In Canada as in the other Dominions the problem of bringing the military forces into relation with the forces of other parts of the Empire was solved without any sacrifice of the principle of self-government in command or administration. After 1902 little was heard of the proposal to give the British War Office control over a section of the troops of each Dominion. Matters moved rather in the direction of co-operative action. In 1907 it was arranged that each of the larger Dominions should organize a General Staff to act in close touch and to exchange officers with the newly reorganized Imperial General Staff. It followed that equipment and administration became largely uniform. In 1909, and again in 1911, further steps were taken to secure effective co-operation between the General Staffs.
Naval defence proved a harder problem to solve. A beginning was made. The fishery-cruiser service was extended. In 1905 the Dominion took over the garrisons at the naval bases of Halifax and Esquimalt. The minister of Marine, Mr Prefontaine, took some steps towards the organization of a Naval Reserve, but with his death (1905) the movement ceased. The belief in Britain's unquestioned supremacy, a reluctance to enter 'the vortex of European militarism,' the survival of passive colonialism, kept the vast majority of Canadians indifferent. And, though a persistent minority of enthusiasts called on the country to awake, the unwillingness of the British authorities to sanction Dominion action along national lines blocked the most promising path.
By much effort all the self-governing colonies except Canada had been induced to send annual cheques to the Admiralty. But the total amount was negligible, and no permanent results had been achieved. After fifteen years of contribution not a single Australian had been trained as a sailor. At last, opinion in the Commonwealth took decided shape and demanded immediate national action—demanded the creation of a Royal Australian Navy.
Heretofore Canada had blazed the trail that led from colonialism to nationhood. Now Australia took the lead. The reasons were clear. Canada's chief neighbour was the United States—on the whole, not a militarist country—and there was little fear of military aggression. But commercial intercourse with this neighbour, along a frontier of three thousand miles, was close and constant, making it necessary for Canada to take into her own hands the control of commercial relations. Australia had no such overshadowing commercial relations with any power, but had neighbours in the Pacific—the colonies of aggressive European states, first France and later Germany, and the teeming and awakening powers of Asia—which gave urgency to the question of defence. A Commonwealth which ruled a dependency of its own, in Papua, and shared dominion of the world's second greatest island with imperial Germany (nowhere except in this anomalous, precedent-defying British Empire could any one have dreamt of 'the colony of a colony'), could not long remain indifferent to naval defence. For twenty years discussion of the issue had gone on in Australia, clarifying and precipitating opinion. It was no wonder that Canada, which tried to concentrate the same discussion into four or five years, years of great economic pressure, proved more confused in opinion and less unanimous in action.
At the Conference of 1907 the Admiralty modified its former policy and suggested that instead of a money contribution any Dominion might 'provide for local service in the imperial squadrons the smaller vessels that are useful for defence against possible raids or for co-operation with a squadron.' The prime minister of Australia, Mr Deakin, welcomed the proposal as a step forward, but on his return to Australia it was still found impossible to reconcile the national aspirations of the Commonwealth and the desire of the Admiralty to control all ships, however provided, and no definite action followed. Canada for the present remained content, having extended the fishery service and garrisoned with her own troops Halifax and Esquimalt. Both parties in Canada agreed in giving no attention to the question. During the general elections which followed shortly after the Conference of 1907, neither Sir Wilfrid Laurier nor Mr Borden said one word about naval defence. Nothing but a dramatic crisis would rouse the people to give the support necessary to enable either leader to take a decided stand.
The Kaiser provided the crisis. During 1908 and 1909 cries of alarm over the growth of the German navy awoke the United Kingdom and found echoes in Canada. It appeared that Britain's margin of safety was being dangerously lessened, that the Mistress of the Seas had been challenged. The British House of Commons voted eight additional Dreadnoughts and the Admiralty continued to withdraw ships from the ends of the earth and to concentrate the fleet in the North Sea.
Since the eighties international affairs had shown increasing tension. In Europe the struggle for national freedom, which marked the previous era, had in many cases been perverted into an endeavour to impose one nation's will upon another. Not only did France cherish the memory of Alsace-Lorraine; not only did Italy dream of her lost provinces; not only did the Balkan states plot to complete the half-done task of driving out the Turk; but the German Austrian sought to dominate the Magyar and the Magyar the Slav, while Italy swelled with visions of the Eastern Mediterranean once more a Roman lake, and Pan-German and Pan-Slav drew and re-drew the map of Europe to their liking.
But it was not in Europe alone that these nations sought expansion. The belief that empire overseas was necessary to national greatness, and that sea-power was the means to that end, spread through Continental Europe. During the thirty years following 1880 France added three and a half million square miles to her colonial possessions, Germany a million, and Italy a quarter-million. Even the United States was carried away by the current, and Great Britain, already the greatest of colonial powers, picked up nearly four million square miles more. Europe's aggression stirred sleeping Asia, and Japan gave promise of beating her teachers at their own game. This hasty parcelling out of the non-white world brought friction and often threatened war. For years a conflict with Russia was believed inevitable in England. Then France became the inevitable foe. Next Germany took up the rôle. Though felt at fewer points, her rivalry was more serious. A state with the ideals of mediaeval feudalism and the might of a modern industrial nation—with all the wealth and organizing power of industry and science at the disposal of a monarchy based on 'divine right,' and a military aristocracy which moulded and mastered the nation through control of school and press and army—was a constant danger to its neighbours. Germany's aims were more aggressive than those of the western democracies, and its methods were more efficient than those of other European states of no higher ideals. True, the democratic and anti-militarist forces were gaining ground in Germany itself, while elsewhere the folly and waste of militarism were rousing unprecedented efforts towards peace. But no way out was found. It was clearly impossible for one state to disarm while its neighbours armed to the teeth. A few fitful efforts, in which Great Britain took an honourable part, to bring about a concerted halt came to nothing. The world appeared convinced that the only statesmanlike way to avert war was for each state or group of states to make itself stronger than every other state or group. The war of armaments went on unchecked. Europe slept on a powder-mine.
In every Dominion the new sense of peril stirred instant response. If Britain's rivals had counted on the Dominions holding aloof in the hour of her need, or had held their resources negligible, they were speedily awakened. In Australia, in New Zealand, in South Africa, and in Canada, press and parliament voiced the new realization of danger and the new determination to face it more effectively.