Canadian Secrecy

No German troops were mobilized along Canada's border last week, no Canadian cities had been bombed, and only by the remotest flight of fancy could alarmists see the Dominion as a battleground. But life in Canada went on under a haze of Governmental silence as profound as if an alien army had been camped before the gates of Ottawa.

More rigorous than in Great Britain itself, Canadian censorship was comparable only to the strict wartime supervision of the press in France. Under its sweeping regulations the Minister of National Defense had power to take over all communications. Forbidden was any "adverse or unfavorable statement . . . likely to prejudice the defense of Canada" or prosecution of the war. Even weather reports were no longer published.

Not yet in force were censorship's more drastic provisions. Newsmen were not required to submit stories to the censor before publication, but--as in Germany--they were held personally responsible to the Government for what they wrote. For printing unwelcome news they could be fined $5,000, sentenced to five years in jail at hard labor.

So far these regulations have been lightly administered by genial, mountainous Director of Censorship Walter Scott Thompson. Born in England, Director Thompson was a newspaperman himself (as a correspondent for various London journals he covered assignments in South Africa, Australia, the South Sea Islands) before he went to Canada in 1911, became an official pressagent for the Dominion's railways, steamships, hotels. It was Walter Thompson who took charge of publicity for the Royal Visit of King George and Queen Elizabeth last spring.

But what irked correspondents most was not censorship: it was the dark fog of secrecy in which the Government carried on its war. When war began, Canada set up a Bureau of Information to handle official news, then suddenly abandoned it, let each Government department appoint its own press officers. Prime Minister Mackenzie King, who had never liked press conferences anyhow (he once complained: "My every word is seized upon!"), promptly abolished them.

For ten weeks no correspondent has seen the Prime Minister. Only official statements about the war that Canadians hear regularly are broadcast by an anonymous spokesman of the Department of National Defense. In a dull, flat, impersonal monotone he tells the public what its Government is doing.

Last fortnight Canada prohibited sales of two U. S. journals: Jew-baiting Father Charles Edward Coughlin's Social Justice, the picture magazine Look. (Already banned was the Communist New Masses.) Similar moves against 20 other U. S. magazines were rumored.

Likely reason for the ban on Social Justice: in recent issues it fulminated against "international gold-capitalists," defended totalitarian economy, espoused the Nazi claim that Athenia was sunk by the British.

Likely reason for the ban on Look: it reprinted phony atrocity pictures of World War I to remind people how war spirit was whipped up. This might come under the head of reports "likely to prejudice the recruiting, training, discipline or administration . . . of His Majesty's forces."

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