THE OUTSTANDING CANADIANS OF 1964

In most ways, it was a turbulent, anxious year. It was the year of bitter violence in Quebec, of the marathon flag debate and of the new drive to streamline our armed forces, the year when Hal Banks got away and when we finally found a way to bring our constitution home. In the midst of these crises, a few remarkable Canadians, in several fields, were pushing the country ahead and, by their excellence, were distinguishing all of Canada. It is these men - and a Queen - whom Maclean's here celebrates as deserving the special approbation of their fellow citizens

January 2 1965

THE OUTSTANDING CANADIANS OF 1964

In most ways, it was a turbulent, anxious year. It was the year of bitter violence in Quebec, of the marathon flag debate and of the new drive to streamline our armed forces, the year when Hal Banks got away and when we finally found a way to bring our constitution home. In the midst of these crises, a few remarkable Canadians, in several fields, were pushing the country ahead and, by their excellence, were distinguishing all of Canada. It is these men - and a Queen - whom Maclean's here celebrates as deserving the special approbation of their fellow citizens

January 2 1965

THE OUTSTANDING CANADIANS OF 1964

In most ways, it was a turbulent, anxious year. It was the year of bitter violence in Quebec, of the marathon flag debate and of the new drive to streamline our armed forces, the year when Hal Banks got away and when we finally found a way to bring our constitution home. In the midst of these crises, a few remarkable Canadians, in several fields, were pushing the country ahead and, by their excellence, were distinguishing all of Canada. It is these men - and a Queen - whom Maclean's here celebrates as deserving the special approbation of their fellow citizens

“TRUE PATRIOTISM does not exclude an understanding of the patriotism of others.”

This sentence, spoken in French in Quebec City on Black Saturday, October 10, 1964,

came not from a native Canadian, but from

the Queen of Canada, Elizabeth II. Her speech, delivered to the Quebec legislature that day when all of Canada stood diminished in the eyes of its own citizens, remains the most wise and hopeful statement to arise from the troubled royal visit. The speech was drafted hy her hosts, but was rewritten by the Queen herself to ensure that her words conveyed what it was in her heart to say to all her Canadian subjects.

dynamic state should not fear to rethink its political philosophy,” she told us. “It is not surprising that an agreement drawn one hundred years ago doesn’t necessarily respond to all the problems of the day.”

That the Queen came to her Canadian domain at all in 1964 was an act of considerable courage. That she contributed to her visit, not merely the grace and elegance that

have been the hallmarks of her reign, but also

the mature counsel of a concerned sovereign, was an act of genuine majesty.

ELIZABETH II

In the weeks before her arrival, something ominous hung over the whole country. The fear of an insult to the Queen, even a tragedy, however remote, was not far from the thoughts of every Canadian. It must also have concerned the Queen. The country’s apprehension was reflected on the day of Her Majesty's arrival when the royal limousine sped through Summerside, P.E.I., so rapidly that the Islanders could barely glimpse the Queen.

By the time she reached Quebec City, the Queen was visibly nervous. Still, she conducted herself with royal dignity. She distinguished the crown, and Canadians admired her, whatever their feelings about crowns and national ties. We felt inspired by her example and shamed by the actions of a few of our fellow countrymen.

In Ottawa, Canadians tried to show her how admiring and inspired we were. The Queen's reception there was lusty, good-natured and respectful. She responded graciously. Then, her fourth visit to Canada, and by far her most significant, was over.

“She’s a great Queen!” Prime Minister Pearson said for us all the day she left.

ON THE LAST DAY of the third session of the Ecumenical Council Vatican II, on November 20, 1964, a sharp disagreement between progressive and conservative prelates obscured the passage that day of a declaration that will be remembered long after the disagreement is forgotten and that will profoundly influence the movement of the Christian world toward the ultimate goal of church unity. The declaration — to become part of the schema "De Ecclesia” (“On the Church") — absolved the Jewish people of the centuries-old charge that they were responsible for Christ’s crucifixion, and the council, by endorsing the declaration overwhelmingly, furnished Christians and Jews with an essential weapon against anti-Semitism and underlined the church's continuing adjustment to the realities of the twentieth century.

The declaration on the Jews was prepared for the council by a special secretariat on Christian Unity, and more particularly it bore the imprint of one of the secretariat’s leading members, the Reverend Gregory Baum of St. Michael’s College, Toronto.

Father Baum’s impact on the ecumenical movement wasn't confined, in 1964, to his role on the secretariat. He was, besides, a theological adviser at the council, required to be present at all its sessions; founder and director of the Centre For Ecumenical Studies, in Toronto; council reporter for Commonweal, a liberal Catholic journal; a major contributor to the book Contraception And Holiness, an important statement of Catholic progressives on birth control; and editor and chief contributor for The Ecumenist, an influential magazine that is circulated to 75,000 Protestants and Catholics.

Father Baum’s background makes him peculiarly equipped to take a lead in the ecumenical dialogue. He was born of Jewish parents in Berlin and first saw Canada, as a sixteen-year-old, from the inside of a World War II detention camp. He was an agnostic, studying physics at McMaster, a Protestant university in Ontario, when he was attracted to Catholicism.

And in the years since his conversion, he has become, as the United Church Observer recently pointed out, “the most dynamic expression in Canada of the new mood in the Catholic Church.”

NINETEEN-SIXTY-FOUR was the year when our young athletes performed with the dedication and flair that Canadians had always expected from them, hut in recent years seldom received. Our Olympic competitors — Jerome; Crothers; the bobsled team; the paddlers Jackson and Hungerford — brought home medals and glory. Our young football players began, in larger numbers than ever before, to play with vigorous talent equal to that of the Americans who have always dominated our leagues. Even our animal athletes enjoyed unprecedented success — Northern Dancer won the Derby, the Preakness, the Queen’s Plate, and more money than any Canadian horse ever had, and then, sadly, was retired to stud with an injured leg.

But the athlete who, more than any other, performed in 1964 with the qualities that we most value in sport — skill, leadership, sportsmanship — and who most merited recognition beyond the sports pages was a professional hockey player: Jean Beliveau of the Montreal Canadiens.

In Canada’s national sport, no player has enjoyed a career as charmed as Beliveau’s. He won more fame as an amateur than most Na-

tional League players do in a lifetime. As a professional, he became — almost effortlessly, it sometimes seemed — the best offensive centre in the history of hockey and an important member of the colorful Montreal championship teams of the late 1950s, the teams of Harvey, Plante, Geoffrion, Moore and the Richards.

In 1964 most of the great Canadien players were retired, traded, injured or in the declining years of their careers. Beliveau himself had experienced a disappointing 1963 season, at least by his considerable standards, and had thought of retiring. Montreal was a team ot rookies and little hope in 1964. But Beliveau responded with a brilliant season and, for the young men who played beside him, with an inspirational season. Montreal won the league championship, and Beliveau won the Hart trophy, the NHL’s official recognition as the most valuable player in the world's best league.

Jean Beliveau, a superbly gifted athlete and a modest, sensible man, in the best traditions of hockey, brought a professional excellence to sport in 1964 that Canadians, who couldn’t agree on much else last year, unanimously recognized and appreciated.

THE MOST SOLID, significant and, to other Western Alliance countries, the most envied accomplishment of our federal government in 1964 was engineered by Paul Theodore Hellyer, minister of national defense. Hellyer achieved during the year what American Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara, for one, has still failed to achieve — integration of the armed forces.

Integration means one commander-in-chief who can issue orders, not requests, to every Canadian in uniform. It means an end to the waste-producing triplication of administrative services—three sets of paymasters, accountants, purchasing agents, public-relations men, even chaplain services, for three armed forces. In future Canada will have one armed service with one administration.

The change has made it possible for Hellyer to reduce our defense budget $109 million below the 1963 figure, and at the same time to find the dollars for long-needed new equipment by redirecting $100 million from personnel and maintenance costs to capital outlays. Canadian armed services have, in one stroke, acquired a greater striking force for less money.

What is more remarkable is that the revolutionary change, delayed in many countries for fear it would turn into a political boomerang, has been carried out by Hellyer to the accompaniment of a nearly unanimous chorus of praise. The defense minister, in the best military tradition, prepared his ground carefully. When the Commons defense committee made its report, its members, regardless of party affiliation, had been convinced of the wisdom of Hcllyer's program. The three services could marshal no case against it. By the time Hellyer brought down his White Paper, preparatory to the actual legislation, it was obvious that integration would be a popular as well as a rational move, and it has now gone into effect with the endorsement, in some cases, even of the officers who will be retired by it.

As an exercise in both political and military strategy, the integration program has been a thorough success — and it gives Paul Hellyer a higher batting average for 1964 than any other politician in Canada.

CANADIAN ARCHITECTS might have been excused a mild persecution complex a few years ago. In the midst of a building boom that was at last beginning to redecorate and enliven the ugly townscapcs of Canada’s cities, the choicest assignments for architects were falling to foreign firms. New York's I.M. Pei Associates designed the Place Ville Marie in Montreal; a Finn, the late Viljo Rewell, won the Toronto city hall competition; Minoru Yamasaki, of Detroit, prepared the plans for the vast and magnificent Wascana Centre of Regina.

But in 1964 with a series of vigorous elegant buildings they built or planned, one team of Montreal architects (a team so close-knit that they declined to pose for Macleans photographer except as a team, and so democratic that they list their names on the firm's letterhead in alphabetical order) helped restore the national pride of the profession — and gave the urban scenery of several Canadian cities their most distinguished landmarks. The five partners, standing above outside the Place des Arts, one of their loveliest designs, are Guy Desbarats, Fred Lebensold, Hazen Sise, Raymond Affleck and Dimitri Dimakopoulos. They came together in 1954, and have put their distinctive mark on such structures as Vancouver’s Queen Elizabeth Theatre, Montreal's St. George Greek

Orthodox Cathedral, and McGill University’s Leacock Building and New University Centre.

Last year, in 1964, the partners reached their peak of achievement. In Charlottetown in October the Queen opened their Confederation Centre, an austere complex of buildings for the arts. Earlier in the year the firm unveiled its designs — to the nearly unanimous applause of the Canadians who must live with the finished buildings — for Ottawa’s Centre For The Performing Arts and Montreal’s Place Bonaventure, a unique assembly of manufacturers’ showrooms and exhibition halls. Recently the firm began work on two theme buildings for Expo 67, and won a prized Massey Silver Medal for its majestic St. Gérard Majella Church of St. Jean, Que.

All the firm’s buildings are the result of a collective conceptual design process in which the five partners participate, and they reflect the' partnérs’ deliberate efforts to steer away from popular design in favor of a contemporary sculptured look. The buildings also reflect what the firm calls its “passionate concern with civic architecture, with buildings that really display a pride in the community.”

In 1964 this attitude, especially from Canada’s most public artists, seemed precisely what the country needed. ★