“‘For the public good,’ the Ontario Government has taken an axe to the fundamental rights and liberties of this province’s people. ‘For the public good,’ it proposes to trample upon Magna Carta, Habeas Corpus, the Canadian Bill of Rights, and the Rule of Law ... Are we in Ontario — or are we in Ghana? In the Canada of 1964 — or in the Germany of 1934? This legislation is supposed to be directed against organized crime. In fact, it is directed against every man and woman in this province ... This legislation could make Ontario a police state. It would give the Ontario Police Commission powers comparable with those of the OGPU [a forerunner of the KGB] or the Gestapo.” — front page editorial, “Bill of Wrongs,” the Globe and Mail, March 20, 1964
Elements within the Ontario government tried to sell Bill 99 as a way to fight a perceived increase in organized crime in the province. Instead, over a few days in March 1964, they outraged the public and politicians — including some within the ruling Progressive Conservatives — with legislation that would have given police greater power to suppress civil liberties. Most observers who watched the chaos unfold at Queen’s Park wondered why nobody had considered the bill’s potential implications.
At the heart of the controversy was Attorney General Frederick Cass, who had developed a reputation across several different portfolios as a no-nonsense taskmaster with a short fuse. After becoming attorney general in late 1962, he oversaw a report conducted by Judge Bruce Macdonald that recommended that the Police Act should be revised to allow law enforcement to combat organized crime and Mafia activity in the province. During the 1963 provincial election, the Liberal campaign raised the spectre of gang wars; some Tories believed they had to show the public they weren’t soft on crime — regardless of whether the perception that it was rising was true or not.
The report’s release on March 19, 1964, was unusual. Reporters reviewing its contents were locked in a room for six hours under an OPP watch that included supervised bathroom trips. Cass visited around 9:30 a.m. to answer questions, making it clear that he disagreed with Macdonald on several sections of the report.
The report proposed changes to Section 14 of the Police Act that would give the Ontario Police Commission sweeping powers to suspend normal civil liberties. New subsections would allow the OPC to summon anyone and require them to provide evidence in camera. Legal counsel could be denied until the OPC was satisfied with questioning. If the person being summoned refused to answer questions or provide requested evidence, the OPC could “by warrant, commit the person to prison for a period not exceeding eight clear days” without bail or appeal. If the person continued to refuse to co-operate following their release, they’d get another eight-day sentence, and the OPC could “commit the person to prison from time to time until the person consents to do what is required of him.” Those questioned were forbidden to disclose anything that occurred during their hearing; if they did, they faced a $2,000 fine and a year’s imprisonment.
Al Beaton cartoon of Frederick Cass from the March 21, 1964, edition of the Telegram; Al Beaton cartoon of John Robarts trying to clean up the mess, from the March 24, 1964, edition of the Telegram.
Early that afternoon, Cass outlined the legislation based on the report that he would bring to the floor that day. He assured the small number of attendees — around one-seventh of the Tory caucus — that the proposed amendments to the Police Act were just housekeeping. As bills at that time were rarely printed before first reading, those in attendance accepted Cass’s explanation without any visible concern.
After Bill 99 was tabled for first reading, Cass held a press conference. He noted that some individual rights would be sacrificed for the public good and said he trusted the OPC to act carefully. Then he stunned reporters by attacking his own bill: “It’s drastic, it’s dangerous, and it’s new, and it’s terrible legislation in an English common-law country.” If the law passed, he said, a person could be plucked off the street, hauled before the committee, and sent to jail without anyone else’s knowledge. Observers wonder why this legislation was being brought forward if Cass was so repulsed by it.
Around 9 p.m., while attending a party thrown by the government for the media corps, Premier John Robarts learned that the Globe and Mail had prepared a rare front-page editorial for the next day’s edition regarding the legislation. Titled “Bill of Wrongs,” the piece lashed out at the government, suggesting it would create the ideal conditions for a police state.
Portion of the Globe and Mail front page on March 20, 1964.
A similar front-page editorial appeared in the Toronto Star. “A case could perhaps be made out for measures such as this in a country ravaged by civil war,” the Star observed. “But the only justification the government offers is that these drastic powers are needed to combat crime syndicates from the United States. A few months ago the cabinet was denying that these syndicates were operating in Ontario at all. Now they have become, we are told, such an awful menace that the traditional rights and liberties of the people of Ontario must go by the board. This looks like a reaction of sheer panic ... This law is not aimed at just racketeers and gangsters and their accomplices. It can be used against anyone — against opponents and critics of the government whom someone in authority has a grudge. In the hands of corrupt officials it could be used not to repress crime but protect it.”
The Star concluded that Bill 99 was “the most offensive and dangerous legislation ever introduced in Ontario.” Similar thoughts were expressed by papers, such as the Hamilton Spectator (“Like so many symptoms of a general political deterioration in Canada, frustration with enforcement of the law leads to a substitution of outrageous interference with the rights of the individual through new and desperate laws”), the Kingston Whig-Standard (“This is a black and terrifying day,” along with a call for “all free men” to defy the bill), and the Ottawa Citizen (“It should be resisted with all possible energy”).
Portion of the Toronto Star front page on March 20, 1964.
The opposition lashed out in the legislature on March 20. Acting Liberal leader Farquhar Oliver demanded that the government either dismiss the legislation or call an election. Tempers flared to the point that Speaker Donald Morrow sent the sergeant-at-arms over to Oliver when he refused to yield to the Speaker’s request to allow Robarts to speak.
In an emotional speech, Dovercourt Liberal MPP Andrew Thompson argued that in a British-inspired parliamentary system, a cabinet must stand in solidarity, so the front benchers were as guilty as Cass of creating chaos. “We don’t see this as a political battle,” he noted, “but a battle for the sanctity of the people.” Thompson’s speech received applause from the visitor’s gallery, and he was able to build on that reaction to win the party leadership later that year.
In a statement written with assistance from former Premier Leslie Frost, Robarts indicated he would not tolerate draconian legislation and would send the bill back to a committee. When Robarts finished speaking, Oliver questioned how the bill had gone so far. The premier also faced internal opposition from MPPs who had had no prior knowledge of the bill. Backbencher Allan Lawrence (St. George), who wasn’t afraid of criticizing the government, was shocked when a reporter described the bill. “It can’t be that,” Lawrence responded. “People picked up without charge, incarcerated, denied a lawyer on the mere suspicion of the peace? If that’s the case, I’d certainly be against it.”
After the debate, Lawrence told Robarts that there were many Tories, especially those who were lawyers, who might vote against the legislation due to a mix of personal beliefs and the large volume of calls they’d received from irate constituents throughout the day.
Cartoon from the March 20, 1964, edition of the Telegram.
Outrage quickly spread to Ottawa. Toronto–Danforth NDP MP Reid Scott proposed a motion to censure the Ontario government. Though the speaker ruled it out of order, Scott’s motion was applauded by all parties except the federal Progressive Conservatives, whose leader, John Diefenbaker, fidgeted with embarrassment in his seat. Diefenbaker, who as prime minister had legislated a national Bill of Rights four years earlier, contemplated denouncing the police-state overtones of Bill 99 in the House of Commons but stayed silent out of respect for Robarts. Diefenbaker urged the premier to drop the bill, as its passage would provide the federal Liberal government a rare opportunity to disallow provincial legislation and position itself as a defender of civil rights, embarrassing Tories at both levels of government.
The furor gained international dimensions when Joseph T. Thorson, a recently retired legal official and the honorary president of the International Commission of Jurists, sought to obtain a copy of the legislation to submit to the commission’s headquarters in Geneva for consideration. Thorson was outraged by the proposals, which he found worthy of a third-world dictatorship — citing seemingly everyone’s favourite target, the increasingly repressive government of Kwame Nkrumah in Ghana. He told the Globe and Mail that “they contravene the basic rule of law. They offend the very sense of justice.” Thorson believed that the public’s anger showed “the value of always being on alert.”
Outside Queen’s Park, between 60 and 100 protestors from the Ontario College of Art chanted “If it starts, where will it end?” and “We want Robarts!” The premier met with three protestors, then repeated to the crowd an earlier statement that no law infringing civil liberties would pass. While some jeered, most of the crowd cheered Robarts with cries of “Thatta boy!”
Al Beaton cartoon from the March 25, 1964, edition of the Telegram; James Reidford cartoon from the March 21, 1964, edition of the Globe and Mail.
The few who expressed their support for the bill were mostly tied to the Ontario Police Commission. Defenders stressed that only those involved in organized crime should be afraid. Judge Bruce Macdonald believed the legislation was necessary to battle the bad guys. “What’s the point of individual rights when there is an invisible government operating behind the scenes,” he told police officials gathered at the Royal York Hotel. University of Toronto law professor John Willis thought the dangers most lawyers described were the result of imaginations gone wild. He told the Star that “any attempt by a public authority to deal with social menace necessarily involves interference to some extent with so-called civil liberties of individuals.”
Everyone spent the weekend determining their next moves. Oliver threatened a filibuster if the bill moved to second reading without changes. Robarts resisted advice from his advisors that Cass should resign. He announced that he would carefully examine the bill before clarifying or withdrawing the offensive sections. Newspapers editorials wondered where the government’s judgment and common sense had disappeared to. Public anger extended to local pulpits, as Reverend J.F, Chidsey of the Don Heights Unitarian Congregation read to worshippers a letter that blasted the legislation for destroying freedoms that citizens had gone to war to protect. The Telegram noted that 75 members of the congregation signed the letter, which was addressed to the premier and demanded Cass’s resignation.
Rusins Kaufmanis cartoon from the March 21, 1964, edition of the Ottawa Citizen.
When the legislature resumed on March 23, debate alternated between cabinet members demanding more review time and the opposition calling for the bill’s withdrawal. Robarts assumed responsibility for the fiasco, yet stubbornly insisted the offending sections of the bill should be retained until a committee could review them. Several Tory MPPs threatened to resign. A motion from Oliver to kill the entire bill was defeated. NDP leader Donald MacDonald moved an amendment to change Section 14 only. Robarts pled for discussion in committee. “I don’t think you’re in any position to preserve even a shred of it,” Oliver responded.
Verbal jousting continued until Robarts finally indicated he would instruct the reviewing committee to delete Section 14, as long as it was fully discussed. MacDonald’s motion passed the house with approval from all 96 MPPs in attendance. It was the first time a premier had accepted an opposition amendment since George Drew voted for a Labor-Progressive motion asking the government not to contest the principle of family allowances in court in 1944.
Among the MPPs who were absent was Cass, who had avoided most of the action at Queen’s Park, having spent the day holed up with his wife at the Royal York. His fate was sealed when, following the passage of MacDonald’s motion, Robarts pulled out Cass’s resignation letter and read it to the legislature in a strained voice. Cass defended the bill but acknowledged that he had “unintentionally touched upon the sensibilities of our people. In doing this, however, I was answering the dictates of my own conscience.” He was replaced a few days later by Arthur Wishart.
Rusins Kaufmanis cartoon from the March 25, 1964, edition of the Ottawa Citizen; Kaufmanis cartoon from the March 24, 1964, edition of the Ottawa Citizen.
Bill 99 was sent to the Legal Bills Committee and rewritten to include common-law protections of individual rights. It was brought back to the legislature and passed on April 28. Robarts realized he could, as biographer A.K. McDougall described, "no longer be just a relaxed chairman of the board" and thereafter took time to review all legislative proposals before they were introduced. Robarts and Wishart contemplated creating new legislation that would redeem the government in the eyes of the public by strengthening civil liberties; that led to the creation of the Ontario Royal Commission on Civil Rights. Chair James McRuer's recommendations, which included limits on powers of arrest, search, and seizure and provided compensation for crime victims, were implemented by Robarts's successor, William Davis, in a series of bills in 1971.
Analyzing the saga of Bill 99 later that summer for Maclean’s, writer Ken Lefolii observed that “we are all more or less conditioned to a kind of secular faith in The Law and Institutions of Parliament; we all believe, perhaps naively, that the law is somehow above human error, and that parliamentary democracy is superior to, and will protect us from, the mistakes or even the evil intentions of any man. Bill 99 made faith in the law, not mention Parliament, look very naïve indeed.”
Sources: John P. Robarts: His Life and Government by A.K. McDougall (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1986); Public Triumph Private Tragedy by Steve Paikin (Toronto: Viking Canada, 2005); the March 20, 1964, edition of the Hamilton Spectator; the March 20, 1964, edition of the KingstonWhig-Standard; the July 4, 1964, edition of Maclean's; the March 20, 1964, edition of the OttawaCitizen; and editions of the Globe and Mail, the Telegram, and the Toronto Star published between March 20, 1964 and March 25, 1964.
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