René Bruemmer
WHAT A LONG, STRANGE TRIP IT’S BEEN. Spanning just 33 days in total, Quebec’s election campaign has seemed infinitely longer, cramming decades’ worth of slime, identity angst and just plain weirdness into one dispiriting month.
pulls together reporters’ tales of the fist pump, the shove, the polls and the R word.
Instead of the standard pledges for more family doctors and more jobs that are generally ignored by the public, the electorate instead found itself jolted awake almost daily by spectres of new passports for an independent Quebec, Ontario student hordes infiltrating voting booths, fortunes squirrelled away in overseas tax havens and a cabal of rich McGill Muslim swimming enthusiasts locking up the private pool market. It managed to get even stranger. In a milieu where a little grime is to be expected, veteran analysts judged this Quebec campaign to be the dirtiest in 40 years. It also ranks among the oddest.
Lurching along with it were the leaders’ campaign buses, by turns producing, churning or deflecting mud. Trying desperately to keep up were journalists on the media buses, including Gazette reporters who share herein some of their most vivid memories from a trail potholed by allegations and innuendo and marked in its final weeks by the desperation of fading fortunes.
Following along from the sidelines were Quebec voters, begrimed and gobsmacked by a campaign that focused more on smears than on how to dig an economically ailing province out of its deepening hole, and in which the spectre of a referendum on Quebec separation and all that it could bring once again reared its head.
The campaign got off to an official start on March 5, when Premier Pauline Marois called an $88-million election despite the fact her government had enacted legislation calling for fixed election dates that would put the next vote in September 2016.
Magic moments: The campaign launch (Philip Authier)
There are three magic moments in election campaigns: the launch, the debates and the final weekend.
Those are the moments where voters are actually paying attention.
Parti Québécois leader Pauline Marois broke the get-off-to-a-goodstart rule with a flopped election launch.
Despite expectations that Marois would not send Quebecers back to the polls after only 18 months without a good reason, all she could come up with was that her opponents were blocking her plans and she needed a majority to pass the charter of values. Thin gruel.
She made that statement, dashed across the street to the lieutenantgovernor’s to sign the documents dissolving the National Assembly and hit the bus. No news conference. No questions. No answers.
By the time the campaign caravans arrived for the evening stop in TroisRivières, the PQ had a full-blown rebellion on its hands on the media buses. At the cost of $8,000 per reporter to cover the campaign, media bosses grumbled about a lack of access. Reporters started to talk about PQ handlers bubble-wrapping the leader in the same way Conservative strategists shield Stephen Harper. The comparison drives PQ handlers bananas.
By the next day the party relented, with Marois assuring the media they would have access. The news conference ran 40 minutes over schedule.
Really, this campaign has been in the air the moment the PQ came to power with a precarious minority government in 2012, earning 54 seats to the Liberals’ 50. The party quickly announced controversial plans to revamp the French-language charter with Bill 14. It also started assembling its charter of values, which would ban the wearing of religious symbols by public employees.
The charter, the PQ said, was necessary to ensure religious neutrality and equality between men and women. Its critics called it a calculated, divisive political move meant to ensure a PQ win in the next election, provoke chicanes with Ottawa, and put in the place the elements necessary to hold a third sovereignty referendum. Polls suggested the charter-based plan was working, increasing support for the PQ by 10 per cent.
In February, the PQ showered the regions with $2 billion in spending promises. On Feb. 18 a poll showed the party had 40-per-cent support to the Liberals’ 24, (Coalition Avenir Québec had 16, while Québec solidaire had seven) and strong support among francophone voters putting it in majority territory.
And off to the races we went.
Training camp (Kevin Dougherty)
Philippe Couillard has largely come off as a smooth operator in the televised debates and on Tout le monde en parle, the Radio-Canada Sunday night chat show that can make or break political careers. But Couillard, who succeeded Jean Charest as Liberal leader a year ago, is not as smooth as Charest at his best. And when he started on this election campaign, well, sometimes his performance was rough.
Delivering his nightly stump speeches at the beginning of the campaign, Couillard hoped that when he said: “And what will we take care of ?” that his audience would reply in unison: “Les vraies affaires!” (“The real issues!”)
But the responses were disjointed, like a high school band rendition of a symphony. Couillard finally hit on a way to do it by quickly answering the question himself, then adding: “And how will we do it? Together!”
News reports from the first four days of the campaign showed a kinder, gentler time — candidates were announced and people paid attention, programs were unveiled and actually got airplay. On the day Couillard unveiled his $7-billion maritime strategy, Marois, focusing on the Quebec identity issue, introduced three female candidates — two Muslims and a Jew — who were running in Liberal strongholds with no chance of winning, and downplayed any chance of a referendum.
The mud guards on the bus were barely spattered.
“I have a lot of hope that Quebecers are fed up with the old parties. This is the fight of my life. ”
CAQ LEADER FRANçOIS LEGAULT “My joining the Parti Québécois is tied to my most intimate and profound values, and that is to say I want Quebec to become a country. I am a sovereignist. Today we have all the tools to take control of our own destiny.”
PQ CANDIDATE PIERRE-KARL PéLADEAU
Then Quebec business magnate Pierre Karl Péladeau came on the scene on March 9, pumped his fist, and all hell broke loose.
“I am joining the Parti Québécois because I want Quebec to be a country,” he exclaimed. On first blush Péladeau’s arrival was treated as a political coup, lending the party the economic right-wing credence it lacked, while it was hoped his separatist proclamation would mollify the party’s leftist faction unhappy with the arrival of one of the province’s top union busters.
Didn’t work out that way. The province’s two top labour groups, total membership 900,000, said they were PQ supporters no longer. Ethical questions about a potential provincial cabinet minister who also owns 40 per cent of the province’s media ran rampant.
Worse for the PQ, Marois started ruminating about the realities of a separate Quebec (no borders, no tolls, Quebec passport, keep the Canadian dollar), violating the cardinal PQ rule of never discussing separation prior to an election. Couillard had been trying to sow referendum fears from the beginning, but no one had paid much attention. But a PQ leader talking passports suddenly made the prospect of a third referendum very real.
The Quebec electorate, still hibernating through its never-ending winter, raised its weary head and got very nervous. Polls showed the PQ and Liberals neck and neck just before the PKP fist pump. A week later, the PQ was trailing by three points, and it would get worse.
Move on over, PKP
(Monique Muise)
In less than three seconds during an otherwise unremarkable news conference on March 13, Pauline Marois managed to embarrass both herself and her star candidate by appearing to push him away from the podium as he prepared to answer a question. Anyone who was there will tell you that The Shove (which ended up on the front page of the next day’s Globe and Mail) was taken out of context and hardly anyone in the room noticed it as it was happening. The full story is, in fact, far less salacious. A reporter said she had a question for Pierre Karl Péladeau. Marois beckoned him forward before seemingly realizing that she had prepared an answer to the question. PKP backed off on his own steam as soon as his leader raised her hand and gently touched his arm. But the optics were terrible, and a minor scandal was born.
Despite its struggles, the PQ was aided slightly by Couillard’s wavering stance on the Canadian constitution and implementing Quebec’s distinct society status. It revived the use of the injurious “Philippe-flop” moniker he earned for similar waffling on the charter issue.
The CAQ, meanwhile, hanging on for its life, promised to cut civil servants and school boards, and put an extra $1,000 a year in taxpayers’ pockets.
CAQ idles
(Philip Authier)
Before François Legault’s solid performance in the televised leaders’ debates, covering his Coalition Avenir Québec election campaign was a pretty tame affair. The campaign appeared to be going nowhere, and you could sense it on the campaign trail.
Third-place parties always have a hard time of it in Quebec’s political spectrum, and Legault found himself left out by an electorate polarized by the sovereigntyfederalist debate.
A day on the CAQ campaign bus was thus relatively light work. On March 15, Legault’s day started with an 8:30 a.m. news conference in a hotel, after which the campaign would move on to a riding where the leader was greeted by a few hearty CAQ loyalists. Crowds were thin.
Keeping costs down, the CAQ caravan then usually would pull into a restaurant — Legault likes the Nickels and Cage aux Sports chains — where the party leader would shake a few more hands. After that, it was back to home base for another policy announcement and a news conference.
In the days leading up to the first televised leaders’ debate, the PQ message started to look wobbly. Marois sparked anger by saying private businesses could draw inspiration from the charter by imposing its religious garb restrictions. And she continued to support candidate Louise Mailloux, who was roundly criticized for her published views that kosher foods are a hidden tax used by rabbis to fund religious wars.
Marois loses her cool
(Christopher Curtis)
It’s not easy to get a gifted politician off message.
On the morning of March 18, PQ leader Pauline Marois effortlessly sidestepped every tough question. Referendum? What referendum? Candidate accused of xenophobia? We love Quebec’s cultural communities!
But in the afternoon, we saw a much different Marois. Whether she was tired or frustrated with answering the same questions again and again, something seemed to break. With enough persistence, reporters could get Marois to wander way off message. After a proper grilling from a Canadian Press reporter, Marois theorized that businesses in the private sector were free to impose the PQ charter’s ban of religious garb on their employees. Suddenly, a piece of legislation that had been presented as a way to clarify the separation of state and church appeared more like a crackdown on religious minorities. There were no afternoon news conferences for the rest of the week.
As Marois faltered, Couillard seemed to come into his own.
The PKP effect
(Michelle Lalonde)
The week leading up to the first televised debate of the campaign was a turning point for Couillard. A CROP poll published March 18 confirmed the “PKP Effect” had in fact been an unintended gift to the Liberals. Couillard suddenly seemed to have wind in his sails. At a rally in Boucherville the next day, Couillard seemed to lose all the stiffness and discomfort he’d displayed in earlier speeches. To an adoring crowd of mostly older, female supporters, Couillard spoke with passion and spontaneity, eschewing the notes he’d brought to the podium. He spoke of the shift he could feel in public support, a change he likened to “a faint noise you can hear in the distance, growing ever louder.” After weeks of repeating his often wooden-sounding mantra (a Liberal government would focus on real issues: economy, jobs, etc.), Couillard was telling stories and bringing his audience to standing ovations. He maintained this new-found confidence and passion through his first televised debate the next evening, surprising many by the strength of his performance.
The first debate on March 20 brought no clear winner, but Couillard was solid and Marois was hammered by a forceful Legault. “Are you, yes or no, going to hold a referendum in the next mandate? ... You have a duty to give us a clear answer.” (“No,” she said — “unless Quebecers are ready.” Which did little to ease fears.)
Françoise David of Québec solidaire repeated her strong performance from the last provincial election campaign, and said her party is not interested in joining the PQ.
No English questions
(Monique Muise)
It may be small, but Québec solidaire’s election marketing has always been strong. The left-of-centre, socio-democratic party knows how to deliver a clear, concise message in its campaign advertising and interviews, which is why it was so surprising — and somewhat disappointing — when the party’s co-spokesperson refused to take the first question asked of her after the March 20 leaders’ debate. Françoise David was clearly not prepared for the first question to be from an anglophone media outlet, and made it clear she hadn’t intended to speak any English that evening. The reporter was summarily asked to step aside for his French colleagues. Maybe David was tired. Maybe she felt uncomfortable, and maybe the reporter gave in too easily. But even a reply in French would have been better than no reply at all — especially when you’re a small party with everything to gain and not much to lose. David changed her tune after the second debate and happily replied to English questions.
Two days after the debate, news reports based on PQ sources suggested out-of-province students were organizing to vote illegally.
The PQ’s justice minister held a news conference raising the spectre of the vote being “stolen from people from Ontario and the rest of Canada.” Elections Quebec debunked the story.
Meanwhile stories surfaced, and multiplied, of students who said they were eligible to vote being refused at voter registration centres. Four McGill students would later take Quebec’s chief electoral officer to court, with human rights lawyer Julius Grey representing them, demanding to be put on the list.
Meanwhile, Marois shifted the focus to integrity, raising front-runner Couillard’s business relations with Arthur Porter — the former head of the McGill University Health Centre currently in a Panamanian prison facing charges that include fraud. (Couillard says the two never did business together.) Marois also reminded the electorate, repeatedly, that Couillard’s party includes 18 ministers who worked under Jean Charest and voted 11 times against creating the Charbonneau Commission into corruption. She said ministers under Charest were expected to raise $100,000 a year in political financing, suggesting the pressure could lead to illegal donations.
Asked if she was worried about the effect of throwing stones in case her house is made of glass, Marois responded: “Never will I accept that the Parti Québécois be compared to the Liberal Party when it comes to party financing and the awarding of contracts.”
On March 25, the PQ said it had filed a complaint with Quebec’s chief electoral officer regarding $428,000 allegedly collected by Liberal fundraisers but never accounted for. The effect was somewhat muted when, on the same day, the PQ was forced to admit it was visited in February by provincial anti-corruption squad officers with UPAC. Marois said the visit was just a fact-finding one, as opposed to the UPAC raid conducted on Liberal headquarters in July, but the incident showed the danger of playing the integrity card in a political era where few have been pure.
And Marois’s tirades over $100,000 Liberal minister fundraising quotas lost their bite after Legault revealed he was expected to raise as much as $80,000 annually during his time as a PQ minister.
Despite all the sound and fury of various allegations, little seemed to stick — perhaps because most accusations disappeared within a day, either discredited or replaced by the next.
Couillard, who had pledged to avoid slinging mud, called on all major party leaders and their spouses to release their tax forms and the extent of their personal holdings. It was an attempt to embarrass Marois and her multimillionaire businessman husband Claude Blanchet, whose name has come up at the Charbonneau Commission in relation to an alleged deal with union leaders. Marois was the only leader to refuse, on the basis she has provided all necessary information to the provincial ethics commissioner, and that revealing her assets would pander to voyeurism.
The big reveal
(Aaron Derfel)
The first clue something different was about to happen on the Liberal bus came early in the morning of March 25, en route to Trois-Rivières. Charles Robert, a Liberal strategist and our handler on the bus, walked up the aisle to inform reporters of the day ahead. He was in a good mood, as a Léger poll that morning suggested that the Liberals might win a majority. “There will be an announcement on job training and something else,” Robert said, without elaborating. “Just want to tease you.” That tease turned out to be Couillard’s decision to release not only his 2012 income-tax records, but also those of his wife, along with details of the couple’s financial assets. It marked yet another turning point in the campaign, a realization that Couillard had gone from underdog to front-runner, and that he would have to brace for attacks from his political rivals.
The financial assets issue might have put wind in Couillard’s sails, but two days before debate No. 2, a media report revealed he opened a bank account the British Channel Isle of Jersey, a tax haven, while working as a neurosurgeon in Saudi Arabia in the 1990s. He maintained it was all legal and above board, and tax experts concurred, but since the optics are never good when the words “tax haven” are involved, his opponents had a field day.
The second leaders’ debate was March 27, and as expected front-runner Couillard was hammered from all sides on ethics, tax havens, and failing to protect French. Unlike in the first debate, he appearing shell-shocked and weak at times. Marois finally did reveal her tax returns, 15 minutes before the second debate, but not the extent of her and her husband’s holdings.
During this second four-way faceoff, Legault was once again forceful, and was dubbed the winner by many pundits. David fared well, although her leftist platform was dismissed as “fantasy” by her opponents.
The PQ ramped up the identity issue after the debate.
At news conferences, Marois focused on proposed changes to Bill 101 that would see employees at companies with 11 employers or more having to work in French, and forcing students at anglophone CEGEPs to pass a French test to graduate.
Birthday bash
(René Bruemmer)
Billed as an opportunity to celebrate Pauline’s 65th birthday at Théâtre Telus on St. Denis St. in Montreal, it was also a last-ditch rallying cry for the faltering PQ. It was the professionalism of the March 29 event that was striking, demonstrating the power of an experienced party to deliver its message. A 12-piece band, iconic Québécois performers and 24 star candidates came together before an estimated 1,000 followers and slowly ratcheted up the fervour before Marois took the stage.
Not generally renowned for her oratorical skills, Marois was eloquent and forceful in delivering what had become the theme of the week: If Quebecers want to ensure the culture and language their ancestors have spent 400 years protecting and not go back to living on their knees, they must vote PQ. The crowd went wild.
Poll results, however, suggested the message was not resonating strongly enough outside the halls of the faithful.
Asked what she wanted for her birthday, Marois said a win on April 7. Instead, on her birthday, March 29, she found herself defending against media reports of illegal donations by engineering firms to the PQ in the 1990s and accusations Péladeau’s Québecor company is registered in Delaware, the tax haven capital of the United States. Both stories faded to obscurity by day’s end in the daily rush of new scandals.
Case in point: The next day during a PQ sponsored “secular brunch,” Janette Bertrand, 89-year-old Quebec feminist icon and vocal charter of values supporter, warned about the possible dangers of rich McGill Muslim students taking over private pools. Marois defended her, but the PQ was lambasted.
Meanwhile, the PQ attempted to tar Couillard because he worked in Saudi Arabia as a neurosurgeon in the 1990s, suggesting that the fact he did not denounce the country’s practices reflects a tacit approval of that government’s record of oppression. Couillard was furious.
On the next day, March 31, two more bombshells: Radio-Canada reported Marois’ husband Blanchet was accused in a sworn affidavit by an engineering executive of soliciting $25,000 from managers at an engineering firm in 2007 and 2008 to finance his wife’s political campaign, in exchange for favours. Marois and Blanchet denied the charges, but the damage was done.
And Marois announced for the first time she would evoke the notwithstanding clause in the Canadian constitution to protect the charter of values from legal challenges. This raised questions about the charter’s legality, and just the mention of the words “notwithstanding clause” causes a collective shudder of fear to run down the spines of all Quebecers.
On Wednesday, the PQ confirmed it would fire public-sector employees who refuse to remove religious garb, but Marois said the government would help them find work in the private sector. Except she earlier stated that the private sector could impose similar restrictions.
Couillard, who had started keeping a relatively low profile by the end in the campaign, said he wondered where in the private sector the PQ would re-settle nurses, doctors and teachers.
On Wednesday, a poll showed the Liberals with 37-per-cent support of decided voters, the PQ with 28, CAQ 19 and QS with 13. It seemed clear that the wheels on the PQ bus were falling off. PQ insiders reported that party members are furious with how the campaign was being handled. Marois’ future as leader started to appear tenuous.
On Thursday, with four days to go before election day, Marois told the president of Montreal’s Board of Trade that she would enact corporate and personal income tax cuts midway through her mandate if elected. In the last week of the 2007 election, Liberal leader Jean Charest used this ploy to positive results.
Asked by journalists why she failed to mention this pledge earlier in the campaign, Marois responded: “Because no one asked me the question before.”
Many Quebecers have remarked that it hasn’t been the type of election campaign the province needed, or deserved.
On Monday, we will see where this strange and disquieting trip will take us.
“I’m comfortable and proud to be a sovereignist. Can (the PQ) say the same?”
FRANçOISE DAVID, QUébec solidaire “Either we return to the Liberal years, and put our knee to the ground, or we elect a proud government.”
PQ LEADER PAULINE MAROIS
“Is there a parent in Quebec that doesn’t want their child to learn another language? No.”
LIBERAL LEADER PHILIPPE COUILLARD