The Case of Québec and Why Secession is Unlike Brexit

One of the most pernicious falsehoods spread within recent years is that secessionism can be equated with Brexit. A recent example of this is Nick Hopkinson’s article, The UK and Québec have more in common than you think, which like others of its sort is both shallow in its argumentation and incredibly misleading in how it interprets the sovereignty movement in Québec. In rebuttal, I want to do three main things here: first, dismantle Hopkinson’s argument by examining the various errors present in the facts that he presents; secondly, to present a more accurate interpretation of the Québec sovereignty movement; and, finally, to draw some general conclusions on secession and what its actual relationship is to Brexit. My goal in doing this is to liberate secessionism from the negative stigma that is unfairly placed upon it.

What Hopkinson gets Wrong

Much like Hopkinson, I shall begin by saying that I too am an Anglophone who grew up in Québec. Indeed, one of my earliest memories is the Montreal Unity rally and yet, when Brexit happened, I experienced no sense of déjà vu as Hopkinson did. This was because, from every angle, there was little comparison to be made between 1995 Québec and 2016 Britain. Well, perhaps there was one similarity: the lack of violence. Hopkinson overstates the violence of the Front de Libération du Québec (FLQ) for dramatic effect, describing them as though they were comparable to the Provisional Irish Republican Army (IRA). The reality, however, was that the FLQ were a small and ultimately insignificant part of the separatist movement, with a relatively small number of members, of which only a handful would be arrested and imprisoned for the FLQ attacks. Far from the IRA, the FLQ are more comparable to the Scottish National Liberation Army (SNLA), whose violence was similarly never part of the mainstream Scottish independence movement. These types of exaggerations, however, can be excused as they are clearly used for rhetoric effect. After all, Pierre Trudeau really did use the War Measures Act to crush the FLQ and the army really did roll into Montréal.

More troubling, however, are the errors and falsehoods that Hopkinson uses to prop up his comparison between Québec and Brexit. Whether these are malicious lies or simply mis-representations based upon lack of knowledge on the topic I do not know, but either way they are pervasive within his argument. Some of these misrepresentations are simply bizarre, such as the comparison between European Union (EU) citizens residing within the United Kingdom (UK) being denied the right to vote in the Brexit referendum and the Anglophones who left Québec not being able to vote in Québec after leaving. Even he mentions that these two are “not quite analogous”, which only begs the question as to why he brought the two up together at all? Nonetheless, what comparison he believes exists here is simply beyond me, as voting in Canada is naturally tied to one’s province of residence, and so there is little sense in dwelling upon it. As such, I will set aside these nonsensical arguments and instead tackle two of the most glaring falsehoods which he employs as a way to imagine a relationship between Québec and Brexit.

The first of these falsehoods lies in his portrayal of the sovereigntist movement in general as being the same sort of ugly chauvinism that reared its head during the Brexit referendum. While indeed there are bigots and racists among Québec nationalists, which is true of any nationalism of course, they form only a radical fringe of the movement. Once again, the best comparison is not with Brexit but rather would be with that small fringe amongst Scottish nationalists who believe being Scottish has an ethnic requirement. What is truly galling, however, is his attempt to claim that the slogans used during political elections represent the mainstreaming of jingoism amongst Québec sovereigntists. To illustrate my point, lets look at just one of the slogans he claims is “not too dissimilar from [the] ‘take back control’” Brexit slogan: “Maîtres chez nous”. Out of context, this slogan, which translates to “masters in our own home”, could be imagined to be a slogan of chauvinistic racism. However, in actuality it predates the 1995 referendum by nearly 35 years. Long before Québec sovereignty even existed as a political force, “Maîtres chez nous” was the slogan for the Parti Libéral du Québec (PLQ), the party that would become the main federalist party in Québec, in the 1962 election, an election which was almost entirely based on premier and PLQ leader Jean Lesage’s proposition to nationalize Québec’s hydroelectric industry. The election poster hammers this point home, with a hand literally grabbing hold of electricity. Racist? No. To quote Gossage and Little: “The iconic slogan “Maîtres chez nous”…evoked this proposed shift from private to public ownership in the energy sector; the powerful fist clenched around bolts of electricity in this poster is an interesting, if less well remembered, visual clue to this original meaning” (2012, p. 234). The original meaning of the slogan, therefore, had little to do with racism and everything to do with practical, real world issues. However, like all things the meaning of this slogan would broaden over time: “But “Maîtres chez nous” came to be understood much more broadly as a call to modern francophone Quebecers to assume full control of their resources, industries, and institutions…and, by extension, of their political destiny” (Gossage and Little 2012, p. 234). Racist? Again no. The point being made here, both in 1962 and since, was for greater public ownership of Québec industries, which had historically been dominated by English Canada and the US, something which was seen as a necessity after the years spent under premier Duplessis and his laissez-faire economic policies. However, perhaps more importantly, is that this slogan refers to something actionable and real: the need for Québec’s industries to be owned by Québec and to benefit Québécois. This is in sharp contrast with the nonsense of Brexit slogans, like “take back control”, that were specifically used during the Brexit referendum to obfuscate the reality that the UK already was a sovereign nation, something which was ironically illustrated by the very fact that the UK could Brexit at all.

The second falsehood that Hopkinson propagates is that the Québec sovereignty movement is the same sort of false populism as professed by Brexiteers like Boris Johnson. Indeed, many of the leaders of Québec during the Quiet Revolution (a period of Québec history which runs roughly through the 1960s and 1970s) and the period of the two referendums were well educated, but that does not make them comparable to the Eton establishment. After all, schools such as Eton and the Oxbridge universities are the institutions of the old aristocratic order of England which has dominated politics in the UK for centuries, not an “alternative elite in waiting”. Brexit, therefore, can be seen as the successful attempt of a certain segment of the British elite fighting to maintain its historic power. Québec, on the other hand, had no such history of a political class drawn from a small number of elite schools geared towards the upper classes, except perhaps those educated at the Anglophone McGill University. Instead, Québec had been governed largely by a small and agrarian focused elite with the consent of the Catholic Church. The future leaders of the Québec sovereignty movement, as well as many federalist leaders like Pierre Trudeau, came of age during the Quiet Revolution as a generation which rejected this agrarian and Catholic vision of the Québec nation that was embraced by their elders and instead took radical steps to modernize Québec (such as the aforementioned plan to nationalize Hydro-Québec). Moreover, this new political elite, with its socialist leanings, found itself in conflict with the wealthy elite in Montréal and Ottawa who felt their wealth and interests threatened (the stormy relationship between socialist Parti Québécois (PQ) leader René Lévesque and billionaire Paul Desmerais is a good case and point for this). As such, where Brexit leaders pretended to be anti-establishment, Québec sovereigntist leaders often actually were.

These are of course not the only factual flaws in Hopkinson’s argument, and there are indeed many others I have neglected to mention for the sake of brevity. However, they are nonetheless two of the most important falsehoods upon which Hopkinson bases his article and they represent a larger pattern of distorting facts for the sake of presenting a particular argument. Stephan Jay Gould referred to this as shoehorning, in that facts are contorted to fit with pre-existing theories despite the facts not supporting the argument at all (think of having to use a shoehorn to get a foot to fit into a shoe which is too small for it). However, such shoehorning of facts tends to fall apart upon closer examination, as the truth of the matter reveals itself. The reality is that the Québec sovereignty movement is radically different in character and context from Brexit. If, however, it is the case that Brexit is a poor comparative tool for understanding the Québec sovereignty movement, then what is a better way to look at the history and politics of Québec nationalism and sovereignty?

A Better Understanding of Québec Sovereignty

Québec nationalism has a long and rich history, one which is greater in both length and cultural output than Canada’s own. During that long history the issue of Québec independence and distinctiveness were raised many times, most notably during the Lower Canada Rebellion of 1837–1838 and the conscription crisis of the First World War, however I think the best place to begin the narrative of the modern Québec sovereigntist movement is in 1960, with the election of Lesage’s PLQ government and the beginning of the Quiet Revolution. As I have already mentioned, this was a time when a new generation of Francophone Québécois were challenging the existing notions of what Québec is and could be. This generation of political leaders tended to be radical and socialist in their outlook, with a drive to modernize Québec and open it up to the world. This spirit was on full display when it hosted Expo ’67, an event which many nationalists consider Québec’s first step onto the world stage, and when it independently joined the Organisation Internationale de la Francophonie in 1971. The focus of this new nationalism was twofold: to modernize the Québec economy to make it competitive internationally and so it could serve Québécois more effectively and evenly, and also to protect the cultural institutions of the nation. As Québec succeed in becoming wealthier, today the province has the second highest GDP in Canada, the issue of culture came more and more into the forefront. It also did so with good reason.

Contrary to Hopkinson’s claim, the threat to Québec’s language and culture was real. At Confederation in 1867, French had been on roughly equal terms with English throughout Canada. In the intervening century, however, French’s status sharply declined in the rest of Canada, virtually disappearing in many parts of Ontario and Manitoba where it had once thrived. Even in Québec there was a fear that English would dominate the province at some point in the near future, a fear that was in large part based upon the growth of English in Montréal to the point where, by the time of Expo ’67, roughly a third of the population of the city was Anglophone. In retrospect these fears may seem overly dramatized, as French is secure in Québec today with roughly 95% of the population speaking the language, however at the time the threat was real. After all, similar non-state nations such as Wales and Catalonia have seen their once dominant languages decrease in use without state support. It was under the cloud of this fear that Robert Bourassa’s PLQ government passed the Loi sur la langue officielle (Official Language Act) in 1974, an act which would be expanded upon by René Lévesque’s PQ in 1977 with the passing of La charte de la langue française (the Charter of the French Language) — better known as Bill 101. These two bills aimed to safeguard the French language, and by extension culture, by declaring French the sole official language of Québec. Though this had little impact on many public services, courts for example were obliged to still serve people in both official languages, it did have an impact on education as schooling in English would now only be offered to historic Anglophones, meaning that immigrants would have to put their children from the French school system. Private businesses would also see some big changes, as signage was required to be exclusively in French and service in English was not required. Many Anglophones felt discriminated against and left the province and arguments were hurled about that these bills would make Québec less competitive, as Hopkinson does when he claims that “Foreign investors became less interested in a Québec that no longer allowed firms to operate in North America’s lingua franca.” In Anglophone North America, such an argument made sense to many people, but take a moment to imagine such an argument being used in Europe. Should the small countries of Europe, from Finland to Greece, abandon their languages in favour of English simply because it would be better for business? I doubt many in these countries would support such a proposition, but now imagine how the populations of such countries would feel if their larger neighbours were the ones telling them they ought to abandon their native languages. They would be outraged. So why should Québec feel any different when it was told to do so by English Canada (the same English Canada that had allowed French to whither outside of Québec and New Brunswick)? Why would Québec simply accept these arguments against the French language, particularly when French is spoken by an estimated 274 million people worldwide?

All of this discussion regarding culture and language occurred almost entirely during a time when the federalist, and anti-sovereigntist, PLQ dominated Québec politics. There were no separatists in power yet, and this highlights one of the key issues Hopkinson fails to convey: that Québec politics does not pivot on a for or against axis like Brexit. Indeed, virtually all major parties, both the PLQ and PQ as well as more recently the Coalition Avenir Québec (CAQ), have been in agreement over the importance of the French language, the nationhood of Québec, and the need for Québec to have a good deal of devolved power to run its own affairs. This is why every party to gain power in Québec since the Quiet Revolution, regardless of its political stripe, has fought with Ottawa and the Federal Government to win greater devolved power for the province. Therefore, the galvanizing issue, the one which actually draws political lines in Québec, is the debate over the amount of national sovereignty Québec should claim. The debate would boil over in 1976 when René Lévesque’s sovereigntist PQ was elected. Within four years they would hold the first of Québec’s referendum, which would end with a decisive 60 percent win for the federalists. As part of the campaign, Prime Minister Pierre Trudeau promised constitutional reform and by 1982 his promise would become a reality. Trudeau had long sought to patriate the Canadian Constitution and to add a Charter of Rights to it, something which is undeniably commendable and ensures his place as one of Canada’s most important Prime Ministers, but the 1980 referendum gave him a strong platform upon which to advocate for a change in Canada’s constitutional order. Negotiations would prove difficult, but ultimately Trudeau would get his constitution passed and his beloved Charter of Rights enshrined. The problem, however, was that he did all this with the support of every province except Québec. The nine other provinces refused to accept Lévesque’s demand that Québec’s status as a unique society within Canada be entrenched within the constitution, and they and Trudeau cut Québec out of the negotiations. This would be the beginning of the major battle for Québec sovereignty.

It is interesting to me that Hopkinson omits one of the most important sagas in the history of the Québec sovereigntist movement, as it is this which brought Québec so close to independence: the failure of the Meech Lake Accord. Perhaps it is simply that Brexit has no comparable event, no turning point when the population of the nation felt so betrayed by the union they were a part of.

After the failure of the 1980 referendum and the betrayal of the 1982 constitution, there was still hope that the thorny issue of Québec’s status within Canada could be resolved. Lévesque, for his part, was advocating for what he called “le beau risqué” (the noble or good risk): supporting Brian Mulroney’s Progressive Conservative (PC) party. It was a risk because the politics of the PC party were anathema to the PQ and many in Québec in general, but Mulroney had promised he would be less obstinate than Trudeau and ensure a solution to the constitutional issue would be found. Though Mulroney’s personal charisma and Québec origins should not be downplayed, it is no doubt that this promise and Lévesque’s support played a key role in winning the PCs a landslide win in Québec, capturing 58 out of the 75 seats in the province. Though he would not live to see it, Lévesque’s beau risqué would bear fruit and Mulroney would keep his word in the form of the 1987 Meech Lake Accord. This constitutional amendment would enshrine Québec’s unique status within Canada and answer many of the demands that sovereigntists had been making. However, the amendment would require the approval of the other provinces (to be specific, it required the approval of two-thirds of the provinces, which must in their totality represent more than 50% of the Canadian population) and it would never receive this. Though there were certainly some strong arguments against the Accord (many First Nations were frustrated that they too were not being recognized as a distinct society), many of the arguments were based on unfounded fears that such a status would grant Québec unique powers and thereby make it more powerful than the other provinces of Canada. A second attempt at constitutional reform was attempted in 1992 with the Charlottetown Accord, but this too failed under similar circumstances — to this day Québec still has not signed the Canadian constitution. By this point, many in Québec were outraged and angry. There was a general feeling that they had tried hard to be conciliatory, work within the rules of the federal system, and yet had been rejected outright. For the PQ, it was time to cross the Rubicon.

The 1995 Referendum has become the stuff of legends and there have been few political events of such significance in the 150+ years of Canadian history. At the start of the campaign the federalist side looked secure, particularly because the sovereigntist side was headed by PQ premier Jacques Parizeau, an uncompromising leader who proved to have little ability for winning over the undecided. However, over the course of the campaign Parizeau was removed from the helm and replaced with Lucien Bouchard, a talented and charismatic politician who proved more than capable of inspiring the Québécois about the future prospects of an independent Québec. Polls began predicting a win for the sovereigntists and on the night of the referendum the final outcome was anything but certain. Ultimately the federalists would eke out the smallest of victories: only about 1% separated the two sides. On the night of the defeat Parizeau would go on to make his disastrous remarks that the failure was due to “money and the ethnic vote”, a declaration that was condemned as racist by many though did express the reality that the Québec sovereigntist movement had failed to strike a chord with Québec’s Allophone (people who do not speak English or French as a first language) population. Though defeated, Bouchard and the sovereigntists felt the near defeat still constituted a win of sorts, giving a strong indication to the federal government that Québec was serious about separation. Nonetheless, and contrary to what Hopkinson claims, Bouchard would promise not to hold a referendum until winning circumstances exists — generally understood as a poll showing greater than 50% support for independence.

Since then, Québec has remained within Canada and made no further pushes for independence. Nonetheless, it has still held on to its distinct culture and politics, something which has remained at the forefront of the Canadian political discourse thanks to recent bills such as the Charte de la laïcité/Charte des valeurs québécoises (Charter of Québec Values) and Loi sur la laïcité de l’État (An Act Respecting the Laicty of the State) — the history of which I have written about previously. At the federal level, Issues regarding the process of secession have been somewhat settled thanks to the Supreme Court of Canada’s decision on the Reference Re Secession of Québec and in 2006 Stephan Harper’s Conservative Party would pass the Québécois nation motion in the House of Commons. Though short of a constitutional amendment, it did offer a level of recognition long craved for by both federalist and sovereigntist Quebecers. The future of the sovereigntist movement looks dim at the moment, as polls since the 1995 referendum have generally showed support for Quebec’s independence hovering at around 40% (such as this one), though in 2005 there was a spike in support independence that even saw one poll pass the 50% threshold. The recent breakthrough made by the sovereigntist Bloc Québécois in the latest federal elections has given some hope to the movement. Moreover, a recent poll shows that though the majority of Quebec’s youth are agnostic on the issue of independence, they are strong supporters of the Québec’s national identity and the majority of Québécois remain unconvinced that the current Canadian federal order is advantageous for Québec. As I have argued before, writing off Québec separatism as dead is likely nothing more than wishful thinking on the part of federalists.

The reason I have presented this rather long history of the Québec sovereignty movement is to illustrate just how different the reality of the movement has been from the portrayal given by Hopkinson. It is a history which is full of dialogue between federalist and sovereigntist forces, a desire to modernize while defending tradition, and it is most of all not one which equates at all well with Brexit. As I have stressed throughout this history, the main goal of those who fought for independence was for increased sovereignty, not the cutting of ties with neighbours but the redefinition of a relationship between partners. From the start, Lévesque, the father of the movement, was clear on what he envisioned for Québec: an association of sovereign nations. This idea was carried forward, by both sovereigntists and federalists, as they attempted to safeguard Québec’s language and status as a nation through the means they believed best. For people like Lévesque and Bouchard, this meant a transformation of the relationship between Québec and Canada so that it would resemble the EU: with a shared currency, open border, freedom of movement, etc. This similarity was on purpose too, as Lévesque believed that “the two examples that could provide the best inspiration for Quebec and the rest of Canada: those of the Scandinavian Union and the European Economic Community” (1968, p. 94). This fact, that sovereignty association sought to build a Canadian economic union modeled on the EU’s precursor, unmasks the arguments of Hopkinson and those others who claim Québec’s independence is a negative entity resembling Brexit for the bitter fear-mongering that they are. Far from Brexit, with its discussion of borders and glorious isolationism, the mainstream Québec nationalist movement, both federalist and sovereigntist, has long sought an open and more equitable relationship with Canada and the world.

If it is not like Brexit, what is Separatism?

As I said at the beginning of this piece, the idea that separatism is the same beast as Brexit is a pernicious and seemingly omnipresent myth. Hopkinson’s argument has been, virtually verbatim, used by many states to demonize and subvert secessionism within their borders by comparing it with the most terrible forms of nativism. Many in Spain and the UK, for example, denounce Catalan and Scottish separatism by comparing and equating them with Brexit as well. However, are these comparisons fair?

To begin with, lets talk about nationalism a bit more broadly. Firstly, it should be obvious to most that not all nationalisms are the same: being American, Canadian, Québécois, English, Scottish, French, Algerian, Ethiopian, Iranian, Mongolian, Thai or any other nationality is defined in different ways and using different concepts. To equate one with the other on the grounds that they are both instances of nationalism is, simply, wrong. After all, a particular nation’s nationalism finds its grounding using specific civic, culture, and historical touchstones; since secessionism grows from a nation’s wish for sovereignty, then we can understand it too deriving from these same touchstones. For example, Québec nationalism derives its definition from being the only North American territory in which French has remained the dominant language since the foundation of New France. Québec separatism, therefore, derives from the desire to protect and propagate the nation as defined by these particular touchstones. Brexit may similarly derive from the same sort of ambition for greater sovereignty, but does so using a particularly xenophobic and triumphalist reading of British, and in particular English, history that has nothing in common with the motivation or desired outcomes of Québec secession. Indeed, most secessionist movements in developed countries has similar ambitions: without exception, the separatist movements within the EU seek to maintain membership in the EU. If we think about what that means, the difference between Brexit and these cases of secession is obvious: if Catalonia, or example, were to gain independence within the EU, then there would remain no border between it and Spain and no barrier for Spanish people to live and work in Catalonia. A far cry from Brexit.

This is of course not to say that all cases of secessionism are always that of a benevolent movement made up of people aspiring to independence and openness. As I mentioned, each nation uses its own specific touch stones to define its character, a character which is articulated in its goals for secession. The political elite of Ireland, for example, favoured isolationism after winning independence. Moreover, I am also not arguing that there is a single conception of the nation within each nation. For example, as I have said before there are indeed those in Québec who favour a racist definition of the nation that excludes all those who are not ethnically French (referred to in Québec with the code-word of Pure laine). The key, however, is to look at the dominate narratives within the conception of any given nation and define its motivation based on those, not based on the fringes. Therefore, if we compare the core national narratives of secession movements in places such as Québec, Scotland, and Catalonia, we find little that recommends a comparison with Brexit. The latter is an isolationist nationalism seeking to rekindle past glories, the former three all seek an open future which provides better for their respective nations cultural and economic interests. Brexit Britain finds better comparison with those nationalist movements seeking to revive a past golden age while erecting barriers against intrusion from outside entities and foreign nations, such as the Trumpian vision of American nationalism. As for secessionism, as always a better comparison for one case would be another: Québec has a lot more in common with Scotland and Catalonia than it does with Brexit Britain.

So why compare cases of secession with Brexit despite their lack of similarities? Just like those who over-indulge in arguments regarding the economic danger of independence (there are indeed dangers, but they are often exaggerated), such arguments are fundamentally about resisting change and maintaining the status quo. Looking back now, we can see these same sorts of arguments wielded against Ireland and Norway in their quests for independence — should they too have submissively accepted foreign rule? Indeed, the case of Norway is even more frustrating in that it gives us an example of how the dominant nation, in this case Sweden, can build a positive and mutually beneficial relationship with its seceding territory if it deals with separatism in an open manner. Hopkinson posits that Canada would act harshly and vindictively towards an independent Québec, but this is merely a failure in imagination on both his part and those within the halls of power who think his way. As the Norway-Sweden case demonstrates, positive relationships between the separating and rump states can reduce the damage of secession and prove beneficial for both partners in the long term, while building open relationships and institutions that reduce the need for borders helps build national unity and negates the potential for secession to further splinter both states involved.

The most distinctive difference between Brexit and secession, the difference which ought to lead us to automatically reject any statement that the two are the same, is the fact that seceding territories lack sovereignty. Despite all the claims to the contrary, the UK never lost its sovereignty when it joined the EU. This is clearly illustrated by the very fact that the UK has the ability to unilaterally leave the EU. No sub-state nation possesses such a right. This is why Boris Johnson can simply say no to Scottish independence, why the Supreme Court of Canada stated that Quebec cannot unilaterally secede (though it does seem to have the right to unilaterally hold a referendum on secession), and why Spain can forceful shut down a Catalan referendum on independence. Sub-state nations such as these are not sovereign states, after all, and are not protected by any international laws. Instead, sub-state nations seeking independence are completely subject to the sovereignty of the state they are a part of. Brussels has no comparative power over the UK, it only has power over the obligations which the UK has agreed to fulfill as part of its membership to the EU.

Despite Hopkinson’s claims, there is little to commend us to believe that the Québec sovereignty movement, or secession in general for that matter, and Brexit have anything in common. I have taken the time here to dissect his arguments, provide a counter narrative, and draw some general conclusions in the hope that the sort of arguments employed by Hopkinson and others will not be used in the future to mislead people into misinterpreting the politics of yesterday or today. Rather, I hope political discourse favouring openness, both in spirit and practice, will prevail.