With the death of Bernard Descôteaux disappears a precious witness and an attentive and reliable actor of a decisive period of our history, that which immediately follows the first phase of the Quiet Revolution, which nourished two major unfinished political projects, namely the revision of the Canadian federal system and Quebec’s accession to independence. A period of real successes and great setbacks, a continuous adaptation to the changes in the world up to artificial intelligence.
Being a political journalist in such intense times is full of risks, as the deliberations are delicate, the polarizations are so intense, the ambitions are legitimate, even if they are sometimes formulated in excessive terms. To be a political journalist in these times of true polarization and continuous change and to maintain the trust and esteem of the large number of all options constitutes a remarkable human and professional achievement. Such was Bernard’s. Certainly, he was not neutral personally, but, as a journalist and columnist, he was fair to history and those who seek to influence it.
Exemplary, this positioning was based on a modern conception of history thought and appreciated over time, a commodity that has become rare; a true appreciation of the period preceding the Quiet Revolution and that opened by the Quiet Revolution; respect and real knowledge of the families and political leaders of Quebec, as well as its metropolis and its regions. In addition, Bernard knew and respected the essential components of our civil society, including the union movement and our great cooperative movement. This knowledge also extended to the economic and social institutions which structure the nation and allow it to think of itself and develop as a coherent and sustainable whole. He had contacts in all these environments allowing him to collect reliable information and make fair assessments. There was in his texts a rare combination of knowledge and demands, benevolence and respect, including in his sharpest criticisms and his most insistent recommendations. This is the Bernard I knew at Dutyin the early 1980s, and which I have since read with interest.
Much later, I visited him with a group of French-speaking parliamentarians. The director of Duty that he had become welcomes us with warmth and simplicity. In just half an hour, he paints a magnificent picture of our situation as a French-speaking nation in America and in the world. A fresco spanning the centuries until the Gulf War contested by the 300,000 demonstrators in the streets of Montreal, contested by Prime Minister Jean Chrétien. Simple, but masterful, his presentation touched his visitors who, long after this meeting, spoke of it with consideration.
An intellectually curious being, politically fair and reliable, socially attached to individual and collective rights, a benevolent being in all respects has just left us, a great journalist and a lover of Quebec. I salute him, as well as his work in this newspaper which was his second home and which he directed for almost two decades. We owe him respect and gratitude. For my part, I feel privileged to have had him as a colleague and sometimes as an advisor during my years at Duty.
To Marie and all her family, my deepest condolences.