True confessions of a diehard anglo leftie

Ihave a terrible, horrible confession to make. In the last election, I voted for Pauline Marois and the PQ. There, I said it. It seemed a not entirely unreasonable decision at the time. Consider that the Liberals had been in power for some time, seemed bloated with corruption (as longstanding parties often are) and had been tone deaf on the issue of keeping education affordable.

It’s long been a struggle for people like me: avowed leftists who are also anglos. We’re supposed to vote federalist, but most of the time, the Liberals’ policies are appalling. Traditionally, the PQ has supported labour unions, gay rights and universal daycare. Given that, and repeated no- referendum promises, voting PQ didn’t seem so toxic. And there was the internationally renowned Robert Lepage, endorsing Marois during the campaign.

Immediately after her victory, there was no reason to regret my vote: no tuition hikes, a vow to remain nonnuclear and keep the Asbestos mines shut.

But the rest of her time in power and the current campaign have created epic challenges for a progressive voter in Quebec. The proposed charter of values is astonishing in its disdain for individual rights. I came here 20 years ago as a young gay person from Alberta; Quebec was the first place in North America to enshrine gay rights into its humanrights code. And that was done, notably, by a PQ government.

But beyond what is at its grubby little heart — the charter is clearly an effort to appeal to the fear and anxiety of rural white voters — what shocks me most about this purported bid to create a secular Utopia is the very lack of self-awareness of its authors.

Quebec separatists have long held that they are vic- tims of colonialism, perpetrated by English Canada. This is perhaps best reflected in the work of the late Pierre Vallieres, considered the intellectual godfather of the separatist movement. His 1967 book Nègres blancs d’Amérique, autobiographie précoce d’un « terroriste » québécois persuasively argued that the Québécois occupied a similar place in Canadian society as blacks did in America.

But what is the charter itself but pure, unrefined colonialism?

It is paternalistic masters telling untamed immigrants how to dress, behave and worship (or not worship, as it were).

Just when I thought there was a last straw, then came the nomination of Pierre Karl Péladeau.

How can a party that once claimed to stick up for the rights of workers and students simultaneously uphold this corporate CEO as one of their star candidates?

Quebec’s Donald Trump, he’s an empty, vapid symbol of inherited wealth and disdain for ordinary, hardworking Quebeckers — of any language or ethnicity.

This was framed as an election about the identity of Quebec, but instead it’s become an identity crisis for a once-progressive party. Just what are you, PQ?

Are you the party of equality, human rights, universal daycare and respect for the working person?

Because the charter and Péladeau don’t fit into that image, I’m afraid.

And surrounding yourself with babbling seniors who describe a nightmare in which rich Muslim McGill students invade your swimming pool makes you look more like a David Lynch movie than a political party I can vote for.

Having lived in Alberta and now Quebec, I’m very accustomed to strategic voting. But this election gives new meaning to the old line about the lesser of two evils.

On Monday, I will be holding my nose and voting Liberal — a party that vows more austerity and privatization of our health care system, things I oppose.

But given the PQ’s shift to the hard right, I feel I have no choice.