Vanasse, tel. (514) 525–2170 # 25 E-mail: [email protected]
By the same author
Félix Leclerc: Filou, le toubadour. Montreal: XYZ, “Les grandes figures” series, 1998.
Louis-Joseph Papineau: Le grand tribun, le pacifiste. Montreal: XYZ, “Les grandes figures” series, 2000.
Maurice Duplessis. Le Noblet, le petit roi. Montreal: XYZ, “Les grandes figures” series, 2002.
Since I’ve been working alongside him, René Lévesque appears to me to understand and feel deeply the contradictions of the Quebecer, at once compelled to break free and yet prevented from doing so. That’s why he vacillates between darkness and light, impatience and confidence, tenderness and harshness, the middle ground and the extreme, in conversation with himself or with others.
CAMILLE LAURIN
For Mother,for Alexis, my nephew,for Iain Davidson
Thanks to:
André Vanasse
Michèle Vanasse
Xavier Gélinas
Contents
1 I Don’t Want to Destroy Canada
3 The Son of Maître Lévesque, Esquire
4 Seeing the War First Hand
5 A Passion for Communicating
6 Minister in the Lesage Government
7 Breaking Through the Wall of Fear
8 The Moment of Truth
9 “… an old tree forgotten in the plains”
Chronology of René Lévesque (1922–1987)
Bibliography
Archives nationales du Québec a Montréal/E6, S7, SS1, P810015, #31A.
René Lévesque at a press conference at à construction site in Longueuil in 1981.
I Don’t Want to Destroy Canada
“My dear friends, if I have understood you well…” René Lévesque attempts to silence his supporters gathered together at the Paul Sauvé Centre. Two women stand behind him, in the background: Corinne Côté, his wife, and Lise Payette, Minister Responsible for the Status of Women and the only cabinet member present at this occasion. Wearing black, as if symbolically in mourning.
From the bleachers to the floor, signs reading “oui” alternate with Fleur-de-lis flags. In the distance, a few voices strike up “Mon cher René, c’est à ton tour,” and spontaneously thousands of supporters join in the Gilles Vigneault song to pay homage to their leader’s courage. Lévesque smiles sadly.
At a little before eight o’clock on May 20, 1980, the referendum results are official: 59.6 per cent of Quebecers have said “no.” Some two million Quebecers refuse to give the government a mandate to negotiate a new political accord with the federal government.
It is a bitter defeat: over half the population has just rejected sovereignty-association. The leader of the Parti Québécois (PQ) assesses the extent of his power: before him, impassioned men and women await but one word to invade the streets of Montreal. One sign and they would force open the doors of the arena to show their sadness and disappointment.
René Lévesque had rewritten his speech several times. A democrat, the sovereigntist leader accepts the voters’ decision. Now they have to live together, despite the fact that voters are divided. They must make peace with their opponents, with those who believe in federalism. The Parti Québécois leader again asks for silence. His voice rises above the shouting crowd:
“My dear friends… If I’ve understood you clearly, you’ve just said “Till the next time…”
The supporters roar their approval: they want to resume the struggle as soon as possible. The battle has been lost, but not the war.
Lévesque then spontaneously invites those present in the room to join in the “the most beautiful of Quebec songs.” And, slightly off key, he strikes up “Gens du pays,” the song the crowd had begun to sing earlier. The time for sadness has passed: solidarity has overridden rancour and bitterness. Leader of the PQ government since November 15, 1976, René Lévesque is, first and foremost, premier of all Quebecers. After four years in power, he is thinking of the next provincial election he must soon call.
René Lévesque wants to bring opposing forces together, and he is the man for the job.
The referendum campaign had started long before it was officially called in March 1980.
Three years earlier, shortly after coming into power, René Lévesque had taken on a new responsibility: governing within Canadian Confederation while promoting the Parti Québécois’ sovereigntist option.
“It all would have been simpler if a vote for us had meant a vote for independence,” he regretted.
It was Claude Morin who proposed gradualism in 1972: win the election and then hold a referendum on Quebec sovereignty. “After all,” he claimed, “the time is ripe for negotiation and consensus. The international community will never recognize our political status if we only scrape by to win.”
René Lévesque also believed it necessary to consult the people before changing the country’s constitution. At the November 1974 convention of the Parti Québécois, the referendum passed two to one. From then on, they aimed for the majority of the National Assembly. But members were divided. Lévesque had to exert influence so that the resolution could pass, which displeased some, certain of whom even tore up their membership cards.
“It was the first crisis that had the potential to completely ruin us,” Lévesque confessed.
After the Parti Québécois was elected on November 15, 1976, René Lévesque returned to the very essence of the Sovereignty-Association Movement that he had founded nine years earlier. “Today,” he said, “I value this union more than ever!” It was a point of honour he set for himself. A sovereign Quebec must establish an economic partnership with Canada. On the strength of this faith, he curtailed the radical wing of the Parti Québécois that wanted to declare immediate independence. Lévesque was wary of idealists who didn’t accept the ground rules of democracy.
“They’re nitpicking troublemakers!” he said. “With left-wingers like these we’ll rot from within.”
From early 1977 on, the leader of the PQ needed to contain the aftershock. Lévesque had a heavy load to carry. One false move could endanger the entire party.
Any discussion among the party members – the Péquistes – inevitably resulted in a debate about the party’s options. Should they hold