Guy Rex Rodgers

Courtesy

By Guy Rex Rodgers

Local Journalism Initiative

No immigrant has been more warmly embraced by Quebec, and no immigrant has been a better ambassador abroad.  Kim Thúy came here in 1978 along with a wave of boat people from Vietnam.  For almost half a century, she has gratefully celebrated the kindness she experienced as a 10-year-old refugee in Granby.

Thúy’s debut novel Ru won the 2010 Governor General’s Award for French-language fiction and the 2015 edition of Canada Reads. The film adaptation premiered at the 2023 Toronto International Film Festival.  Ru reads like an autobiography, of a girl born in 1968 during the Tet Offensive, and then immigrated a decade later to Quebec. Kim Thúy wrote the novel in honour of the people who welcomed her family with Township hospitality when they first arrived in Granby.  Ru is a powerful take of humanity that transcends boundaries and cultures. It has been translated into more than 30 languages and acclaimed internationally.

On September 9, Kim Thúy made her debut as a playwright with Am, the opening production of Théâtre du Nouveau Monde’s 2025/26 season. Nothing in the promo text on TNM’s website suggested that Kim Thúy had written an incendiary cri de coeur.  “With her smiling sincerity, Kim Thúy invites us to share her attentive look at everyday intimacy. A woman and a man meet, and the author allows us to discover this love as she would invite us to observe the blossoming of a flower. However, the relationship between Jacques and Ành is elusive, like water: everything becomes fluid between the Vietnamese woman and the Québécois businessman.”

Am is not a conventional love story about a woman and a man. It is the story of an immigrant and her adoptive homeland. At the end of the play, the immigrant affirms her love for Quebec and the French language. “I will defend this language until the end of my life because it is my language of love.”  But something has changed and the woman is feeling “a profound heartache for Quebec.”

The media wanted to know if the play was as autobiographical as Thúy’s novel, and if she was feeling the same ‘profonde peine d’amour avec Québec’ as her character. Thúy confessed to being deeply disturbed by the surge of anti-immigrant rhetoric in Quebec.  When pressed for an example, she could not cite a specific incident. The situation is elusive and fluid, like water. No single drop of rain causes a devastating flood. Kim Thúy confessed that she can no longer recognize the land that welcomed her as a child, and she has become so disturbed by the change that she is ‘thinking of leaving Quebec.’  

Instantly, Kim Thúy was all over the media, and social media exploded. A predictable group of ethno-nationalists immediately interpreted Thúy’s cri de coeur as Quebec-bashing by an ungrateful immigrant repaying kindness with contempt.  “Why don’t you go back where you came from!  Bon débarras.” Then immigrants defended Kim Thúy and counter-attacked the ethno-nationalists.

Throughout all of this, Kim Thúy remained serene, not taking sides, but in fact defending both sides, and lamenting a double assault on reality. Thúy’s capacity to look at Quebec through a dual lens makes her cri de coeur especially insightful.  She is not accusing friends and neighbours of anti-immigrant rhetoric. She points to ‘political discourse’ that has poisoned the water during the ‘past two or three years.’  This is not the Quebec she knew. Why has the ‘real Quebec’ allowed this to happen? 

The other assault on reality is the demonization of immigrants. The current government has scapegoated immigrants for all the problems they are incapable of fixing. Can’t find a doctor?  Too many immigrants. Not enough teachers?  Too many immigrants. Rents unaffordable? Too many immigrants.  The current government has also blamed a ‘language crisis’ on too many English-speaking students, temporary workers and immigrants. 

For the past ‘two or three years’ I have been touring a documentary film around Quebec, listening to people’s stories, and more recently I have been interviewing ex-students about education in Quebec prior to Bill 101. The people I have been speaking to share three sentiments with Kim Thúy.   First, they have chosen to live in Quebec because it felt like home. Second, they have been disturbed by the swelling tide of xenophobic rhetoric. Third, they have wondered why the majority of Québécois-de-souche — who are friends, neighbours, colleagues and in-laws — have silently allowed Quebec to be changed in so many negative and destructive ways.

Kim Thúy has courageously spoken out in defence of immigrants, who work hard and make valiant efforts to be good citizens in their host country.  She is also speaking in defence of the Quebec that welcomed her as a child and made her proud to rebuild her life here. Until now. Two realities are under assault. Immigrants know their worth. They will stay and prove it, or relocate to a more hospitable society. Who is speaking for the Québécois who do not agree with the anti-immigrant rhetoric?  Why have they allowed their beloved Quebec to be hijacked?

 All the polls show that the CAQ has alienated large segments of the electorate, and every day they find new nails to hammer into their coffin.  The CAQ will soon be gone, but who will replace them? 

Which new leaders will have the courage and vision to restore the reality that made Kim Thúy – and the rest of us – proud to live in Quebec?

Courtesy

By Guy Rex Rodgers

Local Journalism Initiative

Serge Fiori was a leading musical voice of his generation. His sophisticated songs about peace and love were sung in French, yet earned a sizeable audience among English-speakers in Quebec, Canada and the USA.

Harmonium’s biggest selling album, L’Heptade, was released on Nov. 16, 1976, the same day the Parti Québécois was elected to form its first majority government. When Premier René Lévesque led a delegation to California in 1978 to promote Quebec’s culture and political aspirations, Harmonium headlined the tour.  

Last month, the government of Quebec honoured Fiori with a state funeral, attended by a who’s who of Quebec’s cultural and political luminaries. They celebrated his life and legacy with an outpouring of love. When Régis Labeaume, former mayor of Quebec City and old friend, paid tribute to Fiori’s ‘immense desire for political freedom for the people of Quebec,’ mourners erupted in applause and shouts of approval.

The Parti Québécois is currently leading the polls to win the 2026 provincial election, and Paul St-Pierre Plamondon is promising a referendum on independence in the first term. Francophone media have reported growing support for independence among Gen Z voters.  Independentists are more optimistic than they have been for decades. Youth is on their side! Heroes of the 70s like Fiori are on their side! Contemporary leaders like Labeaume are on their side! The independence movement is having a revival. But nationalism comes in many varieties: some are progressive and inclusive; others are regressive and exclude everyone except members of the dominant ‘tribe.’ 

Back in April, Régis Labeaume was vilified by Péquistes. How did Labeaume incur the wrath of the righteous? He questioned the kamikaze intransigence of Parti Québécois leadership. ‘Why rush headlong into a referendum when all the polls predict a humiliating defeat?’ The question was perfectly reasonable; the PQ response was not.

Nationalists would now like to canonize Serge Fiori and add him to their panoply of Saintly Supporters, but he does not easily fit into their ‘us’ versus ‘them’ duality. Fiori grew up in Montreal’s Little Italy. His father was Italian and his mother was francophone. I am currently conducting a research project on immigration and education. The Italian stories are particularly complex because Italians were mostly Catholic and found the French language easy to learn. Of all the immigrant groups that arrived in Quebec, Italians were the most inclined to integrate with the francophone majority. However, Italians believed in the benefits of knowing two or more languages and so they also wanted to learn English.

Journalist Marie-France Bazzo wrote a column in La Presse last year about her own complex Italian family (St-Léonard et moi).  Her father, like Fiori’s was Italian, and her mother was francophone. When Bazzo’s cousin transferred from French elementary school to English high school, a domestic crisis exploded with all the fury of the St-Léonard riots. Bazzo’s militant mother permanently terminated relations with her Italian husband’s family. Bazzo’s father only saw his brother occasionally, and Bazzo was cut off from her beloved cousin for decades. It is a tragic story that illustrates the kamikaze nature of intransigent nationalism.

Italians made valiant efforts to be part of Quebec but they also wanted to be part of the English-speaking world around them. The aspiration was perfectly reasonable; the nationalist response was not. No group was more vilified in the 60s and 70s than Italians for their desire to speak languages other than French.  Serge Fiori, inspired by the Beatles, wrote his first songs in English.  

Harmonium became national heroes in Quebec, but when they started out their music was so different from other Quebec bands that no record label in Montreal would sign them. They had to go to Toronto to sign with Celebration Records to start their career.  Brendan Kelly wrote a tribute in the Gazette to Fiori, who told him that ‘French radio in Montreal wasn’t into the band in the early days. The first station to play Pour un instant was CHOM.’ And because of that early support Fiori always retained a soft spot for the anglo classic-rock station.

In one version of Quebec history, the foundations were laid prior to the Conquest by immigrants who were Catholic and French-speaking, whose country was stolen.  In another version of Quebec history, almost everything in Quebec was built after the Conquest by immigrants of different languages, religions and cultures.  These versions of Quebec history are not incompatible.

It is possible to be a proud nationalist and also celebrate a complex history that acknowledges many partners. Serge Fiori understood this, which was why his music, and his fans, transcend borders.  

Courtesy

By Guy Rex Rodgers

Local Journalism Initiative

Thirty years ago this October, Quebec held a referendum on sovereignty.  After the ballots were tabulated 2,308,360 Quebecers had voted yes and 2,362,648 had voted no.  Everyone old enough to have lived through the bruising battle for independence retains vivid memoires.

The 1995 referendum was the final round of a series of constitutional negotiations that embroiled the entire country from the Meech Lake Accord in 1987 to the Charlottetown Accord, which received the approval of the federal government and all 10 provincial governments, but was rejected by Canadian voters in October 1992.  Disappointment and frustration set the stage for Quebec’s 1995 referendum on sovereignty, a bitterly contested campaign for the future of Quebec and Canada. The referendum is remembered in sound bites and headlines: lobster traps, a federal love-in, allegations of stolen votes, threats of partitions, and the infamous ‘money and the ethnic vote.’

I wonder how many voters remember the referendum question from 1995? It was clearer than the cautious, 106-word question of 1980, which had requested a ‘mandate to negotiate’ sovereignty-association, while promising that ‘any change in political status resulting from these negotiations will only be implemented with popular approval through another referendum.’  The 35-word question of 1995 was more direct. ‘Do you agree that Quebec should become sovereign, after having formally offered Canada a new economic and political partnership under the bill respecting the future of Quebec and the agreement signed on June 12, 1995?’

The referendum question spawned a multitude of ancillary questions. Some of them pragmatic: what if Canada does not accept the offer outlined in the June 12 agreement? Other questions were existential: what if a majority of Quebecers votes yes, but the minority who votes no refuses to leave Canada?  Divorces are rarely simple or collaborative.

The philosophical question raised by the referendum was simply: why? Why are we doing this? In the case of a divorce, the reason is clear.  “I am so unhappy in this relationship that I am prepared to endure almost anything and lose almost everything to get out of it.”  Some who voted for independence were adamant that any price was worth paying to free Quebec from its intolerable relationship with Canada.  And yet the agreement signed on June 12, 1995 outlined a ‘partnership treaty’ whereby Canada and Quebec would ‘share power’ over trade, monetary policy, citizenship and use of the Canadian dollar.  The 1995 referendum proposed a revised partnership rather than a divorce. 

A cynic could infer that the Parizeau-Bouchard-Dumont plan was yet another variation of Yvon Deschamps’ ‘independent Quebec within a united Canada.’  A realist would observe that history and geography make it inevitable that Quebec will collaborate on multiple levels with its nearest neighbours.

The philosophical question remained: why?  Every book I have read that promotes Quebec’s independence begins with the Conquest of 1759, perceived as a brutal and humiliating loss for the inhabitants of Nouvelle France. The underlying reason for independence is to undo the damage of the Conquest. The dream is to liberate the descendants of Nouvelle France from the Conqueror and restore pre-Conquest culture and language.  Would sovereignty-association or a renewed partnership treaty with Canada erase the Conquest?  Would political autonomy for Quebec remove the English-language and its influence? Current polling shows Quebecers are far more favourable toward bilingualism than a 3^rd referendum.  

Thirty years probably gives us enough distance to reflect on the 1995 referendum with some objectivity.  I am conducting a research project and inviting people to share their memories of 1995, their reaction to the outcome, and thoughts about the 3^rd referendum that the Parti Québécois is promising to hold if they win next year’s election. This research is connected to work I have been doing to investigate education in Quebec.  Many readers of Townships Weekend have filled out the education survey and I have enjoyed fascinating and informative conversations with you. I’m sure you have vivid memories of 1995 and strong thoughts about a 3^rd referendum. I invite you to take a few minutes to fill out a short survey at the following url. I look forward to hearing from you.   https://tinyurl.com/surveyOuiNon1995

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By Guy Rex Rodgers

Local Journalism Initiative

The past really is a strange place. Over the past few weeks, I’ve had the opportunity to visit it in the company of Quebecers who started school here between the Second World War and Bill 101 in 1977. They have been sharing stories about their education experience as part of a research project I am conducting.

Most of us know that before Quebec began transitioning to linguistic schools in 1997, we had denominational school boards based on religion.  However, I spoke to one man who attended English Protestant school in Rosemount during the 60s but didn’t realize until middle age that his school had been ‘denominational.’ It had simply been the local school where ‘everybody’ went.

Other people have vivid memories of religion and education. Quebec’s French Catholic school system began turning away immigrants in large numbers after the Second World War. This was partly because the Baby Boom filled schools to the rafters, and partly because record numbers of immigrants arrived, although the English Protestant and English Catholic systems succeeded in integrating large numbers of immigrant children while struggling to manage their own Baby Booms.

It is an established fact that French Catholic schools did not accept non-Catholics. Thousands of Jewish students were sent to the English Protestant system.  It is also an established fact that French Catholic schools did not accept Protestants, which included Greek students, although Orthodox theology was closer to Catholicism than any form of Protestantism.   It is not an established fact –  indeed it is still highly controversial – that French Catholic schools turned away thousands of Catholic students because they were immigrants. 

A tidal wave of Italians arrived in Quebec after the Second World War and, according to available data, the percentage of Italian students who attended English schools grew from 25% (1941) to 75% (1971).  What was going on? School records shed no light on whether Italians were increasingly attracted to English schools or increasingly turned away from French schools. That is one of the reasons we are conducting research.  

A woman whose parents fought to get her into a French Catholic school was shocked that all the teachers were nuns. Back in 1950s Italy, the education system employed professionally trained lay teachers. Her parents moved her to an English Catholic school so she could get more education and less religion. Another woman remained in a French Catholic school but founded the constant emphasis on religion disturbing. She told a strange story about a nun who died, and then her mortal remains were exposed in the school for a week.

A number of Jewish students who arrived from French-speaking countries tried to get into French Catholic schools but were turned away. If there are any exceptions to this ‘rule’ I would love to speak to them.  In the meantime, I am happy to speak to students who followed the familiar path of enrolling in the English Protestant and English Catholic systems.

One aspect of the education story unfamiliar to me was the French section within the Protestant school system. Originally it was created for a smaller number of Huguenots, but during the 1960s French-speaking immigrants from the Maghreb arrived in Quebec. Turned away from the French Catholic system, many enrolled in French Protestant schools. They were followed by Haitian immigrants who were also Francophone but not Catholic.  The French Protestant system grew to be quite large.  This is a particularly interesting and little known part of Quebec’s byzantine education system. I would like to speak to more people who experienced the French Protestant educational environment.

The unintended consequence of creating so many alternate forms of education was that untold numbers of students were educated in English (Protestant and Catholic), and growing numbers were educated in the French Protestant system. This left the majority of Catholic French-speakers segregated and isolated.  Everything changed in 1977 when the PQ hastily implemented Bill 101.  All immigrants, even English-speakers, had to attend French schools.

Educators trained to teach Francophone children suddenly found their classes filling with immigrant children whom they could not understand, and who could not understand them.  Classes d’accueil were only implemented later.  “They didn’t teach us French. They taught us math IN French, and we couldn’t understand anything!”  It was brutal, like emergency surgery without anesthetic. Many of the guinea pig children of Bill 101 still bear the scars. 

This is a complex story that can only be understood through lived experiences.  If you were educated in Quebec – in any of the school systems: English, French, Catholic or Protestant – please take a few minutes to fill out the Quebec School Question survey via this link.  http://tiny.cc/QSQ

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By Guy Rex Rodgers

Local Journalism Initiative

I was not born in Quebec so my education options were the neighbourhood public school or a more remote, and much more expensive, private school. My parents opted for the neighbourhood school.  It was a simple choice.  I was surprised when I arrived in Quebec to learn that children educated here prior to Bill 101 had to make a choice based on religion and then another choice based on language.

Over the past few years, as I have been making documentary films about Anglos and Allophones in Quebec, I have discovered strange aspects of the pre-Bill 101 school system.  The goals of Bill 101 were logical and defensible – it is important for immigrants to share the language of their host society. The system prior to Bill 101 was neither logical nor defensible. The French Catholic schools created a demographic time bomb by turning away multitudes of immigrant children because they were non-Christian (Jews and Muslims), non-Catholic (Greek Orthodox and Protestants) or, in the case of Catholics (Italians and Hispanophones), for reasons that no one has ever been able to explain. 

Jacques Parizeau never appreciated the dark irony of blaming the 1995 referendum decision on the ‘ethnic vote’ after Quebec’s majority culture had rejected so many ‘ethnics’ from its schools. When victims of this discrimination speak about it, their experience is dismissed as an isolated incident, or as an outright lie.

Nobody knows how many immigrant children were turned away from French Catholic Schools. Was it hundreds?  Thousands?  Tens-of-thousands? The best way to shed some light on this opaque subject is to ask the students. I have received funding from the Secretariat aux relations avec les Québécois d’expression anglaise to conduct a research project. The first step is a short on-line survey. It takes only a few minutes, and you can fill it out anonymously. I am happy to note that most of the people who have filled out the survey have also volunteered to participate in an interview.

If you received your elementary education in Quebec prior to Bill 101, please take a few minutes to share your story on the Quebec Schools Question survey at   http://tiny.cc/QSQ   

The responses are fascinatingly diverse.  Some immigrants, and even a few Anglos, insisted on getting into a French Catholic school and were accepted. Other students had parents who pioneered immersion schools and bilingual education. A small number of francophone students were agnostics or atheists who did not want to enroll in either Catholic system, and they did not want to be educated in English, so they enrolled in the small French Protestant system.

The largest school boards were French Catholic, and they were quite homogenous because they accepted few ‘outsiders’.  The second largest boards were English Protestant and they were highly diverse because they enrolled Jewish students, Greek Orthodox, Chinese and most of the Black students.  The English Catholic school board, initially created for the Irish, became much more diverse after the Second World War as Italians, Germans, Ukrainians and Hispanophones joined their ranks.  The French Protestant system was quite small until the 60s when French-speaking non-Catholics from the Maghreb and Haiti immigrated to Quebec. The range of educational choices was dizzyingly complex until Bill 101 obliged all immigrant children to attend French schools, which were still Catholic until the switch to linguistic schools boards.

The raw data from the short survey will provide a sense of proportion. What percentage of students were turned away from French Catholic schools compared to the percentage that freely chose one of the non-French-Catholic options? The short survey will also indicate if patterns varied over time. Was it easier to get into a French Catholic school before or after the Baby Boom? We will also be able to test the theory that rejection was more common in Montreal than in the regions. And were there difference between parishes?

The in-depth interviews will provide invaluable data about educational outcomes.  The Italian community is a model of adaptability. Whether Italian students were admitted into the French or English system, most of them – pragmatically and sensibly – learned both of Canada’s official languages. The efforts that non-Francophone families made to acquire French language skills is not appreciated and should be celebrated.  The first step is to collect stories from former students, so I’m asking you to take a few minutes to fill out the survey. http://tiny.cc/QSQ   

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By Guy Rex Rodgers

Local Journalism Initiative

Sugar Sammy is back with You’re Gonna Rire 2, his new bilingual show. I was curious. The friendly greeting Bonjour-Hi makes some people angry.  The CAQ government’s campaign to eliminate languages other than French makes other people angry. What happens when you bring a random crowd together and set a rapier-tongued provocateur loose among them? Would they all laugh? At the same jokes? Or take turns seething with indignation?

Sugar Sammy advises the audience early in the evening, ‘You’re gonna hate 10% of my show. But you’ll love 90%.’ He delivers on his promise – everybody laughs, and everybody gets laughed at. This is the genius of his humour, it is grounded in how we see ourselves, how we see our neighbours, and how they see us.

Most of the time we are barely conscious of the tribes we belong to and the places where we feel like insiders.

Sugar Sammy asked an audience member his name – Antonio.  Based on that single piece of information he guessed the man’s tribe – Italian, which led to a prediction of where the man grew up – Saint-Léonard –  a clichéd guess confirmed true, and Sammy guessed, correctly, how many languages Antonio speaks – three.  Then Sugar Sammy riffed on Italian values, Italian mothers and Italian food.  Italians in the audience found this hilarious, because these are stories shared within the tribe about families, traditions and values that shape personal identity.   

But why would these ‘insider’ jokes be funny, or even comprehensible, to non-Italians? This is where Sugar Sammy’s schtick rises to the level of art – and a profound understanding of human nature. We all look at life through multiple lenses. We are ‘insiders’ within our ethnic tribes, our social status, our gender, and our age demographic.  As insiders, we can question tribal expectations and even joke about traditions hammered into us by our elders. Within the tribe, we share experiences and a version of reality. We all live within multiple tribes.

All of us also have places where we feel like outsiders. Sugar Sammy has a clear affinity for underdogs, newcomers, the marginal and the powerless. Many of his sharpest jokes are directed at the overlords, the de souche, the privileged and the powerful. In Quebec, that group is largely populated by Francophones.  One of the oddities of Quebec is that the ruling majority sees itself as a threatened minority. There is some truth to this belief, and also a large dose of self-serving nonsense that is laughable.

In May 2023, Le Devoir headlined an article – « Sugar Sammy, l’incarnation du Québec Bashing » To criticise the majority automatically qualifies as Quebec bashing. To laugh and mock is worse. Sugar Sammy gleefully fires away. He has developed huge audiences in France, the USA and English Canada. Quebec is lucky he still makes time for a visit. 

One of the running gags in the show was about Quebec’s ‘fundamental value’ of male-female equality. Recent male immigrants, who hold tradition conservative values, see ‘modern’ women as loud, bossy and unattractive. This gag got a lot of laughs. Was the audience laughing at ‘progressive’ women or ‘regressive’ men? Or both?  All audience members will make their own judgement about which 90 % of the show is hilarious funny and which 10% is outrageously offensive. 

I was impressed by the diversity in the audience, which reflected the reality of Quebec. The largest tribe was Francophones, of different ages and origins. The second largest group was Allophones, some of whom were also members of visible minorities.  Sugar Sammy presumed, and the laughter confirmed his belief, that Allophones speak both French and English well, and they understand Canada’s ‘founding peoples’ better than they are understood.

The smallest audience group was Anglos. Another of the running gags was that Anglos have become bilingual but are not yet bicultural, so Sugar Sammy had to explain all the francophone cultural references. This is a cliché, but the audience confirmed it is based in reality. A lot of Sammy’s jokes are based on realities that we rarely discuss in public and never in ‘mixed company.’

Sugar Sammy is an unrepentant provocateur.  His show is offensive. And hilarious. And thought-provoking. I also found it profoundly optimistic. Thousands of Quebecers are flocking to see a bilingual show – horror! – that skewers some of our most sacred cows – double horror!   We laughed as insiders and outsiders, at a French-English show that would make little sense anywhere else. We came away understanding each other a little better, and remembering why we love this crazy place.   

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By Guy Rex Rodgers

Local Journalism Initiative

‘We the people’ is an empowering concept, unless your people are out of power, or they are part of a minority overpowered by a rival clan.   

Democracy was built on the idea that ‘we the people’ can stand together to defend ourselves from tyrants and adversity. United, we can weather tempests and, after the storm, share the burden of reconstruction.

Unity has always been an elusive aspiration because human nature is fundamentally selfish. ‘Me first’ is basic survival instinct. In dog-eat-dog competition, the shrewdest and most ruthless live the longest. But that is not a life most people will choose if other options are available.

Given a choice, most of us will cooperate for mutual benefit, which begins with the family, extends to the clan and can ultimately encompass total strangers, although that is an unnatural relationship. Why should anyone share anything with strangers?  What is the motivation to assist needy people in a different part of the city?  Or in a different part of the country?  Or in a foreign country on the other side of the world?

One motivation to help strangers is empathy. The sight of suffering stirs our emotions. Another motivation to help our neighbour in times of trouble is the expectation that they will reciprocate when we need help. A world without empathy, reciprocity and cooperation is a sad and lonely place.

The current US president has embarked upon a campaign of America First. It is shocking to see the USA exert its considerable might in the pursuit of self-interest, ignoring friendships, alliances and principles. It seems illogical. Entire industries will be damaged, billions of dollars will be lost and multitudes will suffer, on both sides of the border.     

What is the motivation? What is to be gained?   

These are the wrong questions. There is no mystery in the selfishness of human nature or in the temptation for the powerful to exploit the weak. The real mystery is why concepts like empathy, reciprocity and cooperation inspire the human imagination, at least between periods of ‘me first.’

There is something otherworldly, almost miraculous, about strangers cooperating. This miracle requires trust and leadership.  In Canada, we have been blessed for many years to live under these conditions. Our leaders have not been perfect, nor has our democracy. But, to paraphrase Winston Churchill, we had the best option available.

Now it is threatened. The most pressing danger gathers outside our borders. The current US president could create such chaos and hardship that an offer of peace, in the form annexation, might appeal to a majority of Canadians. Those who prefer the old Canada would be lost within a double minority, as naysayers within a 51^st state, and as unwanted aliens within the encroaching Empire.

We live in Quebec. I’m writing this column in English. Here we have our own issues of tribal dominance, which are also on the rise. The CAQ government has been busily re-defining which Quebecers have full citizenship rights.  This government is not using economic warfare. There are no soldiers in the streets.  The battle is cold-bloodedly bureaucratic.  

The CAQ government has passed a series of interlocking laws to define Quebec’s values and identity: Bill 21 (Secularism) in 2019, Bill 40 (Education) in 2020, Bill 96 (Language) in 2022, and the latest tabled this year, Bill 84 (National Integration).  These laws override minority rights that should be guaranteed by Quebec’s Charter of Human Rights and Freedoms. ‘We the people’ no longer means that all Quebecers share the same rights and freedoms. The new definition of ‘we the people’ prioritizes collective values that the CAQ believe are shared by ‘true Quebecers.’  People with different values (languages or religions) can submit to the will of the majority or pack their bags. These are grim choices.

We have no reason to expect special consideration from a foreign government. In fact, we should prepare for the worst from the current US administration, and not expect a return to  ‘normal’ even after the next election.  We do have a right to expect more of our own government, and we have a right to be angry about the divisive identity politics they have exploited. It will be poetic justice for Legault and the CAQ to be soundly defeated in the upcoming provincial election.  Will the next government have the wisdom to restore a definition of ‘we the people’ that includes all of us?  Maybe an external threat is what we need to bring us back together.

Photo courtesy
Scene from Fritz Lang’s dystopian 1927 film Metropolis.

By Guy Rex Rodgetrs

Local Journalism Initiative

In 1961, Stanley Milgram conducted a social psychology experiment at Yale University that could only have been justified as an attempt to understand the horrors of the Second World War. Milgram wanted to measure the willingness of study participants to obey an authority figure who gave instructions to perform acts that conflicted with their personal conscience. The experiment was simple. And horrifying. Each participant believed they were an assistant in the experiment, rather than the subject. The project leader directed the ‘assistant’ to administer electric shocks to a ‘learner’ as punishment for wrong answers. The ‘assistant’ was directed to increase the voltage at each ‘punishment’ until reaching levels that would have been fatal had they been real.

The Milgram experiment found that most ‘assistants’ would obediently administer painful 300 volt shocks, and 65% would follow instructions to inflict the full ‘potentially lethal’ 450 volts. 

Why were participants in a study willing to inflict severe pain on a total stranger? Social scientists have sought answers to this question for decades. Did participants simply allow an authority figure to silence their conscience?  Or did participants need to fabricate a justification for their compliance?

In November, the Gaspé municipal council wrote to its English-speaking citizens via facebook informing them that it can no longer communicate in English because of Bill 96 *.  The council explained that they had protested the new policy and pleaded for exemptions. “Although we support the preservation of the French language in Quebec, we believe the historical, social, cultural, and economic significance of Gaspé’s English-speaking and Mi’gmaq communities warrants acknowledgment. While French may be in decline across Quebec, it is English that faces decline here in Gaspé, our town built on a linguistic and cultural diversity we strive to preserve. However, this recommendation was rejected by the National Assembly, meaning Gaspé must comply with the Act as all other municipalities.”

Imposing the language policy was clearly painful for the mayor and the municipal council but the consequences of disobedience are severe.  “It is important to note that if Gaspé were to disregard the Act (Bill 96), the main penalty could be the loss of access to all government grants or financial assistance. This could amount to millions of dollars annually, significantly impacting property taxes for residents.”

When the Coalition Avenir Québec government sought support for Bill 96 they ran ads declaring, ‘We have to protect French in Québec.’ (Simon Jolin-Barrette) and ‘It is reasonable and necessary.’ (François Legault).  The Gaspé municipal council does not think these new measures are reasonable or necessary or that they protect French.  But they felt compelled to comply with the law.

I am not accusing Gaspé municipal council members of cowardice for allowing ‘authority figures’ to override their ‘personal conscience’.  The Gaspé council members had the courage to publically declare their discomfort with enforcing aspects of Bill 96 that harm vulnerable minorities without helping Quebec’s French language and culture. But they decided to comply with the law.

Where does this ‘punishment’ to Gaspé’s English-speaking and Mi’gmaq communities rate on the Milgram scale? Is this a minor tingle at 25 volts? A perfectly bearable 100-volt blast?  Would it be harder to comply at 300 volts?  Milgram’s ‘assistants’ inflicted pain on strangers. Is it harder to inflict pain friends and neighbours? 

As every salesperson knows, if you can get the customer to say yes once – even to an insignificant question – it becomes easier to close a deal. Authority figures know that the first battle with conscience is difficult, but once the conscience has been silenced, everything that follows is easy.  

Are we reaching dangerous voltage levels with Bill 96? How many of our friends and neighbours have been harmed by restrictions or cuts? How many of us have heard and seen things that felt wrong?

Doctors and nurses have muttered that new language laws complicate and confuse their work. Who is better able to evaluate what is better for patients and healthcare workers, the people on the ground or authority figures in Quebec City? And what if complicated, confusing directives are not only harming Quebec’s citizens, but are also harming Quebec’s French language, culture and reputation?       

If the authorities will not revise flawed laws, or repeal them, then the human conscience must find the courage to resist cold-blooded social engineering.

Guy Rex Rodgers was founding Executive Director of the English Language Arts Network (ELAN) until returning to filmmaking. You can reach Guy at: GRR.Montrealer@gmail.com

* Ville de Gaspé –  Important Notice to the English-speaking Community /Avis important à notre population Anglophone (November 2024)

Photo courtesy

By Guy Rex Rodgers

Local Journalism Initiative

The 1960s were stormy years in Quebec. One of the most consequential battles of the era exploded in Saint-Léonard.  A new film by Félix Rose makes the case that La Bataille de Saint-Léonard (1968) was the impetus for Bill 101.

Félix Rose deserves full marks for archival research.  His film shows Italian parents and their children inhabiting a brand new neighbourhood rising in bushland. We see diverging visions of education that degenerate into streets battles and death threats. We see panicked politicians struggle to find a peaceful comprise, which is impossible as the crowds grow larger and angrier.  The film works hard to recreate the passions of the era. This makes for a rip-roaring film experience. Josée Legault, Journal de Montréal: Il faut courir voir « La bataille de Saint-Léonard. »

Rose’s story-telling technique is less successful for a history documentary. It does not create the space to view events and motivations from an objective distance. It does not ask new questions or listen to new voices. This is a pity because the Saint-Leonard riots were a pivotal event in Quebec’s history.

In the twenty years following the Second World War, more than 150,000 Italians migrated to Quebec, which offered the New World in a version that was strongly Catholic and where the majority spoke French, a language close to Italian. It was an attractive combination. Things didn’t work out as planned.  Quebec was in the throes of an extraordinary baby boom. Schools were full. They did not need immigrants.

Quebec’s predominant school system was Catholic and French. There was also a Protestant system, that was mostly English, and a small English-Catholic network of schools created for the Irish. Which system would make room for the thousands of new immigrants? The French Catholic system rejected non-Catholics: all the Jewish kids and the Greek Orthodox, as well as French-speaking Protestants. What about Italian kids, who were Catholic? This is where the story becomes complicated. Some Italians were accepted into French Catholic schools. Many were rejected.  Rose’s film adopts the Nationalist narrative that immigrants were to blame for rejecting French schools because English was the language of work and prosperity, while French was the language of poverty and humiliation.

Context is important. Saint-Leonard was a brand new district built by Italians and mostly populated by Italians. They left their homes in districts such as Saint-Michel, Rosemount or NDG to buy a house in Saint-Leonard. Many of the kids moving there had already attended English Catholic schools because that’s were they were sent by the neighbourhood French Catholic school. 

A new French Catholic school board was created for Saint-Leonard.  Many Italian parents enrolled their children in schools that offered a bilingual curriculum. This was a time when radio and TV stations were experimenting with bilingual programming.  Montreal was de facto bilingual, so why not bilingual schools?  It was a reasonable question then, and is still pertinent today.

The human story behind the Battle of Saint Leonard is complex.  The politics of the day reduced it to a stark duality.  On one side, a bunch of foreigners manipulated by Quebec’s hereditary enemies – the English; on the other side, Quebec’s underdogs fighting to defend their language, culture, history and soul!

The leader of the ruling Union Nationale party proposed a law to provide freedom of choice in education. Jean-Jacques Bertrand allegedly justified this solution because, ‘We fought on the Battle on the Plains of Abraham and lost….’ J-J Bertrand and the Union Nationale party lost the 1970 election and were erased from history.  Robert Bourassa’s Liberal’s gained power and passed a language law that alienated Anglos but did not placate French Nationalists. In the 1976 provincial election, a new party founded by René Levesque took power. The Parti Québécois immediately passed Bill 101.

We still do not have linguistic peace. Many Quebecers (46%) have quietly chosen to be bilingual, and that is a problem for people who insist that the only official language in Quebec is French, as if being bilingual is incompatible with speaking French and enjoying French culture. I have interviewed hundreds of Quebecers who arrived in successive waves of immigration. Most were happy to learn French… and English. Most Italians learned French, even if French schools in the pre Bill-101 era rejected them. This complex history needs to be confronted and reckoned with.  Films like La Bataille de Saint-Léonard do not help us understand why it was a mistake to villainize multilingual minorities in the past.  It is inexcusable today.

Photo courtesy

By Guy Rex Rodgers

Local Journalism Initiative

Let’s start with courage. Full marks to citizens who raised their voices against this summer’s bizarre 31-page health ‘directive’ that made it sound like it was necessary to hire a team of lawyers or win a bureaucratic lottery to qualify for healthcare in English. The brave citizens deserve full marks for courage because they were accused, as has been the typical response in the era of Bill-96 against anyone who questions the new language laws, of being part of an elitist, Quebec-bashing, Anglo cabal.

Our elected members of the National Assembly also demonstrated courage by unanimously affirming that English-speaking Quebecers don’t need a certificate to prove they’re entitled to English-language education in order to receive health care and social services in English. No conditions. Period.

Liberal MNAs exposed themselves to the serious political risk of reaffirming their public image as the party controlled by an elitist, Quebec-bashing Anglo cabal. CAQ and PQ MNAs exposed themselves to the serious political risk of being branded hypocrites who are easily manipulated to abandon Quebec’s official language and culture.

Prime Minister Trudeau and Premier Legault can also claim to have made courageous stands. Prime Minister Trudeau, after ignoring Bill 96 and its disturbing ramifications and after abandoning Quebec’s minority English-speaking community while rewriting the federal Official Languages Act, finally spoke out against Bill 96’s negative impact. The cynical could suspect his primary motivation in speaking up for minorities was to earn votes in an important by-election in LaSalle-Émard-Verdun. Prime Minister Trudeau’s ‘too-little-too-late’ courageous stand was rewarded with a by-election vote of no confidence.

What can we say about Premier Legault’s response to Prime Minister Trudeau’s accusation? Did Premier Legault courageously set the record straight?  Or was he blowing smoke out of both sides of his mouth to create a distracting cloud of confusion?  

Health Minister Dubé displayed courage in writing a succinct, relatively clear health directive on September 20.  So what was the purpose of the lengthy, convoluted and disturbing health directive issued by Language Minster Roberge two months earlier, which has now been repudiated?

Have these new statements ended the confusion?

Alas, no.

Forgive me for being cynical. But I have been watching and listening to the CAQ government justify Bill 96 for three years now. The right to work and live in French is primordial. The right to services in English is conditional. The CAQ have made it clear that their end game is to restrict English-language education to ‘historic Anglos’ who can obtain an eligibility certificate. The CAQ have also made it clear they want to restrict all government services to ‘historic Anglos’ plus recent immigrants, but only during their first six months in Quebec. The plan behind Bill 96 has been perfectly clear and loudly trumpeted. But now Premier Legault and the National Assembly assure us that anybody and everybody will receive health services in English, without condition or qualification. How is this coherent with the rest of Bill 96? How are these ‘feel good’ affirmations credible?

During the past few years we have heard, from the highest levels of government, that Quebec is being turned into Louisiana north by too much English on public signs and spoken on the streets. The government is even spending millions to eradicate the monosyllable ‘hi’ that has offended shoppers. We have been told that Quebec must become entirely French, and that this work of purification must be implemented in an exemplary manner by all government departments and agencies.

Where did this lead? In the realm of healthcare it led us – predictably – into a head-on collision of clashing-rights. It is quite possible for healthcare workers to believe they have the right to work only in French and to believe that by serving non-Francophones only in French they are actually helping them integrate into the new Quebec that Bill 96 is designed to create. It is also easy to believe stories about healthcare workers taking an English-speaking patient into a private room and whispering to them in English because they are afraid of being reported by colleagues for breaking the language law.

It was shocking for minorities that Bill 96 invoked the notwithstanding clause to circumvent their Charter rights. Now it is equally shocking for supporters of Bill 96 that Premier Legault and the National Assembly have declared that access to English-language health services will not be subjected to a single condition or qualification. Clashing rights – like the right to work in one language and the obligation to provide services in another – need a clear framework, not an improvised response to bad PR.

This isolated ‘clarification’ has only added to the confusion.

 Guy Rex Rodgers

Photo courtesy

By Guy R Rodgers

Local Journalism Initiative

In August I had the pleasure of being invited to Bishop’s University to show my documentary film What We Choose To Remember. The annual Bishop’s Forum offers young leaders (18-26) an “immersive look at Quebec’s political, social and economic systems and the opportunity to connect with youth from across the province.” Other presenters at the Forum included Jean Charest, former premier of Quebec, and Éric Girard, Quebec Minister of Finance and Minister Responsible for Relations with English-Speaking Quebecers.

Just a few years ago, I would have expected youth to be preoccupied with environmental and social justice issues, dismissing language conflicts as old fashioned and irrelevant to their reality. However, after two years of Bill 96 and an aggressive government campaign against English-language institutions of Higher Education – because too many English-speakers are bad for Quebec, and because English-language institutions of Higher Education corrupt Allophones and Francophones – I was disturbed, but not surprised, that young English-speakers are concerned about language and have serious questions about their future in Quebec.

“Does our government want us to leave?”

Last year, after a screening my film in the Eastern Townships, a member of the audience stood up to say, “My family has farmed here for 193 years. Because of Bill 96 we are wondering if the government will help us celebrate 200 years in Quebec, or if they would prefer to see us pack our bags and leave.”  No one in the audience jumped up to say, “That’s crazy talk!”

The Coalition Avenir Québec government has polarized language to a degree not seen since le Front de Liberation du Québec (FLQ) was terrorizing Anglo Quebec with bombs in mailboxes while presenting themselves as heroic freedom fighters.  The last period of intense conflict triggered an exodus. 

Does our government want to provoke another Anglo exodus?

 When Anglos and Allophones expressed concerns about Bill 96, their questions were dismissed as predictable rhetoric. “Privileged Anglos fought Bill 101 for decades and will obstruct Quebec every time it defends its language and culture.” Serious concerns about using the notwithstanding clause to negate protected rights were dismissed as routine obstructive rhetoric. When educators and students contested improvised attacks on universities and CEGEPS, they were dismissed as whiners too entitled to appreciate the privileges heaped upon the best-treated minority in the world. More recently, when serious questions were raised about access to healthcare in English, questioners were ridiculed as too concerned with their own ‘privileges’ to recognize the higher right of healthcare professionals to work in French.

What is going on here? Does the government have a sinister plan to progressively eliminate minority rights until all Anglos and Allophones assimilate or pack their bags and leave?  Much of the Francophone media dismiss such questions as Quebec bashing. Quebec’s Francophones-de-souche are “the most tolerant, welcoming and generous people in the world” while Quebec’s Anglos are “the most privileged, pampered and ungrateful minority.”

This irreconcilable culture clash reminds me of an incident when I was on the founding board of le Conseil des Arts et des Lettres du Québec. A fellow board member, an award-winning playwright who would go on to become one of Quebec’s best-selling novelists, loved to demonstrate her urbanity by peppering her speech with English words. Still popular in France, this pretention was fashionable in Quebec prior to the current regime of linguistic puritanism that sternly rebukes public use of English words and anglicisms.

One morning in Quebec City, as we met in the hotel dining room at breakfast, my colleague greeted me with, “Good morning, Mr. Rodgers, how are you?” I replied, “I’m very well and how are you?” Her reaction was extraordinary. The blood drained from her face and she staggered backwards muttering her shock at being brutally accosted in English. My effrontery was particularly inexcusable in public, at a meeting of CALQ, which was created to promote and protect French culture. Shocking!

It was no use pointing out that she had accosted me or that I was merely replying in the language and, seemingly, playful spirit of her greeting.

I had misunderstood the rules of engagement. For her to say a few words of English was a sign of her urbanity. Addressing me in English was a declaration that her Quebec is tolerant, welcoming and generous. But only up to a point. To protect its endangered language, Quebec must enforce zero tolerance on privileged, pampered, ungrateful Anglos imposing their language everywhere they go. If Anglos don’t like it, they are always welcome to relocate somewhere in the vast Anglosphere.    

I understand perfectly why today’s English-speaking youth are confused – and disturbed – by the mixed signals they are receiving.

Guy Rex Rodgers was founding Executive Director of the English Language Arts Network (ELAN) until returning to filmmaking. You can reach him at: GRR.Montrealer@gmail.com

Guy Rex Rodgers and Alain Simard July 2024. Photo: courtesy

By Guy Rex Rodgers

Local Journalism Initiative

What Quebecer has not enjoyed a summer’s day at the Montreal International Jazz Festival? Over the years, we came to take for granted the throngs of people of all ages and backgrounds happily enjoying the music and the street performances, some scripted and others purely spontaneous. We recalled how extraordinary it was through the eyes of out-of-town visitors marvelling that so much was freely available to so many.

Montreal’s jazz festival was a reflection of its co-founder, Alain Simard. During the 2024 edition of the festival Simard, now retired, launched a book about his dream to create a festival that became one of the biggest and most popular in the world.

Full disclosure, I worked with Alain Simard and the festival for several years, interviewing artists for televised concert broadcasts. The Gatsby-era solid oak desk in my office belonged to Alain when he founded the jazz festival in 1980.    

Simard’s book Je rêvais d’un festival¹ is the story of a young man discovering culture, politics, the music business and entrepreneurial skills that would enable him to create Montreal’s International Jazz Festival. The book is also a fascinating encapsulation of contemporary Quebec history.  

Born in 1950 in Villeray, not far from Michel Tremblay’s Plateau, Simard experienced the end of the Duplessis era, now remembered as La Grande Noirceur (the Great Darkness). It is difficult in today’s militantly secular society to imagine that Quebec was so recently deeply religious. Simard’s family was no exception, in the faith of his youth or the subsequent embrace of secularism.  

The 1960s in Quebec were an explosively exciting march to modernity with the creation of a Church-independent education system, CEGEPs and a network of Université du Québec campuses. In Montreal: the metro system, towering steel and glass skyscrapers, demolishing acres of inner-city slums and Expo ’67.

The 60s were also the era of a more violent program of modernization with le Front de liberation du Québec (FLQ). The young Alain Simard had a summer job at Eaton’s, infamous for refusing to serve customers in French, where he discovered that francophone employees were not permitted to speak to one another in their mother tongue. Simard’s girlfriend, who worked for an airline, also discovered that her unilingual Anglo bosses refused to allow Francophone employees to engage in private conversations in a language the bosses could not understand or monitor.  

I found the book’s chapters on the FLQ and the rise of Quebec’s separatist movement particularly interesting. Simard was stopped and questioned twice by police during the October Crisis, under the exceptional powers of the War Measures Act, simply for being a leading figure in the underground music scene. His sister was clubbed by police during Lundi de la Matraque. Simard’s family was a microcosm of the divided society that held two referendums on independence and twice voted to remain in Canada. His father was a militant indépendantiste and friend of René Lévesque, and his mother a discreet federalist whose letters-to-the-editor in support of Pierre Trudeau, written under various pseudonyms, were discovered only after her death. 

Like many Québécois of his generation Simard made a pilgrimage to Vancouver in the 60s where he practiced his English and discovered the kids in BC were more liberated than his religiously repressed peers back home. Simard was profoundly influenced by Expo ’67, which flooded Montreal with modern ideas, global culture and visitors from around the world. The jazz festival he created in 1980 would hold its first edition on Île Ste-Hélène, on stages built for Expo, before migrating to St-Denis Street, where the festival encountered severe opposition from the mayor of Montreal. Jean Drapeau was the father of modernity in the 60s and 70s but Drapeau was also the politician who built his career on cleaning up vice associated with jazz clubs that flourished in Montreal during the years of American prohibition. Drapeau was adamantly opposed to the rebirth of jazz in his city, and ordered city workers to remove the festival’s first street stage during the middle of the night.

Alain Simard’s book is a fascinating account of culture and politics in modern Quebec. His passions are complex. He wanted Montreal to be proudly French but his city also included Oscar Peterson and Leonard Cohen. Simard wanted his festival to be an international showcase for the most talented musicians on the planet and for fans from around the world. Simard’s vision is broad, generous, ambitious and as welcoming as the festival he created. Je rêvais d’un festival is a celebration of things that make us proud of Quebec and happy to call it home.

Guy Rex Rodgers was founding Executive Director of the English Language Arts Network (ELAN) until returning to filmmaking. You can reach him at: GRR.Montrealer@gmail.com

1 Je rêvais d’un festival (I dreamed of a festival) Alain Simard, Les Éditions La Presse (2024).

The Raft of the Medusa. Courtesy

By Guy Rex Rodgers

Local Journalism Initiative

This provocative title is borrowed from a new book¹ that provides some global perspective on the vitality of French and English. Which language is doing better or worse? Compared to what?  And compared to when?

Lionel Meney is a French linguist, trained at the Sorbonne, who came to Quebec to teach at Laval University. After a lifetime of studying languages in a global context, Meney concludes that the battle between French and English is over. French has been defeated on every significant front and English has triumphed. His assessment is bleak but he supports it with 250 exhaustively documented pages of examples and statistics.

Meney refutes the arguments of naysayers who believe French in Quebec is doing just fine. Global data supports the claims of François Legault’s CAQ and Paul St-Pierre Plamondon’s PQ that French is seriously threatened and dangerously declining. However, while language pessimists are correct about the imperilled state of French, Quebec’s desperate attempts to address global problems with solutions that blame local villains are misguided and doomed to fail.   

The most vivid example Meney offers to make his case is the working language(s) of the European Union. The first six countries to form the Union were France, Germany, Italy, the Netherlands, Belgium, which has three official languages (French, German, Dutch), and Luxembourg, which also has three official languages (French, German, Luxembourgish). The EU operated with four languages (French, German, Italian and Dutch).  Things changed in 1973 when Great Britain joined.

As the EU increased from six members to 28, the cost in time and money of translation rose exponentially. English became the convenient lingua franca. By 2007, 72% of EU documents were written in English.  No single fact demonstrates the irresistible power of the English language more clearly than the predominant role it continues to play in EU communications eight years after Brexit. The English people could vote to leave the EU, and Europe could wave England goodbye, but the EU continues to communicate in English, now the post-national working-language of the global community. 

Other international institutions are subject to the same reality. The UN has 193 member nations that speak hundreds of different languages but the U.N. recognizes only six official languages: English, French, Russian, Spanish, Arabic and Chinese. The languages are not equally utilised.  English dominates 75% to 85% of UN communications. 

Meney documents the triumph of English in academic publications, second language instruction, international commerce and product labels. To have a comfortable mastery of English is a distinct advantage while to be unilingual in any other language, including French, is a handicap.

 “Not long ago you could you could have a successful (international) career as a unilingual Francophone.  That is no longer possible.”  “Failure to master this language (English) has become an insurmountable obstacle.”

In addition, French societies are being invaded by English words and transformed by English syntax, and young Francophones are enthralled by English culture. The internet is massively dominated by English. Despite France’s long history of international influence and the large number of French-speakers globally, the French language is everywhere in retreat.

Is this English domination fair? Is it good? The one thing beyond dispute is that it is a reality.

Meney believes governments can play an important role in support of language by providing first class education and assisting immigrants to acquire language skills. The current government of Quebec prefers to score points among its base by reducing the availability of first class education – when it involves English-speaking universities and CEGEPs.  The current government finds it more popular to deny immigrants services in languages other than French after six months rather than invest necessary resources to enable all immigrants to acquire French skills. The CAQ’s francisation program has been strong on rhetoric and aspirations but lamentably weak on planning and implementation.

Meney’s conclusion is sensible. “If the expansion of the domain of English seems inevitable, to save what can still be saved we must organize the cohabitation of the two languages ​​on our territory.”  The inescapable future is linguistic cohabitation, aka bilingualism. The utility and popularity of English are undeniable. Quebec’s worst strategy is to defend French by declaring English an enemy unwelcome in the workplace, the public square and private lives. That war has been fought and lost. If anyone doubts it, they need to read Meney’s book.

Guy Rex Rodgers was founding Executive Director of the English Language Arts Network (ELAN) until returning to filmmaking. You can reach Guy at: GRR.Montrealer@gmail.com

1. Le naufrage du français, the triomphe de l’anglais by Lionel Meney (collections L’espace public, 2024) ↩︎

Courtesy

By Guy Rex Rodgers

Local Journalism Initiative

Lionel Groulx – priest, historian, public intellectual and nationalist – understood the power of history to shape a national identity and make youth proud of their nation. Other countries had real and mythical heroes. Groulx wanted to make the descendants of Nouvelle France proud of heroes like Champlain, Radisson and Dollard des Ormeaux. Groulx’s idea of a good hero was based on the triple criteria of religion (Catholic), language (French) and race (European French). These criteria have exposed Groulx to accusations of xenophobia, and worse.

The CAQ government has resurrected the Lionel Groulx school of history. Francois Legault wants the new National History Museum in Quebec City to celebrate Quebec’s heroes and make young visitors proud to be Québécois. Legault belatedly conceded that the museum would need to find room for some non-Francophones.

I have been accused of ethnic bias in my documentary film What We Choose To Remember, although I have always made it clear that my film is an eyewitness account of contemporary Quebec history from the perspective of Anglos, Allophones and immigrants. One of the reasons I felt the need to make a film about Quebec history from this perspective is that the Lionel Groulx school dominates Quebec’s textbooks.

Last January I was speaking to a group of McGill students studying to become history teachers. I asked how many of them saw their family’s story reflected in the history they had been taught in high school. One student raised her hand, looked around and saw she was alone, and then offered an explanation. “My mother is French…”

I first realized how deeply Quebec history biased while working for the Pointe-à-Callière history of Montreal museum. In 1999 I was hired to write the large multimedia show because the version written for the opening of the museum had been accused of being too Franco-centric. I was hired to diversify the history and make it more inclusive of all Montrealers. 

The group of content experts overseeing my work was happy with a scene in which recent immigrants wrote postcards to relatives back home in Italian, Greek, Yiddish and Mandarin. 

The content experts were not happy with my proposed opening scene that presented several indigenous groups conversing in different languages, negotiating and arguing, and then falling silent as the first French explorers arrived. The museum’s content experts vetoed the scene because, “That would make it look like we stole the land!” The museum wanted the new history show to be inclusive, but the politics of land rights were incendiary in the wake of the Oka Crisis. The official story had to be that Indigenous peoples were nomadic and therefore had no specific land claims.

The rigidity of the official history became clear when I wanted to present a working-class Irish Montrealer. Using the city’s flag as a large visual image, I associated the fleur de lys with Montreal’s French history (the wife of mayor Viger), the rose with British immigrants (John Molson), the thistle with Scottish immigrants (John Young, chairman of the Montreal Harbour Commission), and the shamrock with an Irish immigrant who was digging the city’s sewers and had risked his life labouring on the Victoria Bridge.  

The oversight committee said ‘No!’ and was intractable. They would only agree to present a bourgeois boarding-house keeper whose fancy Victorian gown made a much louder statement than the words she spoke to an invisible audience of Irish labourers. It took quite awhile for me to figure out why the subject matter experts refused to show a labourer. During the next ten years, the multimedia history of Montreal I wrote for Pointe-à- Callière would be seen by two million visitors, mostly school students with impressionable young minds. A working-class English-speaking character would have undermined the popular myth that all Anglos are part of a powerful, wealthy elite. 

Pointe-à-Callière’s management and staff were sincerely trying to make the history of Montreal more inclusive, yet some myths were too sacred to challenge. The CAQ government has given this new museum a mandate to present the Lionel-Groulx version of history. Non-Francophones will feel their stories are excluded.  Some nationalists will celebrate the victory of reclaiming Quebec’s history for its rightful owners – the descendants of Nouvelle France.  The museum will stir up divisive identity politics but will not convince young Quebecers to reject global (English) culture. It will also fail to persuade bilingual youth to share the Groulx-CAQ dream of restoring the unilingual world of pre-Conquest Nouvelle France.

Guy Rex Rodgers was founding Executive Director of the English Language Arts Network (ELAN) until returning to filmmaking. You can reach Guy at: GRR.Montrealer@gmail.com