Monday evening, I went to the Grande Bibliothèque for the launch of the centenary celebrations of René Lévesque. A start obscured by chicanes and recent missteps buzzing in our ears. Like the leader of the Parti Québécois, Paul St-Pierre Plamondon, invited in extremis to speak after being initially snubbed. And Lévesque’s childhood home in the Gaspé, classified as a heritage site in New Carlisle, but left to mold for all these years. And the scathing words of Lucien Bouchard on the PQ today. And René Lévesque’s sister, Alice, who answered him vehemently in an open letter. Not to mention the passage of Bernard Drainville to the CAQ after decades of sovereigntist battle, raising questions and passions. Who is a real sovereigntist and who is not anymore? So many divisions upstream, so many cries, clumsiness, spats created a troubled climate, inevitably. People not to invite together to the same party were gathered at the same party. False smiles were exchanged between pugilists. But he had known some, bickering, insults and twisted blows during his political career, René Lévesque. He had to laugh from beyond the grave.
With its shadow, I saw the spectacle side of this meeting embellished with spikes of banderillas. The leaders of the various parties, members of the family (including my former colleague Claude Lévesque), other guests, such as Pierre Karl Péladeau, very spirited, spoke before a standing assembly whose legs hurt. Lucien Bouchard, looking pitiful, apologized with a dose of humor for his inopportune remarks. Paul St-Pierre Plamondon straddled the dragon in the room, tipping his hat to René Lévesque, who was a columnist at the Montreal Journal : “Let’s wager that he would have used the same words ‘false pretense’ and ‘hypocrisy’ to describe the political news of the last few weeks…” And wham! All of them, more or less appeased afterwards, claimed the heritage of the great man. The felt tributes rained down.
René Lévesque belongs intimately to those he has marked. I never nicknamed him Ti-Poil. Out of respect for its stature nourished by intimate flaws, collective ambitions, democratic ideals, love for its people and the power to galvanize them. The former journalist Crossroads and of focus had once opened Quebecers to the world, as a war correspondent among others. Discovering the horrors of the Dachau concentration camp while on the spot marks a man. It was on radio and television that his talents as a popularizer had exploded. Curious about everything, Lévesque was also a bulimic reader, an excellent writer and columnist. Moreover, the activities surrounding the year in his name will be played a lot on the artistic arena, with in particular an exhibition at the Museum of civilization in the capital, a show tribute to Montreal. A René-Lévesque journalism prize will be created, announced François Legault. Quebecers’ favorite politician had several lives.
Might as well take advantage of his centenary of birth to also salute the artist in him. And why not his performances as a tribune actor in the role of the seemingly simple guy with a shy smile, hiding abysses of complexity? Beyond real convictions, which head of state can seduce the crowds without putting himself on stage? Pierre Elliott Trudeau, the enemy brother, camped in Ottawa a completely different character, of panache, arrogance and perfidy. The two men will have alternately sported the masks of tragedy and comedy, with cape and flower in the buttonhole or threadbare jacket and cigarette in the beak.
Literate, informed, once arrived at the head of the PQ, he will have sought less to attract his people into his cultural and linguistic orbit than to reassure them. Several premiers of Quebec have, in his wake, muted their artistic and universalist knowledge by coming to power, to conciliate the voters. Lévesque felt close to the people, anyway. But with 47.8% of functional illiterates, it seems that the strategy, which snowballed, perpetuated collective neglect. The call to pride is beautiful. From Lévesque to Legault, we trumpet it. But is it a social project? Encouraging people to make real efforts to educate themselves and speak French better would prove less popular. Who wants to hit them? Lévesque’s legacy seems both luminous and tangled like a forest cleared by each Quebecer as he pleases. Some shouting names in their wake in the head: Outdated! Renegade! All troubled by his dream of sovereignty which is taking on water like the Gaspé house of the great deceased celebrated with fanfare this year.