper noted, “is by its very nature, long-term.” The same is true about the consequences of abandoning defence plans.