OTTAWA Shortly after Russia invades Ukraine, in February 2022, people started asking unusual questions about Christine McGuire’s museum. “They wanted to know whether it still works as a nuclear shelter,” says the managing director of the Diefenbunkerthe Canadian Museum of Cold War. “That fear is still very real. It seems to have resurfaced in the public psyche.”
The place still retains almost all the characteristics and forms of the shelter it was in the past, intended for use by the authorities and the armed forces Canada. The complex was decommissioned in 1994 and, with its functional military heritage, has become a symbol of a return to a time when the destruction of the world seems real again with the Russiaequipped with nuclear weapons, suggesting the possibility of using them.
The story of the Diefenbunker is not only one of global tensions, but also of economical use of it Ottawa for defense, his optimistic thinking about the apocalypse, and Canadians’ distaste for what they see as treating their leaders differently. Today, the private museum is one of the few places where people can see an old Cold War bunker built to house a government in the event of a nuclear attack.
View from inside the gold vault of the Canadian Bunker built in Ottawa in the 1960s during the Cold War. With the war in Ukraine, tourists began to visit the shelter, now converted into a museum Photo: Ian Austen / NYT 01/18/2023
All of this has made the site — a fourstory, 350room, 9,300squarefoot underground labyrinth — an unexpectedly popular tourist attraction, despite its somewhat remote location in the village of Carp, within the borders of Ottawa, the capital of Canada.
University of Toronto history professor Robert Bothwell was on the board of directors of a cultural organization in Ontario in the 1990s when a group of volunteers proposed turning the bunker into a museum. At the time, several other volunteerrun institutions were unable to attract visitors, despite adequate funding. “So I thought, ‘The Diefenbunker? Spare me’. But I was wrong.”
Since construction began in 1959, the bunker has had several official names: Army Emergency Signals Establishment, Central Government Emergency Headquarters, and Canadian Forces Station. But it became known as the Diefenbunker after John Diefenbaker, the prime minister who commissioned its construction — more as a mockery than a tribute.
Entrance to bunker built by the Canadian government in the 1960s Photo: Ian Austen / NYT 01/18/2023
For nearly two years, this and ten other smaller bunkers across the country were disguised as military communications centers, which was actually part of their function. But in 1961, the Toronto Telegraph revealed its true nature and published a detailed aerial photograph of the building.
The image showed dozens of toilets would be installed a sign that the complex was intended to be more than a small radio base. The caption above the photo read in capital letters: “78 BATHROOMS. And yet the army does not want to admit that THIS IS THE DIEFENBUNKER.”
After the publication, Diefenbaker admitted the purpose of the bunker. He promised that he would not visit himself and that if bombs and missiles arrived, he would stay at home with his wife. But outrage continued at the exclusive venue reserved for 565 people, including the Prime Minister and 12 ministers. To compound popular disapproval, the government refused to disclose the cost of the work, which was estimated at CA$22 million in 1958 about CA$220 million (R$833 million) today.
117 meter long blast tunnel leading into the bunker Photo: Ian Austen / NYT 01/25/2022
From the outside it looks like a grassy hill with exhaust pipes sticking out of the ground and a couple of antennas. The entrance was built in the 1980s: you pass through a metal structure with a roller door, similar to a garage, that opens onto a reinforced tunnel built to absorb the energy of an atomic bomb dropped on downtown Ottawa. At 118 meters, the tunnel leads to doors weighing between 1 and 4 tons. Next comes a decontamination area and the rest of the bunker.
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Much of the bright interior is a restoration. When the site was decommissioned, everything in it was removed and later replaced with similar or identical items from bunkers and smaller military bases. The prime minister’s office and suite are spartan, with the only luxurious touch being the turquoise sink in the bathroom.
The command center has an overhead projector and four televisions. A military briefing room next door has a projector that tracks aircraft. The bunker is surrounded by thick layers of gravel to mitigate the shock of a nuclear explosion. The plumbing system is mounted on layers of rubber, the same material used for plumbing.
The bunker’s dining room has separate tables and a photo of the Alberta countryside Photo: Ian Austen / NYT 01/18/2022
The safest and most protected area was a vault of sorts, behind a door so huge that a second, smaller door had to be opened first to equalize the air pressure. It was designated as a place for the Bank of Canada to store gold in case of an imminent nuclear attack. According to a spokesman, there is no record of the central bank ever storing the metal there, and in the 1970s the space was used as a gym.
A small arms depot was robbed by a corporal in the bunker in 1984. After even stealing two submachine guns and 400 rounds of ammunition, he went to Quebec, where he shot dead three people and wounded 13 in the Legislative Assembly.
The complex was designed to contain enough food and generator fuel for occupants to last 30 days after a nuclear attack. The idea was that after that time, radiation levels above Earth would be low enough for people to come out safely.
Gilles Courtemanche, a volunteer tour guide who works in the bunker. The Canadian got there in 1964 to fix electronic equipment Photo: Ian Austen / NYT 01/25/2022
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But the bunker was never used and neglected. The only Prime Minister to meet him was Pierre Elliott Trudeau, father of the current Prime Minister. Justin Trudeau. After Pierre Sr.’s visit in a military helicopter in 1976, the government cut the bunker’s budget.
Today, the Diefenbunker welcomes visitors who want to experience that window into Cold War history—and possibly the sense of security that many crave today. Gilles Courtemanche is a volunteer local guide. In 1964, at the age of 20, he was a soldier and worked there for two years as a signalman. He was one of 540 people, including civilians and military, who worked the bunker in three shifts until it was decommissioned.
We have now come full circle for him and for Canada. The Cold War of his youth mutated into new threats the museum reminds of past and present dangers. “Today, China is starting to flex its muscles. The Russians? I don’t understand what they are doing. For me it is pure madness.”
Security doors in the bunker typically weigh 1 to 4 tons and were built to secure the site as a nuclear fallout shelter during the Cold War. Photo: Ian Austen / NYT 01/25/2022