While all eyes are on the pro-Palestinian encampment at McGill, I want to talk to you not about what is happening, but about what is not happening in Montreal.
Certainly, the October 7 attack on Israel and the bombs that continue to fall on Gaza have raised the level of intercommunity tensions almost everywhere in the city. However, we only need to compare ourselves to understand the particular resilience of Montreal’s social fabric — until now. There are several possible explanations for this phenomenon.
First of all, it may seem strange to say, but the geography of the city helps us. In Toronto, several of the flagship institutions of the Jewish community are right in the city center, on the main arteries that mark the normal route of demonstrations. The situation gives rise to surreal moments that we have spared ourselves here.
For example, during a large demonstration on February 12, Toronto’s Spider-Man — a bit like the Anarchopanda of Montreal’s student spring — was among the crowd climbing the buildings along the route. Once on University Avenue, the anonymous figure climbed the facade of Mount Sinai Hospital before continuing on his way.
Canadians of Palestinian origin who have family in Gaza spoke at this demonstration, while the Israeli army announced plans to launch an offensive on Rafah. Their message did not get through. The next day, the entire Canadian political class was denouncing… the presence of Spider-Man and his Palestinian flag on a hospital founded by the Jewish community. Even Prime Minister Justin Trudeau deplored “this demonstration of anti-Semitism” on X.
It was not the first case of its kind. Because the demonstrations are sometimes found in front of their institutions, many members of the Jewish community in Toronto feel that we are demonstrating against them, personally, and not against the government of Israel. The organizers, of course, deny having such intentions. After nearly seven months of such tensions, social dialogue there has become almost impossible.
Luckily, in Montreal, the Jewish General Hospital is not on Sherbrooke Street, and most of Montreal’s schools, synagogues and Jewish community centers are located further from the heart of the action. We don’t stand on each other’s feet in the same way.
We also made tactical choices different from those here. There, there have been several demonstrations against businesses that operate in the occupied Palestinian territories or that financially support the Israeli army — and which are also run by Jewish people. While, on the one hand, we see in these gestures a political denunciation of what is being perpetrated by Israel, on the other, we only see a form of pogrom. Here too, everyone is on edge. More than here.
In Montreal, the most important building to have been targeted in this way is that of Radio-Canada, which was the subject of graffiti denouncing “complicity with the genocide” last November. The debate over anti-Semitism does not shield the protesters’ message in the same way.
I also don’t want to paint too rosy a picture of our situation. We will remember, for example, the completely unacceptable speech given by Adil Charkaoui during the demonstration on October 28. However, at this point, anyone who understands Montreal’s social movements knows that the man is a kind of opportunistic hot potato who emerges every time there is action to derail public dialogue. No one serious considers him a unifying voice.
Furthermore, the shootings against two Jewish schools in Côte-des-Neiges shocked the city last November. The case has aroused parents’ fears, and rightly so. Note that months later, no information allows us to establish the identity or motives of those responsible for these hate crimes.
Since last fall, we have barely heard anything in the media about the mayor of Côte-des-Neiges–Notre-Dame-de-Grâce, Gracia Kasoki Katahwa. If his team’s response to the attacks in his district had been completely insensitive, his name would be everywhere. The work of reassuring communities and reducing tension in our neighborhoods is done far from the spotlight. It is through what does not make the news, sometimes, that we can understand that, even if the situation is far from easy, things could go much, much worse.
Finally, during these almost seven months of a war that puts many people here on edge, the Montreal City Police Service (SPVM) has hardly made the headlines. Not because the police are inactive. But because choices have been made, until now, on how to intervene in the demonstrations and respond to complaints of anti-Semitic, anti-Palestinian or Islamophobic hate speech. When we hardly talk about the SPVM, although we walk in Montreal week after week, it is because, there too, things could go much worse than they are going so far.
This relative social peace in Montreal which persists despite everything in the context – I emphasize the word “relative” – is precious. And very fragile. The decisions of the SPVM, our courts and the McGill University administration this week could bring us closer to the level of tension that undermines most large North American cities.
Today, Montreal can decide to proudly assert its difference, or to erase it. The metropolis can move closer to Toronto or New York, or do things its own way. In the days, even hours, that follow, its leadership will choose.