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Analysing recognition multidirectionally: Canada, United Nations membership, and the Algerian question

Published online by Cambridge University Press:  25 November 2025

Caroline Elizabeth Dunton*
Affiliation:
Centre for International and Defence Policy, Queen’s University, Kingston, ON, Canada
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Abstract

The process of admitting new members to the United Nations has historically been contentious and contradictory. This paper examines new membership through the lens of recognition, focusing on the historical case of Canada’s role in this debate between 1955 and 1962. Canada led the initiative to grant membership to 16 members in 1955 and supported new membership for 17 others (including former French colonies) in 1960. Simultaneously, it opposed resolutions in the UN General Assembly supporting Algerian independence from France . The concept of recognition helps explain this inconsistency, while this case also reveals much about recognition itself. I argue that recognition, both thick and thin, can be multidirectional, in that granting recognition to another state is part of that state’s own struggle for recognition. In 1955 and 1960, Canada granted thin recognition to new members, which had implications for its own struggle for thick recognition. With Algerian independence, this was a debate about thick recognition for Algeria and for France; Canada’s complex struggle for thick recognition also drove its resistance to recognizing Algeria.

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Membership of the United Nations (UN) has increased from 51 members in 1945 to 193 at the time of writing, and much of this growth can be attributed to decolonization . However, the process of gaining new membership has not been straightforward for many of these member states. Some states applied repeatedly; others were accepted on their first attempt. Throughout the UN’s lifetime, many existing member states have been willing to accept some new members but not others. Similarly – and relatedly – many existing member states have been inconsistent in their support for anti-colonial struggles. Canada is one such state, having supported certain claims to statehood and/or UN membership but not others. While some variation or political inconsistency may be expected, in the period from 1955 to 1962 the state simultaneously pursued contradictory policies on membership and colonialism, especially French colonialism. Canada took a leadership role on membership for 16 states in 1955, and openly supported it for 17 in 1960. In both years, many new states resulted from decolonization; in the latter, 13 new states won independence from France. Yet while openly supporting such decolonization and the breakup of French empire – and touting itself as liberal and constructive on decolonization in general – it did not support efforts to bring Algerian independence onto the UN’s agenda, instead maintaining a policy of solidarity with France.

This puzzle can be understood through the concept of recognition; in turn, it can illuminate much about that concept itself. Recognition, which can be thin or thick, allows us to see a logical thread in Canada’s policies. Thin recognition is a simple acknowledgement of the applicant’s being a state, whereas thick recognition is a larger question of whether an actor’s identity is projected back to them through relations and processes. In this paper, I make a two-part argument using a historical IR approach. First, using a relational ontology of recognition, I argue that recognition can be multidirectional, not just a binary of one state recognizing another. Often, the act of granting recognition is interconnected with that state’s own struggle for recognition, which it may be seeking amongst multiple actors. Much of the existing literature for recognition focuses on only why a state might seek recognition, but this paper is concerned with why a state might grant it and how that is related to its own quests. Second, in support of this first argument, I argue that from 1955 to 1962, Canada supported attempts by other states to achieve thin recognition in the form of UN membership. In doing so, Canada often sought its own thick recognition, wanting a particular view of itself as helpful, liberal, and cooperative to be affirmed. This took multiple forms, as liberalism underwrites both Canada’s international identity and its domestic identity, including forming the foundation of its French–English linguistic-cultural identity. However, Canada was hesitant to grant thick recognition in the face of decolonization, as this challenged its own Cold War priorities and would call into question its identity and struggles for thick recognition, especially vis-à-vis NATO membership and its linguistic divide. This paper therefore contributes to the concept of recognition by (a) empirically illustrating both the relationship and differences between thick and thin recognition; (b) focusing on the process of granting it; and (c) demonstrating its multidirectionality in practice.

I begin with elaborating the concept of recognition before discussing key insights from international history on Canada and the UN. Next, I discuss Canada’s support of thin recognition and UN membership, including the negotiations of 16 members in 1955 and 17 in 1960. Finally, I turn to thick recognition, focusing on Canada’s opposition to the Algerian struggle for independence at the UN. In both cases, granting thin and thick recognition was a multidirectional process wherein the granting state’s struggle for thick recognition was part of the calculus. I use English and French primary source material from the Jules Léger Library, the Documents on Canadian External Relations (DCER), the UN Archives, and the Dag Hammarskjold Library. Full document details are in the Appendix, with footnotes throughout to the Appendix’s corresponding document numbers. The DCER is cited as A, the Jules Léger Library as B, the Dag Hammarskjold Library as C, and the UN Archives as D. An additional document from the International Court of Justice is labelled E.

Recognition

Recognition is a core concept in both International Law (IL) and International Relations (IR). This section articulates my contribution to the concept: the importance of understanding thick and thin recognition multidirectionally. In IR, recognition is also a foundational puzzle piece for other concepts, including identity, status, and hierarchy.Footnote 1 Recognition is the process of being seen and acknowledged by others. It is through recognition that identity is validated, and it is through social interaction that recognition takes place: ‘only as recognized can we conclusively come to establish an identity … yet recognition is rarely automatic and before we gain it we are often required to prove that our interpretations of ourselves indeed do fit’.Footnote 2 Recognition has two forms: thick and thin. Thin recognition is generally the acknowledgement that a state is or is not a stateFootnote 3 and frequently includes legal, diplomatic recognition. This often focuses on whether a state is ‘sovereign or not’.Footnote 4 Thick recognition goes beyond the existential questions and involves a deeper validation of identity.Footnote 5

Importantly, I conceptualize UN membership as thin recognition. UN membership is not synonymous with or the same as formal legal recognitionFootnote 6 in IL, though legal recognition would be thin recognition in IR.Footnote 7 This difference is affirmed in IL scholarship, wherein there is a practical separation between membership or participation in treaty procedures and the ‘substantive law of statehood’.Footnote 8 Outside the bounds of IL, UN membership is a form of thin recognition that acknowledges a state as a member of the UN community: ‘admission as a member has been very important as a sign of recognized statehood’.Footnote 9 It follows legal recognition, which often follows various claims to and struggles for statehood. This can sometimes lead to a recognition limbo in periods of decolonial struggle,Footnote 10 where thin recognition through membership is not clear but there may be larger debates about identity of decolonial actors or their validity as subjects of international action – this is where thick recognition often becomes salient. Caspersen also identifies similar fuzzy spaces with interim agreements on self-determination for independence movements, pointing out that ‘international recognition does not depend on empirical sovereignty’.Footnote 11

As thin recognition, UN membership grants specific privileges and responsibilities to a member that may make it subject to specific legal frameworks and obligations, but it is not equal to legal recognition. Notably, it is also different from collective recognition, where an organization or regional parliament recognizes a state. However, organizations can influence the intra-organizational politics of recognition.Footnote 12 UN membership requires affirmative recommendation at the Security Council (UNSC) (at least 9/15 members voting yes with no vetoes) for a vote at the General Assembly, which then requires a 2/3 majority to grant membership.Footnote 13 As thin, political recognition, UN membership shares a characteristic with legal recognition, in that such recognition is shared with a community of equals as a basic sense of subjectivity.Footnote 14

Bartelson notes the difficulty in separating political and legal recognition,Footnote 15 which is indeed true, and echoed by Gustafsson who offers insight on ‘recognizing’ recognition for empirical purposes.Footnote 16 Importantly, the voting process for UN membership is an observable form of thin, political recognition where states cast a vote to recognize membership. Since it is clearly observable, it is ripe to operationalize theoretically and to compare to thick recognition.

I take a relational approach where actors are co-constituted through relations. Ontologically, I focus on processes and mechanisms and do not see actors as fixed or delineated;Footnote 17 rather the struggles for recognition are part of their constant constitutive and reproductive process over time. I argue that the constitution of identity and the struggle for – and claims to – recognition, both thick and thin, are built out of social interactions over time, and are co-constitutive with international order. This builds on Kessler and Herborth’s claim that recognition is intersubjective and that the struggle for subjectivity relies on interaction with others.Footnote 18 In fact, the process of decolonization is indeed a process of interaction by which actors come to be through the struggle for recognition. Therefore, I see recognition not as a box to check, even in its thin form, but rather a processFootnote 19 of interaction and identity. In this case, although it is thin, UN membership is built through a process inscribed in the Charter that requires diplomacy and voting.

This bears similarity to the claim that declarations of independence are ritualistic, as performances of statehood and claims to recognition.Footnote 20 Like applications for UN membership, they have a communicative purpose in the pursuit of a form of thin recognition that can be granted or denied. Similarly, in an intersubjective perspective, thick recognition may be built on competing narratives of self and other, where narrative histories shape claims to statehood.Footnote 21 Narrative is essential to recognition through its relationship to identity, as identity is changed through both recognition and misrecognition.Footnote 22

Thick recognition concerns ‘inter-subjective human negotiations and struggles over identity’.Footnote 23 It can encompass diplomatic negotiation and demands, active, protracted conflicts, and/or ‘frozen’ conflicts. For Algeria, seeking recognition in the UN context was not simply about the end point of statehood and UN membership. The independence movement first sought inscription on the General Assembly’s agenda as a legitimate issue of international concern – it sought to be collectively recognized in UN debate as one of two actors (Algeria and France) in an international conflict rather than to be declared a French domestic conflict outside the UN’s mandate. The former recognized a narrative of the Algerian independence movement as the efforts of a legitimate actor seeking statehood and the other erased it, doubling down on Algeria’s subjugation. There was thus a two-part political negotiation for recognition, through both armed and diplomatic struggle simultaneously. Unlike the process for states who sought recognition in the UN after their independence (thin recognition), the Algerian recognition process took place in multiple locales over time and included multiple demands for the recognition of Algeria’s identity in the diplomatic space during that process.

Thick recognition demands that an identity be recognized and can encompass ‘multiple social-relational and non-dualistic forms of recognition that result from the actors’ aggregation of inter/transnational interactions and dealings’.Footnote 24 Fernández-Molina’s argument that recognition includes Honneth’s dimensions of love, respect, and self-esteem is essential to understanding thick recognition.Footnote 25 Both the work of Allan and Keller and that of Greenhill also identify esteem specifically as a central part of thick recognitionFootnote 26 – it is esteem that corresponds to the idea of an equivalence between how an actor views itself and how it is treated.Footnote 27 This is a core, affective component of recognition. It is inherently relational and precisely the core of Algerian question – whether UN members could acknowledge it as a narrative of political struggle for statehood rather than simply a matter of domestic French politics.

Honneth’s seminal book builds on Hegel, forming what Fernández-Molina notes is one of two streams at the foundation of recognition theories.Footnote 28 The second is Taylor’s ‘politics of recognition’.Footnote 29 In her intellectual genealogy, Fernández-Molina notes that these two views have commonalities, including on the ability of collectives to seek recognition and the consequences of misrecognition.Footnote 30 Honneth’s recognition theory is especially valuable for this context because it allows for a multidimensional and rich view of thick recognition that captures ‘the subjectivity of the state and the social procedures that constitute it’.Footnote 31 Applying it to the case of Algeria allows one to view the long, intersubjective process of constituting statehood.

From this distinction of thick and thin recognition, I argue that recognition is multidirectional. States emerge through the pursuit of self-determination and the struggle for recognition amongst multiple audiences. Multiple relations are implicated in the processes of UN membership and struggles for statehood. Moreover, these pursuits of recognition are not created equally. Some states become states through social interaction of conquest, domination, and colonialism. Others struggle for independence, self-determination, and sovereign equality in resistance to domination. These struggles are essential to their core identity and are dependent on the other party, as colonizer or colonized. Bartelson argues that should recognition ‘become reciprocal between two or more parties, this is believed to transform both the identities of the actors as well as the terms of the interaction in significant ways’.Footnote 32

This paper asserts that recognition is not only reciprocal, it is multidirectional: the process of recognizing another actor can be part of one’s own struggle for recognition. Therefore, it is not just that the actor recognizing and the actor seeking recognition are transformed; it is that multiple audiences become implicated in multiple struggles for recognition simultaneously. If granting recognition is part of one’s own pursuit of recognition, then many dimensions of the identity of both actors are implicated. As I demonstrate, Canada’s enthusiasm for increased UN membership emerged from its own desire to be credibly seen as constructive. In adopting this position , it was not just considering its political relationship with the majority of members and balancing that with important individual relationships. Its decision to grant thin recognition hinged on how its own identity would be perceived by different communities of UN member states. On Algeria, the question of granting thick recognition hinged on Canada’s challenges with its own identity, both looking inwards and outwards to multiple relationships. Pursuits of recognition are actively interconnected; the granting of recognition implies multiple dimensions of identity, which may be more or less salient for different audiences. This view of recognition as having multiple dimensions and areas of uniqueness is consistent with both Honneth’s ‘esteem’ (in this case, recognition based on specific attributes or characteristics) and Taylor’s politics of differences.Footnote 33

Within international order, states are continuously struggling for recognition, a process which is never fully complete.Footnote 34 In this continuous struggle, misrecognition is frequent; states are always in the process of seeking recognition, especially thick recognition.Footnote 35 This is important for the argument that recognition is multidirectional – if misrecognition by others is constant, then states are continuously struggling to remedy that, including granting recognition to others. If both recognition and misrecognition are fundamental conditions of international life, then it is important to understand them as relational concepts, continually emerging from interlinked struggles. The act of granting recognition is inextricably tied to the granting state’s own pursuit of it, and these struggles shape order. Two issues emerge from this. The first is that not all audiences of multidirectional recognition are equal. States may prioritize different audiences based on different material, political, or social aspirations. They cannot treat all other actors as equally important; as Michelle Murray argues, attempts to achieve recognition are not perceived in the same way across actors.Footnote 36 Similarly, the social context of the international system and relationships with others can hinder the granting of recognition.Footnote 37 As such, multidirectional recognition is hierarchical – states make choices about priorities. As will be demonstrated later in this article, Canada prioritized different recognition audiences at different times in the period from 1955 to 1962.

The second issue is that international order is hierarchical. Although both legal recognition and UN membership are employed as tools to achieve sovereign equality, that equality does not emerge in practice.Footnote 38 Consequently, hierarchy is a fundamental feature of international order. Indeed, international organizations are built on such inequality, despite their best efforts. It is outside the scope of this paper to review the hierarchy literature in detail, but some points are crucial.

Many argue that the international system has become more democratic, inclusive, and cooperative as membership in international organizations has increased. However, Viola argues that as membership increases, new forms of hierarchy and exclusion – including sovereign inequality – also increase.Footnote 39 Moreover, recognition is self-reinforcing; states that have more recognition are likely to get more, exacerbating hierarchy and inequality of recognition.Footnote 40 Sovereign inequality – often rooted in colonialism – is therefore a frequent feature of international organizations.

It is through decolonization that ‘territories and peoples previously deprived of legal recognition’ have slowly come to be recognized as sovereign, albeit often only on European terms.Footnote 41 Yet despite these gains in legal recognition, hierarchy and inequality continue. It is no coincidence that this inequality exists in the UN, despite its membership increasing due to decolonization in the 20th century. Even in 2025, the struggle against colonialism has not yet succeeded in achieving equal recognition for all. So, whereas many see UN membership and the struggle for thin recognition as historical matters, many struggles for freedom, independence, and decolonization still involve claims for legal recognition that remain contested.

What made Algeria uniquely a case of thick recognition in the UN context is that it was a question of whether the war of independence should be on the UN agenda and as a result, who Algeria was – it was about recognizing Algeria as Algerian or as French. Its struggle for thick recognition was integral to the practice of multilateral diplomacy and the question of sovereign equality itself. As Connelly argues, the Algerian victory was not necessarily a military one but a diplomatic one: its most effective tactics were applied in a diplomatic context , especially at the UN.Footnote 42 By 1962, the Provisional Government of the Algerian Republic (GPRA) was a Cairo-based government-in-exile that had been negotiating in the Evian peace process with its French colonizers. The GPRA (Gouvernement provisoire de la République algérienne) effectively used the efforts of human rights and youth organizations, the international press, the Non-Aligned Movement, and its Afro-Asian allies to build an internationalist struggle for recognition.Footnote 43 Its campaign would shape the future direction of Third WorldismFootnote 44 and change the ways that both colonizers and independence movements fought.Footnote 45

Saeed identifies two narratives at the foundation of Algeria’s struggle for thick recognition in the UN setting. One was an internationalist discourse that drew upon the growing anti-colonial consciousness of the time and centred Algeria as part of an global movement.Footnote 46 The other was a ‘metrocentric civilizational’ discourse, which the French used to focus on the so-called benefits of colonialism and claim Algeria as the domestic sovereign territory of France, unlike its other colonies.Footnote 47 As such, UN debates about Algeria were about larger questions of how self-determination was changing in the postcolonial moment. A central question was whether Algeria was a ‘domestic’ issue for France or whether it was an issue of international peace and security that belonged on the UN agenda, which at its core was a debate about what Algeria was. Was Algeria a legitimate international subject for the UN? Or was its subjectivity subsumed by France? It also included the question of whether the GPRA could legitimately claim to control Algeria and who could represent the Algerian people if not France. These two narratives consistuted competing claims about thick recognition.

This struggle took place in the context of new UN members entering and the UN General Assembly passing numerous resolutions about self-determination. Building from this, my argument demonstrates that these issues of recognition were multidirectional. Canada’s resistance to recognizing the Algerian issue at the UN was bound up in its own struggle, wherein it was balancing an audience of actors – and relationships – with differing priorities vis-à-vis decolonization. For many years, Canada chose to support France’s recognition narrative, whereby Algeria was part of metropolitan France. This was contrary to the case of the new UN members that joined in 1955 and 1960, when Canada recognized members (even former French colonies) enthusiastically, at the expense of its relationship with the USA (and to a lesser degree, the UK and France). I now turn to a discussion of the UN, decolonization, and Canada.

The UN, Canada, and decolonization

The UN has historically been seen in binaristic terms as either entirely liberatory or completely colonial.Footnote 48 However, many now understand ‘the multifaceted roles that international organizations have played in decolonizing countries and how the dissolution of European empires has in turn affected the development of international organizations’.Footnote 49 As Tudor argues, UN practices such as peacekeeping during the Cold War reconstituted and recreated tools of colonialism via the bureaucrats and offices that undertook these tasks.Footnote 50 Like the UN itself, peacekeeping personnel embodied anti-communism, liberalism, and specific views of modernization. Webster echoes this in discussing the UN Technical Assistance Administration’s efforts to shield new states from communism.Footnote 51 Anti-communism in the UN was not only the product of American influence; rather, it emerged organically alongside decolonization through the power and politics – and bureaucracy – of the organization and its foundation in liberal internationalism.Footnote 52

Concurrently, the Global South used the UN for anti-colonial ends: ‘the liberal world order was largely predicated on an exclusionary system of politics and economics but … within it, Global South actors constantly sought to reconstitute this order to make it more equitable’.Footnote 53 This reflected the UN’s role both as an arena in which marginalized subjects could speakFootnote 54 and as playing a part in decolonization. As Getachew argues, this was not just about individual self-determination but a broader project of worldmaking by anglophone Black intellectuals using the UN’s tools to subvert it.Footnote 55 Moreover, despite the UN’s structural inequality, postcolonial states found many uses for the forum, establishing ‘foundational pillars of postcolonial internationalism’ and creating spaces to ‘[promote] anticolonial causes from within the structure of the UN’.Footnote 56 It was both an institution with its own pathologies and bureaucratic cultures, and a site of resistance, valued by the Third World as a means of pursuing independence, sovereignty, and recognition. The multidirectionality of the recognition process is demonstrated by the UN, as a site in which states’ struggles for recognition take place before multiple audiences and their self-determination is contested.

Canada’s position on decolonization was that the process was acceptable if it was non-violent, anti-communist, and could ‘proceed at a slow, Canadian pace’.Footnote 57 This paternalistic view was consistent with liberal internationalism’s global hierarchy and exclusionary approach to decolonization in that period, built on the idea that not all colonies were ready for independence yet.Footnote 58 Canada’s anti-communism was central in its approach to decolonization. It was indeed less staunch than American anti-communism, as Canada was much more open to non-alignment than the USA and had limited interest in supporting American-led regime change. However, it was strongly committed to keeping the Global South firmly out of the Soviet orbit.

Canada’s relations with newly independent states followed the policies of colonial powers. As Spooner notes, Britain even pressured Canada to ‘assist and recognize newly independent African states as part of a strategy to secure allegiance to the West’Footnote 59 following decolonization. Some Canadian officials saw this as disingenuous, but their commitment to anti-communism remained strong.Footnote 60 Canada was reluctant to take unilateral or autonomous action around recognition or decolonization processes without considering the positions of Britain and France. This extended to its relationship with the Netherlands when it came to Indonesian independence in the late 1940s.Footnote 61

In the UN, Canada’s view on decolonization was represented by its commitment to funding and staffing the organization, which it saw as an important tool for insulating the world against communism, preventing war, and encouraging economic prosperity and modernization. While many may have seen Canadian leadership – especially Lester B. Pearson’s – as naïve, Pearson saw a functional UN and effective multilateralism as being in Canada’s interest.Footnote 62 Liberal internationalism was central not only to the UN but also to Canadian identity at that time, which functionally meant that the Canadian diplomatic sense of self became increasingly bound up with the question of the UN’s effectiveness. Of course, liberal internationalism overlapped with imperialism and racial hierarchy, which ‘shaped debates within both the Commonwealth and the UN after 1945’,Footnote 63 as well as in Canada.

Canada’s responses to decolonization were, on the surface, mixed, despite its desire to be seen as constructive on the issue. Moreover, its attachment to the UN became increasingly connected to how it saw itself within international order. I now turn to Canada’s work on UN membership as a form of thin recognition. This case demonstrates both the multidirectional nature of recognition politics and how Canada’s granting of thin recognition was part of its own pursuit of thick recognition.

UN membership: 1955 and 1960

In 1955, 16 new members joined the UN, which was the first increase of that magnitude; they were followed by 17 more in 1960.Footnote 64 In this process, Canada sought recognition as a reliable multilateral partner, constructive on decolonization, a cooperative liberal internationalist, and an independent bridge between its allies, and the rest of the world. Yet Canada struggled to balance its relationship between the USA and the growing majority in the United Nations General Assembly (UNGA), amongst whom the USA was unpopular. Subsequently, in its pursuit of recognition as a cooperative leader, Canada was willing to risk rifts with the Americans. In 1955, Louis St. Laurent was Prime Minister (PM) and Lester B. Pearson was Secretary of State for External Affairs (SSEA). By 1960, John Diefenbaker was PM. Diefenbaker’s foreign policy was relatively similar to St. Laurent’s; he retained similar principles and senior diplomats. Both governments saw the UN as ‘the cornerstone’Footnote 65 of Canadian foreign policy, as an effective multilateral system was at the core of Canada’s interest.

By 1955, some states had had active applications since 1946.Footnote 66 Prior to 1955, the majority of Security Council members had voted against the applications of seven states. Another 14 were subject to Soviet veto (Table 1).Footnote 67 For those states that were newly independent, the Bandung Conference in 1955 was a push for Third World recognition, including UN membership.

Table 1. Membership Applications to the UN.

Canadian officials understood that not all states could be recognized as members but believed that compromise was possible. Moreover, while they did not believe that membership should be automatic, their position was that the West did not have to agree with a state’s politics to grant recognition. They believed that just because a state was communist, this did not mean it should not be a member;Footnote 68 recognizing a state was more likely to be productive than isolation.Footnote 69 Leading resistance to such isolation was central to Canada’s desire for influence at the UN. Canada was willing to stand in opposition to the USA.Footnote 70

After studying the issue in early 1955, Canadian officials prepared for the 10th annual session of the General Assembly (UNGA). Minister of Health Paul Martin led the delegation, as SSEA Pearson was on his inaugural visit to the Soviet Union.Footnote 71 Martin sought to “‘make a difference [by] … securing … national recognition’ of Canada”.Footnote 72 The delegation’s initial focus was on pushing the Permanent 5 towards compromise behind the scenes. Instructions to the delegation indicated that Canada supported the admission of all the applicants except the Koreas and Vietnams, hoping that the other applications could succeed.Footnote 73 Canadian officials became aware that the Soviet Union would support the admission of the main 17, based on insight they received from the Indian delegation in August 1955. The challenge would be convincing the USA, the UK, and France that a ‘package deal’ for all 17 was a politically advantageous solution.Footnote 74

American officials insisted that membership applications should be voted on individually. This stemmed from their bias towards legal interpretations of the Charter’s use of the phrase ‘peace-loving’ in Article 4. Therefore, they viewed Soviet satellite states as legally ineligible based on their own interpretation of the phrase. Canadian officials believed that since the world had changed since 1945, the Charter could be interpreted differently without violating it.Footnote 75 For them, a politically realistic move towards universality would be more productive for the functioning of the organization and global representation. This also reflected a Canadian judge’s dissent on a 1948 International Court of Justice advisory opinion surrounding Article 4 and membership.Footnote 76 Initially, Jules Léger, Under-Secretary of State for External Affairs (USS), suggested a compromise to SSEA Pearson wherein the Canadian delegation could propose an informal gentleman’s agreement. In the gentleman’s agreement, the P5 would agree to admit all 17. Following that, individual voting for recognition of all 17 states would take place.Footnote 77 Spain later submitted its application, bringing the number to 18.

In September 1955, Léger indicated that the USA was hesitant to move on the issue. Léger advised Pearson that when Secretary of State John Foster Dulles visited Ottawa, Pearson should broach the strategy of a gentleman’s agreement. Léger later provided advice for Pearson’s conversation with Dulles, informing him that if a Western-supported group of 17 were not put forward at UNGA, then Asian states might push the membership case for the seven newly independent states (the Bandung 7) alone, which would ‘upset the delicate balance between colonial and anti-colonial powers in several UN organs’.Footnote 78 Similarly, continued deadlock and a failure to recognize new members could ‘detract[…] from the prestige and importance of the UN as a world organization’.Footnote 79 This was an important matter for Canada, as its credibility and interests depended on the UN – for Canada to be seen as an effective multilateral state, the UN had to function.

In New York, Martin began meeting P5 delegations. By October 1955, he had begun drafting a resolution for the General Assembly to request the UNSC to act, as it was clear the P5 would not take action on their own. This resolution would pressure the UNSC to go through the Charter’s provisions. Like the Soviet Union, the UK was more amenable to new membership, whereas France resisted. Pearson explicitly expressed concern about France’s resistance, and anger that Afro-Asian members had put the issue of Algerian independence on the UNGA agenda.Footnote 80 Pearson and Martin agreed that while newly decolonized states would soon outnumber Western states in the UNGA, it was important that the UN ‘reflect the real world’.Footnote 81 In this context, it was important for Canada that the growing majority of new member states should view it positively.

On Martin’s draft resolution, Pearson insisted that the language around universality and qualification of membership be left vague in order to gather widespread support.Footnote 82 While drafting, officials discussed the choice of co-sponsors, which mattered for the substance of the resolution and the related perception of Canada. They adopted a careful approach to this process, and began by sharing the draft resolution with Commonwealth allies early. During October 1955, it became clear that most UNGA members would be in favour of admitting new states and that this could exert influence on UNSC members.Footnote 83 Recognition as a leader of this majority was important to Canada; however, there was still concern about P5 reactions.

Initially, Martin’s conversations with the Americans in New York were productive, despite American reservations. Pearson worried about approaching the French, insisting that it would be important ‘not to embarrass or isolate’ themFootnote 84 as they were sensitive about Algeria. British/Soviet support and French/American resistance would persist for some time, with some additional complications.Footnote 85 These included sensitivity around Spain’s application (due both to its history of neutrality and the authoritarian Franco regime) and Outer Mongolia’s (as the Republic of China claimed its territory while the Soviet Union recognized its independence).

Managing the P5 was consuming Martin and the delegation, who were calculating every step carefully, especially with the Americans. Most importantly, the delegation was bringing states onside who recognized the value of Canadian diplomacy on the issue. On 11 November 1955, the delegation wrote to Pearson indicating that ‘responsible delegations like the Scandinavians, the Australians, the Indians and Pakistanis and the Brazilians have agreed with us that the opportunity should not be lost’.Footnote 86 While Britain agreed,Footnote 87 France insisted that Algeria be removed from the UN agenda if they were to support the draft resolution, in response to which Martin made it clear that France could potentially find itself alone amongst the other P5.Footnote 88 While France and the US remained hesitant, it was clear that pressure was ramping up on the P5, as 22 members met as co-sponsors on 15 November 1955.Footnote 89 Intending to complete the draft resolution soon, Canada continued discussions with the P5 delegations.Footnote 90 Meanwhile, other states, including India and the Soviet Union, suggested collaborative amendments.Footnote 91

On 23 November 1955, progress faltered. Dulles ‘expressed with some vigour’ that Canada had not ‘adequately consulted’Footnote 92 the USA on the draft resolution, and felt that Canada was uncooperative. He insisted that he had only become aware of the resolution via General Franco. The Canadian embassy in Washington reminded Dulles that this was false, citing Martin’s consultations. Further, the Canadians were aware that Dulles had written to Harold Macmillan about the resolution.Footnote 93 However, Dulles admonished Canada,Footnote 94 as did his Ambassador in New York, suggesting that Canada was anti-American and that the relationship between the two countries could easily be harmed by American retaliation. Canadian officials had the choice of appeasing the Americans or continuing onwards. Martin and Pearson sought to continue, given the cross-UNGA support for the resolution and the goodwill that had developed across the Cold War divide. A diverse group of co-sponsors was growing, and many were new potential partners for Canada, relations with whom could help broaden Canadian engagement and visibility.Footnote 95

In late November 1955, the Americans remained hostile but agreed not to veto the entire package.Footnote 96 Canada–USA relations were weakened, with the Americans making economic threats.Footnote 97 Canada’s calculation was that it was a worthwhile policy decision to stick with the majority, however. As the UNSC debate developed, New Zealand held the Council presidency in December and began advocating on Canada’s behalf. On 8 December 1955, the UNGA passed the resolution urging the UNSC to consider membership for 18 countries. Fifty-two members voted in favour and two against.Footnote 98 It was the first time that the USA had been ‘so overtly forced to alter its policy’ in the face of clear, united opposition from nearly the entire General Assembly.Footnote 99 The UNSC convened and eventually, applicants were voted on individually. A full resolution passed. Per the Charter, the UNGA later approved a resolution submitted by Canada and its co-sponsors.Footnote 100 Sixteen states became UN members. The floodgates opened for further changes in the composition of the organization.Footnote 101

Martin’s determination was praised around the world. With ‘one of the most remarkable feats in the history of the General Assembly’,Footnote 102 Canada had achieved a victory through cooperation and compromise, and the result would become a key touchstone for its recognition as an effective and productive partner in the coming decades. Martin’s speech to the General Assembly portrayed Canada as an effective partner for all states, emphasizing the geographically diverse support for the resolution and arguing that the admission of new states would make the UN more representative.Footnote 103

The new membership would change the organization drastically. Secretary-General Dag Hammarskjold took immediate action, as the accession of 16 new members affected the machinery of the UN in more ways than just votes in the General Assembly. Requirements concerning office space, personnel and staffing, the leadership and capacity of UN bodies, workload, and information management would begin to increase immediately and would continue to do so in the future.Footnote 104 Equally important, questions about representation from a more inclusive UN would grow, leading to expansion of the Security Council and Charter reform in 1963.

At the UNGA 1960, 17 new members joined (Table 2).Footnote 105 Canada did not lead this process as it had in 1955, but it was involved in ‘a series of wider ranging discussions’ on decolonization questions in Africa led by the USA and the UK.Footnote 106 Canada was publicly proud to support the recognition of new members, with its statements demonstrating a similar sentiment to 1955. It sought to be recognized by a broad majority of members and on the forefront of change as a cooperative, liberal, reliable, leader in the UN. While it was still a close ally of imperial powers, it was interested in recognition by the majority for its contributions to that organization.

Table 2. New Members 1960.

* Independence from France

Thirteen states had recently achieved independence from France in 1960, during a critical period of French politics. The war in Algeria led to political changes and referendums, including the end of the Fourth Republic and the return of PM Charles de Gaulle. This sped up the independence process for other French colonies in Africa. Canada’s reluctance to break with France on Algeria contrasted with its speedy and enthusiastic recognition of other French African states.

These new members were also unique compared to previous new members. Rather than being admitted late in the session (i.e. as they had been in December 1955), 14 states were admitted on 20 September 1960, allowing them to participate in that year’s debates. Two more were admitted on 28 September, and the last one on 7 October 1960.Footnote 107 This meant that these new members had the privileges of UN membership immediately, which gave them a platform for anti-colonial activism.Footnote 108 This empowered the Afro-Asian bloc, allowing it a ‘critical margin’ to triumph over the ‘Western states’Footnote 109 on many issues. While it was ‘Africa’s year’,Footnote 110 this did not mean that all these states necessarily agreed with one another on the major UN agenda items – they were not a political monolith.Footnote 111 However, they did share a commitment to increasing their influence in the UN.Footnote 112

From the outset, the Canadian delegation was instructed to support the membership applicationsof all 17.Footnote 113 Canadian officials were fully aware of the change in the UN’s makeup; some thought that it could be a ‘problem’ for Western powers since non-Western states would now be the majority in the General Assembly. They also expressed concern that colonial powers would therefore pull away from the UN. In response, Canada’s Permanent Representative to the UN Charles Ritchie wrote to then-SSEA Howard Green that this could open up opportunities for Canada to cooperate with new members who may take non-aligned or independent positions. Ritchie argued against simply trying to convince the new members to take on the positions of their former colonial masters and the Americans.Footnote 114

Canada was interested in coalition-building, whereby it could be seen as a leader. PM Diefenbaker insisted that the UN would be better off moving in the direction of liberal equality. Thus, it was ‘better, then, to curry favour with new countries’Footnote 115 in order for them to recognize Canada as an effective partner, both for themselves and for the UN.

On 26 September 1960, Diefenbaker addressed the UNGA, following the admittance of 14 new UN members just days before. He welcomed the new members and indicated that existing members had a ‘responsibility’ to help the new ones.Footnote 116 Diefenbaker’s speech both commended new members and European colonial powers for granting independence and criticized the Soviet Union for holding onto its colonial territories.Footnote 117 He critiqued Soviet dominance as a growing form of imperialism in comparison to that of the Western powers, for whom he declared it was winding down. He also discussed Canada’s slow approach to decolonization, citing the importance of former British colonies staying within the ‘Commonwealth family’.Footnote 118

Diefenbaker made clear that in supporting new members, Canada supported expanding both the UNSC and the Economic and Social Council to make them more representative of the membership.Footnote 119 Canadian delegate Arthur R. Smith made similar remarks in November 1960, highlighting the inadequate representation of Afro-Asian members.Footnote 120 Canada’s efforts were strategic – by welcoming new members and describing itself as collaborative, liberal, and supportive of independence, Canada was both attempting to keep the new member states out of the sphere of communist influence and treading the fine line of collaborating with both the Global North and Global South. Moreover, as Canada participated in debates on expanding the Councils, the Soviet Union was incredibly resistant to the idea. Therefore, Canada could achieve recognition as a great Cold War ally and an advocate for Afro-Asian members.Footnote 121 Canada’s ‘wholehearted’ support of new membership and increased universality were representative of its larger vision for its relations with the Global South.Footnote 122 In working for thin recognition of new members, it was navigating its own place in the changing world, with the hope that others would share its view.

The Algerian War

The year 1954 was a critical one for French decolonization: key events included withdrawal from Indochina and the outbreak of war in Algeria. Algeria entered the UN’s purview at the 10th UNGA in 1955. It would remain contested there until 1962, as both sides in this conflict were highly attuned to UN politics and internationalized their fight diplomatically. States that allied themselves with the Front Libération Nationale (FLN) in Algeria

… fought tooth and nail at the UN to put pressure on France to decolonize Algeria. These allies took cues from the FLN’s strategic actions and wove them into elaborate narratives depicting the standpoint of Algerian revolutionaries. The aim was to draw on international legal norms to stringently contest France’s claim to Algerie française and advocate for Algerie algerienne. Footnote 123

Both sides in this war had multiple factions. The FLN had a rival in the Algerian National Movement (Mouvement National Algérien, or MNA),Footnote 124 and France had division between French settlers in Algeria and the mainland. What separated Algeria from other French colonies was that it was not simply part of the empire; it was a settler colony.Footnote 125 French settlers had lived in Algeria since 1830, and many saw themselves as having their own distinct identity, as they had diverged from France politically over the generations. Nevertheless, they still saw it as the ‘duty of France to not abandon them’ and maintain its occupation of the territory on which they resided.Footnote 126

Legally, Algeria was considered a part of metropolitan France, unlike the country’s other colonies. Its unique constitutional categorization led to its territorial inclusion as part of NATO in 1949, which irritated French allies. During NATO negotiations, France insisted that all its North African territories were to be included as protected territory under the treaty.Footnote 127 Canada and others were sternly opposed. PM St. Laurent and SSEA Pearson saw extraterritorial colonialism as ‘anachronistic’Footnote 128 and expressed concern about Canada’s ‘international image’Footnote 129 as they did not want NATO to be perceived as perpetuating European empire. However, with the prospect of the alliance collapsing without France (and given the importance of North Atlantic solidarity), Canada and others conceded that Algeria could be territorially included.

This was the first indication of how deep French sensitivity was around Algeria. NATO solidarity – and its importance to Canadian transatlantic identity – would remain central to Canada’s position on Algeria. Combined with Canada’s brewing constitutional sensitivities around its French–English divide, its unwillingness to recognize Algerian self-determination stemmed from its own desire to remain recognized as a reliable NATO ally and as united domestically. This was contrary to its willingness to recognize new UN members in both 1955 and 1960, to the dismay of the Americans and in opposition to French colonialism.

Canada and France were bound by Atlanticism in the Cold War period, wherein they were committed to the transatlantic alliance both in terms of policy and identity.Footnote 130 As the 1950s went on – and throughout the Algerian War – they diverged. Canadian policymakers were ‘oriented culturally toward the Anglo-American world and inclined ideologically to engage in the Cold War’, often finding themselves caught between the USA and France.Footnote 131 Atlanticism remained central to Canadian identity, as it was grounded in liberal internationalism and prioritized the special relationships it had with Britain and the United States. Meanwhile, France ‘resented the realities of an alliance increasingly perceived as a thorn in the side of French interests’.Footnote 132 which was pushing it towards nationalism and isolationism.

In its first public statement, the FLN mentioned the UN.Footnote 133 From then on, and during 1955, the FLN built support at the UN and in Bandung. Internally, the Canadian leadership had begun to sympathize with the Algerian cause, viewing decolonization as inevitable, but were unwilling to criticize France.Footnote 134 NATO solidarity was highly salient at this moment. In May 1955, France withdrew soldiers from Germany to support its effort in Algeria. This irritated other NATO members, especially Canada, where officials realized that France was willing to undermine broader Western solidarity in the name of colonialism and that this would ultimately weaken the transatlantic front and the West’s credibility.Footnote 135 This move threatened NATO’s shared security and identity. Amidst this was the issue of NATO’s Mutual Aid programme. From 1955 to 1958, Canada supplied France with significant military supplies and funds, which increased the perception that it was complicit in France’s war.Footnote 136 It was clear that France was not using such aid for Soviet deterrence, but rather to suppress Algerian resistance. While the St. Laurent government did pass an Order-in-Council to say that Mutual Aid recipient countries had to use it for NATO purposes, they continued to look the other way, even when the actual use was evident.Footnote 137

The 1955 UNGA was the first time that the UN was faced with the question of whether Algeria should be on the agenda. This question was inherently one of recognition. France saw the situation as a domestic conflict to be settled within the bounds of French politics, and therefore outside UN jurisdiction, which is prohibited from interfering in domestic affairs under Article 2(7).Footnote 138 Afro-Asian states advocating on behalf of the FLN saw it as an international issue threatening global peace and security, as well as an issue of self-determination, which would firmly put it in the mandate of the UN according to the Charter. Recognizing the war as a UN issue would internationalize it, giving the FLN subjectivity as an actor and reflecting its sense of self as a legitimate claimant to self-determination.

Some members believed that Algeria’s self-determination and nationhood should be recognized, while others recognized France’s claim to Algeria. This was not a question of membership but one that positioned thick recognition within the very purpose of the UN; it was the very question of which people, the colonizer or the colonized, represented Algeria territorially, politically, and internationally. At each stage, what the UN called the ‘question of Algeria’ was one of recognition. Canada’s treatment of the question invoked multiple audiences and the perception – and recognition – it would imply. This sense of self and struggle for recognition was bound up in Canadian domestic politics, Atlanticism, and its dependence on multilateralism.

In 1955, Canada planned to vote against inscription, recognizing Algeria as integral to France. SSEA Pearson specifically viewed it as domestic French jurisdiction. Yet behind the scenes, USS Jules Léger was concerned that French actions in Algeria were untenable and cruel, but thought Canada was powerless. Ultimately, despite Léger’s concern and sense that independence was ultimately inevitable ,Footnote 139 Canadian officials agreed that it was not worth upsetting NATO or bilateral relations. It would be too risky for Canada to ‘annoy and embarrass’Footnote 140 the French, and the coherence of that alliance was too essential to Canada’s own security and identity. While it was sympathetic to the interests of the Third World, ‘when confronted with conflicting policy interests, Canada placed greater importance on maintaining close ties with and between its principal Western partners’.Footnote 141 Ultimately, the General Assembly voted to inscribe the issue on the agenda; in response, France planned to boycott the remainder of the session.Footnote 142 Assisted by Canada, the other member states urged France to rejoin in the session on condition that the UN did not proceed with the debate on Algeria’s inscription.Footnote 143

By 1956, French efforts to crush the FLN were becoming increasingly brutal. Canadian policy prioritized non-antagonization of France above all other concerns, even acceding to French requests that Canada oppose special sessions of the General Assembly on the Algerian question.Footnote 144 Canada’s official view remained that ‘the Algerian conflict was essentially a matter of French domestic concern’.Footnote 145 If France consented to a discussion, Canada would be willing to take part in it. However this did not mean that the UN could act, as that would amount to recognizing Algeria’s status as an international (non-domestic) issue that legitimized Algerian independence claims. The Department of External Affairs (DEA) produced two papers on the Algerian War. Both examined how the war could divide NATO and affect its prestige, and saw no role for NATO in the conflict.Footnote 146 Canadian officials intended to speak to France privately about self-determination for Algeria, including at a NATO meeting in March.Footnote 147 However, France withdrew another military division from its NATO commitments in Europe. Without that support, France was not open to further discussion of the war’s effect on NATO.Footnote 148

Canada aimed to maintain relations across the Western/non-aligned divide, and its officials were aware that they were inconsistent on decolonization and self-determination.Footnote 149 In June 1956, Canada recognized the independence Tunisia and Morocco, also supporting their UN membership. In October 1956, USS Léger noted ‘we believe that, in some cases we should be able, with the assistance of countries like New Zealand, Norway, Denmark, etc. to assist both sides in solving their problems and understanding each other’.Footnote 150

Within three weeks, the Suez crisis had erupted, reshaping Canada’s engagement in the Middle East. Pre-Suez, Canada’s engagement with the region had been somewhat peripheral, treating it as the realm of great power allies.Footnote 151 Pearson disagreed with the UK/US that Soviet interest in the region was a significant threat. Notably, Egyptian President Nasser supported the FLN, angering France. At first, Canadian leadership saw Suez as something that the great powers should manage through the UNSC.Footnote 152 However, in the absence of such management, the Canadian leadership became increasingly upset with British and French aggression, pulling closer to the Americans.Footnote 153 Canadian officials hoped for a multilateral solution but knew that France and Britain were ‘bent on humiliating Nasser’.Footnote 154 The UK PM Anthony Eden assumed Canada would automatically support the UK, offending Canada’s PM St. Laurent.Footnote 155 The French held a similar sentiment, attributing Canada’s betrayal to the isolationism and anti-colonialism that they associated with Québécois politics.Footnote 156Arguably, France and the UK’s assumption of automatic support based on questions of Canadian identity amounted to misrecognition for Canada. This demonstrated that Canada’s Middle East policy was bound up in its concerns about its own recognition.Footnote 157

Although the outcome of Suez permanently altered Canada’s alliance with Britain, it also affected Canada–France relations. France’s desire to humiliate Nasser stemmed from its anger that he had supported the FLN.Footnote 158 France had interests in the Suez Canal, but it also sought to stop Nasser’s supply of weapons to the FLN.Footnote 159 The British/French vs. American divide also involved Canada – the former two turned away from the USA and Canada became increasingly close to its southern neighbour, a trend that was already on an upwards trajectory.Footnote 160 The Cold War divide widened, especially with France’s turn towards nationalism, which clashed with Canada’s Atlanticism.

Relatedly, PM St. Laurent was aware of what the politics of Suez – and relatedly Algeria – would do to its domestic politics, especially in the context of French/British misrecognition of Canada. While most Canadians supported the French,Footnote 161 the government was reliant on Québec Members of Parliament to hold power.Footnote 162 Popular opinion in Québec was becoming increasingly supportive of Arab nationalist movements (including that of Algeria) and increasingly anti-American,Footnote 163 and this made Canadian officials sensitive to issues of Canadian unity.Footnote 164

Additionally, Canadian officials disagreed as to whether newly independent Tunisia and Morocco, as well as Algeria, should be considered as countries in which to promote (especially French-speaking) immigration to Canada, and how that might affect France’s continued sensitivities.Footnote 165 Even though immigration was in Canada’s interest, continued appeasement of France for the sake of NATO solidarity made it difficult.

It was not until 1957 that resolutions on the Algerian question faced the First Committee and the General Assembly again.Footnote 166 Rather than opposing inscription entirely, France sought to inscribe it while insisting that it required a domestic solution. It hoped to present a plan that primarily protected its own interests, appeasing the Afro-Asian states but maintaining Algérie francaise. In the First Committee, the French argued that prior to their colonization of Algeria, ‘no state had imposed its law on Algerian soil’, and any solution must uphold Algeria’s status as part of France.Footnote 167 Syria countered that Algeria had been a political and sovereign entity prior to French colonization.Footnote 168 This contestation was central to the Algerian question, as it was about recognition for France and Algeria not just in the present, but as a contiguous historical entity with relations to authority over time. For France, their view of ‘empty’ Algerian territory looked like the North American concept of terra nullius; according to this view, the territory had been empty before they conquered it, a narrative which entirely erased centuries of Ottoman rule.Footnote 169

While Canadian leadership disagreed in 1957 on the history of the Algerian question, Canada supported France’s position in the First Committee, arguing that the French had begun to make progress towards satisfying some Algerian demands and the decolonization of its other colonial possessions. Canada voted against resolutions supporting the FLN and in favour of some that were less critical of the French. Specifically, the Canadian delegation argued that perhaps a solution to the question of Algeria – a home to both a colonizer and a colonized people – could resemble French and English Canada:

Although Canada had succeeded in working out a harmonious political and social entity in a society composed of races of differing cultural, linguistic and religious backgrounds, it had not done so overnight. Footnote 170

Canada’s position reflected its own identity, on which its view of self-determination rested. It could not recognize an independent Algeria if the construction of that state delegitimized French colonialism, which was integral to Canada’s history. It was not just Canada’s bilateral relationship with France that mattered, but the liberal, bilingual, and bicultural cooperation that had constructed contemporary Canada.

On 15 February 1957, the UNGA adopted a resolution from the First Committee. Canada voted affirmatively; however, the resolution only contained three clauses, acknowledging that delegations had been heard and expressing hope that a solution of cooperation and peace could be found in alignment with the Charter. Self-determination and sovereignty were excluded.Footnote 171

Shortly after, French PM Guy Mollet visited Canada. Addressing Parliament, Mollet thanked Canada for its ‘unfailing support’ at the UN and outlinedFrench plans for ‘democratizing’ the Algerian ‘problem’.Footnote 172 Demonizing the FLN, he argued that they rejected ceasefires, would not renounce violence, and would not take the rights that France offered.Footnote 173 Mollet’s government had indeed considered political reforms, though these were not at all what Algerians sought and had been thwarted by settlers unhappy with the French government. The visit was a recommitment to good relations between the two countries, but neither government would last.

With no change to official policy on Algeria, PM Diefenbaker would form a new government in June 1957, heading off to a new UNGA session that autumn. Morocco and Tunisia were supporting the Afro-Asian countries in their fight for Algeria, an effort which was succeeding diplomatically despite French military successes. While strongly supporting the FLN, Morocco and Tunisia offered (unsuccessfully) to broker peace talks between the French and the FLN.Footnote 174

On a First Committee draft resolution, Canada, Norway, and Ireland submitted amendments removing the issue of self-determination, opting for language on democratic determination of outcomes.Footnote 175 However, this amendment failed.Footnote 176 Canada opposed the ‘predetermination’ of outcomes of peace negotiations. For Canadian officials, it was inappropriate for the UN to decide who had a right to sovereignty in a conflict such as this. Acknowledging self-determination explicitly for Algerians would not only be a predetermination of the end of the war, but would functionally be a recognition of Algerian identity.

In early 1958, as Canada struggled to continue supporting France, France opened the door to discussing solutions to the Algerian crisis with NATO allies.Footnote 177 However, by May 1958, France was in crisis. The French Army sought to prevent a newly elected PM from giving up Algeria. French settlers were becoming increasingly radicalized against the French government. Riots involving French soldiers broke out in Algiers.Footnote 178 French generals in Algeria began preparing for a coup in Paris.

The Fourth Republic collapsed. Charles de Gaulle, with the support of French settlers and the military, returned to power in June 1958.Footnote 179 In the Fifth Republic, a new constitution emerged, but De Gaulle’s policy on resolving the war remained unclear. This new constitution and its referendums changed the structure of all other French colonies and began the independence process for the rest of the French empire in Africa.

In August 1958, the DEA was expecting a visit of the Conference of Independent African states to Ottawa and lobby for Algerian independence. While many officials opposed this visit, USS Léger felt that Canada should take the meeting to avoid harming its relations with the new states. This was not the first consideration of this type – PM Diefenbaker refused the French request to lobby Commonwealth Afro-Asian states against Algerian independence in January 1958.Footnote 180 The French government reacted to the potential visit poorly,Footnote 181 even suggesting that Canadian interest in Algeria would amount to Paris ‘involving itself in the political destiny of part of Canada’.Footnote 182 The African states cancelled their meetng with Léger and their visit to Canada, yet it was obvious that French sensitivity remained on questions of recognition of the constitution of Canada and France.

In September 1958, the FLN formed the GPRA in Cairo. While many recognized the GPRA, Canada did not, based on the internal legal consensus that the FLN had neither de jure nor de facto control of territory.Footnote 183 This was explicit denial of legal and political recognition, illustrating the complex, contradictory logics inherent (and often overlooked) in the process of recognition.Footnote 184 It was a denial of recognition of both statehood and a claim to legitimate government, demonstrating a distinction between the two and advancing both states’ pursuit of thick recognition.

In the same week, Canadian officials became aware that journalist – and later Québec independence leader – René Lévesque was planning to travel to France and Algeria to cover the referendum for the new constitution. Lévesque had already covered Algeria on his programme, aiming to draw anti-colonial parallels between the cases of France and Algeria and Canada and Québec. At this time, many Québec media outlets sympathized heavily with the FLN.Footnote 185 Lévesque aimed to produce a report on the referendum from the Algerian perspective for the Canadian Broadcasting Company (CBC). Canadian officials expressed concern internally, believing that Lévesque was too sympathetic both to the FLN and to communists. They knew that they could not politically intervene in the CBC’s actions but could ensure that government contact with Lévesque was minimal, fearing that to do otherwise might impact Québec’s independence debate.

At UNGA 1958, Canada’s position remained the same – rejecting both independence and predetermination of the outcome of negotiations. Afro-Asian states brought up the question of whether Algeria should be ruled by France or by Algerians once again. France boycotted discussion. Canada voted against the resolution on the Algerian question of recognizing independence.Footnote 186 French and American relations were becoming increasingly strained on the issue, with the USA abstaining on the resolution.Footnote 187

One year later, in advance of the 1959 UNGA, French allies were weakening their support for France. Afro-Asian support for the GPRA was strengthening. Tensions remained around French nuclear testing in the Sahara. This became the major rift between the USA and France, pushing France further from NATO. De Gaulle’s visit to Canada was lukewarm in tone,Footnote 188 neither improving nor harming relations.

Canada was willing to vote for inscription on the UNGA agenda, pending further decision-making, while remaining aware that De Gaulle’s plans on the war remained unknown.Footnote 189 Indeed, after the issue was inscribed on the UN agenda in September 1959, De Gaulle announced a new policy:Footnote 190 within four years and in the event of a ceasefire, the Algerian people could choose their own future on independence and association with France. To their benefit, French relations with allies would not get worse.Footnote 191

In 1959, ‘for the first time in four years, the Canadian government could publicly and sincerely say that it agreed with the overall direction of French policy towards Algeria’.Footnote 192 However, in 1959 and 1960, Canadian officials remained cautious at the UN.Footnote 193 Canada’s policy was to intervene as little as possible to avoid upsetting either Afro-Asian states or France, aiming to maintain its reputation with both. The De Gaulle government, despite its new plan, did not want the UN to intervene or make any decisions on the future of Algeria. This continued to drive Canadian hesitance, as did continued debate over nuclear testing in Algeria.Footnote 194

In 1960, Canada finally voted in favour of a UN resolution mentioning self-determination for Algeria, though its wording was extremely mild and did not mention independence.Footnote 195 Simultaneously, the first negotiations between the GPRA and the French began. Many in France supported independence of Algeria, but they were increasingly divided from their settler counterparts, who were feeling betrayed and abandoned by De Gaulle. Violence from settlers against the French government continued in 1960 and 1961. In 1961, there was a failed coup d’état in Algiers, as those who sought to keep Algeria part of France turned on their former ally, De Gaulle. Hostilities ceased in March 1962, and that June, Algerians voted for independence. Canada recognized Algeria immediately and welcomed it to the UN shortly after.

Conclusion

From 1955 to 1961, Canada voted ‘against 9 resolutions’ on Algerian independence.Footnote 196 Simultaneously, Canada championed UN membership of new states in 1955 and 1960, many of which were former French colonies. This stark – and puzzling – divide in Canadian recognition policy especially around French decolonization can be understood in terms of recognition. Canada sought recognition as a cooperative, liberal partner supporting an effective multilateral system.

In this paper, I have argued from a relational view that recognition is multidirectional – the act of granting recognition is integrated in the granting state’s own quest for recognition from multiple audiences. For Canada, its struggle for recognition drove its policies on UN membership and Algeria, with divergence in terms of where it would grant recognition. For new UN members, Canada enthusiastically granted thin recognition, which had implications for its own thick recognition, as this supported its reputation as cooperative and liberal in the eyes of the UN majority. However, Canada would not grant thick recognition of Algerian identity. Its own quest for thick recognition prioritized a vision of NATO unity and its own linguistic politics, leading it to support France’s political claim to Algeria.

This argument makes three contributions to IR. First, it presents not just a theoretical idea, but an original analysis of multidirectional recognition in practice. It puts international history and IR theory in conversation, which is especially important as recognition’s conceptual tensions are evidenced throughout decolonial history. Second, it focuses on granting recognition, not only seeking it. By focusing on the granting state’s own recognition ambitions, it offers a context-sensitive view of these multiple audiences. In this case, it shows that both pursuing and granting recognition are embedded within hierarchies of power and domination, such as imperialisms. Third, it offers an empirical demonstration of both the relationship and distinction between thick and thin recognition, advancing the utility and operationalization of these concepts for IR.

Video Abstract

To view the online video abstract, please visit: https://doi.org/10.1017/S0260210525101514.

Acknowledgements

Thank you to Shruti Balaji for her very helpful discussant comments on an early draft of this article at ISA 2024. Paul Beaumont also provided helpful comments from the audience – thank you! Thank you to the Queen’s University’s Department of Political Studies for providing funding for a visit to the United Nations Archives in New York. Thank you to Stéphanie Martel and Michael Murphy for their moral support, helpful suggestions, and writing group company. Thank you to the RIS editors, as well as to the three anonymous reviewers for their extremely constructive and comprehensive comments, which have greatly strengthened this article. Finally, thank you to staff at the Permanent Mission of Canada to the United Nations for their engagement, comments, and questions at my presentation of this article in August 2024.

Funding statements

This work was supported by the Sir Edward Peacock Research Fund in Political Studies at Queen’s University.

Competing interest

The author reports that there are no competing interests to declare.

Appendix: List of Historical Documents

Documents on Canadian External Relations

  • Published by the Historical Section of Global Affairs Canada, formerly the Department of Foreign Affairs and International Trade

Jules Léger Library

Dag Hammarskjold Library/United Nations Digital Library

United Nations Archives

International Court of Justice

References

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2 Erik Ringmar, Identity, Interest, and Action: A Cultural Explanation of Sweden’s Intervention in the Thirty Years War (Cambridge University Press, 1996), p. 11.

3 Alexander Wendt, ‘Why a world state is inevitable’, European Journal of International Relations, 9:4 (2003), p. 512.

4 Ayşe Zarakol, ‘Sovereign equality as misrecognition’, Review of International Studies, 44:5 (2018), p. 849.

5 Wendt, ‘Why a world state is inevitable’, p. 512.

6 Dag Hammarskjold Library, ‘UN Membership’, available at: {https://research.un.org/en/unmembers}.

7 Zarakol, ‘Sovereign equality as misrecognition’.

8 Jure Vidmar, ‘UN membership and the state requirement: Does “state” always imply “statehood”?’, Max Planck Yearbook of United Nations Law Online, 24:1 (2021), p. 201.

9 George Kyris, ‘State recognition and dynamic sovereignty’, European Journal of International Relations, 28:2 (2022), p. 297.

10 Kyris, ‘State recognition and dynamic sovereignty’, p. 297.

11 Nina Caspersen, ‘The creation of new states through interim agreements: Ambiguous compromises, intra-communal divisions, and contested identities’, International Political Science Review, 41:5 (2020), p. 669.

12 See George Kyris and Bruno Luciano, ‘Collective recognition and regional parliaments: Navigating statehood conflict’, Global Studies Quarterly, 1:3 (2021); Edward Newman and Gëzim Visoka, ‘The European Union’s practice of state recognition: Between norms and interests’, Review of International Studies, 44:4 (2018), pp. 760–86.

13 Dag Hammarskjold Library ‘UN Membership’.

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15 Jens Bartelson, ‘Three concepts of recognition’, International Theory, 5:1 (2013), p. 119.

16 Gustafsson, ‘Recognising recognition through thick and thin’.

17 Patrick Thaddeus Jackson and Daniel H. Nexon, ‘Reclaiming the social: Relationalism in anglophone International Studies’, Cambridge Review of International Affairs, 32:5 (2019), pp. 584–5.

18 Oliver Kessler and Benjamin Herborth, ‘Recognition and the constitution of social order’, International Theory, 5:1 (2013), p. 159.

19 Newman and Visoka, ‘The European Union’s practice of state recognition’, p. 370.

20 Lucas Knotter, ‘Why declare independence? Observing, believing, and performing the ritual’, Review of International Studies, 47:2 (2021), pp. 252–71.

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22 Erik Ringmar, ‘The international politics of recognition’, in Thomas Lindemann and Erik Ringmar (eds), International Politics of Recognition (Taylor and Francis, 2015). eBook.

23 Strömbom, ‘Thick recognition’, p. 172.

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26 Pierre Allan and Alexis Keller (eds), What Is a Just Peace? (Oxford University Press, 2008); Brian Greenhill, ‘Recognition and collective identity formation in international politics’, European Journal of International Relations, 14:2 (2008), pp. 343–68.

27 Hans Agné et al., ‘Symposium “The Politics of International Recognition”’, International Theory, 5:1 (2013), pp. 94–107; Thomas Lindemann, Causes of War: The Struggle for Recognition (ECPR Press, 2010).

28 Fernández-Molina, ‘Bottom-up change’; Honneth, The Struggle for Recognition.

29 Fernández-Molina, ‘Bottom-up change’; Charles Taylor (ed.), Multiculturalism: Examining the Politics of Recognition (Princeton University Press, 1994).

30 Fernández-Molina, ‘Bottom-up change’, p. 410.

31 Fernández-Molina, ‘Bottom-up change’, p. 411.

32 Bartelson, ‘Recognition’, p. 304.

33 See Fernández-Molina, ‘Bottom-up change’, for a detailed and thorough engagement of Honneth/Taylor.

34 Rebecca Adler-Nissen and Ayşe Zarakol, ‘Struggles for recognition: The liberal international order and the merger of its discontents’, International Organization, 75:2 (2021), p. 613.

35 Charlotte Epstein, Thomas Lindemann, and Ole Jacob Sending, ‘Frustrated sovereigns: The agency that makes the world go around’, Review of International Studies, 44:5 (2018), pp. 788–9.

36 Murray, The Struggle for Recognition in International Relations, 6.

37 Bernardo Teles Fazendeiro, Uzbekistan’s Foreign Policy: The Struggle for Recognition and Self-Reliance under Karimov (Routledge, 2020).

38 Bartelson, ‘Recognition’.

39 Jan Hornat, ‘Survival and status in the liberal international order: The grantors of recognition’, Journal of International Relations and Development, 27:1 (2024), pp. 95–115; Lora Anne Viola, The Closure of the International System: How Institutions Create Political Equalities and Hierarchies (Cambridge University Press, 2020).

40 Duque, ‘Recognizing international status’.

41 Zarakol, ‘Sovereign equality as misrecognition’, p. 849.

42 Matthew Connelly, A Diplomatic Revolution: Algeria’s Fight for Independence and the Origins of the Post-Cold War Era (Oxford University Press, 2003), p. 4.

43 Connelly, A Diplomatic Revolution.

44 Alina Sajed, ‘Re-remembering Third Worldism: An affirmative critique of national liberation in Algeria’, Middle East Critique, 28:3 (2019), pp. 243–60.

45 Terrence Peterson, Revolutionary Warfare: How the Algerian War Made Modern Counterinsurgency (Cornell University Press, 2024).

46 Sadia Saeed, ‘Decolonization struggles at the United Nations: The question of Algeria, 1955–1961’, European Journal of Sociology, 62:3 (2021), pp. 421–55.

47 Saeed, ‘Decolonization struggles at the United Nations’, pp. 423–5.

48 Eva-Maria Muschik, Building States: The United Nations, Development, and Decolonization, 1945–1965 (Columbia University Press, 2022), pp. 173–4.

49 Muschik, Building States, pp. 173–4.

50 Margot Tudor, Blue Helmet Bureaucrats: United Nations Peacekeeping and the Reinvention of Colonialism, 1945–1971 (Cambridge University Press, 2023).

51 David Webster, ‘Development advisors in a time of Cold War and decolonization: The United Nations technical assistance administration, 1950–59’, Journal of Global History, 6:2 (2011), pp. 249–72.

52 Tudor, Blue Helmet Bureaucrats.

53 Alanna O’Malley and Vineet Thakur, ‘Introduction: Shaping a global horizon, new histories of the Global South and the UN’, Humanity, 13:1 (2022), p. 58.

54 Glenda Sluga, Internationalism in the Age of Nationalism (University of Pennsylvania Press, 2013).

55 Adom Getachew, Worldmaking After Empire: The Rise and Fall of Self-Determination (Princeton University Press, 2019).

56 Cindy Ewing, ‘“With A Minimum of Bitterness”: Decolonization, the right to self-determination, and the Arab-Asian group’, Journal of Global History, 17:2 (2022), p. 255.

57 Asa McKercher, ‘The centre cannot hold: Canada, Colonialism and the “Afro-Asian bloc” at the United Nations, 1960–62’, The Journal of Imperial and Commonwealth History, 42:2 (2014), p. 333.

58 McKercher, ‘The centre cannot hold’, p. 333.

59 Kevin A. Spooner, ‘“Awakening Africa”: Race and Canadian views of decolonizing Africa’, in Laura Madokoro, Francine McKenzie, and David Meren (eds), Dominion of Race: Rethinking Canada’s International History (University of British Columbia Press, 2018), p. 215.

60 Spooner, “Awakening Africa”, p. 215.

61 David Webster, Fire and the Full Moon: Canada and Indonesia in a Decolonizing World (UBC Press, 2010).

62 Adam Chapnick, ‘Pearson and the United Nations: Tracking the Stoicism of a Frustrated Idealist’, in Asa McKercher and Galen Roger Perras (eds), Mike’s World: Lester B. Pearson and Canadian External Affairs (UBC Press, 2017), pp. 70–87.

63 Dan Gorman, ‘Race, the Commonwealth, and the United Nations: From Imperialism to Internationalism in Canada’, in Laura Madokoro, Francine McKenzie, and David Meren (eds), Dominion of Race: Rethinking Canada’s International History (University of British Columbia Press, 2018), p. 141.

64 C2.

65 Yves Fortier, ‘Canada and the United Nations: A Half Century Partnership’, (1996), {https://www.international.gc.ca/gac-amc/programs-programmes/od_skelton/yves_fortier_lecture-conference.aspx?lang=eng}.

66 D1.

67 John W. Holmes, The Shaping of Peace: Canada and the Search for World Order, 1943–1957 (Volume 2) (University of Toronto Press, 1982) eBook.

68 B1, p. 29.

69 B1, p. 29.

70 Holmes, The Shaping of Peace.

71 Greg Donaghy, Grit: The Life and Politics of Paul Martin Sr (UBC Press, 2015), p. 138.

72 Donaghy, ‘Grit’, p. 138.

73 A4, p. 3.

74 A1, p. 17.

75 Holmes, The Shaping of Peace.

76 E1.

77 A1, pp. 18–19.

78 A5, p. 21.

79 A5, p. 21.

80 A7, p. 25.

81 Adam Chapnick, Canada on the United Nations Security Council: A small power on a large stage (UBC Press, 2019), p. 47.

82 A7, p. 26.

83 A8, pp. 28–9.

84 A9, p. 31.

85 Holmes, The Shaping of Peace.

86 A10, pp. 37–8.

87 A11, p. 40.

88 A11, p. 41.

89 A12, p. 45.

90 A13, pp. 47–9; A14, pp. 49–50; A15, pp. 50–1.

91 A13, pp. 47–9; A14, pp. 49–50; A15, pp. 50–1.

92 A19, pp. 52–53.

93 Holmes, The Shaping of Peace.

94 Asa McKercher and Michael D. Stevenson, Building a Special Relationship: Canada-US Relations in the Eisenhower Era, 1953–61 (UBC Press, 2024), p. 112.

95 A18, p. 57.

96 Holmes, The Shaping of Peace.

97 A19, p. 63.

98 C1.

99 Holmes, The Shaping of Peace.

100 C1.

101 Mary Ann Heiss, Fulfilling the Sacred Trust: The UN Campaign for International Accountability for Dependent Territories in the Era of Decolonization (Cornell University Press, 2020).

102 Holmes, The Shaping of Peace.

103 B2.

104 D2.

105 Dag Hammarskjold Library, ‘Resolutions adopted by the General Assembly at its 15th session’, available at: {https://research.un.org/en/docs/ga/quick/regular/15}.

106 Heiss, Fulfilling the Sacred Trust, p. 144.

107 ‘Resolutions adopted by the General Assembly at its 15th session’.

108 Heiss, Fulfilling the Sacred Trust, p. 146.

109 Heiss, Fulfilling the Sacred Trust, p. 158.

110 Catherine Hoskyns, ‘The African States and the United Nations 1958–1964’, International Affairs, 40:3 (1964), p. 470.

111 Saeed, ‘Decolonization struggles at the United Nations’, p. 448.

112 Hoskyns, ‘The African States and the United Nations’, p. 469.

113 A32, p. 164.

114 A30, p. 174.

115 McKercher, ‘The centre cannot hold’, p. 332.

116 B4.

117 B4.

118 B4.

119 B4.

120 B5.

121 B3.

122 B3.

123 Saeed, ‘Decolonization struggles at the United Nations’, p. 430.

124 Alina Sajed, ‘How we fight: Anticolonial Imaginaries and the question of national liberation in the Algerian War’, Interventions, 21:5 (2019), pp. 635–51.

125 Benjamin Stora, ‘The “southern” world of the pieds noirs: References to and representations of Europeans in colonial Algeria’, in Caroline Elkins and Susan Pedersen (eds), Settler Colonialism in the Twentieth Century: Projects, Practices, Legacies (Routledge, 2005), pp. 225–42.

126 Stora, ‘The “southern” world’, p. 226.

127 Robin Gendron, Towards a Francophone Community: Canada’s Relations with France and French Africa, 1945–1968 (McGill-Queen’s University Press, 2006), pp. 25–7; Justin Massie, Francosphère: l’importance de la France dans la culture stratégique du Canada (Presses de l’Université du Québec, 2013), pp. 237–40.

128 Gendron, Towards a Francophone Community, p. 26.

129 Gendron, Towards a Francophone Community, p. 27.

130 David Meren, With Friends Like These: Entangled Nationalisms and the Canada-Quebec-France Triangle, 1944–1970 (UBC Press, 2014).

131 Meren, With Friends Like These, p. 12.

132 Meren, With Friends Like These, p. 12.

133 Saeed, ‘Decolonization struggles at the United Nations’, pp. 429–30.

134 A3, p. 160.

135 Gendron, Towards a Francophone Community, p. 41.

136 Gendron, Towards a Francophone Community, p. 49.

137 Gendron, Towards a Francophone Community, p. 50.

138 A2, p. 157.

139 Robin Gendron, ‘Tempered sympathy: Canada’s reaction to the independence movement in Algeria, 1954–1962’, Journal of the Canadian Historical Association, 9:1 (1998), p. 230.

140 A2, p. 160.

141 Gendron, ‘Tempered sympathy’, p. 226.

142 A6, pp. 160–1.

143 Gendron, ‘Tempered sympathy’, p. 232.

144 A23, pp. 580–1.

145 B7, p. 161.

146 A21, pp. 571–2.

147 Gendron, Towards a Francophone Community, p. 44.

148 Gendron, Towards a Francophone Community, pp. 44–5.

149 A25, p. 507.

150 A26, p. 509.

151 Greg Donaghy, ‘The politics of accommodation: Canada, the Middle East, and the Suez crisis, 1950–1956’, International Journal, 71:2 (2016), pp. 313–27.

152 Donaghy, ‘The politics of accommodation’ p. 319.

153 Donaghy, ‘The politics of accommodation’, p. 319.

154 Donaghy, ‘The politics of accommodation’, p. 321, A24, p. 169.

155 Donaghy, ‘The politics of accommodation’, p. 319.

156 Meren, ‘With Friends Like These’, p. 26.

157 Thank you to one of the reviewers for pointing this out – there is much to unpack on this point in future research.

158 Gendron, Towards a Francophone Community, p. 44; Meren, With Friends Like These, p. 24.

159 Meren, With Friends Like These, p. 24.

160 McKercher and Stevenson, Building a Special Relationship, p. 6.

161 Gendron, Towards a Francophone Community, pp. 50–1.

162 Donaghy, ‘The politics of accommodation’, p. 314.

163 David Meren, ‘An atmosphere of Libération: The role of decolonization in the France–Quebec rapprochement of the 1960s’, Canadian Historical Review, 92:2 (2011), pp. 263–94.

164 John English and Robert Bothwell, ‘Foreword’, in McKercher and Stevenson (eds), Building a Special Relationship, p. x.

165 Gendron, Towards a Francophone Community, pp. 48–9.

166 Saeed, ‘Decolonization struggles at the United Nations’, p. 445.

167 B7, p. 154.

168 B7, p. 154.

169 Stora, ‘The “southern” world’, p. 229.

170 B7, p. 161.

171 C3.

172 B6, p. 89.

173 B6, p. 89.

174 C5.

175 Saeed, ‘Decolonization struggles at the United Nations’, pp. 447–8. C4.

176 D3, p. 39.

177 Gendron, Towards a Francophone Community, p. 53.

178 Bryan Muller, ‘Mai 1958: une histoire encore inachevée’, The Conversation (2018), available at: {https://theconversation.com/mai-1958-une-histoire-encore-inachevee-89684}.

179 Muller, ‘Mai 1958’.

180 Gendron, Towards a Francophone Community, p. 59.

181 Gendron, Towards a Francophone Community, p. 59.

182 Meren, With Friends Like These, p. 27.

183 A27, pp. 1176–7.

184 Fernández-Molina, ‘The international recognition of governments in practice(s)’.

185 Amine Esseghir, ‘Il y a 50 ans: L’indépendance de l’Algérie – Un impact jusqu’au Québec’, Le Devoir, 5 July 2012, available at: {https://www.ledevoir.com/monde/afrique/353899/un-impact-jusqu-au-quebec?}; Meren, ‘An atmosphere of Libération’, p. 272.

186 Gendron, Towards a Francophone Community, p. 61.

187 Gendron, Towards a Francophone Community, p. 62.

188 Gendron, Towards a Francophone Community, p. 33.

189 A28, p. 4.

190 Gendron, Towards a Francophone Community, p. 64.

191 A29, p. 720.

192 Gendron, Towards a Francophone Community, p. 65.

193 Gendron, Towards a Francophone Community, p. 70.

194 A32, pp. 1–5.

195 A33, pp. 188–9.

196 Gendron, ‘Tempered sympathy’, p. 237.

Figure 0

Table 1. Membership Applications to the UN.

Figure 1

Table 2. New Members 1960.