Georges and Pauline Vanier, Volume 14 #1

Vice-Regal Couple Inspired Canadians

For six years in the l960s Canadians elected minority governments--the first such extended period of political instability since before Confederation. A difficult recession, the rise of violent separatism in Quebec, militancies that split traditional parties and created Créditistes, strong pressures from nervous allies in Asia, western Europe and the United States--all these put pressure and strain on the Canadian experience. The blessing--for there was one--was in the office of the Governor General.

Georges Vanier was a much decorated war hero turned esteemed diplomat, his wife Pauline a lively, outgoing woman of extraordinary vitality. They won the admiration and affection of Canadians, Georges for his deft handling of problems and his concern for the poor and humble; Pauline for her tremendous spiritual energy and the dazzling smile that gave a heightened sense of self to everyone she met. They were a close-knit couple obviously enjoying and understanding each other. "We always think of them together" became a phrase often repeated by their many friends.

With Lester Pearson, the governor general renewed the dormant constitutional practice of regular scheduled visits to his office by the prime minister. Also, in his gentle but very firm way he often exercised his "right to advise" the prime minister, notably pressing him towards the abolition of capital punishment in 1967.

In June 1964, the Vaniers organized what would become one of their main legacies: the Canadian Conference on the Family, which drew some 300 scholars and experts to Rideau Hall. Out of the deliberation of those specialists, the Vanier Institute of the Family was born. Ever since, it has aided parents in need of counsel and helped deepen our understanding of the vital importance of the quality of family life. "A close look at the family in Canada," Georges observed, "could help more people to find the warmth and delight we found ourselves."

The governor general and his wife impressed by what they did. But much more, they inspired because of who they were.

Compassion was perhaps the main quality they shared. In Georges it went back to experiences as a young officer in the First World War. For Pauline, born to privilege and wealth, compassion went back to an early visit to the Montreal slums and a sharp lesson from her mother that wealth was entrusted to her as a gift for others.

For both the Vaniers, compassion was nurtured by their experience as diplomats during the Second World War. One of Georges's main concerns was to assist refugees, particularly Jewish victims of the Nazis, and find new homes for them in Canada. Pauline's care was to provide immediate aid and sustenance, often in the Vaniers' own quarters. After the liberation of Paris in 1944, she created a haven of comfort and reassurance for tortured maquisards, wounded soldiers and orphaned children in the apartment requisitioned for the Canadians in the Hôtel Vendôme. Georges visited Buchenwald and broadcast an indignant and moving reaction back to Canada. "Tonight," commented one reporter, "you put Christ on the airwaves."

The Vaniers' compassion was rooted in a deeply spiritual experience. At the time of their return to Paris in 1944 they began to set aside a daily half hour of prayer together in addition to Mass and Communion. Despite the commitments of a very draining public life, they developed a habit of meditation close to that of monks, martyrs and mystics. Their prayer was the wellspring of Georges's deep sensitivity to the needs of others and his marvellous capacity for passing easily in his conversation from ordinary subjects to profound truths of the spirit. "Have you ever seen the Vaniers at prayer?" asked a noted Canadian journalist in 1967. "They are utterly rapt. Their whole hearts and minds are in a deep communication with God. Some say God is dead. How absurd. If God is dead, with whom are the Vaniers talking?"

Above all, the Vaniers gave the 1960s a vision of hope. In his last public utterance, three days before his death in 1967, Georges summed it up: "One often hears the cries of distress of those who long for what they call the good old times, but I tell you the good times are now. The best time is always the present time, because it alone offers the opportunity for action, because it is ours, because on God's scale it is apocalyptic." A year or so later, a student who had been observing Pauline's energy and joy for several days confided, "She shows that being religious can be fun." By the end of the decade the blessing of their moral insight was obvious, and the Vaniers had become, in the words of Michael Valpy, "one of the noblest symbols of the Canadian journey."

Jacques Monet SJ is a historian, president of the University of Sudbury and director of the Canadian Institute of Jesuit Studies.