The words were strong. First, “masters”. In 1962, when the slogan was displayed, no Quebecer (we called them “French Canadians”) thought they were masters of anything. We knew the masters: the British, American and Canadian multinationals. It would therefore be completely new, almost unthinkable, to be nothing more than employees, subordinates, servants. Then this “home” affirmed a singular space. It was no longer Canada, or even French Canada. It was the territory of Quebec, nothing more, nothing less, which we claimed to control, including the English-speaking bosses who until then thought they were untouchable.
Even stronger than the words, there was the image. A clenched fist which overcame the slogan with a power, nay, an arrogance, which had never been associated with our people. This raised fist had the appearance of both revolt and defiance. He held four lightning bolts in his hands, which looked a bit like Zeus around the edges, and illustrated the topic of the day: electricity. We were going to take it in hand – the ultimate audacity – by nationalizing it.
So, can you tell me what we went to do there, in Labrador, where, by definition, we are not and cannot be masters? The economist Daniel Larouche, co-author of Quebec, a century of electricity (Free expression), recalled in these pages that by purchasing Shawinigan Power, we had obtained, as a bonus, 20% of the company which was preparing to harness Churchill Falls in Newfoundland. Rather than removing our finger from this gear, even if it meant suffering the loss of part of this investment, the new Hydro-Québec assumed all of the risks of this enterprise which could have gone wrong.
For half a century we were the target of Newfoundland bad humor — an attempted expropriation, two appeals to the Supreme Court of Canada, an incessant lobby for the government of Pierre Trudeau to expropriate a “federal corridor” in Quebec , type of ” no Quebec land “, so that Newfoundland can transport its electricity to Ontario under our noses. In short, a colossal package of trouble. So that we find ourselves today with an electric gun to our heads: in 2041, the end of the contract signed in 1969, 13% of the electricity consumed in Quebec will see its cost jump.
What if, instead of getting entangled in the rivers of Labrador, our engineers had moved ahead with the work here (Outardes 2, Manic 3)? The development of La Grande would have been done earlier and would have cost 8 billion less, said the then president of Hydro, Robert Boyd, in 1980 (28.4 billion in today’s dollars). The amortization of these investments would be behind us, the kilowatt hour would be at a reduced price for eternity (like in around fifty of our other power stations) and no one would bother us with an end of contract.
Why, then, does our Prime Minister today want to take us on another roller coaster ride with neighbors who take us for boors, scammers, predators? This week, all honeyed with his Newfoundland counterpart, he was reprimanded by a characteristic “ show me the money “. A few months ago, Legault even revealed that the construction of dams in Quebec was only his “plan B”. His first choice is to invest billions in a new Labrador adventure, Gull Island.
What a splendid idea: Quebec will still be in the minority, on the territory of its neighbor, and probably the main donor and main customer. I am willing to believe that, on paper, the comparison of costs and risks may seem marginally satisfactory. History is not written on paper, but on the wind of the unpredictable. Or, here, the predictable: Newfoundland bad humor towards us, an infinitely renewable negative energy.
Let’s assume that 20 years from now, when Gull Island comes online, the recent American discovery of nuclear fusion has moved out of the laboratory and into industrial production and effectively enables the generation of low-cost electricity anywhere . Suppose it is another energy source — mini nuclear power plants — that is driving down demand and prices.
This would obviously be a disaster for Hydro-Québec and its facilities, as for all other more expensive sources of energy. The fact remains that if all of our equipment is at home, we will just have to turn off the switch and transform our dams into aquatic pools for tourists. But if we signed a new 70-year contract with Newfoundland, won’t we have to pay until our old age for electricity that we will no longer need?
And why think that our current Newfoundland supply would become unaffordable in 2041? The cost will increase, that’s for sure. But we are not in a weak position in this matter. Without us, who will they sell to? François Legault, great defender of French, wants “ upgrade » Churchill Falls. He could optimize it, improve it and, better yet, boost it.
This is defensible, especially since, since we are still co-owners of Churchill Falls, now at 32%, we make profits from our purchases. But if Newfoundland wants to make us pay a retroactive penalty for the previous price, my advice to Mister Legault is: “ Pull the plug. »
The energy trajectory into which François Legault wants to lead us seems profoundly anti-nationalist to me. Yet all of our history has taught us that no one gives us gifts and that we are only strong when we rely on our own means, our own talents, our own rivers. His pilgrimage to Newfoundland in February demonstrated that Legault had integrated the idea that, to succeed in his Labrador project, he had to convince the local inhabitants that their anger against us is understandable, that we hear their feelings, as the psychologists say. .
If we had no other choice, this dance of contrition could, ultimately, be justified. But since we have the choice, it is not up to the standards of Quebecers who had the astonishing courage to affirm at the ballot box, 60 years ago, that when it comes to electricity, they dared to be masters of them.
Jean-François Lisée led the PQ from 2016 to 2018. He has just published Through the mouth of my pencils, published by Somme Tout/Le Devoir. [email protected]