Crossing the desert | The Press

It is election night, in October 2022. Paul St-Pierre Plamondon, leader of the Parti Québécois (PQ) and candidate in the riding of Camille-Laurin, repeats his defeat speech. Only a few hundred ballot boxes are counted in his constituency, where the count has been blocked for hours. But elsewhere in Quebec, the PQ massacre is total. His team is convinced: the leader loses.

“They tell me: “Paul, we have no choice. We need to give you your defeat speech. And you have to practice it.” » Everyone leaves the room. His father is the only spectator of this heartbreaking rehearsal. “You did everything you could. I’m proud of you,” he told her.

In the middle of rehearsal, a member of the team bursts into the room. “The vote has started to come in again. It’s Paul. It’s Paul everywhere! » His family invades the room. “And then, they take the speech, they give me another one. They tell me: “That’s the winning speech.” » PSPP actually ended up winning, with a majority of 2,700 votes, partly thanks to a act of God electoral – the Quebec Solidaire candidate was ejected after being filmed throwing PQ leaflets in the trash.

The PQ leader describes this spectacular psychological roller coaster ride as the finest moment of his political career. He is still gripped by emotion while talking about it. Not surprising: it crowns nearly six years of crossing the desert, starting in 2016, when a young white-hot guy decided to launch into the race for the leadership of the PQ.

“One day he showed up at my house; my partner and I were at the table. He said to us: “Do you know what? I am entering the race for leadership of the PQ.” Both of our forks fell. They said to him: “Have you lost your mind?” », says a relative, who has known him since childhood. She prefers that her name be kept quiet so as not to harm her professional activities.

He has no experience, does not know the Parti Québécois or the media. He is struggling to collect the signatures necessary to formalize his candidacy. It takes 1,500. “At some point, we look at each other and say: we’re going to hit a solid wall,” he says. And that’s when a providential phone call arrives, that of the member for Matane-Matapédia, Pascal Bérubé.

“I invited him to my county. He and his father-in-law arrived in a trailer. They settled in my yard. The next day, I gave him a stack of membership forms to renew. He left on foot, in 30 degrees. He covered all the streets. And the next morning, he wanted more! »

Once the application is registered, the microteam surrounding it is not at the end of its troubles. “We had press conferences and no one showed up. One day, a journalist took pity on me. He told me: “Those who cover the race are in Quebec. And you do press briefings in parks in Montreal!” », says lawyer Marie-France Perreault, one of his closest accomplices during these years in the desert.

“I got up in the morning, I was in boxers, then there were volunteers making calls in my basement,” says PSPP. Yvon Lafrenière, former director of Notre-Dame college, was recruited to do scorekeeping. “I was looking for a quiet place. I sat in his room, on an ironing board, with my phone and my papers,” says Mr. Lafrenière.

But the candidate is not well received in the party. “I was presented as a dangerous federalist who wanted to infiltrate the PQ. » After an event, he finds his car vandalized by a wrench. Two months after departure, a poll placed him at 1% of the vote. “My wife was crying,” says the PQ leader.

He finished the race with a score of 7%, but Jean-François Lisée, the new leader, crowned him “political revelation of the year”. He receives a standing ovation from the activists.

After his election, Mr. Lisée sent him to survey clienteles that the PQ had difficulty reaching. “I’m arriving at an event. There were 200 people. I didn’t know any of them. The average age was 22 years old, says Jean-François Lisée. I was stunned. » And on their phone, people had downloaded an application, they could vote live on certain points. “I had never seen that at the PQ,” continues Mr. Lisée. For me, the future of the party was there. »

But PSPP draws a devastating report, which causes an earthquake in the party. The PQ is seen as an “aging and disconnected social club”. Young people there are like “rare Pokémon”, we read in the 42 pages written in acid.

“The day after the article [qui a révélé le rapport], says PSPP, I was told that we are in crisis management. They told me: “You are going to come urgently to Quebec to explain yourself.” I arrive in Quebec. They sit me down. I was like in the dock. » At the PQ caucus, the 28 deputies told him, one after the other, how badly they thought of his report.

“He put his finger on a certain number of realities. The problem was the way,” says a former MP, who asked that his name be withheld for professional reasons. The funding, the membership cards, all of that was thanks to the volunteers… including several retirees. Now Paul had been very severe towards them. They felt attacked. Where does he come from? He never sold a membership card! »

Several constituencies, where certain “old volunteers” threaten to jump ship, find themselves in a state of crisis. The deputies are furious. “It’s the time in my life when I’ve been rocked the most, by far,” summarizes PSPP.

And then, the 2018 elections happen. He ran in Prévost, a “winnable” riding, people thought at the time. A year before the elections, he began a fierce campaign. “There is not a door that has not been knocked on in the county,” summarizes Marie-France Perreault.

However, a major opponent ended up being designated to face him: the former host and liberal minister Marguerite Blais. “His popularity is stratospheric. She could have run for the Bloc Pot which she would have won! », summarizes Jean-François Lisée.

But PSPP cannot be dismantled. “M^me Blais was very little present in Prévost. She has been at the nationals a lot, not on the field in the county. She refused several debates,” relates Marie-France Perreault. However, on election night, PSPP lost, and by a lot. Blais received 47% of the votes, he received 24%.

This is the worst low of all these years of scarcity, he says. “It took me three months before I resumed any professional activity. I went to take down my signs at night. Because I wasn’t interested in being recognized. »

Then began two years of hibernation, where he returned to the practice of law in Gatineau. The withdrawal of the very popular Véronique Hivon from the new race for the leadership of the PQ offers her a resumption. He is launching himself, at the cost of significant ideological contortions (see other tab).

The race, surreal, takes place in the middle of a pandemic. And then, the first survey comes out. PSPP is third, far behind former minister Sylvain Gaudreault and comedian Guy Nantel. From Gaspé, it stops in Matane. “He was considering quitting the race. With his wife, Alexandra, they decide to go all the way. From there, we will see it rise,” remembers Pascal Bérubé. In the end, he collected 56% after three rounds.

But once elected, he is still in the desert. Pandemic obliges, he makes his speech alone, in front of a camera. “No human warmth. A beautiful moment, but completely sanitized,” recalls Marie-France Perreault. “I delivered a very bad speech. It was an absolutely disconcerting environment,” adds the main person concerned.

The next day, no invitation on the radio or on TV. “It’s like it didn’t happen. » And then, he realizes the extent of the party’s problems. Two million dollars in debt. “We had to convince the bank not to pull the plogue. »

Every day, the unelected leader tries to bring a little light to the National Assembly in an era dominated by COVID-19. At each press briefing, he is reminded that his party is in palliative care. “We were left for dead on the side of the road,” sums up Pascal Bérubé brutally. When the 2022 elections were called, “the possibility of parliamentary death was real,” notes Jean-François Lisée.

And yet, less than two years later, the crossing of the desert ends. PSPP managed to get elected as a deputy, to make his party survive, to win a partial election in a riding that the PQ had never won, and to climb to first position in the polls. How the hell did he manage all this?

“PSPP is a bit like the story of an underdog who ends up winning by being valiant,” says Pascal Bérubé. Instead, he sold his soul to the devil, those who don’t like him retort.