A police-led circumstantial alliance in Quebec politics
Are you now, or have you ever been, a resident of one of the 207 luxury condos at 1000 de la Commune St. in Old Montreal? If so, regardless of your qualifications, you had probably better not run for office in Quebec.
For the McCarthy-like ethical witch hunt in the province’s politics has come to this: now you are guilty by association with a mere address. And, following the exclusive Club 375c and the private boxes at the Bell Centre, 1000 de la Commune has been added to the itinerary of a future guided tour of places notorious for the supposed seduction there of Quebec politicians by favour-seekers. This week, Le Devoir and other media reported the leader of the Coalition Avenir Québec party, François Legault, “admitted” having attended what was apparently a perfectly legal fundraising event at that address.
It was held in the same condo where there was another fundraiser, this time for the Quebec Liberal Party, that was at the centre of the scandal of the week in Quebec politics, broken by the Québecor media.
Based entirely on uncorroborated hearsay, containing at least one important factual error, passed on by a single source with questionable motives, Quebecor’s scandal is so flimsy that repeating its alleged details here would be a waste of space.
Nevertheless, if you take a step back to see the larger picture, you can see a bigger story, that of a circumstantial alliance to defeat the Liberal government, led by police exploiting weaknesses in the media and politics.
This week’s scandal followed what has become a familiar pattern: Police plant unsubstantiated suspicions of alleged illegal fundraising involving prominent Liberals past and present with the investigative bureau of the province’s dominant media empire.
That’s Quebecor, whose boss, Pierre Karl Péladeau, was until less than five months ago the leader of the official Opposition Parti Québécois, and since then hasn’t even pretended to be nonpartisan, attending the party’s convention two weeks ago.
By now, the planter knows that, even without the hard facts and supporting evidence exposed by true investigative journalism, Péladeau’s smear squad will run with the “scoop,” and the other mainstream media, without verifying it, will spread it.
Long forgotten is the old Woodward-Bernstein Watergate rule of not publishing an investigative story without confirmation by two independent sources.
The plant will be picked up, in turn, by the three opposition parties in the National Assembly vying daily to remain relevant with only a year left until the next general election is due.
Each will try to produce the crunchiest sound bite attacking the Liberals, which the media will record and report, like secretaries taking dictation and transcribing it.
Though the rules of journalism allow it, they will not demand proof of any allegations, and immediately snap off their voice recorders if they don’t get it. They may not even mention until deep in their stories, if they mention it at all, that no proof has been provided.
It’s junk news, which, like junk food, is tasty, filling — and unhealthy.
Along with competitive identity politics pitting some Quebecers against others, the junk news, and the junk politics that feeds on it, contribute to a decline in the health of Quebec democracy.
It’s messy, harming the reputations of politicians in general, as illustrated by Legault’s reported “admission” of guilt for participating in what was apparently a common, legal political activity.
It encourages public cynicism about politics. And it affects the quality of political representation by discouraging potential candidates afraid that they, too, may once have set foot at what later turns out to be the “wrong” address.
In the Oct. 2 byelection in the Quebec City riding of LouisHébert, Le Devoir reported the Liberals were turned down by their first seven choices for their nomination before the one they considered their eighth-best agreed to run.
Can you blame the ones who declined?