nationalism and globalization / le nationalisme et la mondialisation

Transcription

Editorial Board / Comité de rédaction
Editor-in-Chief
Rédacteur en chef
Kenneth McRoberts, York University, Canada
Associate Editors
Rédacteurs adjoints
Isabel Carrera Suarez, Universidad de Oviedo, Spain
Daniel Salée, Concordia University, Canada
Robert S. Schwartzwald, University of Massachusetts, U.S.A.
Managing Editor
Secrétaire de rédaction
Guy Leclair, ICCS/CIEC, Ottawa, Canada
Advisory Board / Comité consultatif
Irene J.J. Burgers, University of Groningen, The Netherlands
Patrick Coleman, University of California/Los Angeles, U.S.A.
Enric Fossas, Universitat Autonoma de Barcelona, España
Lois Foster, La Trobe University, Australia
Fabrizio Ghilardi, Università di Pisa, Italia
Teresa Gutiérrez-Haces, Universidad Nacional Autónoma de México, Mexico
Eugenia Issraelian, Russian Academy of Sciences, Russia
James Jackson, Trinity College, Republic of Ireland
Jean-Michel Lacroix, Université de Paris III/Sorbonne Nouvelle, France
Denise Gurgel Lavallée, Universidade do Estado da Bahia, Brésil
Eugene Lee, Sookmyung University, Korea
Erling Lindström, Uppsala University, Sweden
Ursula Mathis, Universität Innsbruck, Autriche
Amarjit S. Narang, Indira Gandhi National Open University, India
Heather Norris Nicholson, University College of Ripon and York St. John,
United Kingdom
Satoru Osanai, Chuo University, Japan
Vilma Petrash, Universidad Central de Venezuela-Caracas, Venezuela
Danielle Schaub, University of Haifa, Israel
Sherry Simon, Concordia University, Canada
Wang Tongfu, Shanghai International Studies University, China
International Journal of Canadian Studies
Revue internationale d’études canadiennes
16, Fall / Automne 1997
Nationalism and Globalization
Le nationalisme et la mondialisation
Table of Contents / Table des matières
Daniel Salée
Introduction / Présentation . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5
Jan Penrose
Construction, De(con)struction and Reconstruction. The Impact of
Globalization and Fragmentation on the Canadian Nation-State . . . . . 15
Alain-G. Gagnon et François Rocher
Nationalisme libéral et construction multinationale : la représentation
de la « nation » dans la dynamique Québec-Canada. . . . . . . . . . . . 51
Earl H. Fry
Regional Economic Development Strategies in Canada and the
United States: Linkages Between the Subnational, National and
Global Settings . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 69
André Joyal et Laurent Deshaies
Des PME québécoises en région face à la mondialisation . . . . . . . . . 93
Jeffrey M. Ayres
From National to Popular Sovereignty? The Evolving Globalization of
Protest Activity in Canada . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 107
Donna R. McLean
A Rhetorical Analysis of the Canadian Free Trade Debate:
Establishing a Framework to Interpret Free Trade through Historical
Premise, Orientation Metaphors and Dissociation . . . . . . . . . . . . 125
Katarzyna Rukszto
National Encounters: Narrating Canada and the Plurality of Difference. 149
Open Topic Articles / Articles hors-thèmes
Colleen Ross
The Art of Transformation in Lola Lemire Tostevin’s Frog Moon . . . 165
Antonia Maioni
The Canadian Welfare State at Century’s End . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 173
Richard Vengroff and Zaira Reveron
Decentralization and Local Government Efficiency in Canadian
Provinces: A Comparative Perspective . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 195
Joseph B. Glass
The Settlement of Prairie Jews in Palestine, 1917-1939 . . . . . . . . . 215
Review Essays / Essais critiques
Diana Brydon
Sliding Metaphors: Rethinking the Nation in Global Contexts . . . . . 247
Peter Klaus
Genèse d’une littérature latino-américaine au Canada et au Québec? . . 253
Anne Whitelaw
Nationalism and Globalization: Exhibitions and the Circulation
of Objects . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 261
Présentation
Introduction
Mondialisation. À en croire certains,
le phénomène est irréversible et
incontournable. Mieux, il serait
porteur de défis économiques
vivifiants et d’un engagement
salutaire dans la promotion de
l’universel, dans l’aplanissement de
ces frontières géographiques,
symboliques, culturelles et politiques
qui séparent les communautés
humaines et limitent les capacités
d’accomplissement de l’humanité.
Pourtant, en même temps qu’elle
semble accélérer le pas et imprégner
de sa logique les sociétés modernes,
la mondialisation se bute à la
reviviscence de mouvements
nationalitaires dont on ne
soupçonnait plus l’existence et se
heurte à des particularismes
étonnants qui déstabilisent l’intégrité
des États. En fait, paradoxe étrange,
et contre toute attente, une certaine
tendance à la célébration de l’identité
subjective et l’émergence politique
de diverses formes d’identifications
personnelles et collectives
minoritaires semblent s’imposer
comme les pendants obligés de la
mondialisation.
Globalization: According to some
people, the phenomenon is
irreversible and ineluctable. Better
yet, it could usher in exciting
economic challenges and force a
healthy commitment to promote
universalism by smoothing away
the geographic, symbolic, cultural
and political borders that separate
human communities and limit the
ability of humankind to reach its
potential. Globalization, although
evidently setting the pace and
instilling modern societies with its
ideology, has run up against a
recrudescence of nationalist
movements whose existence has
nearly been forgotten. It has run
headlong into some surprising
forms of parochialism that are
destabilizing the integrity of the
State. In fact, paradoxically, and
contrary to all expectation, a
marked trend to celebrating
subjective identity, as well as the
political emergence of different
forms of personal and collective
minority identities, seems to be the
necessary counterweight to
globalization.
Ce paradoxe, le Canada en fait
régulièrement les frais. Alors que
l’État canadien cherche à répondre
aux exigences de la mondialisation
en tentant de promouvoir
l’intégration économique du pays et
en veillant à la cohésion du lien
social, diverses forces se conjuguent
pour remettre en question les appels à
l’unité et bousculer les prémisses
convenues de l’identité canadienne.
Elles adoptent des positions
politiques souvent sans appel qui, à
terme, peuvent conduire à
l’éclatement de la communauté
Canada already knows something
of this paradox. While the
Canadian State is looking for a way
to meet the dictates of globalization
by attempting to promote the
economic integration of the country
and ensure the cohesion of its
social fabric, a variety of forces are
combining to challenge the call to
unity and to undermine the
accepted premises of the Canadian
identity. Such forces adopt often
intractable political positions which
may in the long run lead to the
breakup of the Canadian polity or,
International Journal of Canadian Studies / Revue internationale d’études canadiennes
16, Fall/Automne 1997
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politique canadienne, ou, à tout le
moins, à des replis
intracommunautaires qui
menaceraient nécessairement toute
entreprise d’unification nationale. On
pense d’emblée au projet
souverainiste québécois, mais les
revendications particulières des
Premières nations, les réclamations
politico-administratives des régions
et la diversité ethnoculturelle
constitutive de la société canadienne
présentent aussi, chacune à leur
manière, un potentiel de disjonction
considérable.
La question qui se pose est simple et
s’inscrit en filigrane des textes qui
composent la partie thématique du
présent numéro de la RIÉC :
comment le Canada peut-il et
comment doit-il composer avec les
défis de la mondialisation? Ces défis
sont, à première vue, économiques et
renvoient à la restructuration des
marchés nationaux, mais ils
soulèvent surtout, de manière peutêtre plus profonde et plus
« interpellante », le problème de
l’unité sociale et politique du pays.
Dans le premier texte, Jan Penrose en
fait une démonstration éloquente en
analysant le procès graduel de
fragmentation de l’État canadien.
Loin de déplorer la remise en
question des assises historiques et
des conceptions hégémoniques de
l’identité nationale canadienne, elle
insiste plutôt sur le côté bénéfique
des développements contrehégémoniques paradoxalement
induits par la mondialisation.
L’affaiblissement de l’État-nation
comme base principale
d’identification personnelle et
collective permet l’ouverture de
nouveaux espaces propres à la
création et/ou à l’expression
d’identités autres que celle permise
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at the very least, to the retreat of
communities into themselves that
would of necessity threaten any
national unity endeavour. Coming
first to mind is the Québec
sovereignty agenda, but the special
claims of the First Nations, the
political and administrative claims
of the regions and the ethnocultural
diversity of Canadian society as a
whole pose, each in its own way, a
considerable disruptive threat.
This raises the question that forms
the subtext to the articles making
up the thematic section of the
current issue of IJCS: How can and
how must Canada come to terms
with the challenges of
globalization? At first glance, these
challenges would seem to be
economic in nature and relate to the
restructuring of national markets,
but they raise above all, and in
perhaps a more profound and
“interpellating” way, the problem
of the social and political unity of
this country.
In the first article, Jan Penrose
eloquently analyzes the gradual
process of fragmentation of the
Canadian State. Far from
bemoaning the reevaluation of the
historical foundations and the
hegemonic views of the Canadian
national identity, she emphasizes
the benefits of counter-hegemonic
developments to which
globalization has paradoxically
given rise. The weakening of the
role played by the nation-state as
the bedrock of personal and
collective identity opens up spaces
conducive to the creation and/or
expression of identities other than
the one permitted by the Canadian
State. According to Penrose, such
a development could defuse the
process of global integration, which
par l’État canadien. Pareil
développement, croit Penrose,
pourrait désamorcer le processus
d’intégration mondiale qui tend
généralement à consolider les
rapports de force dominants au
niveau national et pourrait donc, du
coup, susciter la mise en place de
rapports sociaux plus équitables. La
fragmentation de l’identité nationale
canadienne n’a, pour Penrose, rien de
dramatique. Elle pourrait au contraire
déboucher sur la mise en place d’une
logique sociale pluraliste et flexible
qui dépasserait les limites du
nationalisme et ferait obstacle aux
conséquences négatives de la
mondialisation.
Alain G. Gagnon et François Rocher
font implicitement écho à la
perspective générale développée par
Penrose. À partir d’une exploration
des écrits pertinents autour du
nationalisme québécois et de la
dynamique politique qui oppose le
Québec et le Canada, les deux
auteurs soutiennent que la résolution
du contentieux constitutionnel doit
passer par la transformation de l’État
canadien en un État multinational. La
tendance historique de l’État
canadien à oblitérer la diversité
profonde de l’espace socio-politique
constitue à leurs yeux un déni de
l’esprit fédéral et une menace pour
l’avenir de la démocratie canadienne.
Reprenant des thèmes chers aux
philosophes politiques canadiens les
plus en vue — les Taylor, Tully,
Kymlicka — Gagnon et Rocher
aspirent au développement d’une
citoyenneté multiforme, conforme à
la pluralité identitaire de la société
canadienne et ouverte à la
coexistence au sein de la
communauté politique de sentiments
d’appartenance divers. En l’absence
d’une volonté de reformuler le cadre
tends in general to consolidate
dominant power relationships at the
national level, while at the same
time bring about the establishment
of more equitable social
relationships. Penrose sees nothing
dramatic in the fragmentation of
the Canadian national identity; for,
in her view, such a development
could contribute to the formation of
a pluralistic and flexible social
pattern transcending nationalism
and stand in the way of the
negative consequences of
globalization.
Alain G. Gagnon and François
Rocher implicitly take up the thesis
developed by Penrose. Based on
their exploration of the relevant
literature on Québec nationalism
and the political dynamic that pits
Québec against Canada, they argue
that the constitutional question
must be resolved by transforming
the Canadian State into a
multinational State. From their
point of view, the historical
tendency of the Canadian state to
blot out the deep-seated diversity of
the Canadian polity constitutes a
rejection of the federal spirit and a
threat to the future of Canadian
democracy. Revisiting themes
close to the hearts of the most
prominent Canadian political
philosophers—Taylor, Tully,
Kymlicka—Gagnon and Rocher
aspire to the development of a
multiform citizenship that would
correspond to the pluralistic
identity of Canadian society, one
which would be open to the idea of
coexistence, within the political
community, of various feelings of
belonging. In the absence of a will
to recast the political-constitutional
framework of the Canadian State in
accordance with less restrictive
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politico-constitutionnel de l’État
canadien selon des paramètres
d’appartenance moins contraignants,
le Canada, estiment-ils, est condamné
à ne pas trouver de solution à
l’impasse politique actuelle.
parameters of belonging, Canada,
they feel, is condemned to never
finding a solution to its current
political impasse.
Opérant dans un tout autre registre
analytique, celui de l’économie
politique internationale, l’article
d’Earl H. Fry illustre combien le
poids des dynamiques locales force
une certaine reconfiguration de la
politique nationale. À partir d’une
analyse comparative des stratégies de
développement économique régional
au Canada et aux États-Unis, l’auteur
montre que le procès de
mondialisation amène les
administrations sous-nationales (les
provinces au Canada et les états aux
États-Unis) à s’impliquer beaucoup
plus directement dans la formulation
et la gestion des politiques
économiques et commerciales
nationales. Au Canada, il est devenu
presqu’impensable d’articuler
quelque stratégie économique
nationale sans l’accord préalable et la
collaboration des provinces. Fry note
que cela ne va pas sans compliquer la
mise en place des politiques globales
et implique, à terme, un
repositionnement du rôle de l’État
central.
Operating within a completely
different analytical framework, that
of international political economy,
Earl H. Fry in his article
demonstrates how the weight of
local dynamics compels a certain
reconfiguration of national politics.
Basing his argument on a
comparative analysis of regional
economic development strategies in
Canada and the United States, the
author demonstrates that the
globalization process leads the subnational administrations (the
Canadian provinces and the
American states) to become more
directly involved in the
development and management of
national economic and trade
policies. In Canada, it has become
nearly unthinkable to enunciate any
national economic strategy without
the prior agreement and
cooperation of the provinces. Fry
notes that this new arrangement
serves to complicate somewhat the
implementation of global policies
and implies, in the long run, the
repositioning of the role of the
central State.
L’article d’André Joyal et Laurent
Deshaies s’inscrit en quelque sorte
dans le prolongement de l’étude
précédente. Les deux auteurs
illustrent de manière spécifique
l’impact de la mondialisation au
niveau local. Leur analyse des PME
québécoises atteste l’existence d’une
volonté certaine au sein des
communautés économiques locales
de profiter des marchés d’exportation
ouvert par les récents accords
commerciaux de libre-échange. Ils
estiment cependant que trop peu
The article by André Joyal and
Laurent Deshaies can be read as an
extension to the foregoing study.
The two authors demonstrate, in a
specific way, the impact of
globalization at the local level.
Their analysis of Québec SMBs
reflects the existence of a definite
will, within local economic
communities, to take advantage of
export markets that have been
opened up under recentlyconcluded free trade agreements.
They believe, however, that all too
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d’entreprises profitent pleinement des
possibilités qui s’offrent à elles et
qu’une meilleure identification des
facteurs de réussite pourrait améliorer
la situation.
Dans l’article suivant, Jeffrey M.
Ayres se penche sur le sort des
mouvements canadiens de
contestation et de résistance politique
dans le cadre de la mondialisation.
Celle-ci, note l’auteur, semble avoir
eu un impact significatif sur
l’orientation des mobilisations
populaires au Canada. Explorant les
mouvements de contestation contre
les récents accords de libre-échange
dans lesquel le Canada s’est engagé
(ALE et ALENA), il remarque que
l’action des militants canadiens
transcende désormais les frontières
du pays et tend plutôt vers la mise en
place de coalitions transnationales.
Ce phénomène, conclut Ayres, met
en relief les limites du pouvoir de
mobilisation de l’État canadien et
soulève même certaines
interrogations quant à la centralité de
la souveraineté nationale comme
concept unificateur. Cela ne veut pas
nécessairement dire qu’il faille
s’attendre à voir bientôt émerger des
mouvements sociaux nordaméricains et transnationaux dûment
constitués, mais il y a là une tendance
nouvelle au niveau des stratégies
canadiennes d’action collective qui
pourraient décentrer la nation et
l’État qui l’incarne.
Les deux derniers textes de la section
thématique recourent à l’analyse
discursive et à la critique culturelle
pour saisir la tension qui existe entre
mondialisation et nation au Canada.
Donna McLean passe en revue le
discours des partisans et des
opposants au libre-échange pour
réaliser que les uns comme les autres
font abondamment usage de référents
few businesses take full advantage
of the market opportunities offered
them and that a better identification
of the factors contributing to
successful businesses might help
improve the situation.
In the next article, Jeffrey M. Ayres
investigates the fate of movements
of protest and political resistance in
the context of globalization in
Canada. The author feels that
globalization has had a significant
impact on the directions taken by
grassroots movements in Canada.
While investigating the protest
movements against the recent free
trade agreements signed by Canada
(FTA and NAFTA), he notes that
the actions of Canadian militants
have now gone beyond Canada’s
borders; he observes a trend
towards the formation of
transnational coalitions. This
phenomenon, concludes Ayres,
underscores the limits of the
mobilizing capacity of the
Canadian State and raises a number
of questions regarding the
centrality of national sovereignty as
a unifying concept. This does not
necessarily imply that one must
expect the imminent emergence of
duly-recognized North American
and transnational social
movements, but he sees a trend
towards collective Canadian action
strategies aimed at decentralizing
the nation and the State that
embodies it.
The last two articles in the thematic
section use discursive analysis and
cultural criticism in order to gain an
appreciation of the tension that
exists between globalization and
nation in Canada. Donna McLean
reviews the arguments of both the
defenders and the opponents of free
trade and concludes that both
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historiques pour formuler leur
argument respectif. La chose n’est
pas sans poser problème, car d’un
côté comme de l’autre on a librement
interprété l’histoire de la nation et de
l’État canadiens pour justifier des
positions contraires. Pareil appel
utilitaire à l’histoire dénature la
réalité et, selon McLean, soulève des
problèmes d’ordre éthique qui
compliquent la formulation de
politiques. Katarzyna Rukszto, pour
sa part, se penche sur
l’institutionnalisation de la « journée
du drapeau » (le 15 février), comme
moyen de dire et de faire la nation.
Rukszto note l’usage étriqué et fictif
qui, dans ce cas aussi, est fait de
l’histoire pour légitimer la vision
homogénéisante dominante de
l’identité canadienne.
La section hors-thème du présent
numéro comprend quatre articles.
Dans le premier, Colleen Ross
explore la problématique
« translationnelle » au cœur de Frog
Moon, un roman méconnu de Lola
Lemire Tostevin. Ross soutient que
l’oscillation de Laura, la protagoniste
du roman, entre deux cadres
temporels et deux langues évoque
plus que la dualité de sa personalité,
mais bien la capacité des êtres à
s’adapter à de nouveaux contextes et
à de nouveaux environnements afin
de maintenir la continuité et
l’intégrité de leur espace intérieur.
Frog Moon s’offre comme une
métaphore exprimant la riche
différence du vécu féminin par
rapport à l’unicité mâle et patriarcale
de la société.
Antonia Maioni présente ensuite une
analyse des transformations récentes
de l’État-providence canadien en
cette fin de siècle. Elle soutient
principalement que les réformes
actuelles des fonctions
10
groups make ample use of
historical precedents to buttress
their respective positions. The
issue does not admit of a simple
solution, since both sides have
liberally interpreted the history of
the nation and of the Canadian
State in order to justify their
diametrically-opposed positions.
According to McLean, this kind of
utilitarian use of history
misrepresents reality and raises
issues of an ethical nature that
complicate policy development.
Katarzyna Rukszto examines the
institutionalization of our “Flag
Day” (February 15) as a means of
nation-naming and nation-making.
Rukszto points to the narrow and
fictional usage of the flag, which,
in this case as well, makes use of
history for the purpose of
legitimating the dominant
homogenizing vision of Canadian
identity.
The non-thematic section of the
current issue contains four articles.
In the first, Colleen Ross explores
the “translational” issues at the
heart of Frog Moon, a lesser known
novel by Lola Lemire Tostevin.
Ross contends that the fact that
Laura, the novel’s protagonist,
seems to shift between two time
frames and two languages brings
forth much more than just the
duality of her own personality, but
rather the capacity of beings to
adapt to new contexts and new
environments in an effort to
maintain the continuity and the
integrity of their internal space.
Frog Moon can be appreciated as a
metaphor that expresses the wide
gulf that exists between the
feminine experience and the male
and patriarchal unicity of society.
providentialistes de l’État canadien
participent à la fois d’une
reconfiguration du rapport entre
l’État et la société au Canada et d’un
repositionnement politique des
principaux acteurs engagés dans la
formulation des politiques sociales.
L’éclectisme idéologique et la
structure fédérale de l’État canadien
qui ont originellement donné le ton
aux politiques sociales du Canada
font désormais place à un
changement de priorités qui accentue
la réglementation gouvernementale
plutôt que la protection sociale, la
mise en place de programmes cibles
plutôt que l’universalité de
l’assurance sociale et la
responsabilité individuelle plutôt que
collective. Ce changement de
priorités traduit en fait le rôle
nouveau qu’entend désormais jouer
l’État canadien dans la gestion de la
sphère socio-sanitaire.
Richard Vengroff et Zaira Reveron
donnent un relief institutionnel à la
réalité que décrit Maioni. Ceux-ci
considèrent les pratiques de
décentralisation administrative en
vigueur au Canada et évaluent leur
efficience dans la production et
l’opérationalisation des différents
services publics, à la lumière des
exigences nouvelles imposées par
l’esprit néo-libéral ambiant. Ils
proposent certains étalons de base
qui permettent de comparer le degré
et le succès des mesures de
décentralisation administrative d’une
province à l’autre.
Enfin, dans le dernier des articles
hors-thème, Joseph B. Glass relate
l’immigration en Palestine, entre
1917 et 1939, d’une centaine de Juifs
canadiens des provinces de l’Ouest.
Il se penche sur les raisons de ce
mouvement migratoire particulier et
analyse les plans d’établissement mis
Next, Antonia Maioni presents an
analysis of the transformation
taking place within the Canadian
Welfare State as our century draws
to a close. Her central argument is
that current reforms within the
Canadian Welfare State are a
function of the reconfiguration of
the relationship between State and
society in Canada and of a political
repositioning of the major players
involved in defining social policy.
The ideological eclecticism and the
federal structure of the Canadian
State, which originally shaped
social policies in Canada, are now
giving way to a change in priorities
that emphasizes government
regulation rather than social
protection, the implementation of
targetted programs rather than
universal social programs and
individual as opposed to collective
responsibility. This change in
priorities does in fact reflect a new
role that the Canadian State now
intends to play in the management
of our health and social systems.
Richard Vengroff and Zaira
Reveron provide an institutional
perspective on the situation
described by Maioni. They review
the processes of administrative
decentralisation taking place in
Canada today and measure their
effect on the production and the
operations in various public
services, in the light of the new
requirements imposed by
prevailing neo-liberal thought.
They propose certain benchmarks
that make it possible to compare
the degree and the success of
administrative decentralisation
initiatives in the various provinces.
Finally, in the last of the nonthematic articles, Joseph B. Glass
recounts the story of the emigration
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en œuvre pour la relocalisation en
Palestine de ces nouveaux colons
juifs. Ce cas mérite que l’on s’y
arrête parce qu’il diffère
sensiblement des mouvements
migratoires traditionnels des
populations juives nord-américaines.
Ceux-ci se font généralement de ville
à ville, alors que les Juifs des
provinces de l’Ouest ont opéré une
migration de campagne à campagne.
La transition n’a pas toutefois été
plus facile. Les Juifs canadiens ont
trouvé en Palestine des conditions
climatiques, agricoles,
technologiques, organisationnelles et
culturelles fort différentes de celles
auxquelles ils étaient habitués au
Canada.
Trois essais critiques bouclent ce
numéro en reprenant le thème de la
tension entre la mondialisation et
l’identité nationale. Diana Bryden
fait le tour de huit ouvrages récents
de critique littéraire qui portent de
façon générale sur le problème de
l’altérité dans le contexte national
canadien. Peter Klaus, pour sa part,
fait le point sur la littérature
canadienne et québécoise d’origine
latino-américaine, une littérature
profondément marquée par
l’expérience de l’exil et du
déracinement. Finalement, Anne
Whitelaw décrit et analyse deux
expositions récentes qui portent
l’une, sur le souvenir d’Expo 67 et
l’autre, sur des objets du passé
associés à des moments importants
de l’histoire du Canada. Pour
Whitelaw, ces deux expositions sont
emblématiques de notre rapport
parfois inconfortable au global. Elles
offrent au visiteur un ancrage
tangible dans l’histoire et le passé qui
lui permet de mieux saisir et de
mieux gérer sa propre position
12
to Palestine, from 1917 to 1939, of
some one hundred Canadian Jews
from the Western Provinces. He
explores the reasons behind this
peculiar migration and examines
the settlement plans implemented
for the relocation to Palestine of
these new Jewish colonists. This
case merits special attention,
because it differs markedly from
traditional migratory movements of
the North American Jewish
communities. While such
movements have generally taken
place from city to city, the Jews
from the Western Provinces
migrated from one rural setting to
another. The transition, it must be
said, was none the easier for that.
The Canadian Jews in Palestine
discovered climatic, agricultural,
technological, organizational and
cultural conditions that were very
different from those to which they
had become accustomed in Canada.
Three review essays round out the
current issue by addressing the
theme of tension between
globalization and national identity.
Diana Bryden reviews eight recent
essays of literary criticism which,
in general, bear on the issue of
otherness in the national Canadian
context. Peter Klaus discusses
Canadian and Québec literature of
Latin-American origin, a genre
heavily marked by the experience
of exile and uprootedness. Finally,
Anne Whitelaw describes and
examines two recent exhibitions,
one in commemoration of Expo
’67 and the other on historical
artifacts associated with important
events in Canadian history. For
Whitelaw, both exhibitions are
emblematic of our sometimes
uncomfortable position in relation
to the global arena. They provide
actuelle alors qu’il est projeté par la
force des choses dans le global.
Voilà donc un numéro aux
perspectives variées, qui devrait
permettre de mieux saisir les enjeux
complexes de la mondialisation et de
la production identitaire.
Daniel Salée
Rédacteur adjoint
visitors with tangible links to our
history and the past that enable
them to better understand and
control their own current situation
when the power of circumstances
forces them to grapple with global
issues.
We thus have an issue of IJCS
which explores a number of
different perspectives, and which
should help the reader better grasp
the complex issues of globalization
and the production of a national
identity.
Daniel Salée
Associate Editor
13
Jan Penrose
Construction, De(con)struction and
Reconstruction. The Impact of Globalization and
Fragmentation on the Canadian Nation-State
Abstract
This paper is concerned with the impact that processes of globalization have
had on the sovereignty and cohesiveness of nation-states in general, and on
the Canadian nation-state in particular. In identifying and evaluating these
impacts, the paper argues that processes of globalization are not intrinsically
new. Instead, it is suggested that recent concerns about globalization are
directly related to its increasingly visible impact on the preeminence and
stability of nation-states as the fundamental unit of contemporary geopolitical organization. The paper also argues that an important part of the
cumulative impact of globalization is the encouragement of parallel
processes of fragmentation which destabilize nation-states from within. As
processes of globalization weaken state structures from above, or outside the
state, spaces are created within the state in which resistance to hegemonic
power bases can generate internal fragmentation. While most of these
internal challenges do not threaten the state per se, they do undermine the
predominance of a single national identity and encourage the formation
and/or active expression of multiple and flexible identities. By displacing a
singular national identity, these alternative identities disrupt the links which
nationalist ideology has established between the existence of a nation and the
legitimacy of a related state.
To make these arguments, the paper begins with a discussion of Hayes’
(1945) seminal work on the ways in which nationalism encouraged political
entities (states) to go about building a conterminous cultural entity (nation).
After demonstrating how each of these mechanisms for creating a nation-state
was applied in the formative stages of Canadian nation-building, the paper
examines the ways in which recent processes of globalization have weakened
many of these cornerstones of Canada. This gradual undermining of the
nation-state is then related to the development of processes of fragmentation
which generate internal challenges to hegemonic views of what Canada is, or
ought to be. A concluding section argues that the resultant instability may
mark the emergence of a more fragmented Canadian identity, but that a move
toward multiplicity and flexibility may enable Canada to overcome some of
the limitations imposed by nationalism and, consequently, to counter
effectively some of the negative impacts of globalization.
Résumé
Cet article porte sur l’incidence des processus de mondialisation sur la
souveraineté et la cohésion des États-nations en général et l’État-nation
IJCS / RIÉC
canadien en particulier. En caractérisant et en évaluant ces incidences,
l’auteure du texte soutient que les processus de mondialisation ne sont pas
intrinsèquement nouveaux. Elle suggère plutôt que les préoccupations
récentes suscitées par la mondialisation sont directement liées à son
incidence de plus en plus manifeste sur la prédominance et la stabilité des
États-nations considérés comme les unités fondamentales de l’organisation
géopolitique actuelle. L’auteure soutient également qu’une part importante
de l’incidence cumulative de la mondialisation est due aux processus
parallèles de fragmentation, qui ont pour effet de déstabiliser les Étatsnations de l’intérieur. Au fur et à mesure que les processus de mondialisation
affaiblissent les structures de l’État, à partir d’instances supérieures ou
extérieures à ce dernier, des espaces internes sont créés, à l’intérieur
desquels la résistance aux fondements du pouvoir hégémonique peut résulter
en une fragmentation interne. Même si la plupart de ces défis internes ne
menacent pas l’État en tant que tel, ils minent la prédominance d’une identité
nationale unique et favorisent la formation et/ou l’expression active
d’identités multiples et flexibles. En déplaçant une identité nationale unique,
ces identités de substitution brisent les liens tissés par l’idéologie nationaliste
entre l’existence d’une nation et la légitimité de l’État qui lui est associé.
Pour soutenir ces thèses, l’auteur commence par discuter de l’ouvrage
précurseur de Hayes (1945) sur les façons dont le nationalisme amène les
entités politiques (les États) à constituer une entité culturelle contiguë (la
nation). Après avoir montré comment on a appliqué chacun de ces
mécanismes de création de l’État-nation aux stades de formation et de la
construction de la nation canadienne, l’auteur se penche sur les façons dont
les processus de mondialisation récents ont contribué à miner plusieurs de
ces pierres angulaires du Canada. Il établit ensuite un lien entre
l’affaiblissement progressif de l’État-nation et le développement des
processus de fragmentation qui posent des défis internes aux points de vue
hégémoniques sur qu’est ou devrait être le Canada. Dans sa conclusion,
l’auteur soutient que, même si l’instabilité qui en résulte pourrait signaler
l’émergence d’une identité canadienne plus fragmentée, il est également
possible qu’une tendance à la multiplicité et à la flexibilité permette au
Canada de surmonter certaines des limitations que lui impose le nationalisme
et, en conséquence, de contrecarrer efficacement certaines des incidences
négatives de la mondialisation.
Only since the mid-1980s has the concept of globalization achieved popular
currency but from then on, evidence of its presence can be found almost
anywhere people choose to look (Robertson 1992: 8; Waters 1995: 2).
Politicians find their scope of action influenced by the decisions of
multinational organizations; business people must respond to the effects of
“global” markets on local developments and plans; and individuals find
themselves using or consuming products which are no longer produced locally
and that often reflect the labour of people living in one or more countries far
removed from their final destination. However, despite these growing signs of
the importance of “global” networks and processes, there are good reasons for
suggesting that the phenomenon of globalization is much less new than is
frequently assumed. Even a brief and cursory pause for reflection reveals that
interaction and cultural diffusion—and not isolationism—have been the most
16
The Impact of Globalization and Fragmentation
on the Canadian Nation-State
prominent features of human history (cf. Barth 1969: 9; Mann 1996: 298-299).
As Hayes (1945: 2) has written:
Inventions or discoveries by particular tribes in particular regions,
such as the use of bronze or iron or the employment of the camel or the
horse or the manufacture of paper or the elaboration of the alphabet,
soon spread and provided common cultural patterns for numerous
tribes over wide areas.
Just as the spread of inventions and discoveries increased some commonalties
of human experience, other factors such as military conquest, commercial
interaction and the expansion of religious power led to the coalescence of
diverse groups of people into extensive empires and introduced loyalties that
extended beyond those of kin and tribe. Indeed, for much of human history,
people have aspired to forms of political organization that drew large swaths of
humanity together in common bonds of law and allegiance (however
inequitably) (Hayes 1945: 3). Despite occasional disruptions and geographical
variations, the general historical record of human existence on earth reveals a
steady trend toward increased global integration.
If this is the case, how are we to explain the recent upsurge of interest and
concern about the intensification of processes of globalization? As this paper
will argue, at least part of the answer to this question lies in the impact which
such processes have had on the fundamental units of prevailing global
geopolitical organization and the accepted repositories of sovereign power:
namely, nation-states. In other words, processes of globalization are seen as
potentially menacing because they are viewed through a lens which ignores the
relative newness of nation-states and assumes instead that such entities are
natural units of human and geopolitical organization. Although contemporary
signs of globalization are magnified by cumulative impacts and new
technologies, this does not—at a fundamental level—distinguish them from
previous mechanisms of global integration. As this suggests, it is not the
novelty of globalization that explains current concerns, but rather the potential
for such processes to undermine nation-states and to thereby seriously disrupt
the prevailing world order.
In order to develop this argument further, the following section demonstrates
the relative newness of nation-states by placing their rise in historical context
and by exploring how the ideology of nationalism encouraged political entities
(states) to go about building conterminous cultural entities (nations). Drawing
on seminal work by Carlton Hayes (1945), this paper illustrates how a range of
mechanisms for creating a nation-state was applied in the formative stages of
the Canadian nation-state. This is followed by a parallel examination of the
ways in which the cumulative impacts of ongoing global integration have been
exacerbated by recent processes of globalization to weaken many of the
cornerstones of Canada. Both discussions are important because they provide
empirical substantiation for some of the general theoretical claims being made
about globalization. This evidence of the gradual undermining of the nationstate is then related to the emergence of fragmentation processes which
represent internal challenges to hegemonic views of what Canada is, or ought to
be. A concluding section argues that although the combined impact of
17
IJCS / RIÉC
globalization and fragmentation may well be the de-centering of a Canadian,
national, identity, this need not be an exclusively negative development.
Instead, it is suggested that by reducing the centrality of the nation as the basis
of personal and group identities, new spaces may be opened up for the creation
and/or expression of additional identities; ones which may ultimately prove
instrumental in redirecting global integration away from the reinforcement of
prevailing hegemonies and toward more balanced, fulfilling and equitable
human experiences.
Nationalist Ideology and the Construction of the Canadian NationState
As indicated above, the dominant trend of human history has been one of
interest, sometimes tempered by fear but often balanced by curiosity, in other
places and peoples. This interest has been manifested in broad patterns of
cultural diffusion and mixing which have been the product of both choice and
imposition. Until the development of the ideology of nationalism in the 18th
century, these patterns produced a kind of internationalism that was driven by
the needs and aspirations of those who held power in a succession of empires,
and later, states, which rose and fell in various corners of the world. These
empires, and the states which succeeded them, were usually characterized by
cultural heterogeneity, and loyalties to these larger entities were frequently
superimposed on, but did not actively seek to displace, existing smaller-scale
loyalties to family, tribe and/or village. From this situation, the ideology of
nationalism emerged to transform notions of internationalism, and this is where
the origins of contemporary concerns about globalization can be found .
Beginning in western Europe, nationalism altered the prevailing situation in
two important ways (cf. Penrose & May 1991; Peirson 1996; Smith 1995: 1112; Wallerstein 1974). First, the ideology of nationalism promoted the
Enlightenment notion of “popular sovereignty” which argued that sovereignty
rested with “the people” rather than hereditary rulers. This generated the
parallel conviction that the government of states should be representative of all
of their inhabitants. Second, nationalism adopted the Romanticist notion of
“the nation” as its definition of the fundamental units of humanity and,
consequently, as the designation of “the people” which governments would
serve. This new unit of the nation was conceptualized as the immutable product
of bonding—through shared history, meanings and practices—between
distinctive groups of people and the territories which they occupied.
The ideology of nationalism linked these two ideas to the foundation of a new
world order by investing them with a natural, and hence inviolable, right to
power. It did so by arguing that unless specific nations controlled their own
affairs they would be unable to provide government that served the needs of
their people. Accordingly, proponents of nationalism worked to create “nationstates.” They did so because such units were seen as the only ones capable of
ensuring that the boundaries of the fundamental units of humanity (nations)
were coterminous with those of the political systems (states) which would
ensure the survival of nations as the laws of nature intended. From this point on,
nation-states became the sole, rightful repositories of sovereign power and
18
hence, the only legitimate mediators of international interaction.
Internationalism lost its loose definition and flexible practice and came,
instead, to refer to formalized interaction between nation-states which were,
ideally at least, free, equal and sovereign (Hayes 1945: 11-12).
Although the principles of nationalism are logically sound at an abstract level
and broadly appealing in their simplicity, they overlook the crucial fact that, in
practice, it is extremely difficult to divide human beings into discrete groups. In
part, this is because most people who have power over others and over the
territory which they occupy demonstrate a profound reluctance to relinquish
this power. At the same time though, the difficulty of applying the ideology of
nationalism is directly related to the fact that neither people nor territory can be
bounded in disconnected or uncontested ways. People have consistently
demonstrated multiple and divided loyalties and conflicts over specific areas of
land have characterized all of human history. The combination of an
attachment to power, and ambiguity about the division of people and territory
has meant that political boundaries have consistently taken precedence over
less tangible groupings of human beings (Hobsbawm 1992; Billig 1995). In
eighteenth century Europe, and in virtually every place where the principles of
nationalism have since been applied, this has meant that states have been
defined first, and only then have nations been constructed within them in an
attempt to generate the cultural unity—if not homogeneity—demanded by
nationalism.
Despite this fundamental contradiction between original theory and
subsequent practice, the links between membership in a nation and the right of
access to expanding civil society encouraged the development of loyalty to the
nation-state and a corresponding growth of national identity (cf. Habermas
1996). Crucially, however, this could not have happened without the active
intervention of the leaders of newly emerging states. The legitimacy of these
states was dependent on the existence of a nation, and because the clear-cut
nations of theory were not present, they had to be constructed. In 1931, Carlton
Hayes drew attention to this discrepancy between nationalist ideology and the
prevailing situation in Europe. He then used a discussion of Jacobin
nationalism to describe the processes whereby nation-states were actively
constructed to comply with the dictates of nationalism. Despite its apparent
historical specificity, this account identifies processes and practices which
set—in broad brush—an example which most subsequent nationalist
movements have applied. In the following discussion, each of these
mechanisms for creating a nation-state is outlined and their relevance to the
Canadian context is explored. This discussion begins with efforts to reinforce
the state structure before moving on to processes of nation-building within it.
Constructing a Nation-State, Part One: Reinforcing State Structures
As indicated above, the starting point for constructing a nation-state was
usually the securing of a generic state: namely, a geographical territory and the
population which it contained. The next step was to reinforce claims of
sovereignty over this territory and people by establishing a strong, centralized
power structure, usually in the form of a “national” government. Right from the
19
IJCS / RIÉC
beginning, the need for centralized administration was related to the
requirements of the prevailing mercantile system which was geared to national
economies. These economic considerations were important because they
promoted strong links between the success of a discrete—integrated—internal
economy and individual well-being; a connection which helped to build unity
while legitimizing the concentration of a wide range of powers.1 In some
countries, even the vestiges of earlier regional autonomy were swept away in
order to assert the power of central authority and to undermine local loyalties
which might conceivably compete with that demanded by the state. The
entrenchment of a centralized power structure was then rounded out by a
political system which was dominated by “national” political parties and by an
electoral system which reinforced the “national” government as the locus of
political activity and decision making. Once the political power structure was
in place and legitimized, governments could establish legislation which
reinforced the authority of the state and facilitated the active creation of a
corresponding nation while encouraging loyalty to it.
To some extent, the specificities of the Canadian context tempered the process
of establishing the parameters of the state as a prerequisite to nation-building.
In particular, Canada’s colonial origins; its gradual assumption of its current
boundaries; and its heavy reliance on immigration to populate the land, meant
that the entity of the state was much less of a given than in most European
contexts. Nevertheless, Canadian history reveals a similar pattern of concerted
attempts to entrench the fundaments of state structure. At the time of
Confederation (1867), previously independent colonies were united as the
largely self-governing Dominion of Canada within the British Empire.
However, the colonial inheritance of regional loyalties and infrastructures had
an immediate and restrictive impact on attempts to centralize power. Most
importantly, the French-Canadians in Quebec insisted on a federal state
structure as a condition of their membership in the new political entity. As this
suggests, the centralization of power was compromised right from the
beginning by pre-existing threats to state cohesiveness. However, the
establishment of a two-tier structure of government sought to defuse these
threats through accommodation and, as argued further below, this may have
worked to contain many demands of French-Canadian activism within the
realm of provincial politics for much of the formative period of the Canadian
nation-state. Moreover, the integrity of the Canadian state was reinforced by
restricting the scope of provincial autonomies and by integrating them into a
structure of government which ascribed substantial, and in some instances
overriding, powers to the federal level (Gibbins, 1994, 32-37).
In Canada, as in other countries, the entrenchment of a centralized power
structure was rounded out by a political system which was dominated by
“national” political parties. In the period prior to Confederation, resistance to
colonial oligarchies had led, by degrees, to the achievement of responsible
government (i.e., government responsible to the people) and with this, the
emergence of political parties to replace independent candidacies. This
situation was formalized with Confederation and, between then and 1921 only
two parties, the Liberals and the Conservatives, contested Federal elections and
these have remained the only parties to form a ruling Canadian government.
20
These two parties constituted the hegemonic political voice of Canada and the
adoption of an electoral system based on districts which were devised
according to population ensured that the locus of power would remain
geographically concentrated in the Canadian core of Ontario and Quebec.
Moreover, until 1917, the election system further defined and reinforced
hegemony by confining the right to vote to men who met a property
qualification. In Canada, as in other emerging nation-states, the political
system as a whole reinforced the legitimacy of state-centralized political
power, and protected the primacy of hegemonic groups within the society.
Perhaps more than in other countries, the history of Canada reflects the use of
the power structure invested in the state and in its executors to formalize the
boundaries of the emerging entity. For example, through a complicated
partnership between government and business, the Canadian Pacific Railway
was constructed to meet the conditions of British Columbia’s entry into
Confederation and to give Canada an outpost on the west coast of the continent.
The intervening territory (Rupert’s Land) was purchased in 1869 from the
Hudson’s Bay Company to secure control over a huge continuous tract of land
that constitutes much of the current Canadian state. Here, it is worth noting that
in addition to augmenting the size and improving the cohesiveness of state
territory, these annexations were motivated by the desire of internal hegemons
to increase the internal market and thereby enhance both their wealth and their
power within the state. Although Canada is somewhat unusual in that state
powers have been used to expand the boundaries of the state itself, the
formalization of the state and its reinforcement through the establishment of a
“national” political structure is consistent with the general pattern of nationstate construction.
Constructing a Nation-State Part Two: Building a Nation
Canadian history is also remarkably consistent with established practices of
building a nation once the state has been securely established. Given that very,
very few nation-states actually comprise a single nation, and given that
nationalism makes the existence of a nation a prerequisite to the legitimacy of a
state, it is not surprising that all states have had to work hard to construct a
nation. Possible mechanisms for building a nation were outlined by Rousseau
in 1772 in his Considération sur le Gouvernement de Pologne, which he wrote
at the request of a Polish nobleman (Hayes 1945: 25; Rousseau 1953).
Similarly, Herder (1744-1803) identified core cultural attributes of a nation and
thereby, however unwittingly, identified qualities to be constructed where they
could not be found already extant (Penrose & May 1991). However, it was the
Jacobins who were the first to actually apply some of these ideas and it was their
experiences which gave the rest of the world an example to draw upon (cf.
Hayes 1945: 57-76). Hayes identifies four main mechanisms for building a
nation, each of which involves implicit reinforcement of the existence of the
nation as well as attempts to unify diverse peoples and to imbue them with a
sense of loyalty to the new construct. In the following discussion, each of these
mechanisms is outlined in turn and their relevance to the Canadian context is
explored.
21
IJCS / RIÉC
The first of these mechanisms is the development of a “national” army and a
police force to both protect the country from external forces and to maintain
public order while guarding against internal opposition or insurrection. By
establishing these institutions, states claim a monopoly on the legitimate use of
force (Giddens 1985; Mann 1986), thereby securing an alternative means of
protecting the integrity of the state when diplomacy and negotiation fail. In
addition to reinforcing the power (and, hence, legitimacy) of the state, the
development of a national army also serves to unify the nation in pragmatic
ways. Through military service, people from different regions are brought
together; they are exposed to various parts of the country which they might
otherwise never have visited; and they are indoctrinated with an over-riding
allegiance to their common state which they share a duty to defend. Such
interaction has the capacity to break down prejudices developed out of
ignorance and/or fear of difference, and to engender uniformity through both
formal discipline and informal co-existence and common experience.
To anyone even remotely familiar with Canadian history, the notion that
conscription in a national army could be a unifying device might well seem
ludicrous. Conscription crises in both the First and Second World Wars
accentuated divisions between English and French Canadians more clearly
than virtually any other events in the country’s history. Different attitudes to
conscription (based largely on divergent views of Britain and the loyalty due it),
and the negative military experiences of some Francophones, have certainly
helped to fuel Quebec’s nationalist revival since the 1960s. But this should not
blind us to the historical functions which a national army has played in unifying
Canada. Aside from impacts of personal integration and exposure discussed
above, the military and national police forces have been instrumental in
establishing the present boundaries of the state itself and in reasserting the
dominance of the Canadian nation. For example, the intervention of the
Canadian (and British) troops in the North-West Rebellion (1885) secured the
territorial integrity of the country while incidentally demonstrating the
usefulness of a transcontinental railroad (a key to Canadian unity) and thereby
overcoming deep-set opposition to its continued funding (Elliott & Fleras
1990: 54; McNaught 1985: 178; Stonechild 1991). Similarly, the North West
Mounted Police were instrumental in winning the confidence of western Native
Peoples when they rebuffed whiskey traders from south of the border (Francis
& Palmer 1985: 184; Macleod 1985; Swainson 1985: 135). This trust was
crucial to the largely peaceful appropriation of Indian lands which now make
up virtually all of the Prairie provinces. More recently, the declaration of the
War Measures Act during the FLQ crisis of 1970 and the military intervention
in the Oka crisis of 1990 were both opportunities for asserting the preeminence
of national forces of defense and public order over provincial ones (Miller
1989: 289-307). Although Quebec nationalists may have resented these
displays of federal control, and even though this may have reinforced support
for secession, these events actively reconfirmed the nation-state’s overriding
right to exercise sovereign coercive power.
The second way of reifying the nation, and encouraging identification with it, is
through education. Although they had difficulty in implementing their plans,
the Jacobins were acutely aware of the capacity for education to introduce new
22
ideas and to inculcate new attitudes which actively reinforced and promoted
support for the emerging nation (Hayes 1945: 60-63). By establishing a
national system of compulsory education, the state could create a forum for
emphasizing particular (national) interpretations of both historical and
contemporary events and, perhaps most importantly of all, for standardizing
language. Language was widely accepted as one of the cornerstones of a nation
and by eliminating regional dialects or other languages, potential claims of the
existence of alternative nations could be eradicated. More progressively, a
common language would permit greater uniformity in the expression of ideas and
encourage the development of shared meanings, thereby facilitating
communication throughout the new national territory and among all of its
citizens.
In Canada, the federal structure tempered, but did not eliminate, the efficacy of
education as a mechanism for nation-building (cf. McNaught 1985: 279;
Janzen 1990: 96). At first glance, the fact that education comes under provincial
government control might reasonably suggest serious disruption in the
promotion of national cohesiveness through schooling. Yet, here again, the
contingencies of the Canadian situation proved otherwise for much of the
country’s history. Within Quebec, education was dominated by the Roman
Catholic Church which used its authority to promote religious conservatism
and cultural isolation (cf. Guidon 1988; Handler 1988). This tendency helped to
define French-Canadian distinctiveness, but also to contain it, and this left
Quebec Anglophones relatively free to develop and promote their own image
of Quebec as part of the Canadian whole. Moreover, provincial control of
education, combined with Francophone Quebec’s preoccupation with internal
affairs, gave other provinces the opportunity to erode, gradually and often
surreptitiously, their commitment to French-language teaching and to thereby
reinforce the English-Canadian construct of the nation.
In some instances, federal respect for provincial jurisdiction allowed such
national hegemonic biases to be promoted while permitting the federal
government to maintain the necessary illusion of protecting the interests of all
inhabitants equally. For example, in 1873, federal support for the Mennonite
privilege of educating their own children in their own schools was a
precondition of emigration to Manitoba (Janzen 1990:95-96). At the time, this
was seen as a minor concession given Canada’s overriding nation-building
priority of settling the west and thereby securing sovereignty over this territory.
By the 1890s, however, this goal had been achieved and the provincial
government felt no compulsion to honour earlier federal agreements with the
Mennonites when these interfered with new goals of building a united nation.
Equally, the federal government chose not to intercede in defense of its past
commitments. Once the state’s territorial integrity had been secured, the task of
building a uniform nation could proceed and the value of education in the
process was recognized clearly. The prevailing view was succinctly expressed
by the Manitoba Free Press when it asserted that the modern democratic state:
cannot agree that the parents have the sole right of determining what
kind of education their children shall receive ... The children are
children of the state of which they are destined to be citizens; it is the
23
IJCS / RIÉC
duty of the state that they are properly educated (selective quotation
from Janzen 1990: 97).
As this suggests, the historical record from this period clearly reveals the
intention to use schools to produce citizens whose commitment to Canada
overrode all other allegiances.
One final example of the ways in which education was used to construct and
unify the emerging Canadian nation was through the treatment of Status
Indians, who fell under the purview of the Federal Government. Initially,
schools for Native People were established on reservations and staffed largely
by missionaries, but when this failed to reduce the influence of Indian parents
and their “primitive” customs, or to inspire interest or achievement in
education, Native students were removed to Residential Schools (Tobias 1976
& 1987; cf. Chalmers 1977). In the case of Native Peoples, discrepancies
between their visible and assumed attributes and the idealized Canadian citizen
were seen by many to preclude integration (Milloy 1991: 148). As a
consequence, education was used more to destroy other cultures—and the
loyalties which they supported—than to inspire allegiance and conformity to
emerging Canadian norms.
The third general mechanism for advancing nation-building was the
development of national media. First through print, and later radio and
television, media granted a means for consistently (sometimes even
relentlessly) exposing the population to national events and for propagating
national perspectives on external developments—all in standardized language.
Media are capable of creating an imagined community among the specific
audience exposed to it, and the news or other information thus conveyed comes
to be seen as belonging to this select audience (cf. Anderson 1983). As such,
media has an enormous capacity to reify the nation while, crucially, arousing
loyalty to and thereby membership in the nation as a basis of self-identification,
generating an all-important sense of belonging. In Robins’ terms, media
“assumed a dual role, serving both as the political public sphere of the nationstate and as the focus for national cultural identification”(1995: 249).
In Canada, as in other countries, the earliest forms of media were news sheets
and newspapers and these were unequivocally implements of political
propaganda. The earliest papers depended entirely on the patronage of the
colonial government. After 1867, the federal government continued this
practice by subsidizing newspaper publishers by granting of special postage
rates (Rutherford 1978). Moreover, newspapers in Canada have always been
characterized by partisanship. In the formative stages of nation-building they
were frequently established with the explicit intention of promoting specific
political movements, parties and/or leaders (Rutherford 1978). Strong links
between government, opposition parties and newspapers made the latter one of
the most important mediums for promulgating hegemonic views of what the
Canadian nation was or ought to be. According to Burnet and Palmer (1988:
204), Canada’s English-language press:
welcomed [pre-W.W.I] immigration as necessary to fill the empty
spaces of the West with producing farmers. But even then caution was
sometimes called for, lest Canadian institutions, inherited from
24
Britain, and Anglo-Saxon Canadians be submerged by foreign
hordes...
These sentiments were inflamed between 1905 and 1914 when press
opposition to Chinese immigration was universal and vituperative; after 1917,
when alarmist reporting about the size of proposed immigration of Mennonites,
Hutterites and Doukhobors stirred up such public resistance that their entry into
Canada was temporarily banned; and again in the 1930s when depression
generated antagonism to immigration of any kind (Burnet and Palmer 1988:
206; Janzen 1990: 14). Although the direct financial dependence of
newspapers on political parties declined in the course of the 19th century, this
did not reduce their partisanship nor their capacity to influence public opinion.
Moreover, the parallel rise in the importance of advertising revenue for
newspaper survival meant that the opinions and values of businessmen were
granted considerable influence in the formulation of hegemonic views.
Just as direct government financial involvement in newspapers began to wane,
broadcasting emerged as a new and powerful medium for communicating
national events, promoting hegemonic views, and encouraging national
cohesiveness. This new medium was especially well-suited to Canada because
it offered a relatively inexpensive means of bridging vast distances and
reaching fragmented—and often very isolated—populations. The Canadian
government was a little slow off the mark to recognize this potential and the first
pioneers of radio in Canada were commercial enterprises intent on selfpromotion. The Canadian National Railways established a radio department
which began to broadcast plays in 1925. Other companies such as Imperial Oil
and the Canadian Pacific Railway also got into the act by sponsoring national
broadcasts (Rutherford 1978: 79-81; Raymond 1962).
These private initiatives came to an abrupt end in 1932 when the federal
government granted a monopoly of network broadcasting to the publicly
owned Canadian National Radio Broadcasting Commission (CNRBC) with a
mandate to provide programs and extend coverage to all settled parts of the
country (Rutherford 1978; Peers 1969; Audley 1983: 183-191). Despite private
sector resistance, Canada’s commitment to public control of broadcasting was
reinforced in 1936 when the CNRBC was replaced by a much expanded
Canadian Broadcasting Corporation (CBC). The significance of broadcasting
to nation-building is reflected in the fact that the primary motivations for
establishing the CBC were to challenge American acquisition of Canadian
stations and to offer alternatives to the programs which were flooding across
the border from the United States. In general, successive Canadian
governments have an admirable record of resisting the temptation to use their
control of radio, and, after 1952, television, in partisan ways. By the same
count, however, the decision to establish a national broadcasting service and
the subsequent development of programming which promoted the Canadian
nation while encouraging nation-wide interaction (often live on the air) gave
hegemonic groups in Canada mastery over the application of media to the goals
of nation-building (cf. Lacroix 1996: 67).
Here again, it is important to note that both early print media and more recent
public radio and television were organized along English-French linguistic
25
IJCS / RIÉC
lines. There can be little doubt that Radio-Canada television, in particular, was
a powerful force in generating a clearer sense of Québécois distinctiveness as a
group. Yet, the significance of these developments in recent years (in a period
of intensified globalization) should not be allowed to alter the often quite
different significance of historical experience at the time it was lived. As was
the case with education, one of the most prominent characteristics of
Francophone media was its introspective nature and, consequently, its relative
containment within Quebec. While this did allow seeds of nationalism to be
sown and nurtured, it took time for these to grow: as this was happening, the
capacity for media to promote and refine hegemonic visions of a predominantly
English Canada were working to unify the rest of the country, including parts of
Quebec, and to strengthen loyalty to the encompassing nation. Throughout this
process, all public broadcasting continued to rely on state funding. This
commonality was itself a unifying structure which had the added nationbuilding advantage of allowing the federal government to maintain some
measure of influence.
The fourth mechanism for building a nation involves creating national
symbols which effectively link other aspects of nation-building together while
heightening their visibility and significance. For example, national flags and
anthems tap into and mobilize emotive responses to the nation as a source of
both community and personal identity, and are deeply embedded in the
activities of the military and schools, not to mention broader cultural events
and, occasionally, media. Each time that the national flag is flown or the
national anthem sung, the existence of the nation is reiterated and personal
connections and loyalties to it are aroused and validated. The same effect is true
of other national symbols such as national holidays, national sports or
competitions, and a whole range of cultural activities, both popular and
highbrow. Symbols, just like institutions of the military, education and media,
confirm the existence of a nation and invite, indeed often command, personal
allegiance to it.
Canada has worked hard to deploy national symbols; both in their own right,
and as a means of merging other aspects of nation-building while enhancing
both their visibility and significance. To a remarkable extent, however,
Canada’s colonial heritage and the related desire of hegemonic groups to retain
links with Britain, generated a reluctance to replace British national symbols
with more exclusively Canadian ones. This is reflected in the fact that Canada
did not adopt an independent national coat of arms until 1921 and even then it
was one which strongly reflected its mixed colonial heritage (Penrose 1994:
166). Similar reluctance to shed associations with Britain are revealed by the
fact that it took some forty years and much heated debate before Canada
adopted the Maple Leaf as its own unique national flag in 1965. Moreover, it
was not until 1967 that O Canada replaced God Save the King/Queen as the
Canadian national anthem. Rather than suggesting a lack of vision for an
independent Canadian nation, these decisions about formal national symbols
demonstrate that until very recently, the hegemonic view of what Canada
was—and ought to remain—was overwhelmingly British.
26
At the same time, the development of less formal national symbols
acknowledged a tempering of British inheritance with more distinctively
Canadian experiences. For example, it was ice hockey and the National Hockey
League (founded in 1917)—and not football, rugby or cricket—that united
sports fans across the country. Moreover, it was through the CBC that Hockey
Night in Canada became something of a national institution and its theme
music as moving to many people as an alternative national anthem. As
suggested above, the CBC itself became another national institution, one which
was frequently drawn on to distinguish Canada from its crassly commercial and
profit-oriented neighbour to the south. In terms of art, it was the Group of Seven
(formed in 1920) that came to symbolize Canadian painting and, although not
exclusively landscape painters, these artists were instrumental in developing
and disseminating perspectives which highlighted the distinctiveness of
Canadian geography and environments (McMichael Collection 1983). It was
not until the 1950s, however, that other “high” cultural activities like opera and
ballet developed formal companies which were granted national epithets.
Nevertheless, the description of these organizations as “Canadian” or
“National” distinguishes them from other cultural activities and reflects, once
again, hegemonic prerogatives in defining Canadian culture.
Constructing a Nation-State, Part Three: The Role of Hegemony
As the preceding discussion has demonstrated, mechanisms which have
commonly been used in the construction of states and their legitimizing nations
have been relevant in the Canadian context. However, an understanding of the
mechanisms for creating these entities should not be confused with an
understanding of their content. This is where hegemony comes into play. In
Gramsci’s terms, hegemony refers to the power of a dominant group to
persuade subservient groups to “accept its moral, political and culture values as
the ‘natural’ order” (Jackson 1989: 53; cf. Gramsci 1971, 1979, 1985; Williams
1976: 108-114 and 1977: 144-146). At the same time, Gramsci recognizes that,
even though the oppressed may acquiesce to their subordination, there will
always be bases of resistance to the power of the dominant group. Accordingly,
hegemony is rarely attained because it is always subject to negotiation between
dominant and subordinate groups.
Given that few states comprise a single nation it is not surprising to find that
nation-states tend to be characterized by a prominent group which acquires
power in areas such as state government, national institutions (like education
and law), and economics. Although the composition of this group can shift over
time, sometimes in response to internal resistance, the existence of a hegemonic
group is characteristic of most societies. This group has the power to decide
what any given nation is, or ought to be, and to then convince the population at
large that this is the “natural” and most desirable order of things. This process of
convincing usually involves some or all of the mechanisms for creating a nation
discussed above, and the construction itself frequently bears a remarkable
likeness to the self-image and aspirations of those who have power to forge it.
This is certainly true of the vision of Canada which emerges from its history of
nation-building. The hegemonic ideal prescribed that, in customs, Canadians
27
IJCS / RIÉC
would be British; they would speak the English language (though some French
had to be tolerated, temporarily at least); they would hold to the Christian faith
(preferably Protestant); and, incontrovertibly, they would be white.
Throughout much of Canadian history, immigration policy was wielded as an
indispensable mechanism for selecting prospective citizens according to these
characteristics (Smith 1993). Although hegemonic leaders were not adverse to
using people who did not possess these attributes to secure rights to territory, to
build the infrastructure of their country, or to enhance its economic position,
such people were expected to assimilate where possible and to return to their
own countries if the offending attribute could not be changed. Moreover, the
hegemonic vision of the Canadian citizen was explicitly male and implicitly—
insofar as other alternatives were even considered—heterosexual. It was
overwhelmingly men who defined women’s roles as dependent helpmates of
men and who ensured that female societal contributions would not threaten
male dominance (cf. West 1997). Similarly, a commitment to heterosexuality
was entrenched in laws which, between Confederation and 1969, made
homosexuality punishable by up to fourteen years in prison. Although the
actual composition of hegemonic groups shifted slightly over time, and
between internal factions, they shared a common commitment to a vision of
Canada which acknowledged its colonial inheritance in language, custom and
religion, and which saw men as the rightful molders of a white heterosexual
nation.
As argued above, this recognition of colonial inheritance did make room for
French-Canadians but the associated power tended to be exercised in ways
which reinforced the Catholic Church’s promotion of isolationism behind the
protective walls of provincial infrastructures. Meanwhile, other provinces used
their parallel rights of internal autonomy to promote visions of Canada and its
citizens which were grounded firmly in the British legacy. The federal state
structure permitted both of these developments while ensuring that
Francophone involvement in “national” politics would implicitly reinforce the
legitimacy of the encompassing nation-state. Crucially, this state was
increasingly dominated by constructions, imaginings and symbols of British
heritage which were transplanted and adapted to the Canadian context. In those
rare instances where French inheritance was incorporated into the emerging
vision of the Canadian nation, it was through appropriation and/or
Anglicization; processes which altered original meanings and bolstered the
position of English hegemony. Although the importance of the “French factor”
in the evolution of Canadian society cannot be denied, its present
manifestations should not detract from an appreciation of the consistency and
resolve of efforts to imprint British-based ideals on the Canadian nation-state
and its citizens. In fact, the persistence and success of these efforts may help to
explain the recent and extremely powerful upsurge of Québécois resistance to
this overarching vision. Moreover, we may need to give increased
consideration to the role which shared views of race, gender and sexuality
played in providing vital common ground for the cooperative construction of a
Canadian nation.
28
De(con)struction: Globalization and Fragmentation as Challenges to
the Nation-State
As argued above, initial conceptions of the nation-state saw such polities as the
means of perpetuating internationalism by allowing the integration of selfdetermining entities into a loose global federation based on liberty, equality,
peace and human progress. However, the difficulties of actually defining states
according to discrete nations meant that the spread of nationalism led to the
growth of inward-looking territorialism and enforced conformity to
hegemonic views of any given nation. Since the 18th century, the ideology of
nationalism, and the world order based on the “nation-states” which it fostered,
have become firmly entrenched as the basis of global geo-political
organization. Although nation-states disrupted ongoing processes of global
integration by introducing new structures for mediating them, such processes
were not eliminated. Since about the 1960s, these processes have become
increasingly visible and, consequently, a source of increased attention and
concern. In my view, this is a product of both their cumulative impacts and,
most specifically, their apparent capacity to threaten the prominence and
stability of nation-states. The following discussion attempts to develop this
position by outlining the ways in which processes of globalization challenge
the post-enlightenment prominence of nation-states; including the
encouragement of internal fragmentation (cf. Giddens 1990: 64; Smith 1995).
The relevance of these processes is then illustrated by applying them to the
Canadian situation.
De(con)struction: The General Impact of Globalization and Fragmentation
on Nation-States
When viewed in terms of their impact on nation-states, processes of
globalization can be defined as those which originate on the supra-state level
and challenge these nation-states from “above” or from outside the state.
“Globalization involves those processes which have the capacity to disrupt,
circumvent or supersede the systems of power relations which exist between
nation-states and which once provided them with mutually reinforcing
guarantees of continued sovereign control” (Penrose 1995b: 16). Although the
post-Enlightenment world has never been characterized exclusively by
interactions between nation-states, the growth of non-governmental
organizations since 1945 (and especially after 1970) has been staggering
(Agnew & Corbridge 1995: 193; Held 1989: 196).2 Even more threatening to
the power base of nation-states is the development of supra-state economic
networks and systems which transpose many economic decisions to levels, or
spheres, of operation that are beyond the reach, or purview, of individual
nation-states. Other important challenges to nation-states come from the
growth of formal multi-state organizations, such as military, economic and
political alliances, which are gradually acquiring some responsibility for
matters that were once the exclusive mandate of nation-states. Although these
organizations are still comprised of nation-states, membership in them requires
relinquishing of some of the sovereign powers (e.g. the monopoly of coercive
force and ultimate legal authority) that were fundamental to the initial rise of
nation-states and which have remained instrumental in maintaining of their
29
IJCS / RIÉC
legitimacy. Similarly, even though increased international involvement may
be revising the responses of nation-states and generating new responsibilities
for them (Mann 1996), this has not been paralleled by the emergence of new
sources of power. Though it is not always direct, current changes in the
distribution of (sovereign) power are unidirectional: away from nation-states,
and towards supra-state organizations. The net effect is to break up the nationstates’ monopoly of sovereign power and consequently weaken of their
position in the world order. Although many countries, especially in the less
developed world, have barely achieved the stage of having states (Hall 1994;
Mann 1996), this does not alter the relevance of processes of globalization to
the global geo-political order. The fact that well-established nation-states have
been unable to eliminate or reverse these processes is, in itself, a manifestation
of their growing impotence. In addition, the demonstrated importance of
“copying from other states” to the spread of nationalism and to nation-state
formation (Cochrane & Anderson 1986: 213) makes it reasonable to expect that
problems of eroding state sovereignty in the developed world will affect other
countries and that those without strong state structures may well be among the
most vulnerable to processes of globalization.
Where processes of globalization have undermined some of the functions of
states in the modern world, they have also actively disrupted assumptions about
cultural unity and distinctiveness which have long been used to “prove” the
existence of a nation and to thereby legitimize the right to statehood.3 For
example, the massive labour migration which has been a concomitant of
economic globalization has led to substantial increases in the cultural diversity
of the population of most states (cf. Habermas 1996: 289). Thus, even where it
once seemed that a distinctive group of people was the sole occupant of a state,
this illusion of uniformity has become increasingly difficult to sustain.
Similarly, processes of globalization have undermined assumptions of cultural
integrity by altering or diversifying cultures in situ. This means that even where
people have not moved from their place of birth, the diffusion of cultural
attitudes and products from more powerful groups can significantly reduce
cultural distinctiveness. Through this process, the capacity for culture to help
“prove” the existence of a unique nation is seriously undermined and the
legitimacy of the nation-state is correspondingly weakened.
In combination then, processes of globalization have had two major impacts on
nation-states. First, they have allowed supra-state organizations to usurp some
of the power that nationalism originally ascribed to nation-states. Second, they
have diluted the cultural basis for claiming the existence of a nation and hence
(by the logic of nationalism) a right to sovereign political power in the form of a
state. While these two consequences are important in their own right, the
impact of globalization does not end here. By transferring power and attention
to the supra-state level, processes of globalization have the added effect of
opening up new spaces of resistance to the hegemonic order of established
nationalism within individual nation-states (cf. Harvey 1990: 301-306). This
resistance is manifested in what can be called processes of fragmentation.4 To
some extent, the gradual development of nationalism as an exclusive and
protective ideology can, itself, be seen as a manifestation of fragmentation in
response to, or as byproduct of, the globalization which occurred during the
30
18th and 19th centuries. Today, processes of fragmentation occur on a sub-state
level and they challenge the nation-state’s right to power from “below” or from
within the state. Importantly, such challenges are often aided by the existence
of supra-state organizations which globalization has helped to engender. For
example, marginalized minorities can lobby the United Nations for sanctions
and/or condemnations against internal hegemonic groups. Similarly, aid
granting organizations can provide funding which allows minorities to bypass
nation-state controls and to thereby reduce dependencies that help to reinforce
the internal status quo. A more autonomous example of the way in which
processes of fragmentation have threatened the power-base of the nation-state
is the formation of both supra- and sub-state political alliances. Such alliances
provide solidarity on a whole range of levels. This has proven effective in
heightening popular awareness of environmental issues and in attracting
support for peace movements. Similarly, this kind of alliance has been effective
in drawing attention to the experiences of sub-state minorities while assisting
with the development of strategies for resisting marginalization. As these
examples suggest, cross-national alliances may also have an important role to
play in challenging current directions of globalization, and I shall return to this
idea below.
These challenges to the power-base of nation-states have been effective, but the
overt questioning of assumptions about national distinctiveness within these
states has been the main threat posed by processes of fragmentation. Where
processes of globalization have actively altered the cultural composition of
nation-states, those of fragmentation have asserted that the nation-state was
never uniform. By simply mobilizing identities which are different from that
which officially defines the nation-state, claims of unity, let alone uniform
“national” distinctiveness, have become extremely difficult for established
nation-states to sustain. When combined, processes of globalization and
fragmentation pose a serious threat to original constructions of all nation-states
and Canada is no exception.
De(con)struction: The Impact of Globalization on the Canadian Nation-State
Like most other states in the contemporary world, the past fifty years have seen
a significant increase in Canada’s involvement in supra-state organizations. In
formal political terms, Canada’s global integration is best illustrated by its
active membership in the United Nations since it was formed. In this context,
the combination of relative wealth and limited interventionist aspirations have
brought Canada influence and respect in the international community which
are disproportionately large compared with its population or power.
Conversely, the combination of a small population and enormous territory have
always left the country vulnerable to external powers. Canada’s shift away
from the British sphere of influence and towards that of the United States
corresponded with the decline in global influence of the former and the rise of
the latter to super-power status. In 1949, Canada joined with the United States,
Britain and the states of Western Europe to form the military alliance called the
North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO). However, the intensification of
the Cold War (an aspect of globalization in its own right), and common
concerns for the defense of North America, engendered further cooperation
31
IJCS / RIÉC
between Canada and the United States. This was first manifested in the joint
construction of early warning radar systems in the north: the Pinetree Line in
1954, and then, further north still, the Distant Early Warning, or DEW line, in
1957 (Francis et. al. 1988: 345). This was an important first step in the full
integration of Canadian and American air defense forces, which was
formalized in the signing of the North American Air Defense Agreement
(NORAD) in 1958. Although under joint command, the headquarters of this
organization were located in Colorado, outside of Canadian territory. Each of
these developments marked a reduction in Canada’s sovereign control over its
own defense; power was transferred to supra-state organizations. In Held’s
terms (1989: 195), sovereignty was not annulled but it was qualified through its
exposure to negotiation.
While the sharing of responsibility for national defense between states marks a
major change in the function, and power, of nation-states, it is in the realm of
economics that the Enlightenment legacy of political organization has come
under most serious attack. As in many other western countries, the post-World
War II period in Canada was characterized by an enthusiastic embracement of
Keynesian economic doctrines, and for a time this appeared to grant Canada
new capacities to develop economic policies which would reinforce the unity of
the nation state. To a considerable extent, this was a product of internal
hegemonic concurrence with the prevailing world view that economics needed
to be liberalized, and Canada willingly joined the International Monetary Fund
(1944), the World Bank, and the General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade
(1948). This increase in international integration was manifested internally in a
rapid growth of prosperity and, during the 1960s, in the concomitant rise of a
Canadian welfare state. The development of wide-ranging systems of social
security, combined with the introduction of sweeping social reforms, were
crucial to the ongoing development of Canadian unity because they actively
strengthened and expanded the substance of Canadian citizenship (cf.
Habermas 1996: 291).
At the same time, however, the nature of Canada’s increased international
integration was sowing the seeds of economic dependency. Ironically, the
relative freedom to devise national economic policies resulted in an economy
which was heavily reliant on the export of natural resources and on vulnerable
branch plant manufacturing. Given Canada’s colonial history, it is not
surprising that foreign ownership has always been present, but here again, the
post World War II period brought marked intensification of this trend. By the
1960s, the level of external control of the Canadian economy had reached
proportions which inspired fear and resentment in many Canadians. In 1968,
approximately 80% of Canada’s petroleum and gas industry was under foreign
(largely US) control, and comparable figures for mining and manufacturing
were 70% and 57%, respectively (Watson 1988: 655; cf. Fleet 1972: 20-22).
Multinational management of these resources was unequivocally geared to the
service of their own interests rather than those of Canada. Perhaps the best
example of this is the development of branch plants. These manufacturing
operations were set up by (primarily) American firms to serve the Canadian
market, while avoiding high transport costs and import duties. Moreover, such
companies benefited from the fact that products produced in Canada could
32
enter other countries in the British Empire at preferential tariff rates. However,
when demand for products fell, or when cheaper sources of supplies or labour
could found elsewhere, parent plants in the USA would maintain operations but
those in Canada would be closed down.
The enormous financial power of these multinational companies, combined
with their international interests, meant that Canadian governments were both
reliant on their good will and unable to induce or pressure them to manage their
Canadian operations in ways which gave priority to considerations of national
economic stability. This new dependence, and the attendant vulnerability,
seriously undermined the nation-state’s control over the national economy and
reduced its scope for economic planning that could ensure some measure of
stability. At the same time, the fact that branch plants were subject to American
legislation meant that US foreign policy also dictated trading patterns in ways
which overrode Canadian sovereignty. For example, products which were
produced in Canada could not be traded with American enemies, even where
Canada maintained normal relations with these countries (Gray Report in
Rotstein & Lax 1972: 176-183).
As the consequences of this situation became increasingly apparent, Canada
responded with a brief flurry of economic nationalism. Under the Trudeau
government, efforts to reassert national control over the Canadian economy
were evidenced by developments like the formation of Petro-Canada (1975)
and the creation of the National Energy Program (1980). These efforts were
successful in reducing overall foreign ownership in Canada and by 1984
external control in petroleum and gas had declined to 39%, while comparative
figures for mining and manufacturing had dropped to 35% and 44%,
respectively (Watson 1988: 655). This response is a clear indication of both
government and popular recognition of the threat that multinational
corporations pose to economic sovereignty, and of a willingness to resist these
incursions. Yet, as processes of globalization have intensified, such resistance
has proven increasingly difficult to maintain.
This is particularly evident in debates surrounding the North American Free
Trade Agreement (NAFTA), and in the consequences which have ensued from
Canada’s entry into the agreement in 1988. The significance of the decision in
terms of sovereignty and cultural independence was not lost on Canadians and
much of the debate which was conducted between 1985 and 1988 explicitly
posited committed nationalists against equally fervent continentalists
(Bashevkin 1991). The fact that the nationalists lost is a measure of both the
increasing primacy of economic values (which has been a concomitant of
globalization in general), and of the power of hegemonic groups to determine
state policies in ways which reinforce their own perspectives and aspirations. In
the election which was to determine Canada’s position on Free Trade, the
popular vote for the two parties which opposed it (the Liberals and the New
Democratic Party) was significantly greater than that received by its main
advocate, the Conservatives.5 Despite this clear indication of popular opinion,
the Conservatives used their electoral “victory” as a mandate for proceeding
with NAFTA.
33
IJCS / RIÉC
Since then, the ongoing expansion of a North American free trade zone
suggests that Canada’s leaders have felt compelled to subordinate
considerations of national well-being, as a distinctive and autonomous entity,
to the pursuit of prosperity wherever it is to be found.6 In order to pursue this
path, the welfare state has been hurriedly scaled down and a crucial unifying
pillar of Canadian society has been profoundly weakened in the process. Thus,
where nationalism initially inspired the formation of economic infrastructures
geared to the needs of nation-states and their citizens, processes of
globalization have superimposed new infrastructures which are designed to
meet the needs of profit and which implicitly undermine national integration
and internal stability. As du Gay (1996: 159) suggests, the assumption that all
organizations are vulnerable to the effects of globalization has promoted the
view that there is no alternative to the universal adoption of business strategies.
A similar point is made by Agnew and Corbridge (1996: 196-205) in their
discussion of modern “market idolatry” as the governing force of virtually all
human interaction.
Given that the driving force of most processes of globalization has been the
desire to maximize profit, economic considerations have been instrumental in
dismantling other fundaments of the Canadian nation. In the realm of media,
the early goals of promoting a particular image of a distinctive Canadian nation
have been replaced a crude desire for market control and the attendant power to
preclude government attempts to alter this situation. By the 1980s, newspaper
publishing in Canada was dominated by the Southam and Thomson chains
which accounted for approximately 60% of English-language daily circulation
(Babe 1988: 1321; Lorimer and McNulty 1991: 183-217). The capacity of
these two companies to define and disseminate news (and to influence popular
opinion) is further enhanced by their control over the Canadian Press, an
organization which gathers (selects) information and distributes it to papers
across the country. Moreover, the motives and loyalties of these companies are
strongly influenced by additional economic activities. For example, Thomson
is a transnational corporation which is involved in wholesaling and retailing,
real estate, oil and gas exploration, insurance, travel and tourism, financial and
management services, high technology communications, transportation and
publishing, to name but a few of its economic activities (Babe 1988: 1321). To
companies like this, the direct economic value of media is important but it is
secondary to the capacity for control of media to direct public opinion, to sell
products, and to constantly reinforce the primacy of market forces and the quest
for profit.
Here again, the Canadian government has recognized the crucial role which
media play in constructing and maintaining the nation-state but, ultimately, it
has proven ineffectual in countering the trends of globalization (cf. Holmes &
Tarras 1992; Vipond 1989). Government concern about the concentration of
media was reflected in the establishment of a Senate Special Committee on
Mass Media in 1969-70 and of a Royal Commission on Newspapers in 198081. Both produced reports which highlighted increased concentration of
ownership, reduced competition and the amalgamation of media with other
types of business (Lorimer & McNulty 1991). Despite strong
recommendations in favour of stimulating competition, eroding monopolies
34
and reducing the editorial autonomy of owners, no government has been
willing to implement changes which challenge the power of media barons
(Kent 1992). Although government control over broadcasting has held out
longer than its influence in publishing, rapid changes in telecommunications
technology continue to reduce the significance of national borders as well as the
capacity to monitor or enforce them. Thus, where media once served the
interests of politicians and maintained a focus on national events, the
governments of nation-states are now held hostage by information “services”
whose overriding interest in national affairs is their impact on global
developments which are of economic significance.
In combination, the overpowering primacy of economic considerations and
rapid transitions in communications technologies have also influenced the last
bastions of nation-building: namely, education and cultural symbols. Although
education policy is one of the few areas where national (and provincial)
governments can retain considerable control, profit motives achieve indirect
influence through the production of textbooks and, increasingly, computerbased learning materials. When market forces are applied to the manufacture
and dissemination of such products, specialization—particularly for small
national markets—can easily be deemed inefficient. As national histories,
events and people are relegated to single chapters of otherwise uniform
textbooks, the capacity for education to stimulate knowledge of, and
attachment to, the nation will be reduced.
In terms of national symbols, it is perhaps developments in sporting events that
best illustrate the impact of globalization. For example, the “National” Hockey
League is now dominated by American teams. Broadcasting rights, advertising
revenue and the marketing of team merchandise, rather than game attendance
or team performance, dictates the success or failure of a franchise (cf. Kidd
1996). Here, as at other cultural events, the Canadian flag still flies, but more
often than not the American flag is also in evidence, and both were more likely
produced in places like Mexico or Taiwan than in Canada. Although
professional ice hockey teams have not yet been taken over by corporate
sponsors, the same cannot be said of most other cultural events in Canada. For
example, each event at the Calgary Stampede is now heralded by women on
horseback carrying flags which bear the logo of the sponsoring company, and
shute numbers have been grossly overshadowed by huge advertisements for
multinational companies. Where such activities once served to proclaim
Canadian distinctiveness and to generate national unity, they have become
showcases for Canada’s integration in, and subservience to, a global economy.
De(con)struction: The Impact of Fragmentation on the Canadian NationState
As the preceding discussion has demonstrated, processes of globalization have
undermined the effectiveness of all mechanisms which were initially used to
build the Canadian nation-state, and which have subsequently contributed to its
refinement. Although membership in formal supra-state organizations
continues to be based on nation-states, it nevertheless involves a relinquishing
of sovereign power to entities which operate above, or outside of, individual
countries. Whereas this redistribution of power has been at least partially
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voluntary on the part of nation-states, the same cannot be said of the impact of
multi- and trans-national corporations. These entities have actively
appropriated power from nation-states. The inability of individual countries to
alter this trend provides the most telling evidence of the capacity for processes
of globalization to undermine the position of nation-states in the post-war geopolitical order.
Crucially, the challenges which globalization pose to the survival of nationstates in their current form does not end here. The shift of political, economic
and cultural power away from the “national” sphere has taken the attention of
hegemonic groups with it. To remain competitive at a larger scale, some of
these groups have relinquished control over developments within the nationstate and/or cultivated new and innovative approaches to internal affairs (cf.
Mann 1996). In combination, these developments have loosened the
hegemonic grip on nation-building and opened-up new spaces for resisting the
established vision of what the Canadian nation-state is, or ought to be. It is these
new forces of resistance that are fragmenting the product of past attempts to
construct a unified Canada, and they are affecting both state structures and
conceptions of the associated nation.
In Canada, the most obvious example of fragmentation, which threatens the
political cohesiveness of the nation-state, is the resurgence of Québécois
nationalism since the 1960s (cf. Lacroix 1996). As I have argued elsewhere
(Penrose 1994), this movement challenges the legitimacy of the nation-state by
contending that Quebec constitutes a nation in its own right and therefore, by
the dictates of nationalism, is entitled to its own state. Increasing support for
this view is reflected in the difference between the 1980 referendum, which saw
41.8 percent of Quebecers vote in favour of moves toward sovereignty, and the
1995 referendum, where this figure rose to 49.4 percent.7 In both cases, the
federal government has responded by offering renewed negotiations of
Quebec’s demands for greater constitutional power. In recent years, such calls
for special treatment of Quebec have been echoed by other provinces, further
weakening the federal power structure central to original conceptions of
Canada. The combined pressures of internal demands for reform and external
demands for flexibility and competitiveness have devolved some
responsibilities to the provinces, but this has seldom been accompanied by a
parallel transfer of resources. Political fragmentation has also been manifested
in the recent spectacular rise of regional political parties in federal politics. One
could not ask for a better example than the fact that a separatist party—the Bloc
Québécois—obtained 54 seats in the election of October 1993 and served as the
“Loyal Opposition” to a Liberal government. In June 1997, this feat was
matched by the Reform Party (whose locus of power is in Western Canada),
when it won 60 seats and earned the right to form the opposition. The fact that
the Bloc Québécois retained 44 seats suggests that the new regional presence in
federal politics is not a fleeting aberration. When these developments are
combined with the relegation of the Conservatives (Canada’s “second”
original national party) to two seats in the Canadian Parliament in 1993 and to
20 seats in 1997, the evidence of processes of fragmentation at work, and of the
threat which they pose to the established political structure of the Canadian
state, becomes incontrovertible.
36
Recent political upheaval and associated shifts in power within the state have
also contributed to the fragmentation of the Canadian nation. As outlined
above, the long established vision of Canadians has been, sometimes explicitly
but always implicitly, a people of British descent who speak English, practice a
Christian faith and are “Caucasian” in appearance. Processes of globalization
have opened up spaces for active resistance to these ideals and assumptions,
manifested in internal fragmentation of the idealized Canadian nation. This is
particularly evident in the resurgence of alternative national and/or cultural
identities which were contained by other pre-occupations and/or suppressed by
nationalist attempts to promote cohesiveness and conformity within the
hegemonic vision of an English-speaking and White Canadian nation. As was
the case with challenges to the Canadian state, it was the rise of Québécois
nationalism that opened the flood gates to assertions of alternative identities.
Through nationalism, many French Canadians redefined themselves as
Québécois, rejected their connections with the established Canadian nation,
and asserted an identity that was linked with French heritage and language; not
that of Britain. At about the same time, Native Peoples began to argue that as the
original inhabitants of Canada they had a right to greater representation in
Canadian society. Unlike Québécois secessionists, they did not seek to leave
the Canadian Federation: instead, they demanded that conceptions of Canada
be expanded to include their diverse languages, cultures and traditions, as well
as their alternative views of spirituality and their “different” appearance.
Hegemonic groups in Canada tried to accommodate these claims by refining
their construction of the Canadian nation, sometimes in remarkably innovative
ways. For example, policies of bilingualism and biculturalism, attempted to
reintegrate French Canadians into the existing nation in ways which responded
to their concerns while also reasserting Canadian distinctiveness (Peter 1981:
59; Penrose 1994: 170). In McRoberts’ (1997) view, these initiatives sought to
eliminate the capacity for the separate presence of French-Canadians to qualify
prevailing constructions of the nation and can thus be seen as the triumph of the
nation-state ideal. Similarly, the selection of a national anthem constituted a
subtle coup of arrogation designed to appease internal division. Although the
origins of O Canada are not clear, there is evidence to suggest that it was
composed for the St-Jean Baptiste celebrations of 1880. In other words, it was
composed as part of French Canadian attempts to stimulate nationalist spirit
and to encourage the defense of their own linguistic and cultural heritage. By
appropriating French Canadian music, language and symbols, and
incorporating them into a larger Canadian identity, a base of resistance to a
unified Canadian identity was undermined but at some cost to the formal
preeminence of the hegemonic ideal. Ironically, the retention of some form of
unity simultaneously legitimized the internal fragmentation of identity.
This is particularly evident in the rise of multiculturalism. In retrospect, it is not
surprising that the hegemonic strategy of controlled appeasement did not result
in a new stability. Rather, it spawned a whole range of similar claims from other
groups in society which sought recognition of their own alternative identities;
identities which had been stilled by the prosperity associated with membership
in a national welfare state and quietly suppressed by the dominant view of the
Canadian nation. While a policy of bilingualism and biculturalism was,
37
IJCS / RIÉC
ostensibly, an adept way of placating nationalists in Quebec, its very
contemplation produced cracks elsewhere in the facade of a unified Canadian
nation, and the compromise of multiculturalism within a bilingual framework
was adopted instead (Penrose 1994: 171; Ujimoto 1991). Through this policy,
Canadian hegemons delicately balanced a formal acknowledgment of the
primacy of the French and English languages with an overt commitment to
accommodating a wide range of ethnic identities within (or alongside) a
Canadian identity. In effect, processes of fragmentation forced a redefinition of
the Canadian nation. Officially, at least, this primary grounding in British
traditions, the English language or the white “race” could no longer be
promoted with the same latitude as in the formative stages of nation-building.
This transformation in the formal construction of the Canadian nation was
equally apparent in changes to Canada’s immigration policy. To a considerable
extent, these changes can be directly related to a new commitment, among
hegemonic groups in Canada, to global capitalism and its privileging of market
forces over all other considerations. In this climate, the most important quality
of would-be immigrants to Canada was no longer their country of origin (read
“race”), their linguistic background, or their employment skills but, rather,
their potential for direct contributions to the Canadian economy. Although
carefully introduced under the guise of a seemingly neutral points system in
1967, there are clear indications that both this system and subsequent
immigration legislation (1984 & 1986) have “always massively favoured
business and entrepreneur class entrants” (Smith 1993: 61; cf. Segal 1990). As
Smith goes on to say, “immigration policy [in Canada] has harnessed the
practice of labour migration to the principles of the free market and to the ideals
of enterprise culture.” In the process, a long history of selectivity based on
compatibility with a cultural, linguistic and racial ideal has been replaced by
conformity to an economic profile.
Once again, this dramatic shift in priorities marks a parallel shift in hegemonic
attention; away from the national sphere and towards the international one.
Rather than seeking dominance within the nation-state as an end in its own
right, hegemonic groups are increasingly using national control as a stepping
stone to, and a source of leverage within, expanding spheres of global activity.
In keeping with the priorities of this international arena, economic
considerations are granted precedence over the cultural, linguistic and racial
parameters which were once central to the definition of the nation. As a
consequence, these dimensions of the nation are opened up to unprecedented
contestation and fragmentation.
Over time, this process has also affected the less visible aspects of the
established hegemonic vision of Canada. Since the 1960s, the women’s
movement has sought to reveal and subvert deeply entrenched sentiments of
patriarchy and their institutional manifestations. Similarly, the emergence of
gay rights activism has challenged the deep-seeded assumption that Canadians
are universally heterosexual. In doing so, such activism has actively disrupted
the tacit agreement, that where homosexuality does exist, the nation would be
better served by not mentioning it. Like other previously marginalized groups,
women and homosexuals have become increasingly verbal in advancing their
38
claims to legitimate a space within the Canadian nation. The pervasiveness of
this challenge to the hegemonic construct is evident in a number of ways, but
the most telling is probably their growing, and increasingly public, contribution
to the Canadian Armed Forces, once a bastion of the national hegemonic order.
When the ultimate agent of state power has been infiltrated by people who do
not fit the hegemonic ideal of the nation, it is clear that established power bases
have been undermined along with their self-reinforcing illusions of uniformity.
Destruction or Reconstruction
Changes in the armed forces, and in other state institutions designed to protect
and legitimize the nation-state, actively reflect the inaccuracy and disrupted
relevance of the hegemonic vision of the Canadian nation which has been
promoted since the British conquest. Canada continues to be unified by
patriotism and associated loyalties to the country but, increasingly, this is set
within a context of internal diversity and parallel commitments to identities
other than a national one. In many ways, these new manifestations of diversity
reflect the gradual deconstruction of the Canadian nation-state, and they may
well be portenteous of more universal challenges to this fundamental unit of
geo-political organization. In Canada, as elsewhere, the hegemonic response to
these changes will constitute a choice which promotes either the destruction of
the state—in the wake of the nation’s dissolution—or the reconstruction of an
alternative state form which is better attuned and more responsive to evolving
circumstances, both internally and in the global sphere. If internal diversity is
ignored and efforts to impose a falsely unified cultural construct are renewed,
fragmentation is likely to intensify in ways which undermine remaining
national loyalties. This, in turn, will reduce the ability of existing states to deal
effectively with the mounting pressures and challenges of globalization. In
contrast, if internal diversity is recognized, there is potential for reconstructing
states in ways which acknowledge lived realities, needs and aspirations
through the active accommodation of difference.
These choices make it clear that processes of both globalization and
fragmentation pose threats to nation-states because they highlight the innate
dysfunctionality of the very concept of nation. Crucially, this is not the same as
a challenge to the concept of state. Even a cursory review of the ideology of
nationalism, and the Enlightenment context in which it was devised, reminds us
that the quest for representative government was the driving force behind
change and that the concept of nation was developed and promoted as a means
of mobilizing popular support for new political forms and practices (cf.
Habermas 1996). Initially, the concept of nation was essential to the
legitimization of what were profound political changes. However, the
subsequent acceptance of the desirability of civil society, citizenship and
democracy as political ideals means that this source of legitimacy is no longer
required. Indeed, the current irony is that nationalism has now become one of
the most prominent threats to the stability of democratic civil society, both
where it exists and where it has yet to be established.
What this suggests is not a total abandonment of the concept of nation; it has
clearly acquired too much salience and personal value for this to be possible in
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IJCS / RIÉC
the foreseeable future (Smith 1995). Instead, the links which nationalism has
established between the existence of a nation and a right to power need to be
severed. At the same time, a new ideology of state legitimacy—something
which might be called “civicism”—must actively promote the links between
the existence of a shared political culture (or civil society) and a right to power.
This reconceptualisation of the basis of state legitimacy will require two
changes from hegemonic groups within states. First, these groups will have to
recognize internal diversity and relinquish their power to define the nation.
Habermas expresses this imperative as follows:
If ... different cultural, ethnic and religious subcultures are to coexist
and interact on equal terms within the same political community, the
majority culture must give up its historical prerogative to define the
official terms of that generalized political culture, which is to be
shared by all citizens, regardless of where they come from and how
they live. The majority culture must be decoupled from a political
culture all can be expected to join. The level of the shared political
culture must be strictly separated from the level of subcultures and
prepolitical identities (including that of the majority) which deserve
equal protection only once they conform to constitutional principles
(as interpreted in this particular political culture). (1996: 289)
In addition to abandoning the notion of a singular nation as the basis of political
legitimacy, hegemonic groups will also have to alter their conception of power.
Rather than viewing power as a fixed sum which must be protected constantly
from appropriation, the world, and various units within it, would be better
served by recognizing and acting upon the capacity for power to grow through
sharing (cf. Hall 1994: xi). Societal energies are much more likely to be
activated by, and effective in, an atmosphere of compromise and co-operative
consent than through coercion and the resistance which it inspires.
Inevitably, these assertions of necessary changes beg the question of why those
in power should accept them, let alone work toward their implementation. The
simple answer is that it is in their own interests to do so. The changes outlined
above are essential to the survival of states, and systems of states, which can
best guarantee the stability of the geo-political order and can provide an
infrastructure for mediating global interactions. Both this infrastructure and the
stability which it provides are indispensable to the forces (largely of capitalism)
which currently dominate the world order. As long as states were the main locus
of economic power, control within them was defended assiduously. However,
as ascendancy increasingly takes on a global dimension, those in positions of
power may find it advantageous to relinquish, or at least share, internal control.
Under this alternative scenario, the primary function of states would be to
promote and administer the expansion of a unifying political culture. Rather
than enforcing national unity, it would seek to inspire loyalty in a different
form. By facilitating the equitable distribution of resources and by providing an
institutional framework which safeguards rights to individual opportunity and
self-fulfillment in a variety of ways, the “civic” state could provide a context for
the development of multiple sources of identity rather than conflicts over the
primacy of a singular one. In the process, states would be protecting things that
their citizens clearly value and, in doing so, would likely reinforce their own
40
relevance and worth. In other words, the best way of guaranteeing continued
state power involves mobilizing new bases of popular support by actively
facilitating the development of new political cultures which are devoid of
cultural hierarchies.
As this suggests, the cumulative impact of processes of globalization and
fragmentation have precipitated real challenges to nation-states but they have
also opened up new spaces of resistance to some of the most negative
consequences of ongoing geo-political change. If these processes can alter
views about power and the function of states—particularly the notion that state
legitimacy rests on the maintenance of a singular nation defined by specific
attributes of culture, language, race, gender and sexuality—then energies will
no longer be wasted on internal conflict about what this singular nation ought to
be. Instead, guarantees of the mutual protection of all “pre-political” cultures
will allow the redirection of energy toward co-operative improvements of
internal state structures and policies in ways which make states more
responsive to the needs of their citizens and to the exigencies of the global
situation.
While all states will have to address these issues according to contextual
specificities, Canada may be especially well placed to reconstruct itself as a
general model of the new “civic” state. There are three main dimensions of
Canadian state- and nation-building experience which support this view, and
each offers possibilities for political restructuring along the lines outlined
above. The first of these qualities is Canada’s federal state structure. Although
the adoption of this structure was seen as an unfortunate but necessary
compromise in the early phases of state-building, Canada now has a long
experience of power-sharing and infrastructures for extending this practice.
For most of Canada’s history, the division of power between federal and
provincial governments has effectively assuaged threats of state disintegration
and added a valuable dimension to the extension of participatory democracy.
Here, it is salutary to remember that the upsurge of support for secessionism in
Quebec is a relatively recent phenomenon that coincides with growing
manifestations of the cumulative impacts of globalization. Indeed, one could
argue that the federal system permitted the gradual development of distinctive
Québécois culture in the past, and that a greater willingness to share power
could have defused much of the conflict which currently characterizes relations
between Quebec and other parts of the country.
Under a system where the existence of a distinctive nation is no longer
considered a useful or valid basis for claiming a right to statehood, this source of
disunity would be disempowered and considerable energies could be freed-up
for co-operative improvement of civil society and the extension of human and
social rights. This view is reinforced by the fact that internal resistance to the
secession of Quebec from Canada is grounded in a recognition of the benefits of
being part of the larger whole. Many inhabitants of Quebec clearly feel that an
acceptance of the Québécois as a distinct society within Canada offers the best
cultural protection in English-dominated North America. In addition, many
residents of Quebec also seem to feel that membership in a larger political
culture offers sound guarantees of a whole range of civic rights as well as
41
IJCS / RIÉC
economic advantages. If these sentiments can survive in conditions of
hegemonic control over the definition of a singular nation and of general
political culture, it seems reasonable to assume that such views can flourish
where this control has been relinquished.
The second quality of Canadian state- and nation-building experience which
could serve it well in the transition to a civic state revolves around the expansion
of the political spectrum at the federal level. Recent experiences involving the
emergence of new political parties, even those with narrow agendas and
concentrated regional support, demonstrate that such changes do not constitute
an implicit threat to state survival. There can be few greater challenges than
having a secessionist party (the Bloc Québécois) form the official government
opposition, and yet Canada did not crumble when this situation prevailed.
Instead, this experience lends support to the contention that power-sharing and
consensual co-operation can be effective ways of identifying common ground
and addressing (if not always resolving) conflict. Where individuals and
groups are actively incorporated into the political process, they are much less
likely to sabotage it or to undermine its relevance through apathy.
Third, despite hegemonic efforts to impose the kind of cultural uniformity
required by nationalist ideology, Canada has a very long history of exceptional
human diversity. The country’s development as an immigrant society means
that it is already as heterogeneous as most states are ever likely to become. This
history means that Canada also has invaluable experience of living with
pluralism. Until now, accommodation of cultural difference has meant that
groups and individuals which differed from the hegemonic norm have had to
adjust to a “national” and political culture over which they had very little
influence. Since the 1970s, the adoption of multiculturalism and changes in
immigration policy have brought about a shift away from the outright rejection
or the benign neglect of cultural difference. Yet this has not made ethnic groups
equal partners in the definition and practice of Canada’s general political
culture. Even under these circumstances, the experiences of marginalized
Canadians reveal two important qualities of life in plural societies. First, they
demonstrate that cultural differences can survive, and that allegiance to these
cultures can be maintained alongside the culture which has been promoted as
representative of the nation-state. This, in turn, suggests that cultural group
membership has values that extend beyond those of economic advancement or
political leverage. These values constitute an important counterweight to the
economic values which seem to be gaining ascendancy with intensifying
globalization. Accordingly, if the state can recognize and protect these values
then it, in turn, is likely to evoke the recognition and protection of its citizens.
In addition, the experiences associated with the extreme heterogeneity of
Canada’s largest cities also offer two salutary lessons for increasingly pluralist
states. First of all, residents of these areas are gradually learning that racism and
other forms of marginalization have huge costs in terms of security and social
tension. At the same time, personal experiences of living with people who come
from different cultural backgrounds have helped to break down barriers of fear
and intolerance. Many people are learning that pluralism need not interfere
with the day-to-day pursuit of one’s own lifestyle; indeed, they are starting to
42
experience the potential for diversity to enrich the quality of life. If these
insights can develop under conditions of hegemonic control over political
culture, there is every reason to expect that such trends will deepen when such
control is relinquished.
In combination, the relative effectiveness of a federal state structure, including
its capacity to accommodate cultural difference as well as a much broader range
of political voices, point to additional ways of implementing the transition from
nation-state to civic-state. First of all, federal institutions of government and
administration can be restructured in ways which reduce hegemonic control
over shared political culture. Although the wide range of proposals for
Canadian constitutional reform are far too complex to analyse here, an
evaluation of their capacity to effect this change could help to clarify the
options open to Canada. In other words, proposals which are premised on, or
which contribute to, the promotion of a singular nation at the expense of both
other cultural allegiances and loyalty to an encompassing civil society should
be dismissed as inappropriate to changing circumstances at all geographical
scales. In contrast, reforms which enhance the ability of diverse groups to
contribute to the evolution of general political culture should be supported as
the most effective means of promoting a vibrant and relevant political structure.
For example, the senate could be transformed into an elected body, comprised
not of representatives of “national” political parties, but of independent
members who become candidates on the basis of their knowledge and
experience of specific issues at local, provincial, state and/or international
levels. This would make room for compromise solutions to shared problems
and introduce the possibility of forming temporary constituencies which have
the flexibility to respond to particular issues without the restrictions (and
prescriptions) of formal political alliances (cf. Brah 1992; Fuss 1989).
As this suggests, a second development—and one which complements the
federal political structure—could be a broad reconceptualization of the goals of
representation and of the election systems which provide it. Although statewide political parties may be necessary at the federal level to ensure continuity
and cohesiveness this could be tempered by new election systems which
combine formal party lists, elected proportionally by all voters, with district
lists of unaffiliated candidates who are elected to represent local areas. The
elimination of formal political parties at the provincial and municipal levels
would also help to break down established hierarchies and their selfperpetuating systems of patronage and hegemonic exclusivity. In the process,
these kinds of changes would open up the political spectrum and encourage the
political participation of a much broader cross-section of Canadian society.
Such changes would also disrupt established notions of government and
opposition. Instead of being structurally formalized according to the relative
strength of parties, all elected representatives would form the government and
opposition would become a shifting entity which varied in composition
according to issue-specific debates. Under this kind of system, each individual
representative has both the capacity and the responsibility to make a pro-active
contribution to the development of general political culture through the
formation of flexible political alliances and through the associated refinement
of skills in constructive negotiation, compromise and consensus- building.
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IJCS / RIÉC
Finally, by altering internal perceptions and expectations of the state, and by
shifting the basis of state legitimacy away from the existence of a singular
nation and toward the presence of a representative political culture, civic-states
are granted a third source of relevance to the prevailing geo-political situation.
This is the potential for new alliances which develop within states to generate
parallel global constituencies. This possibility is a source of hope because
resistance at the global scale may be the only way of developing effective
opposition to the current preeminence of economic goals and values. Canadian
experience provides cautious support for this possibility because internal
fragmentation has already permitted the development of political movements
which promote issues and identities of global relevance, while still managing to
co-exist with a de-centered national identity. Examples of this kind of
development include the feminist movement, peace and anti-nuclear
associations, human and, more specifically, gay rights activism, as well as
green and/or environmental organizations. As Beck (1992) has argued, issues
of nuclear threat and environmental degradation promote globalization in
realms which are not explicitly economic because the risks that they involve are
universal and equalizing and, therefore, they require cooperative attention on a
global scale. These interests are ones which have an international relevance
which is easily identifiable but, as conceptions of the state change— both
internally and in terms of their external geo-political role—issues which are
currently seen as exclusively “national” may acquire global significance as
well. Eventually, this may even extend to conceptions of sovereignty and
representation but, as Agnew suggests, until this happens, states are likely to
retain their attraction as guarantors of security (1997: 322; cf. Smith 1991:
chapter 7, and 1995).
As these examples suggest, processes of globalization may, however
unwittingly, bring with them the means of resisting some of their negative
consequences. The cumulative impact of ongoing processes of globalization
has undermined the cohesiveness of nation-states from outside, while
encouraging processes of fragmentation which have brought similar disruption
from within. However, this fragmentation does not refer to intrinsic qualities of
chaos. Instead, the processes and consequences of fragmentation are seen as
chaotic primarily because they are viewed in terms of their impact on nationstates. If fragmentation is viewed from a broader perspective, it becomes a
potential means of de-centering the nation-state and countering the limitations
which this geo-political entity has come to impose on the abilities of both
societies and individuals to adjust to contemporary experiences of global
integration. Where nationalism was once a mechanism for enhancing this
adjustment, it has become a liability. Ironically, the internal fragmentation
which is currently being experienced by nation-states may be the key to a proactive reconstruction of states in ways which allow them to serve the current
needs of all of the people they were initially designed to represent.
Conclusion
The preceding pages have attempted to advance four main points. First,
processes of globalization are not intrinsically new. Although their current
manifestations reflect remarkable transformations in technology and
44
communications, the general move toward integration is part of a long
established trend in human relations. Second, the mechanisms which were
deployed in the construction of nation-states have been seriously undermined
by processes of globalization. Third, processes of globalization, and their
impacts, cannot be fully understood without reference to attendant processes of
fragmentation. Where the spatial selectivity of processes of globalization
marginalizes some regions and their people altogether, the power of these
processes and of the people who promote them has generated fear and a sense of
helplessness which is only gradually being transformed into pockets of
resistance. Globalization opens up new spaces of resistance to hegemonic
orders and this resistance is manifested in a variety of forms of fragmentation.
This leads to the fourth main point, which is the assertion that recent interest in
globalization is a direct result of its visible impacts on the power and functions
of nation-states. By threatening the fundamental unit of geo-political
organization, and a primary generator of human identity, the impacts of
processes of globalization and fragmentation have become personalized.
When individuals see the actions of their political leaders constrained by suprastate restrictions or by contradictory internal demands, their personal sense of
stability and the basis of much of their sense of belonging is undermined.
To advance these four arguments, the paper has placed current processes of
globalization in historical context and highlighted the role of the
Enlightenment ideology of nationalism in the conceptualization of nationstates as structures for mediating ongoing global integration. By first outlining
the mechanisms which were employed in the construction of nation-states, and
then showing how subsequent processes of globalization have undermined
their efficacy, the paper has provided empirical evidence of growing
challenges to the post-Enlightenment primacy of these geo-political units. In
particular, the paper has emphasized the capacity for globalization to open-up
new spaces of resistance to hegemonic visions of specific nations, and for this to
engender internal fragmentation.
Until recently, the weakening of state structures from outside has created new
spaces of resistance which have been primarily directed against internal
hegemonic power bases. In other words, despite challenges to it, the nationstate continues to mediate processes of global integration and to bear the brunt
of its internal consequences. Ultimately, this tendency has served the
promoters and beneficiaries of globalization well because it detracts attention
from the international stage. Instead of resisting the international sources of
growing impotence and instability, most people have clung to the increasingly
dysfunctional entity of the nation-state. This preoccupation with a
redistribution of power and resources within nation-states has left international
operators free of both responsibility and accountability, and the causes of
national instability and increasing inequality have gained momentum as they
continue to be overlooked. In other words, people have persisted in fighting for
a redefinition of the nation in ways which will improve their positions within it
but, in the process, they have generally failed to recognize that the power and
relevance of the nation is in decline.
45
IJCS / RIÉC
As this paper has argued, this pattern would be a cause for considerable despair if
it did not hold within it the seeds of an alternative course of action. If nation-states
can respond to internal fragmentation by allowing the nation to be defined by
multiple identities instead of a singular and hegemonically imposed one, internal
conflict may give way to more tolerant co-existence. Once people within a state
stop fighting among themselves, they may begin to see the potential value of
working together to develop a flexible and representative political culture as the
best guarantor of both their individual rights and responsibilities as well as those
of the communities with which they interact. This, in turn, has the capacity to
promote the formation of international alliances which can counter the
preeminence of emerging global hegemonies and the crude economic values
which they promote at the expense of all other measures of worth. Recent
developments in Canada suggest that this country is well-placed to contribute to
the implementation of these ideas. Canadians have begun to accept that diversity
has always been one of Canada’s fundamental qualities and they are
experimenting with ways of incorporating this into a revised definition of the
state. If this process can be reconceptualized as a positive means of responding to
contemporary geo-political realities, instead of an unfortunate necessity, Canada
can make an invaluable contribution to a new internationalism which is firmly
grounded in humanitarian ideals.
Acknowledgements
I would like to thank Sue Smith and two anonymous referees for their helpful comments on
an earlier draft of this paper; and Cindi Holt, Leslie McCullough and Wendy Rhodes for the
quiet working space, computer access and many cups of tea which they provided while I was
revising this paper away from home.
Notes
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
46
The desire to develop a national economy was bound-up with the quest for representative
government because the emerging merchant class required expanded political power to
achieve its economic goals. These economic motivations behind nation-state construction
should not be underestimated but given that they are already the subject of considerable
scholarship (e.g. Anderson 1983, Gellner 1983; Hall 1994; Hobsbawn 1992) and that they are
not addressed directly by Hayes, these aspects of the argument will not be developed at length
here.
Figures which these authors provide indicate that the number of international NGOs
increased from 176 in 1905; to 832 in 1951; to 2,713 in 1972; and to 4,649 in 1986.
This general discussion of globalization and fragmentation draws on Penrose 1995a: 193-94
and Penrose 1995b: 18-19.
For a critique of the notion that processes of globalization and fragmentation are inherently
contradictory, see Penrose 1995b: 16-17.
Here, it is interesting to note that attitudes to free trade also reveal a “gender gap” in that
women were consistently less supportive of economic integration than were men
(Bashevkin 1991: 144).
Since the NAFTA was first established in 1988, Mexico has become a signatory and Chile is
currently in the process of trying to achieve membership as well (see, Canada Focus, vol. 5,
no. 12, 11 April 1997)
While the importance of these figures should not be underestimated, it is also important to
acknowledge that some of the apparent growth in support for secession may be a product of
the significant emigration of those who opposed this position. Moreover, we should not lose
sight of the fact that these results continue to demonstrate that a substantial proportion of
Quebec’s inhabitants hold an allegiance to the Canadian nation-state which overrides their
loyalties to Quebec.
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49
Alain-G. Gagnon et François Rocher
Nationalisme libéral et construction
multinationale : la représentation de la
« nation » dans la dynamique Québec-Canada*
Résumé
Cet article examine le rapport qui existe entre l’acceptation de la diversité
culturelle et économique et la stabilité politique. Nous soutenons que le
Canada aurait tout à gagner à redécouvrir le fait qu’il s’agit d’une fédération
qui, dès sa création, a tenté de concilier l’existence de nations au sein d’une
entité politique plus large. Nous examinons la dynamique Québec/Canada en
nous demandant d’abord de quelle manière peut-on conjuger le nationalisme
et la modernité? Par la suite, nous voyons comment le projet politique mis de
l’avant par l’État fédéral canadien a cherché à oblitérer la diversité profonde
qui caractérise l’espace socio-politique canadien. Cette réalité grève les
relations entre les différentes composantes nationales et nous avançons que
seule une politique de reconnaissance peut lever cette hypothèque.
Finalement, nous soutenons que la transformation du Canada en un État
multinational constitue l’une des voies à suivre pour atténuer l’état de crise
politique permanente qui le caractérise et qui lui permet de s’inscrire dans la
modernité.
Abstract
This article examines how cultural and economic diversity relate to political
stability. We argue that Canada has every advantage in rediscovering the fact
that the country is a federation which endeavoured from its inception to
reconcile the existence of different national groups within a broader political
entity. We will first examine the Quebec/Canada dynamic by investigating
how nationalism can combine with modernity. We will then explore how the
political plan devised by the Canadian federal government tried to obliterate
the profound diversity that characterizes the Canadian social and political
landscape. This reality mortgages the relationships among the various
national components and, in our view, nothing short of a policy of recognition
can remedy this situation. Lastly, we maintain that Canada’s transformation
into a multinational state is one possible means of alleviating the country’s
state of perpetual political crisis and ushering it into modernity.
Les problèmes de coexistence entre les différentes entités nationales rencontrés
dans les Balkans ou au Proche- et Moyen-Orient aussi bien que dans les
démocraties libérales comme l’Espagne, la Grande-Bretagne, la Belgique, la
France et le Canada, pour ne nommer que celles-là, appellent une réflexion plus
poussée sur les conditions qui permettent la mise en place d’un espace où les
délibérations politiques peuvent être respectueuses de la diversité (Fishkin,
IJCS / RIÉC
1991). Ainsi, les notions de pluralisme culturel, de diversité et de nationalisme
libéral constituent des outils conceptuels nécessaires à une gestion pacifique
des conflits dans les démocraties modernes. L’adoption d’une telle approche
analytique permet de réévaluer l’avenir de l’État-nation et de saisir les
implications politiques de la constante ascension de courants
d’homogénéisation que l’on y retrouve.
Cet article vise à remettre en question l’argument d’Ernest Gellner selon lequel
l’uniformité linguistique et culturelle est essentielle au bon fonctionnement de
l’État moderne (Gellner, 1981 : 140-141). On peut au contraire soutenir que le
Canada, à l’instar des pays qui rencontrent le même type de défi, n’a pas besoin
d’uniformité culturelle ou de pratiques économiques homogénéisantes pour
garantir sa stabilité politique. Ce sont plutôt ces tendances qui exacerbent les
tensions entre les différentes entités nationales et qui peuvent les pousser
jusqu’au point de rupture. Dans cette perspective, le Canada aurait tout à gagner
à redécouvrir un aspect constitutif central mais trop souvent oublié ou négligé, à
savoir qu’il s’agit d’une fédération qui, dès sa création, a tenté de concilier
l’existence de nations au sein d’une entité politique plus large1. Il s’agira donc
d’examiner la dynamique Québec/Canada en se demandant d’abord de quelle
manière on peut conjuguer nationalisme et modernité. Par la suite, nous verrons
comment le projet politique mis de l’avant par l’État fédéral canadien a cherché
à oblitérer la diversité profonde qui caractérise l’espace sociopolitique
canadien. Cette réalité grève les relations entre les différentes composantes
nationales, et nous avançons que seule une politique de reconnaissance peut
lever cette hypothèque. Finalement, nous soutenons que la transformation du
Canada en un État multinational, à la fois dans l’idée que certains intellectuels
et qu’un grand nombre de leaders politiques s’en font et dans son mode de
fonctionnement, constitue l’une des voies à suivre pour atténuer l’état de crise
politique permanente qui le caractérise et qui lui permet de s’inscrire dans la
modernité.
Du nationalisme et de la modernité
Le nationalisme est devenu la façon par laquelle s’expriment le plus souvent les
revendications d’autonomie politique et d’autodétermination dans le monde
moderne. Il est significatif que, sur des territoires aussi différents que le Canada
et l’Asie de l’Est, par exemple, le nationalisme ait incarné au même moment la
lutte contre une vision dominatrice de l’État imposée par des institutions
centrales et une tentative de mise en place de pratiques démocratiques
(Calhoun, 1993)2.
Alors que l’on aurait pu croire que la modernisation politique, sociale et
économique du Québec, ayant pris son essor au cours de la Révolution
tranquille dans les années 1960, entraînerait une atténuation du sentiment
d’identification particulariste fondé sur la nation, il n’en fut rien3. Les réformes
étatiques adoptées depuis lors ont plutôt contribué à modifier le discours
nationaliste et à lui donner un nouvel essor marqué notamment par son
adaptation aux principes du libéralisme démocratique. Sur plusieurs questions,
le Québec est souvent perçu comme un chef de file dans plusieurs parties du
pays. L’adoption par l’Assemblée nationale du Québec de la Charte québécoise
52
Nationalisme libéral et construction multinationale
des droits et libertés de la personne, en 1975, en constitue un bon exemple. La
Charte canadienne des droits et libertés de 1982 reprend de larges pans de la
charte québécoise (Gagnon, 1994). Il faut cependant noter que la Charte
canadienne s’inscrit dans la poursuite du processus d’homogénéisation qui
caractérise le Canada des trente dernières années, notamment au chapitre fort
litigieux de l’aménagement linguistique partout au Canada, et qui a conduit à la
mobilisation de forces politiques au Québec.
L’expression dominante du nationalisme au Québec est moderne dans son
essence, puisque les principales revendications de droits politiques reposent à
la fois sur son existence en tant que nation et sur des pratiques et traditions
démocratiques bien ancrées (Latouche, 1993; Balthazar, 1993). Ainsi,
l’approche particulariste qui fonde le discours nationaliste n’est pas
incompatible avec son inscription dans des valeurs universelles. Les multiples
crises existentielles qu’a traversées le Canada proviennent d’une
incompréhension de cette dynamique. Au nom des valeurs universelles, les
pratiques fédérales au Canada ont cherché à nier, sinon éradiquer, toute
référence au particularisme québécois. Là se trouve la source du problème.
Pour trouver la solution de l’énigme canadienne — ou du moins, pour tenter de
la saisir — il faut absolument dénouer les concepts de nation et d’État-nation.
Le concept d’État se rattache à une entité politique et juridique mieux connue
sous le nom de « pays ». Le concept de nation, en revanche, représente une
entité socioculturelle dont les frontières ne correspondent pas toujours aux
frontières étatiques. Selon Walker Connor, une telle confusion dans les termes
proviendrait du fait que les termes État et nation aient été utilisés de manière
interchangeable pour désigner l’expression État-nation. Or, cette dernière
expression montrait bien qu’il existait une différence de nature entre les
composantes « étatiques » et « nationales ». Elle visait à décrire une situation où
une nation pouvait compter sur son propre État. La distinction originale s’est
graduellement évaporée, ne laissant place qu’à l’acception État-nation qui
désigne sans distinction tous les États (Connor, 1994 : 94-95). Pour sa part,
Hugh Seton-Watson a clairement établi la distinction entre nation et État : il
soutient qu’on ne devrait pas assimiler la notion d’État au concept de nation,
étant donné qu’il est clair que l’État correspond à une entité politique juridique,
alors que la nation est une communauté politique liée par un sentiment de mise
en commun et d’identité4.
La distinction ci-dessus est celle que l’on peut faire entre une nation politique et
une nation culturelle, distinction dérivée de la taxonomie de Friedrich
Meinecke, où l’on parle de Kulturnation et de Staatsnation5. Dans une nation
politique, nationalité et citoyenneté sont synonymes, alors que dans la nation
culturelle, l’État (ou toute autre institution politique) est jugé non nécessaire,
voire non pertinent. La France ou les États-Unis sont des exemples idéaux de
nations politiques, alors que la distinction entre nation et État est floue au point
qu’on peut souvent dire qu’il y a convergence totale. L’Italie « fédérale » et
plusieurs contrées d’Europe centrale et de l’Est constituent à l’inverse des
exemples typiques de la pérennité des nations dites culturelles. La nation, à la
source du nationalisme, découle avant tout d’un vouloir vivre collectif, d’un
53
IJCS / RIÉC
sentiment d’identité et du consentement de tous. Comme le proposait Ernest
Renan :
Une nation est une âme, un principe spirituel. Deux choses qui, à vrai
dire, n’en font qu’une, constituent cette âme, ce principe spirituel. [...]
L’une est la possession en commun d’un riche legs de souvenirs;
l’autre est le consentement actuel, le désir de vivre ensemble, la
volonté de continuer à faire valoir l’héritage qu’on a reçu indivis. [...]
L’existence d’une nation est [...] un plébiscite de tous les jours. (1882 :
26)
Par ailleurs, pour Peter Alters, le nationalisme libéral, ou « nationalisme du
Risorgimento », doit être perçu essentiellement comme un mouvement de
protestation qui s’oppose à un système marqué par une domination politique
réelle, à un État qui détruit les traditions de la nation et en empêche le
développement. Parce que liberté individuelle et indépendance nationale sont
étroitement imbriquées, l’accent est mis sur le droit aussi bien de la nation que
de chacun de ses membres d’en appeler au principe du développement
autonome (Alters, 1989 : 29). Dans cette perspective, il est possible de
conjuguer le nationalisme libéral et les valeurs humaines d’égalité, de fraternité
et de liberté.
Le concept de nationalisme du Risorgimento, ou de nationalisme libéral, a
refait son entrée dans le domaine politique. Par exemple, Yael Tamir,
s’inspirant des travaux de Herder et de Mazzini, développe une vision selon
laquelle autonomie personnelle et appartenance à une communauté sont des
alliées naturelles. De tels « concepts sont ici perçus comme des idées
complémentaires plutôt qu’opposées, ce qui impliquerait qu’un individu ne
peut exister libre de tout contexte, mais que tous peuvent être libres à l’intérieur
d’un même contexte. » (1993 : 14)
En somme, le nationalisme s’inscrivant dans la tradition libérale constitue
indubitablement un phénomène moderne6 et un outil qui peut servir aux
communautés politiques désireuses d’établir des relations justes. Au Canada
anglais, les concepts de nation et d’État/État-nation sont employés de façon
interchangeable, fondus l’un dans l’autre pour décrire une même réalité
politique. Cette fusion serait un signe de modernité : elle serait une prémisse des
fondations d’une nouvelle identité canadienne supérieure à celle de ses parties,
dont le Québec mais aussi les nations autochtones, et qui n’en tiendrait pas
compte (Dumont, 1995 : 31-48). Évidemment, le nationalisme Canadian est
une réalité éminemment complexe que l’on ne saurait réduire à la seule
adhésion à un patriotisme de type constitutionnel, ce dernier ayant lui aussi
produit ses propres contradictions (Rocher et Smith, 1997). Néanmoins, force
est de constater que les politiques introduites par le gouvernement fédéral à
compter de la fin des années 1960 (bilinguisme, multiculturalisme, protection
constitutionnelle des droits individuels) et qui s’inscrivaient dans le processus
inachevé de nation-building, ont eu pour effet d’atténuer la pertinence des
principes du fédéralisme dans le mode d’identification des citoyens.
L’attachement au Canada est réel mais en même temps il subsume les autres
allégeances de plus en plus multiples, contradictoires et politisées, allégeances
qui n’ont peu ou pas d’ancrage territorial. Cela étant, les références aux
54
principes mêmes du fédéralisme, compris comme un modèle de gestion de la
différence fondé sur la coopération des ordres de gouvernement mais aussi sur
le respect de l’autonomie de chacun dans les champs qui sont les leurs,
deviennent de moins en moins pertinentes. Complètement à l’opposé, on
trouve une vaste majorité de Québécois, qui tendent à promouvoir une vision
d’eux-mêmes très différente, tirée d’une part de l’héritage girondin et, d’autre
part, d’influences nationalistes libérales qui s’implantent rapidement et sont
même devenues une partie intégrante du discours politique dominant.
Le cas canadien : de la quête d’uniformité
À la suite de l’échec de l’Accord du lac Meech, le gouvernement du Québec
mettait sur pied la Commission sur l’avenir politique et constitutionnel du
Québec (Gagnon et Latouche, 1991; Rocher, 1992a). Le problème
fondamental qui affecte le fédéralisme canadien fut résumé en peu de mots par
les rédacteurs du rapport de cette commission :
En théorie, l’union fédérale canadienne aurait pu toujours évoluer sur
le plan constitutionnel et politique en respectant à la fois les
aspirations des Québécoises et Québécois et celles des autres
Canadiennes et Canadiens. En pratique, la conception générale du
Canada et du régime fédéral qui prédomine aujourd’hui apparaît
rigide et nettement orientée vers la recherche de l’uniformité et la
négation des différences. Le renouvellement de la fédération
canadienne, dans la reconnaissance et le respect des différences et des
besoins du Québec, passerait nécessairement par une remise en cause
en profondeur de l’ordre des choses au Canada. (1990 : 54)
L’échec de la reconnaissance du Québec comme société distincte constitue un
rejet de la « diversité profonde » ou, si l’on préfère, d’un communitarisme
libéral du type défini par le philosophe politique Charles Taylor. Selon ce
dernier, l’adoption d’un modèle uniforme menace la survie du Canada. Il invite
plutôt à « explorer l’univers de la diversité profonde » au sein duquel serait
reconnue et acceptée une pluralité de modes d’appartenance7. En effet, le
problème principal tient moins dans le fait que le Canada n’ait pas été
« profitable » au Québec d’un point de vue strictement comptable (transferts de
paiements, péréquation, présence des Québécois francophones dans la
fonction publique fédérale, etc.), bien que sur cette question les interprétations
varient (Rocher, 1992b), mais plutôt du fait que le Canada ait continuellement
refusé d’entériner la thèse selon laquelle le Canada était constitué de nations
fondatrices dont la composante minoritaire devrait disposer de moyens lui
permettant d’assurer son avenir social, économique et culturel en des termes
qui pourraient différer de ceux du reste du Canada. Afin de contrer le
nationalisme québécois, le gouvernement fédéral a plutôt cherché à imposer un
patriotisme canadien peu sensible aux différences. Le modèle de la diversité
profonde implique au contraire l’acceptation d’une citoyenneté multiforme qui
permet la coexistence de sentiments d’appartenance se situant à mi-chemin
entre l’individu et l’État (au niveau de la Kulturnation ), au lieu d’exiger un
sentiment d’appartenance exclusif à l’endroit du régime politique confondu
avec ce que plusieurs appellent la « nation canadienne » (la Staatsnation ). En ce
sens, le modèle de la Communauté européenne nous enseigne que plus de
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libertés ont été accordées aux sociétés régionales auparavant menacées par le
modèle jacobin qui inspirait la vision dominante des États dits nationaux.
L’évaluation de Taylor ouvre un espace de possibilités politiques fort
prometteur et remet en question la vision homogénéisante du concept de nation
qui a conduit à la rupture de nombreux pays d’Europe centrale et de l’Est.
Taylor offre aux Canadiens une autre option que le fédéralisme uniforme, une
option qui exige la reconnaissance d’autrui. D’une certaine façon, c’est pour
cela que la notion de « société distincte » a vraiment valeur de symbole pour une
majorité de québécois; et l’impossibilité (sinon le refus) du reste du Canada
d’accepter que cette notion soit intégrée à la Constitution a créé un véritable
sentiment de rejet chez eux.
Selon Taylor, la politique de la reconnaissance (de la diversité profonde) est
essentielle pour les sociétés pluralistes modernes, puisqu’elle identifie avec
justesse le désir de conserver la différence culturelle entre les communautés
politiques en tant que réalité fondamentale. Cette approche de la politique
contribue à atténuer l’impact du « libéralisme procédural » selon lequel tous les
citoyens doivent disposer des mêmes droits et, ce faisant, dénie aux pouvoirs
publics l’autorité d’agir au nom d’objectifs collectifs qui auraient pour effet de
limiter la capacité des individus de décider ce qui est adéquat pour eux. Il émet
une sérieuse mise en garde à l’endroit des libéralistes procéduraux dans la
mesure où « l’ensemble censément neutre de principes imperméables aux
différences de la politique de la dignité égale reflète en fait une culture
hégémonique. Finalement, seules les cultures minoritaires ou étouffées sont
forcées de prendre une forme autre. Conséquence : la société censément juste et
aveugle devant les différences est non seulement inhumaine (parce qu’elle
réprime les identités), mais aussi — subtilement et inconsciemment — très
discriminatoire elle-même. » (Taylor, 1992b : 43)
Il est important de reconnaître que l’État ne peut prétendre à la neutralité
culturelle8. C’est en ayant cela à l’esprit que l’on peut conférer un rôle légitime
à la politique de la reconnaissance proposée par Taylor dans la société moderne.
Taylor se porte à la défense du caractère distinct du Québec en tant que moyen
de préservation et de promotion de son patrimoine culturel9.
La préservation d’une langue ou d’une culture (découlant de la définition d’un
bien qui ne peut être obtenu qu’en groupe et qui nécessite de ce fait une
intervention politique) peut être considérée comme un bien public et être
promue par l’État. L’enjeu en est la survie culturelle et les moyens qui doivent
être mis en place afin d’atteindre cet objectif. Cela ne signifie pas que les
libertés fondamentales individuelles soient mises de côté, mais tout
simplement qu’elles doivent être mises en juxtaposition avec la nécessité de
préserver la communauté au sein de laquelle elles peuvent s’exprimer.
À première vue, le fédéralisme constitue le type de régime politique qui
convient le mieux à la reconnaissance de la diversité. Le Canada n’a-t-il pas
adopté une forme fédérative justement pour répondre aux aspirations du
Québec et des provinces maritimes qui voulaient préserver leur identité et leur
héritage alors que plusieurs souhaitaient l’adoption d’un État unitaire? Dans
cette perspective, il peut sembler paradoxal que les nationalistes québécois
56
s’opposent aux principes du fédéralisme. Or, dans le débat actuel, c’est moins le
fédéralisme comme principe qui est contesté que les formes que ce dernier a
pris dans le contexte politique canadien. Ce qui est en jeu, c’est la place du
fédéralisme dans le présent débat sur le libéralisme. Le libéralisme de
procédure, dominant au Canada, tend à nier les formes territoriales du
fédéralisme, alors que le concept de libéralisme communautaire se prête
beaucoup mieux au fédéralisme. Selon Michel Seymour, « les idées libérales de
justice et d’égalité pour tous les individus ne peuvent être mises en place sans un
souci réel des communautés nationales » (Seymour, 1993 : 30).
De son côté, James Tully émet une mise en garde importante et note qu’il existe
un courant non négligeable dans le libéralisme qui tend à minimiser la nécessité
de reconnaître la diversité culturelle (Ignatieff, 1993). Tully est d’avis que cet
état de fait constitue l’une des forces les plus destructrices de la modernité, une
force qui doit être rapidement identifiée et contrée. Rappelons que c’est au nom
de la modernité que l’on a justifié les campagnes de colonisation de l’Amérique
du Nord, ainsi que le génocide des peuples autochtones qui en a découlé. En
outre, alors que des mouvements nationalistes continuent d’émerger partout
dans le monde, cette émergence est souvent due aux efforts de « nationalistes
civiques » en vue d’intégrer la communauté politique minoritaire dans un Étatnation donné10.
La notion de modernité a trop souvent servi à justifier les tentatives
d’éradication des différences culturelles et d’imposition d’un modèle uniforme
de gouvernement à tous les citoyens résidant sur un territoire donné. Tully
soutient alors que les initiatives visant à réformer la constitution canadienne
sans le consentement du Québec et des nations autochtones sont à la fois un déni
de l’esprit fédéral et une menace pour l’existence et le développement futur des
pratiques démocratiques canadiennes (Tully, 1995a : B-1). Sur un ton plus
prescriptif, on pourrait affirmer que, dans la mesure où le monde occidental
aspire à atténuer les conflits politiques, il devrait se montrer plus sensible au
pluralisme culturel profond (Tully, 1994). À l’encontre du discours des
libéralistes procéduraux, aucune vision de la société n’est neutre. Il est essential
alors de reconnaître le caractère multinational du Canada dans la mesure où
cette reconnaissance contribuerait à concilier les différences à l’intérieur du
Canada. Défendre la diversité profonde, c’est en même temps reconnaître la
nature multinationale du Canada.
On souligne également que le droit est une création culturelle, que l’action
gouvernementale est façonnée par le contexte culturel et que la culture joue un
rôle fondamental dans l’interprétation juridique11. Webber, quant à lui,
soutient que le fédéralisme implique que les régimes juridiques diffèrent d’une
province à l’autre. Conséquemment, le principe d’égalité est compatible avec
« l’existence de lois différentes s’appliquant à des individus différents » (1993 :
225; voir aussi Burelle, 1993). Ainsi, de l’existence même du fédéralisme
découle une application territorialement différenciée des lois qui relèvent des
législations provinciales, ces dernières répondant à des besoins définis par les
membres des collectivités provinciales. En somme, les principes du
fédéralisme vont à l’encontre d’une acception unidimensionnelle des droits
individuels. Toutefois, on ne saurait sous-estimer l’effet niveleur qu’a eu
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IJCS / RIÉC
l’enchâssement de la Charte des droits et libertés dans la Constitution
canadienne en 1982. À cet égard,Tully rappelait récemment que :
lorsque l’Assemblée nationale du Québec tente de préserver et de
développer le Québec en tant que société moderne et majoritairement
francophone, elle s’aperçoit que sa souveraineté traditionnelle dans
ce domaine est limitée par une charte qui conditionne la formulation et
la justification de toute sa législation, mais aussi une charte dont toute
reconnaissance du caractère distinct du Québec est complètement
exclue. La Charte a donc pour effet d’assimiler le Québec dans une
culture nationale pancanadienne, tout juste ce que la constitution de
1867, selon Lord Watson, avait pour objectif d’empêcher. Dans cette
perspective, on peut dire que la Charte est « impériale » , en ce sens
même qui a toujours été employé pour justifier l’indépendance.
(1995 : 8)
De ce point de vue, l’objection principale du Québec devant la Charte
canadienne est que celle-ci a modifié substantiellement, et sans son
consentement, le régime linguistique adopté par le Québec en 1977 — la
Charte de la langue française — s’attaquant ainsi au cœur de la stratégie qui
visait à assurer la pérennité du français en Amérique du Nord. Mais il y a plus.
La Charte canadienne est insuffisamment pluraliste et ne reconnaît pas le
caractère multinational du Canada. On y retrouve la protection (bien
qu’imparfaite parce que sujette à la clause dérogatoire) des droits
fondamentaux ainsi que la reconnaissance de certains droits associés à des
catégories d’individus particuliers (comme les femmes, les Autochtones, les
minorités ethnoculturelles). Mais la logique qui informe la Charte s’inspire
pour l’essentiel du libéralisme procédural et individualiste. Pour la plupart des
Québécois, il y a un équilibre à maintenir entre les droits individuels et les droits
des communautés nationales qui constituent un pays fédéré, droits sur lesquels
la Charte demeure silencieuse (Burelle, 1995a; Seymour, 1995). Pour ces
Québécois, lorsque la Constitution canadienne a été rapatriée de la GrandeBretagne en 1982, un lien de confiance a été rompu (Laforest, 1993; Gagnon et
Laforest, 1993), et ce rapatriement marque une césure avec les pratiques
constitutionnelles antérieures : le reste du Canada embrassant alors « une sorte
d’impérialisme constitutionnel, forçant ainsi les Québécois à s’engager à
contrecœur sur les traces des sécessionnistes américains de 1776 » (Tully,
1995b : 12)12.
Les tentatives visant à réduire les Québécois au statut de minorité comme les
autres au Canada ne réussissent qu’à nier le fait que le Québec est l’un des
principaux piliers sur lesquels a été érigé le Canada dans l’entente
constitutionnelle de 1867. Au cours des ans, les politiciens d’Ottawa ont violé
l’esprit de l’entente initiale en mettant en œuvre des politiques qui s’inspiraient
d’une vision « uniformisatrice » et centralisatrice. Contrairement à ce que ces
politiciens présumaient, ils n’avaient pas le mandat de changer unilatéralement
ce qui avait été décidé à l’origine par les parties à l’entente. Tully fait remarquer
que « les lois confédératives n’ont pas mis fin à la culture juridique et politique
établie de longue date dans les colonies et ainsi imposé une culture juridique et
politique uniforme, mais ont plutôt reconnu et laissé continuer les cultures
constitutionnelles [existantes] à l’intérieur d’une fédération diversifiée dans
58
laquelle chacune des provinces donnait son assentiment. » (Tully, 1994 : 8485). C’est dire que l’adoption de la Charte en 1982 peut être considéré comme
un acte anticonstitutionnel de discontinuité et d’assimilation. En conséquence,
Tully soutient que le meilleur moyen de contrer cet impérialisme (Said, 1993;
Tomlinson, 1991), et sans doute aussi l’homogénéité et l’exclusion, est de
maintenir et respecter trois conventions essentielles à toute vie politique : la
reconnaissance mutuelle, la continuité et le consentement.
Les implications de l’application de ces trois principes sont multiples. Pour
John A. Hall, « la nature d’un régime politique compte : historiquement, le
nationalisme implique que l’on se sépare d’une polité autoritaire » (1993 :
11)13. Hall avance qu’un traitement plus libéral du nationalisme devrait
améliorer la cohésion de la polité et atténuer le radicalisme, à travers un
phénomène comparable à la façon dont certains segments de la classe ouvrière
adoptent une attitude pacificatrice et collaboratrice (1993 : 17). Quant à la
dynamique Québec-Canada, on ne peut parler de politique autoritaire, mais
assurément de politique dominatrice.
Il faut souligner qu’il existe peu de cas de sécession d’États démocratiques
libéraux, sans doute parce qu’il continue d’y exister une « voix » . John Hall
indique que « le fait que le besoin d’avoir des États centralisés et unitaires
diminue fait en sorte qu’il est possible de permettre la conclusion d’ententes de
fédération et de coassociation capables d’apaiser le mécontentement » (1993 :
19). Au Canada, en revanche, un mouvement graduel vers le centralisme et
l’uniformité semble avoir fermé cette avenue14.
De l’absence de reconnaissance et de continuité
La politique constitutionnelle souligne comme nul autre domaine à quel point
les croyances sont manipulées par les leaders politiques et servent
d’instruments politiques destinés à obtenir réparation pour les injustices,
humiliations et trahisons du passé.
Ce sentiment d’avoir été traité injustement et de ne pas être reconnu a émergé
durant les discussions qui ont entouré l’Accord du lac Meech et au cours
desquelles le gouvernement du Québec avait demandé, entre autres choses, que
le Québec soit reconnu comme une « société distincte » dans la constitution
canadienne, en considération de ses caractéristiques propres. Ces éléments
réfèrent à sa culture politique, sa tradition de droit civil, sa culture économique
et sa langue française. Celles-ci furent d’ailleurs plus étroitement définies plus
tard dans l’Accord de Charlottetown : une majorité d’expression française, une
culture unique et une tradition de droit civil. Une telle reconnaissance était
devenue inévitable à la suite du rapatriement de la Constitution en 1982, de
l’enchâssement de la Charte des droits et libertés et de l’enchâssement d’une
formule d’amendement qui permettait un grand nombre de modifications à la
loi constitutionnelle, dont notamment celles reliées à la division des pouvoirs,
avec le seul consentement de sept provinces sur dix, pour peu qu’elles
constituent plus de 50 p. 100 de la population canadienne. C’est donc dire que le
Québec n’obtenait pas un droit de véto sur des questions centrales qui pourtant
le touchaient et se voyait imposer le statut de province semblable à toutes les
autres. Aucun de ces éléments de la Loi constitutionnelle de 1982 n’avait reçu
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l’assentiment de l’Assemblée nationale du Québec. En fait, tant le Parti
québécois (militant en faveur de la souveraineté du Québec) que le Parti libéral
du Québec (cherchant une modification en profondeur du mode de
fonctionnement du fédéralisme canadien) ont presque unanimement
condamné cette décision.
Un bon nombre de Québécois éprouvent un profond sentiment de trahison et
aucune solution satisfaisante susceptible d’atténuer leurs frustrations ne s’est à
ce jour concrétisée. La question nationale constitue toujours un vecteur de crise
politique au Canada. Au-delà de la gestion des relations fédéralesprovinciales, qui sont d’ailleurs sources de tensions depuis toujours (Simeon et
Robinson, 1990), la problématique identitaire ne peut être évacuée du dilemme
dans lequel se trouve le Canada. À cet égard, J. Berger rappelle que « [l]es
mouvements indépendantistes expriment toujours des revendications
économiques et territoriales, mais leur première réclamation est d’ordre
spirituel. [...] Tous les nationalismes sont au fond préoccupés par les noms,
l’invention la plus immatérielle et la plus originale de l’être humain. C’est pour
cela qu’ils [les peuples de la périphérie] insistent pour que leur identité soit
reconnue et insistent sur leur pérennité — leurs liens avec leurs morts et leurs
enfants à venir15. » En effet, alors que les Québécois avaient compris que
ll’arrangement fédéral devait être compris comme un pacte entre deux
« nations », le reste du Canada évoluait dans une direction différente, se
montrant peu enclin à subordonner le patriotisme canadien universaliste à un
nationalisme québécois particulariste. L’échec, sinon le rejet définitif de la
vision dualiste, a mis fin aux espoirs de reconnaissance de la nation québécoise
par le reste du Canada et des implications politiques qui en découleraient. Dans
ce contexte, les voies d’avenir sont peu nombreuses : ou les Québécois
acceptent le statut qui leur est imposé de l’extérieur par le reste du Canada, ou ils
cherchent à se constituer en État-nation, ou ils revendiquent encore une
reconnaissance formelle et explicite au sein d’un fédéralisme canadien
davantage ouvert et respectueux à l’endroit de la diversité.
La reconnaissance présume la continuité, un argument souventes fois répété
dans les études récentes du nationalisme (Anderson, 1983; Taylor, 1992b;
Dumont, 1995). Par exemple, Yael Tamir affirme que « [l]e nationalisme est
une théorie de la prééminence de l’appartenance nationale-culturelle et de la
continuité historique, et une théorie de l’importance de percevoir sa vie
présente et son développement futur comme une expérience à partager avec
autrui » (Tamir, 1993 : 79). L’idée de continuité historique est au centre de
l’existence du nationalisme. En ce sens, le nationalisme peut être abordé aussi
bien en tant que processus social de mobilisation qu’en tant qu’expression
moderne de l’identité légitimant des revendications politiques non satisfaites
par les groupes dominants.
Pour un État multinational
Avec l’avènement de la modernité, les concepts de nation et de nationalisme
n’ont pas perdu leur pertinence. En fait, on a employé le mot « nation » pour
appuyer la revendication du statut de nation et pour défendre la légitimité de
60
communautés nationales existantes ou « imaginées » (Brubaker, 1992; Noirel,
1991).
Lord Acton a apporté une contribution significative à l’avancement d’une
théorie moderne du multinationalisme dans son étude fondamentale de la
« nationalité ». Après avoir mis en juxtaposition les valeurs inhérentes à une
théorie de l’unité et à une théorie de la liberté, Lord Acton conclut que celle-là
conduit au despotisme et à la révolution, alors que celle-ci aboutit à
l’autogouvernement. Il affirme ensuite que « la présence de nations différentes
dans une même souveraineté [...] permet de se garantir contre l’asservissement
qui se développe à l’enseigne d’une autorité unique, en équilibrant les intérêts,
en multipliant les associations, et en donnant au sujet la retenue et l’appui d’une
opinion conjointe. [...] La liberté entraîne la diversité, et la diversité protège la
liberté en fournissant les moyens de l’organiser. » (Acton, 1949 : 185)
L’influence de Lord Acton sur l’ancien premier ministre Pierre Trudeau,
importante au début, s’est estompée avec les années. Même si Lord Acton a
dénoncé le nationalisme étroit et l’homogénéité nationale, les États
multinationaux lui semblaient cependant la meilleure garantie de liberté. Pour
Acton, « un État qui s’affaire à neutraliser, à absorber ou à expulser [les peuples
et nationalités différentes] détruit sa propre vitalité; il manque à un État qui ne
les inclut pas la base principale de l’autogouvernement » (Acton, 1949 : 193).
Pierre Elliott Trudeau n’aurait pu mieux comprendre et davantage se
rapprocher de la position philosophique de Lord Acton que lorsqu’il soutenait
qu’il fallait dissocier les concepts d’État et de nation, et faire du Canada une
société véritablement pluraliste et multinationale. Cet objectif fut néanmoins
mis de côté lorsqu’il prit les rênes de l’État canadien. Il préféra plutôt maintenir
et entretenir la confusion qu’il avait auparavant jugée improductive en dépit du
fait qu’il avait déjà compris qu’au Canada, « il y a deux groupes ethniques et
linguistiques principaux; chacun est fort, trop bien enraciné dans son passé et
trop bien soutenu par sa culture pour arriver à écarter l’autre » (Trudeau, 1962 :
53). Cela n’eut que peu d’influence, en revanche, sur la façon dont il a tenté de
régler l’interminable crise constitutionnelle canadienne en cherchant à imposer
un nouveau nationalisme aux antipodes de la reconnaissance du principe de
diversité (Gagnon et Rocher, 1992; McRoberts, 1997).
Au cours des vingt dernières années, on a commencé à employer de plus en plus
à Ottawa (la capitale fédérale) des expressions comme « projet national
canadien », « réseau national de radio-télévision », « communauté nationale »,
« partis politiques nationaux », « unité nationale », « gouvernement national »
ou « intérêt national ». Certains ne voient là que la traduction française du terme
national (comme dans national interest ou national community) qui réfère de
manière indifférenciée au pays et aux individus qui le constituent. Mais on peut
y voir plus qu’une dérive sémantique. Cette façon de concevoir la réalité
culturelle, sociale et politique laisse entendre que toute vision véritablement
fédérale du pays est destinée à l’érosion et que l’expression d’une diversité
culturelle profonde est découragée.
Le fait que les concepts d’État et de nation soient utilisés différemment par les
Québécois et les Canadiens anglais dénote des divergences profondes entre
eux, divergences entretenues par des projets et programmes politiques
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distincts. Ainsi, les idéologues et politiciens québécois tendent à qualifier leur
propre communauté politique de nation, alors que leurs vis-à-vis canadiensanglais demeurent sourds à tout désir de reconnaissance des entités
multinationales du Canada qui réclament un rôle plus important d’un État
canadien agissant au nom d’une nation canadienne unique, indivisible et créée
de toute pièce16. Dommage que Lord Acton n’ait pas mieux été entendu
lorsqu’il disait que « [l]e plus grand adversaire des droits de la nationalité est la
théorie moderne de la nationalité. En assimilant État et nation, elle réduit à la
portion congrue toutes les autres nationalités existant à l’intérieur des mêmes
frontières. Cette théorie ne peut admettre qu’elles soient égales à la nation
dominante parce que l’État cesserait alors d’être national. » (Acton, 1949 : 192193)
L’idée de l’établissement d’un État multinational au Canada a commencé à
faire son chemin. Récemment, le politologue canadien Philip Resnick en
arrivait à la conclusion selon laquelle « plus nous serons prêts à épouser la
diversité sociologique dans notre compréhension de la nationalité, plus nous
serons susceptibles de faire des progrès dans la résolution des conflits
engendrés par les différences nationales ». L’argument principal de Resnick se
résume ainsi : « tant que nous présumerons qu’il y a une nation canadienne
unique, créée en 1867 et dont Québécois et Autochtones font partie intégrante,
il y aura relativement peu de place à la discussion » (1994 : 7; voir aussi Meisel,
1995 : 341-346). Un tel revirement de situation contribuerait certainement à
accommoder17 les Québécois et les nations autochtones au sein de la structure
fédérale canadienne et pourrait constituer un modèle de pluralisme culturel
susceptible d’être imité par d’autres sociétés profondément diversifiées à
travers le monde. On peut bien sûr s’interroger sur les modalités politiques
particulières qui nous permettraient d’atteindre un tel objectif. Il y a bien sûr le
contentieux constitutionnel qu’il faudra bien régler un jour et qui comprend
notamment la reconnaissance formelle du caractère distinct du Québec et
l’octroi d’un droit de veto pour ce qui est des modifications futures. Il s’agit
pourtant moins de modifier les institutions politiques qui nous gouvernent que
de changer l’état d’esprit de ceux qui se présentent comme les défenseurs du
fédéralisme canadien en les incitant à réfléchir et à remettre en question leur
approche unitaire qui informe leur action. Dans un tel contexte, les discussions
entourant des thèmes comme l’asymétrie, la reconnaissance du caractère
distinct du Québec, qui ne soit pas que symbolique mais qui produirait des
conséquences politiques concrètes, et la reconnaissance du droit inhérent des
peuples autochtones à l’autonomie gouvernementale, prendraient une
direction nouvelle.
Actuellement, bon nombre d’intellectuels québécois et, jusqu’à un certain
point, le gouvernement du Québec — voir notamment son avant-projet de loi
sur la souveraineté (Québec, 1994; Turp, 1995; Québec, 1995) — proposent
une idée de la nation politique fondée sur le pluralisme culturel et le
nationalisme libéral comme solution à l’impasse actuelle (Groupe de réflexion
sur les institutions et la citoyenneté, 1994; Gagnon et Laforest, 1993; Lenihan
et al., 1994). En ce sens, ils prennent leur distance par rapport à un discours
fondé sur le ressentiment à l’endroit de tout ce qui pourrait être étrangé au noyau
principal de la communuté d’appartenance. Cela étant dit, il faut néanmoins
62
reconnaître que le discours nationaliste est d’abord véhiculé par des
francophones québécois et ne trouve qu’un écho très marginal au sein de la
communauté anglophone, dont les principaux porte-parole ne cessent de
décrier ses fondements ethno-linguistes pour mieux les dénoncer et s’y
opposer18. Pour lever cette ambiguïté, il importe de distinguer le nationalisme
véhiculé par les Québécois, qu’on ne peut dissocier de ses fondements
ethnoculturels (qui se résumaient il n’y a pas si longtemps au fait des Canadiens
français catholiques), du projet national que ces derniers mettent de l’avant. En
ce sens, s’il est vrai de dire que ce nationalisme véhicule des préoccupations
liées à la survie et à l’épanouissement de la langue française, il n’est pas que
culturel et linguistique. Le nationalisme met aussi de l’avant un projet qui
interpelle tous les Québécois, quels que soient leur langue et leur origine
ethnique. Il renvoie à un sens d’appartenance, à la constitution d’une
communauté politique qui dépasse les intérêts immédiats des seuls
francophones, ou en d’autres termes, à l’insertion dans une histoire particulière
forcément marquée par la présence d’un groupe linguistique et culturel bien
défini. Le projet national moderne est pluraliste en ce qu’il cherche à constituer
une société québécoise qui reconnaîtrait les différences et les divergences
reliées à l’ethnicité, aux régionalismes et aux classes sociales. C’est pour cette
raison que le nationalisme n’est pas uniquement alimenté par des questions
relatives au statut du français. Cette idée rejette les modèles fondés sur
l’ethnicité et s’appuie sur une vision inclusive, séculière et multipolaire de la
nation dans laquelle toutes les communautés minoritaires et nationales (en ce
qui concerne plus spécifiquement les Autochtones) sont invitées à construire
l’État naissant et à converger dans l’établissement du français comme langue de
la culture politique commune et comme fondement d’une identité
communautaire.
Les traits dominants du projet nationaliste québécois s’articulent d’abord
autour des exigences et obligations civiques plutôt qu’autour des aspirations
ethniques19. Une telle interprétation est compatible avec celle de Craig
Calhoun, pour qui « le nationalisme n’est pas simplement une revendication de
similitude ethnique, mais plutôt une revendication selon laquelle certaines
similitudes devraient constituer la façon dont se définit la communauté
politique. Voilà pourquoi le nationalisme a besoin de frontières, au contraire de
l’ethnicité prémoderne » (Calhoun, 1993 : 229). Il en découle l’importance
d’une définition de la nation qui s’appuie sur les principes de l’inclusion et de la
pratique de la démocratie libérale.
Conclusion
Il est temps, dans les pays occidentaux développés, de dissocier les concepts de
nation (communautés/identités politiques) et de citoyenneté. Comme nous le
rappelle Philip Resnick, il y a intersection, mais pas identité absolue, entre
l’État politique et les communautés/identités nationales (1994 : 6). C’est
pourquoi un régime fédéral, qui se veut autre chose qu’un État unitaire
décentralisé, doit accepter que la citoyenneté soit fonctionnelle et que les
aménagements politiques puissent différer au sein de ses différentes
composantes nationales sans pour autant se sentir menacé dans son intégrité.
Mais c’est le défaut de reconnaître des communautés politiques en tant que
63
IJCS / RIÉC
« nations » qui entraîne des conflits politiques et conduit celles-ci à rechercher
et assurer leur statut d’État-nation. La modernité demande la diversité
culturelle et invite les acteurs politiques et sociaux à encourager le respect de
l’hétérogénéité au sein même des États, non seulement d’un État à l’autre.
Ainsi, John Breuilly développe un argument important lorsqu’il affirme que :
le nationalisme a peu à voir avec l’existence ou la non-existence d’une
nation [...]. Sous l’empire des Habsbourg ou sous l’Empire
britannique, il y avait des circonstances qui faisaient que le
nationalisme était la forme la plus appropriée que pouvait prendre
l’opposition politique. Les élites et les groupes sociaux à qui l’on niait
leurs droits politiques éprouvaient le besoin de s’approprier le
pouvoir étatique, et l’idéologie nationaliste ne semblait pas seulement
promouvoir une opposition efficace, mais aussi refléter la nature
même du conflit, en s’appuyant sur certaines caractéristiques
culturelles ou traditions institutionnelles. (1994 : 397)
Les expressions récentes du nationalisme québécois ne pourraient pas
constituer un meilleur exemple d’un tel déni, à la suite de l’imposition en 1982
d’un ordre constitutionnel canadien sans l’accord du peuple québécois ou de
l’Assemblée nationale du Québec. La plupart des porte-parole canadiensanglais ne voient pas la nécessité de rétablir la continuité et ne reconnaissent
généralement même pas le besoin de maintenir un dialogue entre le passé et le
présent ni de faire accepter aux Québécois l’État canadien qui émerge
actuellement. Les Canadiens anglais estiment que cet effort n’engendrerait que
de nouvelles confrontations politiques et réactiverait des points de discorde
déjà résolus en leur faveur20. Plutôt que de faire face à la réalité, les leaders
canadiens-anglais préfèrent maintenir le cap et ignorer que cela pourrait
conduire à la sécession du Québec, ou demeurer insensibles à cette possibilité.
Le fait que le Québec existait avant l’établissement de l’État territorial connu
sous le nom de Canada légitime les revendications politiques québécoises dans
la sphère publique et justifie moralement la sécession21. En un mot, c’est parce
que les institutions dominantes du Canada ne reflètent pas la divergence qui
existe dans les revendications de nature culturelle, historique et politique que
nous nous retrouvons aujourd’hui à nouveau dans une impasse.
Notes
*
1.
2.
3.
4.
64
Nous tenons à remercier les évaluateurs désignés par la Revue pour leurs commentaires
d’une version antérieure du présent article. Les auteurs ont écrit cet article dans le cadre des
travaux du Groupe de recherche sur les sociétés plurinationales financé par le Fonds FCAR
(ER-2523).
Pour un point de vue similaire, voir Tully (1994) et, pour une analyse plus poussée des
politiques publiques durant les années Trudeau et Mulroney, voir Forbes (1993). Pour une
évaluation générale des pratiques fédérales, voir Gjidara (1991).
Sur le Japon, voir White et al. (1990).
Le cas de l’intégration des régions périphériques de la Grande-Bretagne dans le marché
britannique vaut la peine d’être mentionné puisque c’est ce phénomène qui a conduit à la
mobilisation politique au pays de Galles et en Écosse, voir Hechter (1975); Nairn (1977).
Nairn avance que le nationalisme doit être conceptualisé en tant que variable indépendante
capable de « faire sortir l’État de ses charnières » (89).
Seton-Waton définit le concept d’État comme : « une organisation juridique et politique
ayant le pouvoir d’exiger obéissance et loyauté de la part de ses citoyens » alors que le terme
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.
10.
11.
12.
13.
14.
15.
16.
17.
18.
19.
20.
« nation » est utilisé pour désigner « une communauté de gens dont les membres sont unis
par un sentiment de solidarité, une culture commune, une conscience nationale » (1977 : 1).
Voir une discussion de la contribution de Meinecke dans Alters (1989 : 14-15).
Pour une contribution importante sur le nationalisme en tant que phénomène moderne, voir
Rupnick (1995).
Pour Taylor, la diversité de premier niveau implique la reconnaissance d’un Canada
composé de plusieurs cultures qui adhèrent à la fédération canadienne de manière similaire,
alors que la diversité de second niveau, ou diversité profonde, fait référence aux façons
différentes d’appartenir ou de s’identifier à un pays (Taylor, 1993 : 94-95; 1992a : 211-214).
Pour une application au cas de la minorité arabe en Israël, voir Sa’di (1995) et pour une
application au cas canadien, voir Webber (1993).
L’analyse de Taylor diffère en partie de celle de Kymlicka (1989) qui ne donne aucune
justification correspondante pour la promotion des communautés culturelles. Taylor
soutient que l’approche de Kymlicka contribue à venir en aide à celles-ci, mais que la
tendance à demeurer fidèle à l’illusion de la neutralité libérale pourrait leur être fatale à long
terme. Voir les chapitres 5 et 6 de D. Lenihan, G. Robertson et R. Tassé (1994).
Contestant l’argument avancé par, entre autres, Michael Ignatieff et William Pfaff, selon
lequel le nationalisme ethnique conduit au conflit nationaliste, Kymlicka soutient que « le
conflit nationaliste est souvent causé par des tentatives d’incorporer par la force des
minorités nationales » (Kymlicka, 1995 : 132). Exposé à la situation canadienne, Kymlicka
est bien placé pour avancer cet argument.
Voir par exemple l’étude de Sunstein (1993) dans laquelle il soutient que la pratique du droit
n’est ni neutre ni naturelle, mais qu’elle est en fait chargée de valeurs. Son étude de plusieurs
politiques publiques, dont la discrimination positive, la pornographie, la discrimination
fondée sur le sexe et les subventions gouvernementales, nous force à revoir certaines idées
reçues et nous invite à considérer la politique constitutionnelle comme un formidable
exercice de démocratie de délibération.
Tully avance aussi que cet impérialisme constitutionnel s’appuie sur la tromperie
d’arrangements politiques antérieurs et est maintenu par la menace de la force, ce qui
conduira inévitablement à davantage de confrontation et de désunion (1995b : 20).
L’auteur traite dans cet article de la célèbre distinction faite par Albert Hirschman entre la
sortie, la voix et la loyauté. En deux mots, lorsqu’une communauté politique a une voix, elle
est moins encline à sortir d’un système politique.
André Burelle, ancien haut fonctionnaire au Bureau des relations fédérales-provinciales, en
est arrivé à cette conclusion après avoir travaillé pour le système fédéral canadien et l’avoir
appuyé (1995a et 1995b).
J. Berger, tel qu’il est cité dans Teich et Porter (1993 : xx).
Pour une analyse des nationalismes au Canada, voir Jenson (1994) et Burgess (1995).
Pour une contribution originale sur la notion d’accommodement et son utilité dans les
sociétés fédérées, voir Latouche (1995).
Un exemple éloquent de ce phénomène se trouve dans les propos de William Johnson selon
qui « l’objectif du nationalisme québécois actuel est, tout comme ce fut le cas dans les années
soixante, la création d’un État ethnique au Québec » (1994 : 389).
Plusieurs leaders autochtones, dont Mary Ellen Turpel, Ovide Mercredi et Matthew CoonCome, soutiennent que le Québec ne peut exercer son droit à l’autodétermination parce qu’il
ne constitue pas un peuple. Pour exercer un tel droit, disent-ils, le Québec devrait mettre en
œuvre une politique raciste et présenter des revendications nationalistes exclusives. Pour
une interprétation similaire de ce point de vue autochtone, voir Whitaker (1995), pour qui : «
[c]e qui est important et qu’on oublie dans cette objection légaliste est le fait que
l’affirmation par le Québec d’un droit à l’autodétermination nationale a été formulée en
termes démocratiques, libéraux et inclusifs. Avec des garanties de protection des droits des
minorités, la volonté de la majorité sur le territoire actuel du Québec, exprimée
démocratiquement par référendum, de faire la souveraineté est légitime. » (212)
Cela rappelle une citation fort intéressante de Petr Pithart: « L’a-nationalisme de la nation
dominante (par opposition au nationalisme de la nation dominée) peut ne pas être toujours
aussi innocent et impuissant qu’il n’aime à le croire ou à le faire croire, et cela parce qu’il
peut laisser les autres agir à sa place, ceux qui, plus faibles, se sentent obligés de pratiquer
l’auto-défense. L’a-nationalisme tchèque qui, se sentant supérieur, fustige la ferveur
65
IJCS / RIÉC
21.
nationale slovaque, est loin d’être une attitude désintéressée. Il s’agirait plutôt d’une
mutation temporaire du nationalisme, autrement dit d’un nationalisme implicite propre à la
nation dominante. » (1993 : 209)
Le philosophe politique James Tully dénonce la situation actuelle au Canada lorsqu’il
souligne que « le constitutionnalisme impérial, fondé sur la tromperie des années 80 et sur les
menaces de recours à la force des années 90, est la cause principale de la désunion du Canada.
Les paroles et gestes choquants des fédéralistes du “put up or shut up” ont donné aux
sécessionnistes leurs principales justifications [...]. Les Québécois n’ont aucun intérêt à
demeurer dans une fédération unie par la tromperie et la force. » (1995b : 20)
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68
Earl H. Fry
Regional Economic Development Strategies in
Canada and the United States: Linkages Between
the Subnational, National and Global Settings
Abstract
This article examines how the major non-central governments in the U.S. and
Canadian federal systems are coping with the challenges and opportunities
inherent in the increasingly interdependent global and continental
economies. It indicates that the vast majority of the 50 state governments in
the United States and the 10 provincial governments in Canada have
significantly expanded their economic activities well beyond the “waters’
edge,” in part because 1 in 3 private-sector jobs in Canada and 1 in 6 in the
United States are now directly linked to the international economy. In
addition, complex interdependence has greatly magnified the effect of
“intermesticity” on state and provincial populations, a term which describes
the overlap of domestic and international issues. In the final section, the
author predicts that a combination of (a) growing global interdependence, (b)
proliferating intermestic influences, and (c) expanding international
involvement by non-central governments will increasingly complicate the
public policy process at the subnational, national, and continental levels
within North America.
Résumé
Le présent article se penche sur la façon dont les plus importants
gouvernements non centraux, qui font partie des systèmes fédéraux américain
et canadien, parviennent à profiter des occasions et relever les défis inhérents
aux économies mondiale et continentales de plus en plus dépendantes les unes
des autres. L’auteur indique qu’une grande majorité des gouvernements des
états américains ainsi que ceux des dix provinces canadiennes ont
énormément étendu leurs activités économiques au-delà de leurs « rives », en
partie parce que, dans le secteur privé, un emploi sur trois au Canada et un
sur six aux États-Unis sont maintenant directement liés à l’économie
internationale.De plus, des liens d’interdépendance complexes ont
considérablement amplifié l’effet de « l’intermesticité » (un terme servant à
décrire le chevauchement des dossiers domestiques et internationaux) sur les
populations des états et des provinces. Dans la dernière partie, l’auteur prédit
qu’une combinaison de (a) une interdépendance mondiale croissante, (b) la
prolifération des influences « intermestiques » et (c) l’expansion de
l’engagement international des gouvernements non centraux compliqueront
de plus en plus le processus de politique publique aux niveaux subnational,
national et continental à l’intérieur de l’Amérique du Nord.
IJCS / RIÉC
The Interplay of National, Subnational and Global Actors
This article will examine how the major, non-central governments in the U.S.
and Canadian federal systems are coping with the challenges and opportunities
inherent in the increasingly interdependent global and continental economies.
The vast majority of the fifty state governments in the United States and the ten
provincial governments in Canada have significantly expanded their economic
activities well beyond the “waters’ edge.” In addition, complex
interdependence has greatly magnified the effect of “intermesticity” on state
and provincial populations, a term which describes the overlap of domestic and
international issues. As a result, numerous constituent groups, especially
business and labour organizations, have demanded that their non-central
governments protect and enhance their interests in the face of decisions made or
actions which transpire outside the boundaries of their nation-state. This
combination of (a) growing global interdependence, (b) proliferating
intermestic influences, and (c) expanding international involvement by noncentral governments, is beginning to complicate the public policy process at the
subnational, national, regional and global levels. Although a discussion of the
theoretical underpinnings of globalization and the future viability of the nationstate exceeds the scope of this article, it must be stressed that theories dealing
with international relations have only begun to scratch the surface in explaining
the overall implications of complex interdependence.1
These local level constituent demands have resulted in laws passed by state and
provincial governments which have repercussions on the conduct of global
commerce. In the late 1970s, for example, in a quest to expand state revenues
and to combat efforts by transnational corporations (TNCs) to transfer tax
liabilities to low-tax jurisdictions, the state of California enacted a unitary tax
formula which imposed levies on the global activities of the TNCs, and not
simply their activities within California. Many TNCs, backed by their home
governments, protested that this was a form of double taxation and violated
U.S. government tax treaties with other nations. Prime Minister Margaret
Thatcher appealed directly to President Ronald Reagan to end this practice in
California, but neither the White House nor the U.S. Congress was willing to
make this a political issue, especially with California holding almost 12 percent
of the seats in the U.S. House of Representatives and accounting for one-fifth of
the votes needed to win the presidency in the U.S. electoral college.
This left the TNCs with two alternatives. The first was to seek redress in the
U.S. federal court system. After a very long and ultimately disappointing
struggle, the U.S. Supreme Court finally decided in June 1994 that California
was perfectly within its rights to levy a unitary tax. The justices added that if
Congress did not like the practice, it should pass a new law rendering unitary
taxation illegal. In the absence of such a law, California and other states could
continue to apply this special type of taxation.2
A second route was much more productive. Foreign owners of U.S. companies
now provide about five million jobs in the United States. Some of these owners
warned officials in California that a continuation of unitary taxation would
provoke them either to move their existing businesses to neighbouring states
which had renounced the unitary tax formula, or to expand new operations
70
Regional Economic Development Strategies in Canada
and the United States
outside of California. The California legislature, fearing both the loss of jobs
and revenues, reacted to these warnings and changed its tax formula even
before the U.S. Supreme Court had rendered its final decision.
In addition, a third alternative has recently become available to these TNCs and
their home governments. Regional and international commitments made by
Washington and Ottawa during the mid-1990s require these national
governments to reach down to the subnational levels of their own nation-states
and force changes in local laws which allegedly distort global commercial
activity. For example, both Canada and the United States are signatories to the
Uruguay Round, which created the World Trade Organization (WTO) on
January 1, 1995, and to the North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA),
which began to be implemented on January 1, 1994. The Uruguay Round and
NAFTA empower other member countries to challenge a wide range of state
and provincial laws which affect commerce either internationally or
continentally. If these challenges are upheld by WTO or NAFTA tribunals,
then either the state or provincial governments must change their policies, their
national government must provide alternative settlement packages acceptable
to the winning parties, their national government must permit the winning
parties to enact trade sanctions against Canada or the United States, or their
national government can ignore the decision altogether, thereby calling into
question the future viability of the WTO and NAFTA. These examples help to
illustrate the complexity of national, subnational and global economic
interactions in the waning years of the twentieth century.
The United States and Canada in the International Economy
Territorially, Canada and the United States are the second and fourth largest
nation-states in the world. Population-wise, the United States, with 267 million
people, ranks number three and Canada, with 30 million people, ranks
approximately number 35. Economically, both enjoy among the highest
standards of living in the world, and in its annual ranking of nations in terms of
human development, the United Nations Development Program has often rated
Canada during the 1990s as the best place to live on the planet.3 The United
States also has the world’s largest gross domestic product (GDP), approaching
eight trillion dollars (U.S.), and Canada’s GDP of 840 billion dollars (CAN)
ranks among the top dozen globally.4 Both countries are members of the
exclusive Group of 7 (G-7) nations.
Leaders in the White House and the Prime Minister’s Office, as well as those in
the offices of governors and premiers, are well aware of what is transpiring in
the global economy. Global trade is at record levels, with the international
exchange of goods and services surpassing six trillion dollars (U.S.) per year,
up almost 80-fold in nominal terms since 1950 and far surpassing the rate of
economic growth in individual national economies.5 International direct
investment (IDI) experienced a ten-fold increase in real terms during the 1980s,
and in 1994 alone IDI flows among the 25 Organization for Economic
Development and Cooperation (OECD) countries approached 200 billion
dollars (U.S.).6 Revenues generated by international tourism also surpass 320
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IJCS / RIÉC
billion dollars (U.S.) per year, with almost 600 million trips taken across
national boundaries.7
The two North American neighbours are major players in this increasingly
globalized economy, with one of every three private-sector jobs in Canada and
one in six in the United States linked to international trade, investment and
tourism activity.8 The United States is the world’s largest importer, exporter
and host nation for IDI. In addition, nearly 50 million international visits are
made to the U.S. each year, with foreign visitors spending over 90 billion
dollars (U.S.).9 In total, roughly 18 million American jobs are dependent on
international economic activities. Proportionally, Canada is much more
dependent on international markets than the United States. In 1996, Canadian
exports surpassed 38 percent of the nation’s GDP, up from 25 percent in 1990
and the highest among the G-7 nations.10 Eighty percent of these exports were
destined for only one market, the United States. As a proportion of the national
economy, cumulative IDI is also three times greater in Canada than the U.S.,
and as a percentage of the national population, international visits to Canada are
also three times higher than international visits to the United States.11 Within
this setting, state and provincial governments have increased their own
involvement and influence in the continental and international economies.
An Explanation of State and Provincial Government Involvement in
the International Arena
Over the past quarter of a century, and especially since 1980, provincial and
state governments have dramatically escalated their involvement abroad, with
most efforts aimed at promoting exports and attracting IDI. In addition to
protecting and enhancing the interests of local constituents, this increased
international involvement arises from the following factors:
1) The quest for enhanced revenues
Import and export activity as a percentage of U.S. GDP grew from ten percent in
1960 to one-quarter in 1996, with total trade in goods and services in the range
of 1.8 trillion dollars (U.S.). Canada is even more dependent on trade activity,
and in the manufacturing sector, approximately 55 percent of everything
produced is shipped out of country, with sales of Canadian-made factory goods
in the United States actually surpassing Canadian domestic sales.12 Noncentral governments encourage their business communities to engage in export
activity and thereby create jobs and augment the local tax base. This effort to
increase tax revenues comes at a time when both Ottawa and Washington, D.C.
are significantly decreasing transfer payments to provincial and state
government budgets.13
2) The internationalization of production
Global trade and IDI activity are increasingly interrelated, with perhaps onethird of international trade occurring between parent firms and their
subsidiaries situated around the world. The United States and Canada have the
world’s largest bilateral trading relationship, and intra-firm trade is even more
pronounced, with 41 percent of U.S. merchandise exports to Canada and almost
47 percent of imports being intra-firm transactions.14 Consequently, the
72
attraction of direct investment from overseas may not only create new jobs
locally, but may also spur additional export and import activity. As mentioned
earlier, the United States now has five million jobs provided by foreigncontrolled enterprises, with average wages in the manufacturing sector being
appreciably higher than comparable wages in U.S.-owned businesses.15
Almost all of the 60 state and provincial governments in the two countries are
actively seeking to attract these foreign firms to their areas of jurisdiction.
3) A counterbalance to perceived inequities in the Canadian and U.S. federal
systems
Canada and the United States are huge nations territorially, and the
demographic, physical and cultural features of subnational units may vary
considerably across these vast countries. Consequently, some units may feel
less advantaged than others or perceive that their national governments fail to
adequately represent the interests of their constituents. At times, these
differences may prompt non-central governments to take actions beyond the
waters’ edge. Quebec’s representation abroad, especially in Francophone
nations, falls within this category. The same may be said for Alberta’s and
Texas’ status as “observers” at international meetings sponsored by the
Organization of Petroleum Exporting Countries (OPEC).
States and provinces may also face economic challenges which differ
significantly from their counterparts elsewhere in their nations. The per capita
income in Connecticut is almost twice as high as Mississippi’s, and Ontario’s
average family income 40 percent higher than Newfoundland’s. During the
recession of the early 1990s, the New England states lost 22 percent of all their
manufacturing jobs, compared to five percent for the nation as a whole. Ontario
bore the brunt of the same recession in Canada, and California lost over 700,000
jobs between the beginning of 1990 and the end of 1994.16
4) The relative ease in establishing international liaisons
Major innovations in transportation and communications have simplified the
efforts of non-central governments to establish global linkages. Passengers and
cargo from even the remotest airports in North America can generally reach
trans-Pacific or trans-Atlantic destinations with no more than two or at most
three transfers at airports along the way. Business representatives may also
keep track of international developments instantaneously via satellites,
computers, faxes and other means of communication. The costs of longdistance transportation and communications have also decreased
precipitously. Moreover, most businesses no longer need ports or big-city
infrastructures to carry out their activities, a phenomenon which has opened the
quest to attract IDI to inland and sparsely-populated states and provinces.
Increased immigration to both countries has also helped new residents to
solidify business linkages with their former homelands. Almost one million
immigrants enter the United States each year, and foreign-born residents made
up 9.3 percent of the U.S. population in March 1996, the highest share since
World War II. Of the 24.6 million foreign-born residents, almost 5 million had
arrived since 1990 and one-third of these new arrivals settled in California.17
Immigration growth in Canada has been even more dramatic, with 200,000
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IJCS / RIÉC
arriving in 1995 alone, the equivalent of two-thirds of one percent of Canada’s
population. Approximately one-half of Canada’s total population growth is
now attributable to immigration, and 23.5 percent of Ontario’s population and
38 percent of metropolitan Toronto’s were born outside of Canada.18
5) The expanding scope of provincial and state governments
A few decades ago, most subnational legislatures in Canada and the United
States met on a part-time basis and had minimal staff assistance. Today, almost
all legislatures meet more often and have significantly expanded their staffs and
law-making functions. For example, 43 state legislatures met annually in 1992,
compared to only 18 in 1960 and 4 in 1945, and in the period between 1975 and
1990, state legislatures reviewed an average of 193,000 bills each biennium,
passing an average of 43,000.19 The same trend has occurred in the executive
offices directed by premiers and governors. Budgets of non-central
governments have also increased significantly, with many rivaling those of
small or medium-sized countries. California’s 1997-98 fiscal year budget is
approximately the same as that proposed by Boris Yeltsin for Russia, and state
governments collectively employ 4.7 million people.20
Furthermore, the growth in state and provincial economies has accorded them
“world class” standing. In 1996, 185 nations were represented in the United
Nations. If these countries and the provinces and states were ranked by GDP,
two U.S. states, California and New York, would rank among the top dozen
nations in the world. California alone has a larger economy and population base
than Canada, a member of G-7. Ten states and two provinces would rank among
the top 25 nation-states in terms of GDP, 33 states and 4 provinces among the
top 50, and all 50 states and 8 of the 10 provinces (all but Newfoundland and
Prince Edward Island) among the top 75 members of the United Nations.21
Collectively, these states and provinces produce over 8 trillion dollars (U.S.)
per year and their governments spend about 800 billion dollars (U.S.)
annually.22
6) Constitutional ambiguity and political uncertainty
The U.S. constitution and various federal court decisions place control of
foreign affairs squarely in the hands of the U.S. Congress and the President. The
national government is designated as the sole representative of the United
States in its dealings with foreign nations. The constitution also expressly or
clearly implies a prohibition on a broad range of state or local government
activities that might intrude on the exercise of authority by the national
government. For example, non-central governments are forbidden to make
treaties or engage in war. They can only enter into “agreements or compacts”
with the consent of Congress. It is also generally accepted that they cannot
exchange ambassadors nor negotiate with foreign governments on matters
clearly within the realm of U.S. foreign policy. Interstate and foreign
commerce is also assigned to the U.S. Congress, which retains the right of
preemption whenever federal and state laws or practices might conflict within
these fields.23
On the other hand, the U.S. system is federal, meaning that authority is divided
constitutionally between the national and state governments. Moreover, the
74
tenth amendment to the constitution stipulates that whatever is not expressly
assigned to the national government belongs to the state governments and the
people. In addition, congressional silence on what state governments do in the
international system is generally considered to mean tacit approval of these
activities, as manifested in California’s unitary taxation case.
In Canada, the constitution favours the national government in the conduct of
foreign political, defense and commercial affairs, as spelled out in Section 91 of
the Constitution Act, 1867. Section 132 of the same act is even more succinct,
stating that the “Parliament and Government of Canada shall have all powers
necessary or proper for performing the obligations of Canada or of any
Province thereof, as part of the British Empire, towards foreign countries,
arising under treaties between the Empire and such foreign countries.”
However, this provision lost its significance when the Statute of Westminster
of 1931 granted Canada full legislative authority domestically and in foreign
affairs.
Moreover, the British-based Privy Council’s decision in the Labour
Conventions case of 1937 affirmed that Ottawa has full powers to enter into
treaties, but it cannot unilaterally implement them in areas which fall under
provincial government control as enunciated in Sections 92 and 93 of the
Constitution Act, 1867. Furthermore, intraprovincial trade is not subject to
federal control, and some latitude may be given to the provincial governments
in interprovincial and international trade, especially in areas of resource
management and industrial policy.24 Indeed, this lack of harmonization in
intraprovincial practices and in aspects of interprovincial trade partly explains
why there are far more non-central government trade barriers within Canada’s
domestic market than in the U.S. domestic market. A combined federal and
provincial government agreement which went into effect in 1995 will finally
begin to eliminate some of these barriers which are estimated to cost Canadian
consumers and businesses as much as seven billion dollars (CAN) per year.25
In the mid-1930s, the Ontario government argued that it had the right to enter
into international agreements with other parts of the British Empire or with a
foreign state. The Labour Conventions case did not fully support Ontario’s
contention, but did stress that Ottawa could not force the provinces to abide by
international accords which mandated changes in areas within provincial
jurisdiction. Later, the government of Quebec launched a major challenge to
Ottawa’s claim of sole jurisdiction in the foreign policy realm, culminating in
the publication of Quebec’s Working Paper on Foreign Relations in 1969. In
this document, the provincial government claimed that Section 132 had been
nullified as a result of Canada taking control of its own foreign policy and the
end of the British Empire. Moreover, Quebec City disputed Ottawa’s assertion
that the Letters Patent issued by the Crown to the Governor General in 1947
automatically transferred competence over foreign policy to the national
government. As a consequence, the Quebec government insisted that there was
no constitutional basis to support any exclusive federal treaty-making power,
and that the Labour Conventions and other cases indicated that provincial
governments were free to enter into treaties in areas of provincial legislative
competence.26
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IJCS / RIÉC
Quebec’s challenge to Ottawa’s claim of exclusive authority in foreign affairs
actually began in 1965 when Quebec City signed education and cultural
ententes with the government of France. In 1967, the Quebec government
created a branch for “Relations Abroad” within its Department of
Intergovernmental Affairs. The next year, Gabon invited Quebec to attend the
Conference of Education Ministers from French-speaking countries in Africa,
and another invitation was issued to Quebec for a second meeting of this group
which was held in Paris in April 1968. Ottawa was extremely upset, first tacitly
suspending relations with Gabon and then issuing its own White Paper entitled
Federalism and International Conferences on Education. In this paper, the
federal government asserted that only Canada could participate in international
conferences and Canada would be represented by the national government.
Finally in 1970, Ottawa and Quebec City began to cooperate and worked out a
compromise in which Quebec government representatives could attend these
international conferences as delegates from a “participating” government, but
also as part of Canada’s official delegation. 27 Nevertheless, some
representatives of the provincial government, including Vice Premier and
Minister of International Affairs, Bernard Landry, have consistently argued
that Quebec is a “nation-state” and that the Quebec government “will act as the
main spokespersons for the people of Quebec and the defender of their specific
interests in the international arena.”28 Following this line of thinking, the
government of Quebec has entered into at least 230 ententes with foreign
governments.29
In an era of complex global interdependence, combined with an accentuation of
intermesticity, one must anticipate that state and provincial governments will
become increasingly involved in the international sector, or in issues which
have ramifications which carry far beyond national boundaries. Constitutional
and legal ambiguity, plus reticence on the part of leaders of national
governments to pay the political price for challenging certain state and
provincial actions, may further broaden the scope of activities open to these
non-central governments.
The International Activities of State and Provincial Governments
In 1994, 39 states and Puerto Rico operated 162 foreign offices in 25 different
countries, a dramatic increase from the four states which maintained overseas
offices in 1970 and the 66 offices which had been opened by states in 1986.30 In
addition, 49 states offer export outreach or counseling to local businesses, 42
participate in “trade lead” matching programs, 41 are involved in joint venture
agreements which assist businesses to become involved in international
commerce, 38 sponsor trade development seminars and conferences, 21
publish international newsletters, and an equal number provide export
financing, mainly in the form of loan guarantees.31 In 1993, governors from 27
states and territories also directed 81 trips abroad for economic development
purposes. Some governors have been especially active in the international
arena. Between January 1991 and February 1995, Massachusetts Governor
William F. Weld and Lieutenant-Governor Argeo P. Cellucci directed trade and
investment missions to 19 countries, accompanied by representatives of 242
Massachusetts- based companies.32 Weld also authorized special economic
76
cooperation agreements with Guangdong province in China, the northern
Japanese island of Hokkaido, and the state of Karnataka, home to India’s
version of Silicon Valley.33
Overall state spending on international programs was 87.2 million dollars
(U.S.) in 1994, exclusive of funding for IDI incentive programs and special
revenue bonds. The average state has opened 3.1 offices abroad with
approximately 2 people per office. The average expenditure per office is about
200,000 dollars (U.S.).34 Trade offices located within each state employed
about 600 additional personnel, for a total of approximately 950 either at home
or abroad.35
State governments have become much more actively involved in promoting
international trade, investment and tourism over the past decade, but their
staffing and expenditures pale in comparison to the Canadian provinces.
Ontario suddenly closed its 17 overseas offices during the premiership of Bob
Rae, leaving approximately 35 offices opened by Quebec, Alberta and British
Columbia. In fiscal year 1990-91, when Ontario still maintained offices
abroad, the government spent 27.6 million dollars (CAN) for these offices, and
Alberta spent 9.7 million dollars (CAN), for an average expenditure per office
of 1.6 million dollars (CAN). Factoring in exchange-rate differences, these two
provinces spent more than six times as much per office as the U.S. states.36
Premier Rae gambled that the loss of direct representation abroad could be
offset by a large trade staff in Toronto, closer cooperation with federal trade
officials, and goodwill ambassadors in the private sector. Even after shutting
down its overseas offices, Ontario continues to employ over 80 people who
devote their time almost exclusively to international trade, investment and
political activities, about equal to the domestic-based international staffs of
California and New York combined.37 Ontario also budgeted 34.4 million
dollars (CAN) for its Trade, Investment and International Relations program
and for the Ontario International Trade Corporation, more than California’s,
New York’s, Michigan’s, Pennsylvania’s, and Ohio’s international programs
combined.38 Alberta budgeted approximately 6 million dollars (CAN) for its
Federal and Intergovernmental Affairs department in fiscal year 1995-96, with
a portion of this budget going for international programs. In addition, 20.6
million dollars (CAN) was budgeted for Alberta’s Tourism, Trade and
Investment division.39 The British Columbia Trade Development Corporation
represents the province in its international economic activities and had a 17.9
million dollar (CAN) budget for fiscal year 1994-95.40
Without any doubt, the world’s foremost proponent of non-central government
activity in the international sphere is Quebec. The government of Quebec has
more offices opened overseas, more staff devoted to international activities,
and more money appropriated for international pursuits than the nine other
provinces combined. Even more surprisingly, Quebec spends more and has a
larger international staff than all 50 U.S. states combined. The proposed budget
for le Ministère des Affaires internationales, de l’Immigration et des
Communautés culturelles was 223.4 million dollars (CAN) in the 1995-96
fiscal year, compared with 87.2 million dollars (U.S.) for the international
programs supported by the 50 state governments. Quebec’s department also
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IJCS / RIÉC
supported 2,023 personnel, compared to about 950 for the 50 state
governments. Almost 118 million dollars (CAN) of the department’s budget
was to be devoted exclusively to “international affairs promotion and
development,” with a staff of 853.41
In an effort to balance its annual budget, the Quebec government has recently
cut back some overseas offices and has even placed some facilities within
Canadian embassies.42 Moreover, part of the expenses incurred by the
provincial government is tied to Quebec stationing its own immigration
officers abroad, an effort intended to attract Francophones to a province in
which over 80 percent of the residents currently speak French as their first
language. Even with the recent office closings, Quebec continues to support a
network of 24 delegations, bureaus or trade branches in 18 countries.43
The Potential Problems Associated With State and Provincial
Government Involvement Overseas
As will be discussed in the last section, many of the international activities
sponsored by state and provincial governments are worthwhile and will
contribute to the economic competitiveness of their respective nation-states
and North America in general. Nevertheless, some of these activities may be
counterproductive and detract from the best interests of their nations. The
following are significant issues that should be addressed in these two North
American federal systems.
1) The ability of Canada and the United States to speak with “one voice” on
key international issues
Periodically, policy positions or actions taken by provincial, state and local
governments have been at variance with the international priorities of Ottawa
or Washington, D.C. Following the downing of the Korean Airlines passenger
jet in 1983 by Soviet aircraft, 15 states imposed a temporary embargo on the
sale of Soviet spirits. In 1986, the governors of Maine, Massachusetts and
Vermont refused to authorize the sending of their National Guard units for
training exercises in Honduras. Congress reacted by passing a law prohibiting
state leaders from taking this action, and in a legal challenge mounted by a
group of states, the Supreme Court decided in favour of Washington’s position.
In this case, 29 state governors filed an amicus brief supporting the federal
government’s position, whereas seven backed the right of governors to decide
when and where National Guard units would be deployed in times of peace. In a
related issue, several non-central governments also provided “sanctuary” for
illegal immigrants from Central America, an action in direct violation of
federal immigration laws.
More than 120 cities and counties have also passed resolutions banning nuclear
weapons production within their boundaries. The U.S. Department of Justice
filed a successful suit in 1989 challenging the constitutionality of one such
ordinance approved by the voters of Oakland, California. The suit claimed that
Oakland’s statute seriously undermined “the ability of the United States’ navy
to supply, repair, and maintain fleet units operating throughout the Pacific
region,” and substantially impaired “the ability of the U.S. Department of
78
Energy to oversee and manage nuclear materials research.” The Oakland
ordinance was adopted by referendum and prohibited the manufacture or
storage of nuclear weapons, and imposed restrictions on the transportation of
radioactive materials through the city. The Pentagon was especially upset by
this municipal action because one of the navy’s most important supply depots is
located in Oakland. Defense officials were also upset when Maine voters
approved a citizen’s initiative in 1989 banning cruise-missile testing over the
state, but this initiative was non-binding and could simply be ignored by federal
authorities.
In July 1991, President George Bush announced that the federal government’s
major economic sanctions against South Africa would be lifted, but two years
later, more than 160 state, county and municipal governments continued to
impose restrictions on investment and related business activity with South
Africa.44 Many restrictions prohibited public pension funds from investing in
companies that did business in South Africa. With about one trillion dollars
(U.S.) in assets, public pension funds have been an important source of capital
for many companies and prompted them to refrain from establishing business
ties with South Africa. Other non-central governments disqualified companies
that did business with South Africa from bidding on public contracts tendered
by these governments.
Alberta and Texas have sent observers to OPEC meetings for many years,
hoping to influence supply and pricing decisions opposed by their respective
national governments. In the early 1980s, Alberta’s representatives engaged in
advocacy missions to Washington, D.C. with the intention of coordinating
policy to modify or completely abolish Canada’s National Energy Policy. And,
during late 1995 and early 1996, the governments of British Columbia and
Quebec interacted directly with U.S. government negotiators and U.S. industry
groups in an effort to solve the long-standing softwood lumber dispute.45 In
1989, Texas Agricultural Commissioner Jim Hightower organized the
shipment of 18 tons of Texas-grown, hormone-free beef to Great Britain. This
occurred at a time when Washington and the European Commission were
engaged in a bitter dispute over American shipments of hormone-treated beef
to the European Community. Hightower’s action was roundly criticized by the
U.S. federal government, the American chemical industry and even the Texas
Farm Bureau. The U.S. Department of Agriculture initially refused to certify
that the meat was drug-free, but finally acquiesced and allowed European
inspectors to offer the necessary certification.46
Taiwan, which is not officially recognized by the U.S. government as a
sovereign nation-state, has also gone the non-central government route in an
effort to bolster its image and official status in the United States. Many
representatives of non-central governments have been invited to visit Taiwan,
and lucrative contracts have been negotiated between Taiwan and
businesspersons belonging to trade and investment delegations directed by
state government leaders. Taiwan’s U.S. representatives also keep close track
of developments at the subnational level through a network of 13 regional
offices in the United States. Up until mid-1995, 24 state legislatures had passed
resolutions asking that Taiwan receive the same treatment as other nation79
IJCS / RIÉC
states.47 Bill Clinton also made four separate trips to Taiwan during his tenure
as governor of Arkansas, the first occurring in 1979, the same year that the U.S.
government broke off official diplomatic relations with Taiwan.48
This anecdotal evidence of friction between national and non-central
governments on international issues does not mean that Washington or Ottawa
is losing control over the most vitally important items on the foreign policy
agenda. Nevertheless, both growing interdependence and intermestic politics
will tend to provoke periodic clashes and will continue to complicate the efforts
of these national capitals to speak with a unified voice on foreign policy.
2) The duplication of services and costs
Although budgets are being pared in Washington and Ottawa, both national
governments continue to offer a wide range of services linked to promoting
exports and attracting IDI and foreign tourists. The Canadian government
employs 600 trade commissioners in 128 foreign posts, and the U.S.
government has commercial and economics officers in most of its 260
embassies and consulates serving 170 countries.49 Moreover, even those
groups strongly in favour of political decentralization in the two nations argue
for a strong federal role in maintaining barrier-free interstate and
interprovincial trade.50 Thus, must state and provincial governments maintain
200 offices abroad in countries already serviced by their own embassies and
consulates? Many states and provinces also concentrate offices in the same
major cities. At the beginning of the 1990s, more American states had opened
offices in the Tokyo region than in Washington, D.C. Each state and provincial
government should sponsor hard-nosed private studies on the costs and
benefits of its international programs, especially the maintenance of foreign
offices and export financing for small and medium-sized businesses. Some
Canadian provinces also experienced the “parallel embassy” phase in which
political appointees wanted to be treated as parallel ambassadors and allowed to
spend accordingly. Reaction against this profligacy helps explain the shutdown
of all of Ontario’s overseas offices in 1993 and some of Quebec’s offices over
the past two years. This does not necessarily mean that international programs
sponsored by state and provincial governments are inherently wasteful. Indeed,
an Illinois official has claimed that 1,200 European subsidiaries have settled in
the state as a result of Illinois’ European offices and international trade
missions. One British Columbian official has asserted that the provincial
government’s office in Irvine, California has generated 150 million dollars
(U.S.) in business since 1989. If these statements are accurate, then spending
levels for certain programs may actually be too low.51 Nonetheless, these noncentral governments should take a closer look at the effectiveness of each
international program and then channel their scarce resources into the most
efficient services.52 Moreover, this review should include ways to work more
closely with federal agencies and to coordinate activities with neighbouring,
non-central governments, municipal governments, and with the private sector.53
3) Wasteful investment incentive programs
The attraction of IDI is considered by the sixty state and provincial
governments as a “zero-sum” game, where there can be only one winner and
80
everyone else, the loser. Cut-throat competition occurs in this area and rarely do
state and provincial governments cooperate in an effort to bring IDI to their
regions.
A case study of foreign automakers who establish plants in North America will
aptly illustrate the wastefulness of incentive packages which now cost noncentral governments billions of dollars (U.S.) per year in either foregone tax
revenues or direct taxpayer-financed subsidies. By 1998, transplant operations
run by foreign automakers will have the capacity to manufacture over four
million cars and light trucks in North America.54 Almost all of these companies
have located in North America in order to maintain and enhance their market
share in the face of currency fluctuations and escalating unit labour costs back
in their home countries. Nevertheless, because of competition among noncentral government units in the U.S. and Canadian federal systems, these
companies have received billions of dollars in investment incentives, even
though they were primarily motivated to establish facilities in the U.S. or
Canada in order to remain competitive, and would have come to North America
without any incentives whatsoever.
In 1980, Nissan decided to build a plant in Tennessee. It received tax breaks and
other incentives equivalent to 11,000 dollars (U.S.) for every job to be created
by the company. In 1984, Mazda located in Michigan with incentives worth
13,900 dollars per job; Diamond Star went to Illinois in 1985 with incentives
worth 33,300 dollars; Toyota went to Kentucky in 1985 with a package worth
49,900 dollars per new job; BMW went to South Carolina in 1992 with a 65,000
dollars per job package; and Mercedes-Benz decided in 1994 to build in
Alabama with a package estimated at 200,000 dollars per new job.55
Alabama’s list of incentives are expected to cost 250 to 300 million dollars
(U.S.), at a time when the state is under federal court order to spend an
additional 500 million dollars (U.S.) per year to upgrade its public school
system.56 Alabama is gambling that the presence of Mercedes-Benz will open
the floodgate for other big foreign and domestic companies to locate huge
manufacturing facilities in the state. Indeed, the U.S. South, once the backwater
of the American economy, attracted one-third of all new foreign-owned plants
in 1987 and 57 percent in 1994, often using the same strategy adopted by
Alabama with Mercedes-Benz: low wages, direct financial assistance and
major tax exemptions.57 Many parts of the South are booming economically
and the income gap between that region and the rest of the country has narrowed
substantially. Nevertheless, the trend toward escalating incentive packages in
order to attract IDI, under conditions in which this IDI would enter the United
States without any incentives at all, is worrisome. Canada has faced the same
dilemma with joint federal-provincial packages offered by Ottawa, Ontario and
Quebec to U.S. and other foreign automakers.58
4) The escalation of “poaching” activities
State, provincial and local governments are increasingly involved in poaching
activities. In other words, they attempt to lure businesses away from other
jurisdictions in their own country or on either side of the 49th parallel. Thirtyfour state governments once maintained full-time staff in California to lure
businesses away or to entice them to expand elsewhere.59 Over two dozen state,
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provincial, county and municipal governments have maintained offices in the
Los Angeles region, including British Columbia’s very productive office in
Orange County. A half dozen states sponsor offices in Toronto, and the
representative of Georgia’s office claims to have attracted 135 million dollars
(CAN) in Canadian direct investment to Georgia over a two-year period.60 A
suburban community in the Toronto region, Scarborough, also lost 120 new
jobs to be provided by a Canadian fiber-board company because Buffalo and
the state of New York offered the Canadian firm tax incentives and cheaper
land and power rates. Buffalo’s municipal government is permitted to offer tax
and other incentives to attract new businesses, whereas Ontario’s
municipalities are prohibited by the provincial government from doing the
same.61 The government of New Brunswick, the Saskatoon Regional
Economic Development Authority, and a plethora of U.S. state and local
governments are among the non-central units spending a good deal of time in
post- referendum Quebec, hoping to capitalize on the political and economic
uncertainty within that province and to entice Quebec-based businesses to
leave or at least to expand their operations elsewhere.62
One might argue that it is in the best “national” economic interest of a country to
poach businesses away from other countries, although the joint membership of
the United States and Canada in NAFTA may water down this contention. The
argument totally lacks merit when poaching occurs within the same nation. The
rush to attract and then to maintain mobile companies is costing taxpayers far
too much, with 45 states now offering tax incentives and 79 percent of major
companies responding to a KPMG Peat Marwick survey stating that they are
the recipients of state and local government incentives.63 Such policies place
existing businesses which do not receive incentives at a competitive
disadvantage, and often deprive school districts and other public functions of
future tax revenues. This war among subnational governments to attract and
maintain businesses may lead to a leveling down of wages, work conditions and
services, with a costly impact on the nation in the long run.
5) Protectionism and subsidies
As discussed briefly in an earlier section, provincial government protectionism
and subsidies continue to distort the movement of goods and services in
Canada’s national market. Although an interprovincial agreement put into
effect in 1995 will begin to eliminate some of these distortions, many will
remain. For example, the provincial government of Ontario has informed its
municipalities that if they want to receive a provincial subsidy to purchase new
buses, they must buy buses constructed by a company in Ontario instead of bus
manufacturers in Manitoba or Quebec. This type of government procurement
restriction is repeated on a regular basis in most Canadian provinces.64
Many U.S. state and municipal governments also have protectionist policies,
especially in terms of government procurement codes. In 1996, state and local
governments expended 128 billion dollars (U.S.) for structures, 27 billion
dollars (U.S.) for equipment, and 34 billion dollars (U.S.) for services other
than employee compensation, so procurement limitations can be costly for
companies placed at a competitive disadvantage.65 As of 1992, 16 state
governments had Buy America provisions, such as Georgia restricting state
82
agencies to buying beef raised in the United States, or Kansas permitting its
director of purchases to reject products manufactured or assembled outside the
United States.66 In addition, 37 states had Buy In-State procurement
preferences in one of three forms: those that prefer in-state bidders when all else
is equal (a “tie-bid” preference); those that give a percentage preference to instate bidders or to those willing to use in-state products (a “percentage”
preference); and those that prefer in-state bidders over bidders from other states
that provide a preference to their own in-state bidders (a “reciprocal”
preference).67
As mentioned previously, both the NAFTA and the Uruguay Round
agreements subject national and subnational government policies to scrutiny
by NAFTA and WTO panels. For the first time ever, these supranational bodies
will have the right to examine a wide range of non-central government
procurement codes, export subsidy schemes, investment incentive packages,
and other economic development policies, and then determine whether they
impede or distort cross-border trade and investment flows. If a non-central
government’s policy were found to impede continental or international
commerce, then Washington or Ottawa would bear the responsibility for
convincing this subnational unit to change its policy or the nation would face
penalties. This increased interaction between international, national, and noncentral units will in some cases lead to further harmonization of economic
policies, and in others, to further strains between national and non-central
governments.
On the other hand, one should not overly emphasize protectionist tendencies at
the subnational levels. Some of the provincial governments were much more
ardent advocates of the Canada-U.S. Free Trade Agreement (FTA) and
NAFTA than many members of the Canadian House of Commons and Senate.
In addition, 42 governors supported the ratification of NAFTA at a time when
Democrats held a majority of the governors’ mansions. In contrast, Democratic
party majorities in both the House of Representatives and Senate voted against
NAFTA. A short time later, support grew much stronger among the governors
for the ratification of the Uruguay Round accord than among legislators on
Capitol Hill in Washington, even though both NAFTA and the Uruguay Round
accord would involve much closer scrutiny of state government policies by
NAFTA and WTO panels.
6) The Quebec dilemma
Quebec is the leading non-central government international actor in the world,
with its 7.2 million people spending more in absolute terms to be involved
internationally than the 50 U.S. states representing 267 million people.
Especially when the Parti Québécois is in power, but even at times under
Quebec Liberal party leadership, the Quebec government has locked horns
with Ottawa over international pursuits and jurisdictions. Periodically,
conflicts continue to arise over Quebec’s role in the French Commonwealth, or
La Francophonie. At the Benin meeting of La Francophonie in December 1995,
47 countries were represented, as well as Quebec and New Brunswick which
were accorded the status of “participating governments.” During the
conference, the Quebec government opened a new cultural center in Benin’s
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capital city, Cotonou. Vice Premier Bernard Landry stressed at the time that
“Quebec is not sovereign. We lost the referendum. Our status has not changed
at the legal or institutional level. But everyone knows that the probability of
Quebec very soon becoming sovereign is very high and obviously that changes
the perspective and how Quebec is regarded.”68
Quebec’s representation abroad is also unique among non-central
governments because of the special status accorded to its delegation in Paris by
the French government, and the regular exchange of visits between France’s
prime minister and Quebec’s premier. Under Jacques Parizeau’s leadership,
the Quebec government also decided to open a “tourist” office in Washington,
D.C., breaking an unofficial agreement between Ottawa and the provinces
prohibiting any permanent provincial presence in America’s national capital.
The office was also headed by a political appointee well known for her strong
support for Quebec’s sovereignty.69
During the heated 1995 referendum campaign, Landry objected to statements
emanating from the White House and the State Department expressing
uncertainty about Quebec’s future inclusion in NAFTA if Quebec’s voters
supported the sovereignty option. Disappointed with what he perceived as
blatant U.S. government interference in Quebec’s domestic affairs prior to a
critical referendum vote, Landry dispatched a terse letter to Washington,
asserting that Secretary of State Warren Christopher had crossed the line of
strict neutrality and warning that if “victory eludes the Yes side by a slim
margin, as is plausible, those who did vote Yes—a clear majority of
Francophone Quebecers—will be tempted to assign responsibility to the
United States for part of their profound disappointment. I do not know how
many decades it will take to dispel that feeling.”70 Perhaps some residue of
bitterness will remain among the most ardent supporters of the “yes” option in
the referendum campaign, but most Quebeckers will shrug off the incident and
will continue to look southward for the bulk of their foreign commercial
linkages.
Has Quebec’s extensive international role been critical in the push for
sovereignty? At best, the impact has been modest. When the Quebec Liberal
party is in power, Quebec’s delegations around the world generally perform the
same functions as those from any other province or state, with the notable
exception of immigration duties and the more political and cultural presence in
France and some other Francophone nations. Even under a PQ government,
most of the time is still devoted to economic, immigration and cultural
activities. The experience gained from maintaining such a highly visible and
costly presence abroad will undoubtedly be a positive factor if Quebec ever
separates from Canada, but the overall influence of the international dimension
on drumming up external support for Quebec’s sovereignty remains moderate.
Above all, Quebec City anticipated strong political support from France and
major commercial links between Quebec and the old mother country. In reality,
French political support has been guarded at best and the commercial ties have
been disappointing, partially due to France’s preoccupation with economic
developments within the European Union, its desire to avoid tense relations
with Ottawa, and its concern that overt support for Quebec’s cause might
84
prompt a few nations to voice support for separatist aspirations in Corsica. In
the United States, Quebec’s vital foreign commercial partner, the PQ
government has hoped to achieve understanding from the business community
and neutrality from Washington. The U.S. business community is much less
hostile today to Quebec’s push for sovereignty than in 1980, but it clearly
supports a united Canada within the framework of NAFTA. Washington is also
less concerned than in 1980 when the Cold War was still raging and some
considered René Lévesque’s Quebec as potentially the new “Cuba of the
North.” Nonetheless, Bill Clinton made several forceful statements in his
official visit to Ottawa in February 1995, and even during the referendum
campaign, in favour of Canadian unity. Washington clearly considers that U.S.
political and commercial interests would be better served by Canada remaining
united for the foreseeable future.71
An Overall Assessment of the International Involvement of the U.S.
States and Canadian Provinces
In general, non-central governments have acted appropriately by expanding
their activities abroad in an era of growing global interdependence and
overlapping domestic and international issues. If pursued wisely, this
international activism can accentuate local, national and continental economic
competitiveness in North America.
Without any doubt, small and medium-sized businesses must become globally
competitive, and state and provincial governments can hasten this process. The
U.S. Department of Commerce estimates that 63 percent of all U.S. exports are
made by transnational corporations, many of them large enterprises.72 The
Department of Foreign Affairs and International Trade in Ottawa has asserted
that 50 Canadian companies account for 50 percent of all Canadian exports, and
many of these companies are foreign-controlled TNCs.73 In the United States,
the Fortune 500 companies have shed 4.5 million jobs since 1980, whereas
small and medium-sized entities, now numbering in the millions, have added
over 30 million new employment opportunities.74 Job growth will depend on
the future competitiveness of these smaller enterprises and their ability to
capture national, continental and global markets. Most firms are still not
involved in export activity or in joint venture operations with foreign partners.
State, provincial and local governments, working in cooperation with their
federal governments and private agencies, can contribute to the international
success of these smaller businesses.
Furthermore, state and provincial governments bear the primary responsibility
for nurturing North America’s most important resource, the human resource.
Both nations must do a far better job in the area of primary and secondary
education. Greater emphasis must be placed on teaching reading, math, and
computer skills, geography, foreign languages, intercultural relations and other
topics germane to the world of the twenty-first century. Vocational education
and apprenticeships must also be developed for young people who do not go on
to colleges or universities, and continuous learning must become a fact of life
for a labour force constantly adapting to rapid changes in technology and the
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overall working environment. National competitiveness begins at the local
level, and gives credence to the notion of “thinking globally and acting locally.”
Nonetheless, global interdependence and international activism on the part of
non-central governments will continue to complicate the decision-making and
decision-implementing processes in North America. This will necessitate
much greater collaboration between all levels of government. Ottawa has done
a much better job in maintaining a dialogue with non-central government
leaders than has Washington, with the notable exception of strained relations
with Quebec. Provincial governments were consulted extensively in the FTA,
NAFTA and Uruguay Round negotiations, and both levels of government
performed moderately well in an effort to eliminate interprovincial trade
barriers. In contrast, consultations between the federal and state governments
in Washington have been sporadic at best, and governors have often
complained about the lack of intergovernmental dialogue on international
issues which may have profound effects on their local constituents. Hopefully,
the NAFTA and WTO review processes will promote more federal-state
discussions, although representatives of the Western Governors’ Association
have recently complained that only one of 16 NAFTA committees and
subcommittees to which state representatives were named has actually held
consultations with state officials. Moreover, no effort has been made to name
state representatives to the harmonization committees established under the
auspices of the Uruguay Round.75 Some states have also been upset with the
process put in place by Washington to help shield state policies and regulations
from NAFTA challenges under the new services and investment codes.76
In conclusion, state and provincial governments must carefully scrutinize their
international activities and eliminate ineffective or duplicative programs.
Intergovernmental cooperation involving federal, state or provincial and
municipal governments must also be strengthened, with the “Team Canada”
approach, which brought together the prime minister, most provincial
premiers, and many business leaders for trade missions to Latin America,
China and South Asia, serving as a useful model. This cooperation, with the
tacit approval of Ottawa and Washington, can also reach across the 49th
parallel, as neighbouring states and provinces consider ventures leading to
economic benefits for their entire region. The New England governors and
Eastern Canadian premiers have met once a year for over two decades and have
worked out cooperative programs linked to joint tourism promotion, joint
environmental studies, etc. The Pacific Northwest Economic Region also
brings together neighbouring states and provinces in an effort to enhance
economic development on both sides of the border.77 Such cooperative efforts
should help to conserve the financial resources of non-central governments
while enhancing the economic well-being of their constituents.
In the foreseeable future, one must anticipate that non-central governments in
Canada and the United States will expand their international activities,
although this will ebb and flow based on budget pressures, developments in the
continental and global economies, the idiosyncrasies of subnational leaders,
the political and strategic priorities of national leaders, and the degree of
cooperation forged between national and non-central government units.
86
Undoubtedly, the world is destined to become increasingly interdependent and
people at the grassroots level will become more cognizant of how continental
and international developments influence their daily lives. This awareness will
be a major motivator for state and provincial governments to become actively
engaged in a plethora of issues and activities which transcend national
boundaries and which increasingly intermingle subnational, national and
global transactions.
Notes
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
Traditionally, “international relations” has been depicted as interactions among the
leadership of national governments, with the ultimate goal of the national government being
to protect and enhance the “national interests” of the nation-state in a rather turbulent and
even anarchic international system. In other words, nations do not have permanent friends;
rather, they have permanent interests. Richard Neustadt, in his work on the Suez Crisis of
1956, and Graham Allison, in his work on the Cuban Missile Crisis of 1962, were among the
first scholars to chip away at this simplified notion of international relations consisting of
linkages between leaders of nation-states. Robert Keohane and Joseph Nye have gone one
step further, and were among the first scholars to question the prevailing wisdom that
international relations consist almost exclusively of relations among national governments.
They referred to official exchanges between representatives of national governments as
“interstate interactions,” but insisted that there are other important international linkages,
including “transgovernmental interactions” which link subunits of different governments,
and “transnational interactions” which refer to the movement of tangible and non-tangible
items across national boundaries when at least one actor is not an agent of a government.
For non-specialists in international relations, a good summary of evolving theory in the field,
including liberal idealism, realism, behavioralism, and neoliberalism, is found in Charles W.
Kegley, Jr., and Eugene R. Wittkopf, World Politics: Trend and Transformation, 6th edition
(New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1997), pp. 16-37. Also consult Charles W. Kegley, Jr., ed.,
Controversies in International Relations Theory: Realism and the Neoliberal Challenge
(New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1995), and Robert K. Schaeffer, Understanding
Globalization (Lanham, Maryland: Rowman and Littlefield, 1997). For the earlier work
cited above, see Richard Neustadt, Alliance Politics (New York: Columbia University Press,
1970), Graham Allison, Essence of Decision (Boston: Little, Brown, 1971), and three
publications by Keohane and Nye, “Transgovernmental Relations and International
Organization,” World Politics 27 (1974), Transnational Relations and World Politics
(Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1972), and Power and Interdependence: World
Politics in Transition (Boston: Little, Brown, 1977).
Keith Highet and George Kahale III, “International Decisions,” American Journal of
International Law 88 (October 1994): 766-775.
See the United Nations Development Program, Human Development Report, annual edition
(New York: Oxford University Press).
In November 1997, the Canadian dollar was worth approximately 72 U.S. cents. GDP
figures are estimates for calendar year 1997.
Anne O. Krueger, American Trade Policy: A Tragedy in the Making (Washington, D.C.:
AEI Press, 1995), p. 10. The author uses statistics compiled by GATT, and these figures have
been updated to include 1994 data. Also see the World Trade Organization, WTO Focus
Newsletter, May 1996, p. 2.
OECD, Financial Market Trends, June 1995, p. 11. International direct investment provides
an investor in one country with a controlling interest in a company located in another
country.
These statistics are provided by the Madrid-based World Tourism Organization and are
based on 1994 data. Revenues do not include the costs of international transportation. See the
Wall Street Journal, January 3, 1995, p. 7.
Department of Foreign Affairs and International Trade, Canada’s International Market
Access Priorities (Ottawa: Queen’s Printer, 1997), p. 7.
87
IJCS / RIÉC
9.
10.
11.
12.
13.
14.
15.
16.
17.
18.
19.
20.
21.
22.
23.
24.
25.
26.
88
Tourism Industries, International Trade Administration, U.S. Department of Commerce, at
http://tinet.ita.doc.gov/rec_pay.htm. Expenditures include fares collected by air carriers.
Department of Foreign Affairs and International Trade, Canada’s International Market, p.
3.
Data provided by Statistics Canada and the U.S. Department of Commerce. See John Robert
Colombo, ed., The 1996 Canadian Global Almanac (Toronto: Macmillan Canada, 1996), p.
210, Statistics Canada, Travel-log, Spring 1995, p. 8, Survey of Current Business, August
1995, pp. 80-82. All data are for 1994.
Financial Post (Toronto), June 3, 1995, p. 7.
Finance Minister Paul Martin’s deficit-reduction efforts are based in part on a significant
diminution in transfer payments to the provincial governments, with seven billion dollars
(CAN) to be pared from health, welfare and post-secondary education transfers in the two
year period beginning April 1, 1996. In the United States, federal grants-in-aid and other
transfers have increased in absolute dollar terms and often account for from 25 to 40 percent
of spending by individual states, but much of the funding is restricted to escalating Medicaid
and social welfare expenditures. See the New York Times, January 31, 1996, p. A1.
William J. Zeile, “U.S. Intrafirm Trade in Goods,” Survey of Current Business, February
1997, pp. 32-33.
A survey conducted by the U.S. Department of Commerce in 1991 found that workers
employed by foreign-owned establishments earned 23 percent more than those employed by
U.S.-owned companies. See the San Francisco Chronicle, January 9, 1995, p. B1.
Washington Post, January 20, 1996, p. A9.
Kristin A. Hansen and Carol S. Faber, “The Foreign-Born Population, 1996,” Current
Population Reports, March 1997, at http://www.census.gov/prod/2/pop/p20/p20-494.pdf.
Globe and Mail, January 11, 1996, p. A16, January 15, 1996, p. A13, and January 20, 1996,
p. A4.
Council of State Governments, Book of the States, 1994-95 (Lexington, KY: Council of
State Governments, 1994), pp. 101-102.
Council of State Governments, Book of the States, 1996-97 (Lexington, KY: Council of
State Governments, 1996), p. 319. Employment figures were applicable in October 1993.
These estimates are based on the most recent GDP figures for nations, states and provinces,
with data varying from 1992 to 1995. GDP is based on actual production at current exchange
rates, and does not include purchasing power parity (PPP) estimates.
Council of State Governments, Book of the States, 1996-97, p. 240, and Department of
Finance, Government of Canada, The Economic and Fiscal Update, October 15, 1997, p. 61.
U.S. estimates are for 1994 and only include expenditures from the general fund of each
state.
Richard B. Bilder, “The Role of States and Cities in Foreign Relations,” American Journal of
International Law 83 (October 1989): 823-824, and Harold G. Maier, “Preemption of State
Law: A Recommended Analysis,” American Journal of International Law 83 (October
1989): 832-839.
Douglas M. Brown, “The Evolving Role of the Provinces in Canada-U.S. Trade Relations,”
in Douglas M. Brown and Earl H. Fry, eds., States and Provinces in the International
Economy (Berkeley: Institute of Governmental Studies Press, University of California; and
Kingston: Institute of Governmental Relations, Queen’s University, 1993), p. 97. Please
also consult Ivan Bernier and André Binette, Les provinces canadiennes et le commerce
international (Québec: Centre québécois de relations internationales, 1988).
Globe and Mail, November 30, 1995, p. B4. The Agreement on Internal Trade reached in
1994 and implemented in 1995 was weakened substantially when provisions governing
energy and procurement by government-linked agencies and institutions were removed
from the final draft.
An excellent rendition of the Quebec City-Ottawa dispute is found in Ivan Bernier,
International Legal Aspects of Federalism (Hamden, Conn.: Archon Books, 1973), pp. 5164. Other cases cited by Quebec City included The Liquidators of the Maritime Bank of
Canada v. The Receiver-General of New Brunswick (1892) and Bonanza Creek Gold
Mining Company Limited v. The King (1916). Also consult A. Kim Campbell, “Federalism
and International Relations: The Canadian Experience,” American Society of International
Law Proceedings 85 (1991): 127.
27.
28.
29.
30.
31.
32.
33.
34.
35.
36.
37.
38.
39.
40.
41.
42.
43.
44.
45.
46.
47.
48.
49.
50.
51.
For more details on this turbulent period of the 1960s, see Bernier, International Legal
Aspects, and Paul Painchaud, ed., Le Canada et le Québec sur la scène internationale
(Québec: Centre québécois de relations internationales, 1977).
Gordon Mace, Louis Bélanger and Ivan Bernier, “Canadian Foreign Policy and Quebec,” in
Maxwell A. Cameron and Maureen Appel Molot, eds., Canada Among Nations 1995
(Ottawa: Carleton University Press, 1995), pp. 125-126.
Ivan Bernier, “Remarks,” American Society of International Law Proceedings 85 (1991):
134.
National Association of State Development Agencies, State Export Program Database
Analysis, 1994 (Washington, D.C.: NASDA, 1996), pp. 12-13.
Ibid., pp. 5-10.
Boston Globe, February 18, 1995, p. 21.
New York Times, February 19, 1995, I, p. 3. Karnataka’s capital city, Bangalore, is the center
of India’s computer and software industry.
National Association, State Export Program, p. 14 and Table 6.
Ibid., Table 6. One hundred and eleven of the overseas offices had contract employees who
are not full-time state personnel (p. 14). States reported a total of 905 staff members working
on international programs, but Maryland and Hawaii did not provide numbers for domestic
staff, and California, Idaho, Iowa, Kentucky, Massachusetts, Oklahoma and Washington
failed to report the number of personnel in overseas offices.
James Groen, “Intergovernmental Relations and the International Activities of Ontario and
Alberta.” Ph.D. dissertation submitted to the Department of Political Science, Queen’s
University, September 1995.
National Association, State Export Program, Table 5, and interview with representative of
Ontario’s International Trade Corporation, January 1996.
Ibid., Table 4, and Government of Ontario, Management Board Secretariat, Expenditure
Estimates 1995-96, vol. I (Toronto: Queen’s Printer, 1995), p. 84.
Government of Alberta, A Better Way II: A Blueprint for Building Alberta’s Future,
1995/96-1997/98, February 21, 1995. See the Federal and Intergovernmental Affairs and
Economic Development and Tourism sections.
Province of British Columbia, Ministry of Finance and Corporate Relations, Estimates
Fiscal Year Ending March 31, 1995 (Victoria: Crown Publications, 1994), p. 47.
Gouvernement du Québec, Conseil du Trésor, 1995-1996 Budget Estimates (Québec:
Gouvernement du Québec, 1995), pp. 3-1 to 3-5.
Expenditures for Quebec’s overseas offices in fiscal year 1988-89 were in the range of 27
million dollars (CAN). See Bernier, “Remarks,” p. 134.
Government of Quebec, “Quebec’s Network Abroad,” at http://www.mri.gouv.qc.ca/
dans_le_monde/reseau_an.htm. In addition, Quebec maintains its own immigration services
offices in Hong Kong, Damascus and Vienna.
The Investor Responsibility Research Center in Washington, D.C. claimed that
governments in 30 states, 109 cities and 39 counties and towns maintained sanctions against
companies doing business with South Africa. See the Wall Street Journal, September 27,
1993, p. A5.
See Groen, “Intergovernmental Relations,” and Globe and Mail, December 21, 1995, p. B1.
Alberta may have lost more than 60 billion dollars (CAN) in revenues as a result of the NEP
(consult Gordon Gibson, “The New West Will Define the New Canada,” Globe and Mail,
January 9, 1996, p. A17).
Economist, August 26, 1989, p. 79.
Wall Street Journal, May 16, 1995, pp. A1 and A5.
Los Angeles Times, June 8, 1995, pp. A1, A16, and A17.
Financial Post, January 13, 1996, pp. 1 and 2, and Daily Herald ((Provo, Utah), August 18,
1995, p. A3. According to the U.S. General Accounting Office, the number of U.S.
embassies and consulates increased by almost 30 over the past decade.
This is certainly the position of Preston Manning’s Reform party in Canada and Newt
Gingrich’s wing of the Republican party in the United States.
New York Times, October 16, 1994, III, p. 4. The claim was made by Illinois’ managing
director of European operations. The claim by the official from British Columbia is made in
the Orange County Business Journal, October 17, 1994, p. 1.
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52.
53.
54.
55.
56.
57.
58.
59.
60.
61.
62.
63.
64.
65.
66.
67.
68.
69.
70.
71.
72.
73.
74.
75.
90
For example, Ontario will experiment with a “business ambassador” program patterned after
one already operational in the United Kingdom. Business leaders who travel abroad will be
asked to spend an extra day or two promoting Ontario’s economy, with the provincial
government picking up the tab for these extra days in foreign cities. Only a select number of
ambassadors will be chosen and they will be paid one dollar (CAN) per year for their service
to the province. See the Globe and Mail, February 5, 1996, p. A1.
As an illustration, the Ontario government spends a great deal of money on its economic
development programs, but there are also as many as 30 separate economic development
offices just in the greater Toronto metropolitan region. Greater coordination among
provincial, regional and municipal governments in the area of economic development might
avoid duplicative efforts and higher government expenditures. See the Globe and Mail,
January 16, 1996, pp. A1 and A8.
Economist, January 6, 1996, pp. 53-54.
Charles J. Spindler, “Winners and Losers in Industrial Recruitment: Mercedes-Benz and
Alabama,” State and Local Government Review 26 (Fall 1994): 202.
Ibid., p. 199.
Ibid., p. 202, and State International Policy Network, State International Policies, October
1995, p. 3.
This effort to attract IDI goes on in many business sectors. As an illustration, the province of
New Brunswick attracted 900 jobs provided by United Parcel Service Canada, in part
because the provincial government was willing to offer a six million dollar (CAN)
“forgivable loan.” British Columbia’s Employment Minister, Glen Clark, accused New
Brunswick’s Premier, Frank McKenna, of “cravenly giving away money to big business to
raid jobs from other provinces.” See Canadian News Facts, January 1-15, 1995, pp. 50535054.
Washington Post, January 20, 1996, p. A1.
Globe and Mail, January 2, 1996, pp. A1 and A6.
Toronto Star, January 19, 1996, p. E1.
Ibid., January 8, 1996, p. B4, and interviews with U.S. state and local government officials.
Wall Street Journal, March 17, 1995, p. A10, and National Journal, November 11, 1995, p.
2820. The KPMG Peat Marwick survey included 200 major manufacturers, distributors, and
retailing firms with 300 million dollars (U.S.) or more in annual sales.
Toronto Star, December 2, 1995, p. C2.
Robert P. Parker and Eugene P. Seskin, “Annual Revision of the National Income and
Product Accounts,” Survey of Current Business, August 1997, pp. 66 and 68.
James D. Southwick, “Binding the States: A Survey of State Law Conformance with the
Standards of the GATT Procurement Code,” University of Pennsylvania Journal of
International Business Law 13 (Winter 1992): 73 and 74.
Ibid., p. 76.
Toronto Star, December 2, 1995, p. A20.
Mace, “Canadian Foreign Policy,” p. 127. The director of the office was Anne Legaré.
Gazette, October 26, 1995, p. A10.
For the author’s personal viewpoint on the future of U.S.-Quebec commercial relations, see
his testimony provided before the Committee on International Relations, Subcommittee on
the Western Hemisphere, U.S. House of Representatives, September 25, 1996. The
testimony was included in the Committee’s publication entitled The Issue of Quebec’s
Sovereignty and Its Potential Impact on the United States (Washington, D.C.: U.S.
Government Printing Office, 1996), pp. 59-67. For the opposite viewpoint, see Pierre-Paul
Proulx, “Some Comments on Earl Fry’s Discussion of the Economic Dimension of Quebec,
Canada, and United States Relations,” American Review of Canadian Studies 26 (Winter
1996): 607-618.
Wall Street Journal, September 27, 1993, p. A5.
Financial Post, January 13, 1996, pp. 1 and 2.
Philip Burgess estimates that there are 21 million business enterprises in the United States,
and only 14,000 have more than 500 employees. See the Rocky Mountain News, August 29,
1995, editorial page.
Inside NAFTA, November 29, 1995, p. 7.
76.
77.
The attorney general of Oregon has been especially vocal in his criticisms. See ibid.,
December 27, 1996, pp. 3-5, and November 29, 1995, p. 20. This process of exempting
certain state practices from NAFTA challenges was mandated in the NAFTA implementing
legislation passed by the U.S. Congress in 1993.
These cross-border cooperative programs are discussed in Brown and Fry, States and
Provinces.
91
André Joyal et Laurent Deshaies
Des PME québécoises en région face à la
mondialisation1
Résumé
Les Québécois se sont prononcés très majoritairement en faveur de l’Accord de
libre-échange avec les États-Unis. Ils reflétaient ainsi l’opinion de leur élite
économique pour qui l’ouverture des frontières ou la mondialisation présentait
plus d’avantages que d’inconvénients. Déjà, depuis quelques années une
minorité de PME avaient obtenu leurs lettres de noblesse sur les marchés
étrangers. D’autres n’allaient pas tarder à les suivre avec tout autant de
succès. Il n’en demeure cependant pas moins que trop peu de PME québécoises
profitent des possibilités offertes par le commerce international. Pour inciter
un plus grand nombre de PME à suivre la trace des pionniers, il importe de bien
identifier leurs facteurs de réussite. Mieux connaître ces PME constitue
l’objectif de cette recherche effectuée auprès de 38 entreprises toutes situées
dans le Québec central. Nous démontrons que les PME exportatrices, même de
petite taille, peuvent être identifiées comme des entreprises de classe mondiale
en vertu soit du caractère innovateur de leur produit principal, ou de leur
processus de production et de gestion, ou encore, en vertu de leurs stratégies
commerciales. Elles ont réussi à se situer favorablement sur le marché
américain grâce à un créneau particulier, généralement associé à ce que l’on
désigne comme étant le « manufacturier complexe ». Leur présence dans des
villages ou des petites villes démontre que l’entrepreneuriat est
particulièrement alerte et ne se trouve pas handicapé outre mesure par
l’éloignement des grands centres où s’exercent les effets de synergie
occasionnés autant par le nombre d’entreprises que par les centres de
recherche et les têtes de réseaux d’information.
Abstract
A vast majority of Quebecers supported the Free Trade Agreement with the
United States. In doing so, they agreed with their economic elite to open the
borders, or that globalization had more advantages than disadvantages. For
several years, a small number of SMBs had already proven their mettle on
foreign markets. Others would be quick to follow their example with equal
success. Nevertheless, too few Quebec SMBs are capitalizing on the
opportunities inherent in international trade. To encourage more SMBs to follow
the trail blazed by the pioneers, the factors of their success must be clearly
identified. The purpose of this research, involving 38 businesses based in central
Quebec, is to achieve a better understanding of these SMBs. We will show that
SMB operators, even the small in size, have achieved world-class business status
whether by the innovative nature of their key products, their production and
management processes or their business strategies. They have won an enviable
position on the American market by exploiting a specific segment, usually
associated with what is termed the “manufacturing complex.” Their activity in
IJCS / RIÉC
towns or small cities shows that entrepreneurship is particularly alert and not
unduly disadvantaged by remoteness from the large cities where the number
of companies and the presence of research centres and information network
leaders exert a synergetic effect.
La problématique de la PME exportatrice fait l’objet depuis une dizaine
d’années d’une documentation abondante (Misembock, 1988; Gibiat, 1994).
Pourtant, d’aucuns reconnaissent que les PME exportent trop peu (Julien et al.,
1997). Les explications de cet état de fait sont nombreuses. Hansen et al. (1994)
en retiennent trois. En premier lieu, la petite dimension des entreprises limite
leur connaissance et leur confiance envers les occasions que présente le marché
à l’étranger. De cette situation découle une absence d’économie d’échelle dans
la production dont bénéficient les plus grandes entreprises lesquelles peuvent
plus facilement s’engager dans des stratégies de marketing international.
Enfin, l’insuffisance de ressources manageriales et financières constitue une
entrave à un engagement soutenu sur les marchés étrangers. Ces considérations
rejoignent celles de Librowicz (1996) pour qui un dirigeant d’une petite
entreprise peut ressentir un sentiment d’insécurité en présence d’une
commande venant de l’extérieur du pays. La volonté de bien conserver le
contrôle de l’entreprise suscite les hésitations face aux sollicitations du marché
international. L’absence d’un responsable administratif spécialement affecté à
la fonction exportation représente un handicap difficile à surmonter. De son
côté, Pagé (1994) signale le manque de préparation des employés, un
financement insuffisant, un soutien local inadéquat de même qu’une vision
trop restreinte des entrepreneurs. Autant de considérations déjà mises en
évidence par Coerwinkel et Raidelet (1990) ainsi que par Bourgeois (1991)
alors que Côté (1992) retient surtout l’état de la concurrence, les coûts de
transport, les exigences administratives et l’absence de relations d’affaires.
Ces écueils, comme l’indique une étude de l’OCDE (1995), n’empêchent pas
bon nombre de PME de s’implanter de façon durable sur un ou plusieurs
marchés extérieurs. C’est particulièrement vrai dans le secteur du vêtement, du
cuir, de la métallurgie et des produits divers où l’on assiste à des performances
qui n’ont rien à envier à celles des grandes entreprises. Qu’en est-il au Québec?
Suite à l’adoption de l’Accord de libre-échange (ALÉ) avec les États-Unis,
suivi de l’ALÉNA incluant le Mexique, il y avait lieu de s’interroger sur les
conséquences de l’ouverture des frontières sur les PME. Les préoccupations
des autorités gouvernementales du Québec se sont surtout orientées vers les
PME en régions non métropolitaines que l’on considérait plus vulnérables étant
donné leur isolement relatif. Ce questionnement a donné lieu à une étude qui a
montré que les petites entreprises, plus particulièrement celles de moins de
cinquante employés, ne paraissaient pas vraiment menacées et, à part les
secteurs du textile et des embarcations de plaisance, dans l’ensemble les effets
négatifs apparaissaient peu importants (GREPME, 1992, et Julien et al., 1994).
Cette première étude fut suivie d’autres recherches, dans les mêmes régions,
dites du Québec central (Lanaudière et Mauricie/Bois-Francs) afin, cette fois,
de centrer l’attention de façon plus spécifique sur les PME exportatrices.
L’objectif visé ici est de mettre en évidence les facteurs de succès en s’attardant
aux secteurs d’activité et au caractère innovateur de ces entreprises. Pour y
94
Des PME québécoises en région face à la mondialisation
parvenir nous avons fait l’étude de 38 PME exportatrices dûment sélectionnées
à l’intérieur de ces deux régions en vertu des caractéristiques qui les associent à
la « nouvelle économie » (Zéghal et Choi, 1996; Berck, 1995).
L’ensemble des informations a été prélevé auprès de PME qui répondaient aux
conditions suivantes (Julien, 1997; Marchesnay et Fourcade, 1997) :
a) une taille restreinte, soit moins de 250 employés;
b) la centralisation de la gestion autour du propriétaire-dirigeant ou
de quelques têtes dirigeantes;
c) une stratégie intuitive ou peu formalisée mettant à profit la
proximité du dirigeant et des employés;
d) un système d’information interne simple appuyé sur le dialogue et
le contact direct;
e) un système d’information externe peu complexe où les clients
constituent la principale source d’information.
Dans un premier temps nous chercherons à mettre en évidence l’état de la
situation en montrant les enjeux et la problématique reliés, au défi que
représente la mondialisation pour les PME québécoises. Ensuite, nous
montrerons, en nous basant sur notre étude, des traits particuliers de PME qui
trouvent leur place sur les marchés mondiaux. On verra que ces PME,
considérées comme étant de classe mondiale, n’hésitent pas à innover en
cherchant une implantation solide avant tout sur le marché américain.
PME québécoises et problématique de la mondialisation
La documentation disponible entourant les conséquences de l’ALÉ sur
l’économie canadienne et québécoise au moment de son adoption était plutôt
limitée. On y trouvait surtout des publications officielles du gouvernement du
Canada, des études de l’ex-Conseil économique du Canada de même que
différentes études des associations sectorielles. Peu d’études empiriques furent
réalisées avec pour but spécifique l’étude de l’impact de l’ALÉ sur les PME
manufacturières et sur les comportements de leurs dirigeants. Le fait qu’une
majorité d’entrepreneurs se soit prononcée en faveur du traité de libre-échange
dès le début des débats explique le peu d’intérêt porté pour cette question par les
chercheurs. En effet, dès 1986, un sondage de la Fédération canadienne de
l’entreprise indépendante auprès de plus de 4000 de ses membres, de tous les
secteurs de l’économie québécoise, révélait que seulement 15,2 p. 100 de ceuxci estimaient que la libération des échanges avec les États-Unis aurait des effets
négatifs sur leurs activités. Au contraire, 33,8 p. 100 estimaient que la levée des
barrières les avantagerait alors que le reste des répondants était indécis (Blouin,
1986).
C’est précisément pour combler cette lacune d’information sur les effets de
l’ouverture complète des frontières que nous avons cherché à connaître les
conséquences prévisibles sur les PME manufacturières dans trois régions non
métropolitaines. Si seulement 18 p. 100 des entreprises enquêtées pratiquaient
déjà l’exportation, en très grande majorité avec les États-Unis, pas moins de 24
p. 100 d’entrepreneurs affichaient des intentions de s’engager en ce sens
(Julien, Joyal, Deshaies, 1994). En fait, à travers le Québec en 1996, seulement
95
IJCS / RIÉC
22,2 p. 100 des entreprises de moins de 50 employés exportaient (MICST,
1997). L’optimisme affiché en faveur de l’ouverture des frontières était-il
justifié? Peut-on dire comme l’écrit Paquet (1995) que cet ethos incarné par
l’idée de « Québec Inc. »2 fut la source d’un « nationalisme de marché » ou
entrepreneurial qui expliquait un optimisme aux allures don-quichottistes face
à l’ALÉ? Si tel était l’état d’esprit, comment expliquer que les PME
québécoises ne sont-elles pas plus nombreuses à s’implanter sur les marchés
étrangers?
La faiblesse relative des PME exportatrices
En 1990, les exportations totales du secteur manufacturier atteignaient 16,6
milliards de dollars. Avec 1,4 milliards, les expéditions à l’extérieur du Canada
des PME québécoises ne représentaient donc que 8,6 p. 100 de l’ensemble, soit
une diminution par rapport aux 9,7 p. 100 qu’elles occupaient en 1982 (MICST,
1997). Les lacunes de ce côté font comprendre l’objectif du gouvernement
québécois de vouloir favoriser d’ici la fin du siècle l’avènement de 2000
nouvelles PME exportatrices alors que leur nombre, en 1990, s’élevait à 1942.
Le Québec exporte toujours, en grande quantité, du papier journal, de
l’aluminium, divers minéraux, des produits forestiers et agro-alimentaires.
Mais ces dernières années, l’information ou la matière grise s’impose comme
un facteur de production dominant. Ainsi, la proportion des exportations
québécoises de haute technologie du secteur manufacturier a plus que doublé
ces dix dernières années. Alors que la part de ce type d’exportation se situe à 8 p.
100 pour l’ensemble du Canada, elle atteint les 22,4 p. 100 pour le Québec
(Entreprendre, 1996). En 1993, les exportations internationales de produits
manufacturés se chiffraient à 30,6 milliards de dollars. Parmi celles-ci, pas
moins de 48,5 p. 100 proviennent d’activités associées à la haute et moyenne
technologie comme celles du matériel de transport, de produits électriques et
électroniques, des produits chimiques et de la machinerie (MICST, 1997). En
ce qui regarde les PME, 55 p. 100 de leurs exportations totales se situent à
l’intérieur des secteurs du bois, de la machinerie, des aliments, des produits
plastiques et des produits métalliques. Cette évolution est de bonne augure face
à la mondialisation de l’économie.
Cependant, la comparaison avec d’autres pays montre l’importance du chemin
qui reste à parcourir. En effet, la part des PME exportatrices des pays comme la
Suède, l’Italie, la Finlande, les Pays-Bas et la Grèce se situe respectivement à 36
p. 100, 25 p. 100, 21 p. 100, 20 p. 100 et 19 p. 100 de l’ensemble des PME.
(Sommet économique, 1996). Avec une part inférieure à 15 p. 100, les PME
québécoises demeurent fortement en retrait. Mais, encore une fois, l’exemple
des pays étrangers fait prendre conscience des possibilités d’amélioration.
Ainsi, au Danemark, les exportations de la part d’entreprises de moins de 200
employés se sont accrues de 29,5 p. 100 entre 1986 et 1990, alors que les
exportations des grandes entreprises n’ont augmenté que de 17,8 p. 100. Le
même phénomène s’observe en Grèce où les firmes exportatrices de moins de
50 employés ont vu, pour la même période, leurs exportations s’élever de 7 p.
100 en comparaison à 4 p. 100 pour celles qui avaient plus de 100 employés
(OCDE, 1995).
96
Environ la moitié (48 p. 100) des livraisons des PME manufacturières
exportatrices québécoises se destinent à l’extérieur du Québec. En 1990, les
expéditions des ces entreprises se répartissaient de la façon suivante : 52 p. 100
à l’intérieur du Québec, 36,6 p. 100 dans le reste du Canada, dont 22,5 p. 100 en
Ontario, 11,6 p. 100 aux États-Unis et 2,8 p. 100 vers d’autres pays (BSQ,
1994). La documentation sur les PME exportatrices souligne « l’effet de
proximité » que représente la propension pour les PME de trouver sur le marché
le plus près leur première occasion de débouchés extérieurs. Cet effet explique
que 81,2 p. 100 des exportations internationales (toutes catégories) du Québec
vont vers les États-Unis. La Figure 1 indique la part des biens expédiés par les
PME exportatrices selon les destinations. On voit que la proportion expédiée en
Ontario et dans l’Ouest canadien est très similaire à celle écoulée à l’intérieur
du Québec. Bref, ces dernières données soulignent la faible performance de
PME québécoises sur la scène internationale (inférieure à 10 p. 100). Quant au
Marché commun de l’époque, il accaparait, avec 9,7 p. 100, une proportion
légèrement plus élevée que les États-Unis (BSQ, 1994).
Figure 1
Part des PME manufacturières dans les expéditions de manufacturiers
exportateurs selon la destination, 1990.
Source : Bureau de la statistique du Québec, « Statistiques des PME manufacturières au Québec »,
éd. 1994.
Depuis la signature de l’ALÉ, les exportations au sud du 45e parallèle ont
augmenté de 20 p. 100. Une de nos études, effectuée auprès de 20 PME
exportatrices situées toujours dans le Québec central, révèle que 96 p. 100 de
celles-ci exportent exclusivement aux États-Unis (Joyal et al. 1996). L’attrait
du marché américain s’accroît au fur et à mesure que les dirigeants des PME
97
IJCS / RIÉC
québécoises prennent conscience des limites du marché canadien. Ils se
laissent ainsi gagner par l’effet de proximité mentionné plus haut. L’ALÉ a
favorisé les relations commerciales vers le sud au détriment de celles vers
l’ouest du Canada (Julien, 1996). Le succès obtenu aux États-Unis pave la voix
à l’implantation sur d’autres marchés internationaux menant à parler
d’entreprise mondiale.
Des PME de classe mondiale
Une PME mondiale est une entreprise en mesure d’affronter le défi que pose la
mondialisation ou l’ouverture généralisée des frontières. Lefebvre et al. (1996)
considèrent qu’une entreprise est mondiale lorsqu’elle exporte ailleurs qu’aux
États-Unis. Les PME qui n’exportent que vers ce marché sont qualifiées de
nord-américaines alors que les autres, suivant le marché desservi, sont
considérées comme des entreprises locales ou nationales. Pour notre part, nous
préférons désigner comme mondiale toute entreprise qui parvient à s’implanter
d’une façon soutenue sur le marché étranger, américain ou non.
Essentiellement proactives, ces entreprises se positionnent autant pour faire
face à la concurrence étrangère sur leurs marchés intérieurs que pour tirer profit
des occasions offertes éventuellement par les marchés étrangers. Ces
entreprises adoptent un nouveau style de management lequel accompagne le
recours à de nouveaux équipements et la définition de nouveaux objectifs. On
se trouve donc en présence du management de la qualité totale, de l’ingénierie
simultanée, de la rémunération basée sur les compétences et des systèmes de
données informatisées. La qualité devient le maître mot qui permet à
l’entreprise de développer un avantage concurrentiel. Certains auteurs
qualifient ces entreprises de « globales » lorsqu’elles atteignent le stade ultime
de l’internationalisation. Ainsi, Tores (1996) suppose que plus les taux
d’exportation, d’importation et d’investissement direct à l’étranger
s’accroissent, plus l’entreprise tend vers sa forme globale. Le concept de
globalisation suggère donc une analyse synthétique de différents aspects
internationaux entourant l’entreprise. La stratégie de globalisation constitue la
phase ultime de l’internationalisation de l’entreprise. L’entreprise situe alors
l’ensemble de ses activités et objectifs à l’échelle mondiale (Marchesnay et
Fourcade, 1997). N’allant pas aussi loin, dans le cas présent, nous retenons
essentiellement la capacité pour l’entreprise de faire face à la concurrence
internationale, principalement par son aptitude à exporter un produit à haute
valeur ajoutée.
L’entreprise n’existe et prospère qu’en relation avec sa capacité de gagner et
conserver des clients. En conséquence, ses objectifs se définissent par rapport à
des volumes de ventes, aux parts de marché, aux indices de satisfaction de la
clientèle et, bien sûr, aux bénéfices. En fait, avec cette vision, l’un des enjeux
importants de la compétitivité consiste à rechercher le succès sur des marchés
qui se mondialisent. L’importance accordée dans le cas présent à la dimension
exportation se situe dans un tel contexte. Cet aspect se trouve ici sérié par la
mise en évidence, dans la section suivante, des résultats issus de notre plus
récente enquête auprès de PME de classe mondiale dans le Québec central. Ce
choix tient compte de l’observation de Côté (1996) qui signale que les
entreprises de la région de Montréal sont davantage orientées vers l’espace
98
canadien alors que celles des autres régions exportent plus facilement vers les
États-Unis et le reste du monde. Il s’agit, en conséquence, de répondre aux
interrogations suivantes :
a) quelles sont les caractéristiques d’un nombre représentatif de PME
exportatrices québécoises?
b) quelle est l’importance relative de l’innovation et de l’engagement
des dirigeants des entreprises?
c) quel est le lien entre ces facteurs et l’importance de leurs
exportations?
Les hypothèses sous-jacentes à la présente étude, faut-il le répéter, veulent que
le secteur d’activité et l’adoption de certaines innovations constituent deux
facteurs déterminants qui influent sur le volume d’exportations des PME, ces
dernières étant fonction de la détermination des dirigeants d’entreprises.
Méthodologie et description de l’échantillon
Pour répondre aux questions soulevées nous avons privilégié une démarche
d’enquête auprès de propriétaires-dirigeants de PME exportatrices. Aucune
banque de données officielle n’était en mesure de fournir ces informations,
notamment au sujet des obstacles à surmonter pour pénétrer les marchés
étrangers. Par ailleurs, il était plus instructif d’interroger des propriétaires ayant
déjà une expérience dans l’exportation. Il leur était facile d’identifier les
caractéristiques innovatrices de leur entreprise et de faire le lien avec
l’importance des exportations de leur entreprise.
L’échantillon fut tiré en partie d’un ensemble de 200 entreprises exportatrices
obtenu de la liste fournie par le Centre de recherche industrielle du Québec et de
suggestions de professionnels du développement économique en région. Ainsi,
nous avons tenu compte d’un certain nombre de caractéristiques
représentatives de cet ensemble (secteur d’activité, propriété indépendante,
petite et moyenne dimension). De cette façon, 38 entreprises furent
sélectionnées dans les régions de Lanaudière et de la Mauricie/Bois-Francs.
Les entreprises situées en milieu rural et semi-rural ont été favorisées compte
tenu de leur présumé degré de vulnérabilité par rapport aux PME des régions
métropolitaines. Nos connaissances sur les PME exportatrices du Québec nous
conduisent à affirmer que notre échantillon, sans être statistiquement
représentatif, fournit des informations qui reflètent bien l’état de la situation à
l’échelle de la province.
La collecte d’information auprès des propriétaires-dirigeants ou de leur
spécialiste du marketing a fait appel à une grille d’entrevue semi-structurée
d’une durée d’environ deux heures. Une relance téléphonique a permis
d’obtenir un complément d’information.
Le schéma d’entretien comportait des questions sur l’historique de l’entreprise,
les principales étapes de son évolution, les efforts en matière de formation de la
main-d’œuvre et de veille technologique, le recours aux programmes d’aide
gouvernementale, la R&D, la stratégie adoptée au début des exportations et
développée depuis lors, l’apport des différents acteurs à l’intérieur du milieu
d’appartenance de l’entreprise avec une attention particulière pour tout ce qui
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IJCS / RIÉC
se rapporte à l’exportation. À ces études de cas s’ajoutent une demi-douzaine
d’entretiens avec des agents de développement qui œuvrent à l’intérieur de
structures d’appui aux entreprises.
Le Tableau 1 décrit l’ensemble de l’échantillon regroupé en six secteurs3. On
voit qu’il s’agit dans l’ensemble de petites entreprises puisque la moyenne est
de 38 employés. Étant donné que 64 p. 100 des PME exportatrices ont moins de
50 employés (MICST, 1997), la représentativité de notre échantillon ne pose
pas de difficulté. Si la moyenne d’âge d’existence des entreprises remonte à
plus de 20 ans, ce n’est qu’au début des années 1980 que les exportations ont
vraiment débuté, pour la plupart, de façon significative.
Tableau 1
Caractéristiques des PME manufacturières exportatrices dans le Québec central
Secteurs
Nombre
Âge de
Âge de
Pourcentage des
la PME d’employés l’activité exportations dans
(x)
exportatric
(x)
le chiffre
e
d’affaires (x)
(x)
n
Industries du bois
22
55
19
48,0
8
Meubles
19
64
12
44,8
5
Produits métalliques
21
36
11
28,2
6
Machinerie et transport
28
43
13
36,6
9
Chimie et plastique
34
26
28
9,0
4
Autres non regroupées
19
60
14
58,0
6
Moyenne pondérée
21
38
13
29,4
38
Le chiffre d’affaires exporté, situé à près de 30 p. 100, est nullement
négligeable. Ce ratio, utilisé couramment (Bonaccorsi, 1992), sert souvent
d’indicateur de performance, comme quoi l’importance de l’exportation
représente une preuve d’efficacité de la part des entreprises.
Des PME innovatrices
L’innovation fait l’objet d’une attention grandissante de la part de dirigeants
des PME québécoises. Non seulement plus des deux tiers d’entre elles se sont
réorganisées depuis 1990, mais pas moins de 70 p. 100 se sont engagées ces
dernières années dans un processus visant à modifier les méthodes de travail
dans le but d’accroître leur performance (Côté, 1997). Notre approche se situe
très près de celle adoptée par Landry et al. (1996) dans leur étude d’un
échantillon non probabiliste de plus de 200 PME d’une autre région du Québec
100
central soit Chaudière-Apalaches. Ces auteurs ont partagé les innovations en
trois catégories : 1) celles touchant les produits sans modification dans les
procédés de fabrication, 2) celles qui touchent simultanément les produits et les
procédés de fabrication et 3) celles se rapportant uniquement aux procédés de
fabrication. Pas moins de 41,5 p. 100 des entreprises de cette région innovent à
la fois au niveau des produits et des procédés de fabrication. Les entreprises ici
étudiées s’inscrivent parfaitement dans ce processus. Ainsi les secteurs
« Industries du bois » et « Meubles » ne doivent pas rappeler ce que l’usage
courant a longtemps désigné comme un secteur mou ou traditionnel. Dans le
premier cas, il s’agit bien de produits élaborés comme des cercueils haut de
gamme, des panneaux isolants structuraux pour les maisons (cette technologie
est en voie de remplacer le traditionnel « deux par quatre ») ou encore des bâtons
de hockey très haut de gamme. Quant au secteur du meuble, ici c’est le design et
la technologie qui confèrent à ces entreprises leur caractère innovateur.
Dans le secteur de la machinerie, une entreprise offre l’exemple de système
d’attache automatique tout à fait inédit pour fourragères, presses à foin et
tracteurs agricoles. Dans le même secteur, une entreprise fabrique des
enrubanneuses de fourrages dont on ne trouve pas l’équivalent sur le marché.
Pour ce qui est du matériel de transport, une entreprise se spécialise dans la
fabrication de bennes de camion monocoques dont la spécificité permet
l’exportation aussi loin qu’en Australie. Ceci alors qu’une autre entreprise
parvient à vendre ses cylindres hydrauliques dans pas moins de 18 pays.
Dans le secteur « Autres non regroupés », une entreprise de matériel électrique,
créée en 1988, a commencé ses exportations cinq ans plus tard. En 1995, grâce à
un marketing particulièrement agressif, l’entreprise écoulait déjà 15 p. 100 de
la valeur de ses systèmes lumineux à fibres optiques sur le marché américain.
Ce secteur étant en pleine expansion, la part des exportations est appelée à
s’élever considérablement. Dans un secteur d’activité connexe, une autre
entreprise, également de création récente, ambitionne de devenir le leader
mondial dans le domaine des produits de gestion informatisée des différents
systèmes qui équipent les véhicules d’urgence, de transport ou de service. Sept
de ses 22 employés sont spécialement affectés à la recherche et au
développement. Les exportations représentent pour cette entreprise la
principale possibilité d’expansion.
Toujours dans le groupe « Autres » se trouve une très petite entreprise créée en
1989. Les exportations représentent pas moins de 90 p. 100 de son chiffre
d’affaires. Les mouches à pêche, que fabriquent les cinq employés avec de
l’équipement conçu par le créateur de l’entreprise, se répartissent dans 23 pays
différents. L’innovation associée au type de produit explique ce succès
impressionnant.
Ces illustrations montrent que ces PME, malgré leur taille restreinte, exportent
depuis peu de temps une proportion non négligeable de leur production. Malgré
la présence d’une vingtaine d’entreprises œuvrant à l’intérieur de secteurs
jugés traditionnels, ces PME offrent toutes les caractéristiques qui permettent
leur association à des entreprises innovatrices.
101
IJCS / RIÉC
Le Tableau 2 permet d’obtenir une idée de la mesure du caractère innovateur
des entreprises étudiées sur la base de huit indicateurs. Pour chacun de ces
derniers on trouve en pourcentage les entreprises qui s’y rapportent.
Tableau 2
Caractéristiques de l’innovation des PME manufacturières exportatrices
dans le Québec central
(Pourcentage des PME ayant le caractère innovateur)
Bois
R&D
Participation
ISO
Certification ISO
Nouvelles
techniques de
production
Amélioration du
design
Formation de la
main-d’œuvre
Produit nouveau
Amélioration du
produit
Nombre moyen
de caractères
innovateurs
Nombre de
répondants
Meubles
Produits Machinerie Chimie Autres Pourcentage
pondéré
et
métalliques
et
pour
transport plastique
l’ensemble
25
12,5
60
20
16,6
33,2
66,6
11,1
50
25
33,3
0
42,2
15,8
2,5
12,5
0
40
16,6
16,6
33,3
44,4
0
25
0
16,6
15,8
26,3
12,5
40
16,6
44,4
25
33,3
28,9
37,5
60
16,6
77,7
50
0
42,2
12,5
12,5
20
20
16,6
33,2
55,5
22,2
0
50
16,6
16,6
23,7
21,1
1,5
2,6
1,6
3,5
2,3
1
2,6
8
5
5
9
4
6
38
Les indicateurs qui distinguent les entreprises sont surtout la recherche et le
développement, et la formation (42,2 p. 100 pour l’un et l’autre). Pour tous les
autres indicateurs, allant de la participation à la certification ISO à la création
d’un nouveau produit, les proportions varient entre 20 et 30 p. 100. On observe
également des différences selon les secteurs d’activité. Dans les cas de la
machinerie et transport, du meuble, de la chimie et du plastique, la présence des
indicateurs d’innovation est plus forte, comparativement aux secteurs du bois,
des produits métalliques et des autres entreprises.
À prime abord, ces pourcentages peuvent sembler faibles. On voit que les
pourcentages pondérés sont tous inférieurs à 45 p. 100. Aussi, il y a lieu de
s’interroger sur la nécessité pour les PME de se distinguer pour les huit
indicateurs. Une PME peut innover à partir de sa technologie tout en fabriquant
102
un produit bien familier à tous. Pour bien comprendre la nature des différentes
données présentées dans ce tableau, il faut, en effet, prendre en considération
que l’on est en présence, pour la majorité des cas, d’entreprises de moins de 50
employés. Vingt-six de ces entreprises se trouvent dans une municipalité de
moins de 3000 habitants. Dans ces conditions, le fait que 42 p. 100 entretiennent
des activités de recherche et développement et que plus de 30 p. 100 d’entre
elles aient déjà la certification ISO ou étaient sur le point de l’obtenir au
moment de l’enquête présente une observation favorable. Certaines PME ne
vendent pas à de grandes entreprises mais directement sur le marché de la
consommation, d’où le manque d’intérêt de la part de leurs dirigeants à la
certification ISO. Leurs produits ne se distinguent pas moins par une qualité
supérieure. Ce dernier élément corrobore les résultats obtenus par Côté (1992)
qui montrent que la qualité du produit constitue l’un des principaux facteurs
favorisant la pénétration hors Québec des entreprises.
De même, la référence à un produit nouveau ne doit pas prêter à confusion. Si la
moyenne pondérée des entreprises qui déclarent fabriquer un produit nouveau
n’excède pas 23 p. 100, dans bien des cas, le produit, sans être nouveau, a fait
l’objet d’une innovation (conception nouvelle : 21 p. 100) qui lui permet de se
situer favorablement sur le marché international ou américain plus
particulièrement. Parfois aussi, l’innovation relève essentiellement de la
technologie utilisée, comme c’est le cas dans le groupe « Chimie et plastique »
qui ne présente aucun produit nouveau. Or, dans le secteur du plastique, des
entreprises fabriquent des produits relativement simples (poignées d’armoire,
contenants pour le secteur pharmaceutique, seaux à fleurs) qui ne demandent
guère de recherche et développement. Ce sont les machines assistées par
ordinateur (moulage sous pression) et les stratégies commerciales des
dirigeants de ces entreprises, notamment au plan du design, qui retiennent ici
l’attention.
Quant à la formation professionnelle, on peut voir qu’une bonne proportion de
ces entreprises n’ont pas attendu la nouvelle exigence gouvernementale de 1 p.
100 du chiffre d’affaires pour offrir à leurs employés un programme de
formation qui leur permet de se familiariser avec les nouvelles technologies. Ce
sont les entreprises du groupe « Meubles » avec une moyenne de 60 p. 100 et
« Chimie et plastique » avec 50 p. 100 qui se distinguent particulièrement à ce
chapitre. Les difficultés pour les PME à trouver le personnel qualifié dont elles
ont besoin les obligent bien souvent à miser avant tout sur leur propre maind’œuvre. De cette façon, l’adoption de nouvelles technologies s’accomplit sans
la mise à pied de travailleurs. D’anciens travailleurs en fonction depuis plus de
vingt ans se retrouvent bien à l’aise devant l’écran cathodique d’une machine
assistée par ordinateur.
Pour mieux illustrer le caractère innovateur de ces PME exportatrices, le
Tableau 3 présente le nombre moyen associé à chaque indicateur pour
l’ensemble des entreprises et pour chacun des secteurs d’activité.
103
IJCS / RIÉC
Tableau 3
Caractéristiques des PME manufacturières selon l’intensité innovatrice
Nombre
d’innovations
Aucune
1à2
3à4
5à6
7à8
Total
Nombre de
PME
2
12
8
6
1
29
Pourcentage
6,9
41,4
27,6
26,7
3,4
100
Nombre
moyen
d’employés
45
47
64
33
85
50
Pourcentage des
exportations dans le
chiffre d’affaires
15,5
50,5
43,7
26,0
5,0
44,3
On voit que seulement sept entreprises se distinguent pour plus de quatre
indicateurs. La majorité se démarquent en ayant deux ou trois indicateurs.
Contrairement à ce que l’on pourrait penser, une augmentation de la présence
d’innovations dans l’entreprise ne semble pas avoir un effet croissant sur
l’importance des exportations. Ces résultats confirment l’opinion qu’un seul
élément associé à l’innovation peut être générateur de valeur ajoutée et stimuler
l’exportation. Ceci s’explique par l’importance de l’engagement du dirigeantpropriétaire dont les initiatives permettent à l’entreprise de s’imposer sur la
scène internationale (Joyal et al., 1996; Joyal, 1996).
Cependant la question demeure controversée. Comme le font remarquer
Hansen et al. (1994) un bon nombre d’études ont fait ressortir une corrélation
positive entre l’intensité technologique et l’importance de l’exportation des
PME. À ce sujet, Lefebvre et al. (1996) demeurent très prudents en considérant
que, même si l’innovation technologique a une incidence sur la performance à
l’exportation, son évidence empirique demeure relativement fragmentaire. À
leurs yeux aucune étude n’aurait exploré, au niveau de la firme, le lien entre
diverses dimensions de l’innovation technologique (y compris la gestion des
activités technologiques) et la performance à l’exportation. Nous espérons ici,
dans une certaine mesure, combler cette lacune.
Conclusion
À la faveur de cette recherche nous pouvons démontrer que même si elles ne
sont pas suffisamment nombreuses au Québec, les PME exportatrices de type
innovatrices, même de petite taille, existent bel et bien. Toutes sont identifiées
comme des entreprises de classe mondiale en vertu de leur capacité de
s’imposer sur un ou plusieurs marchés étrangers. Ces entreprises ont réussi à se
situer favorablement sur le marché américain grâce à un créneau particulier,
généralement associé à ce que l’on désigne comme étant le « manufacturier
complexe » (Malecki, 1994). Leur présence dans des villages ou des petites
villes démontre que l’entrepreneuriat y est particulièrement alerte et ne se
trouve pas handicapé outre mesure par l’éloignement des grands centres où
104
s’exercent les effets de synergie occasionnés autant par le nombre d’entreprises
que par les centres de recherche et les têtes de réseaux d’information.
Nous avons vu que les entreprises étudiées possèdent plusieurs caractéristiques
liées à l’innovation et que le type d’activité industrielle exerce une faible
influence sur l’exportation. Ainsi, des entreprises reliées à des secteurs
industriels dits « mous » comme le meuble et la machinerie de type courant font
bonne figure sur le marché américain. Par ailleurs, deux à quatre caractéristiques
innovatrices suffisent pour faciliter l’implantation sur un marché extérieur.
En effet, pour la majorité des entreprises étudiées, l’engagement du dirigeant
représente l’élément déterminant pour surmonter les obstacles à l’exportation.
Qu’il s’agisse de l’adoption d’un nouveau créneau, du recours à de nouvelles
technologies, d’une innovation entourant le produit, de l’obtention de précieux
contacts à l’étranger, la détermination du dirigeant se manifeste dans tous les
cas. C’est en misant avant tout sur leurs propres ressources que ces dirigeants
parviennent à assurer l’essor de leur entreprise. Et la pénétration de marchés
étrangers ne fait pas exception. L’acte entrepreneurial relève d’une démarche
essentiellement individuelle. Là où la PME locale (propriété d’entrepreneurs
locaux) est florissante, les appuis dispensés par différents organismes de
soutien, s’ils peuvent être utiles, ne jouent pas un rôle dominant. La vision à
moyen comme à long terme de cet entrepreneuriat s’avère un élément
fondamental. Le chemin parcouru en vingt ans ne manque pas d’impressionner.
Bien sûr, il n’y a pas lieu de pavoiser trop vite. Nous n’avons pas manqué de
souligner le trop faible nombre de PME québécoises engagées sur le marché de
l’exportation à l’heure où la mondialisation se fait de plus en plus présente.
Beaucoup reste à faire pour que des pans entiers de la structure économique
québécoise puisse affronter dans les meilleures conditions les profonds
changements en cours à l’échelle de la planète. Pour y arriver, l’expérience de
certaines PME, comme celles évoquées dans cet article, représente un exemple
très précieux pour d’autres qui devront à leur tour trouver leur place sur les
marchés étrangers.
Notes
1.
2.
3.
L’essentiel des résultats présentés dans cet article sont issus de travaux ayant reçu l’appui
financier du Conseil de recherche en sciences humaines du Canada.
Le concept de « Québec Inc. » recouvre un véritable projet de société (Fraser, 1987). Il
exprime un modèle de développement fondé sur une alliance entre les pouvoirs
économiques public et privé, et appuyé par de nombreuses organisations socio-économiques
dont l’objectif a été et continue d’être la poursuite d’une politique de croissance par la prise
en main des leviers économiques du Québec.
Se retrouvent dans « Autres non regroupés » des entreprises qui appartiennent aux secteurs
suivants : produits électriques et électroniques, l’habillement, produits minéraux non
métalliques, papier et produits connexes, et aliments. Certains de ces secteurs ne comptent
qu’une entreprise, ce qui explique leur regroupement.
Références
Berk, N. (1995) Excelerate Growing in the New Economy, Harper Collins.
Blouin, J. (1986) « La majorité des PME québécoises croient pouvoir concurrencer les géants
américains et gagner », L’Actualité, novembre.
105
IJCS / RIÉC
Bonaccorsi, A. (1992) « On the relationship firmsize and export intensity », Journal of
International Business Studies, Vol. 23, no 4, pp. 605-635.
Bourgeois, E. (1991) La PMI innovatrice: guide du développement international, Les Éditions de
l’organisation, Paris.
BSQ (Bureau de la statistique du Québec) (1994) Statistiques des PME manufacturières au
Québec. Québec.
Coerwinckel, E. et Raidelet, M. (1990) « Le financement de l’exportation, de nouvelles relations
avec les banques », dans P. Y. Léo, M. C. Monnoyer et J. Philippe (édit.), PME: stratégies
internationales, Economica, Paris.
Côté, C. (1997) « L’adoption de nouvelles technologies », La Presse, 18 juin, D 6.
Côté, S. (1992) Régions et interrelations économiques au Québec, OPDQ, Québec.
Côté, S. (1996) « Relations économiques régionales et hétérogénéité de l’espace québécois »,
Recherches sociographiques, sept.-déc., vol. XXXVII, no 3, pp. 517-537.
Entreprendre (1996) « L’import-export au Québec », Vol. 9, no 4, septembre/octobre pp. 26-56.
Fraser, M. (1987) Québec Inc. Les Québécois prennent d’assaut le monde des affaires, Montréal,
L’Homme.
Gibiat, M. (1994) « Les modèles intégrés de la décision d’exporter en PME/PMT: synthèse de
recherches depuis 20 ans », Revue internationale de PME, Vol. 7 (2), pp. 11-30.
GREPME (Groupe de recherche en économie et gestion des PME) (1992) L’impact de l’accord de
libre-échange avec les États-Unis sur les PME en région, Rapport soumis à l’OPDQ,
Québec, avril.
Hansen, N., Gillespie, K., Gencturk, E. (1994), « SMEs and Export Involvment: Market
Responsiveness, Technology and Alliances », Journal of Global Marketing, Vol. 7 (4), pp.
7-27.
Joyal, A. et al. (1996) « Typologie des comportements stratégiques des PME exportatrices »,
Gestion, Revue internationale de gestion, Vol. 21, no 1 mars, pp. 29-37.
Joyal, A. (1996) Des PME et le défi de l’exportation, Presses Inter-universitaires, Québec.
Julien, P. A., Joyal, A., Deshaies, L. (1994) « SMEs and Globalization: Some Effects of the USCanada Free Trade Agreement », Journal of Small Business Management, vol. 32, no 3, July,
pp. 52-64.
Julien, P. A. (1996) « Globalization: Different Types of Small Business Behaviour »,
International of Entrepreneurial and Regional Development, Vol. 8, pp. 55-74.
Julien, P. A. et al. (1997) « A Typology of Strategic Behaviour Among Small and Medium-Sized
Exporting Business. A Case Study », International Small Business Journal, Vol. 15, (2), pp.
33-50.
Julien, P. A. (1997) « Théorie économique des PME » dans Les PME: bilan et perspectives, 2e ed.,
Julien P. A. sous la direction de, Presses Inter-universitaires, Québec.
Landry et al. (1996) Enquête sur les capacités technologiques et les besoins des entreprises
innovantes de la région Chaudière-Appalaches, BDDRQ et Secrétarait au développement
des régions.
Lefebvre, E., Lefebvre, L.A., Bourgault, M. (1996) « Performance à l’exportation et innovation
technologique dans les PME manufacturières », Revue d’économie industrielle, Vol 77, 3e
trimestre, pp. 53-72.
Librowicz, M. (1996) « Les PME du Québec et la mondialisation des marchés », Entreprendre, op
cit.
Malecki, E. (1994) « Entrepreneurship in Regional and Local Developement », International
Regional Science Review, 16, pp. 119-155.
Marchesnay, M. et Fourcade, C. (1997) sous la direction de, Gestion de la PME/PMI, Nathan, Paris.
MICST (Ministère de l’industrie, du commerce, de la science et de la technologie) (1997) La PME
au Québec, état de la situation, Québec.
Miesembock, K.J. (1988) « Small Businesses and Exporting: A Literature Review », International
Small Business Management, Vol. 6, no 2, pp. 42-61.
OCDE (1993) « Innovations et stratégie en matière de développement économique en milieu rural
aux États-Unis », Cahiers ILE, no 17, Paris.
OCDE (1995) Mondialisation des activités économiques et le développement des PME. Rapport
sous la direction de M. F. Estimé, Paris.
Pagé, L. (1994) « Des PME régionales qui exportent: les leçons de l’expérience », Revue
Organisation, Vol. 4 (1), pp. 27-36.
Paquet, G. (1995) « Québec Inc.: mythes et réalités », dans Le modèle québécois de développement
économique, Dupuis, J. P. (édit.), Presses inter-universitaires, Québec, pp. 8-20.
Sommet économique (1996) Documentation du gouvernement du Québec.
Torres, O. (1996) « Stratégie de mondialisation et PME: l’instruction d’un paradoxe », Actes du
Colloque CIFPME1996, 3e congrès international francophone de la PME, Trois-Rivières.
Tremblay, N. (1996) « Équilibre de l’économie et balance commerciale positive », Entreprendre,
op. cit.
Zéghal, D. et Choi, M. S. (1996) De nouveaux actifs en fonction de « La nouvelle économie »,
Document de travail 96-21, Faculté d’Administration, Ottawa.
106
Jeffrey M. Ayres
From National to Popular Sovereignty? The
Evolving Globalization of Protest Activity in
Canada
Abstract
This article analyzes the recent direction of domestic protest in Canada,
tracing its evolution over the past fifteen years from national to transnational
mobilization. Focusing particularly on the concept of political opportunity
structure central in social movement literature, it links international
economic processes to the shifting nature of political opportunity in Canada.
Economic constraints prompted by the globalization of the world economy
have limited the mobilization potential of the Canadian state. As a result,
Canadian social and political movements have increasingly questioned
traditional means of protest and mobilization that relied on pressuring the
state and federal government. The increasing penchant of Canadian social
activist groups for transnational coalition building does not necessarily
presage the emergence of transnational North American social movements,
but it does highlight a shift in strategy within Canada towards contention
focused less around national and more around transnational activism.
Résumé
Cet article analyse l’orientation récente de la contestation interne au
Canada, en décrivant l’évolution qu’elle a vécue au cours des quinze
dernières années, une évolution caractérisée par le passage de la
mobilisation nationale à la mobilisation transnationale. En se concentrant
particulièrement sur le concept de la structure d’occasion politique, concept
central de la littérature des mouvements sociaux, l’auteur établit un lien entre
les processus économiques internationaux et le caractère mouvant de
l’occasion politique au Canada. Les contraintes économiques découlant de la
mondialisation de l’économie de la planète ont limité le potentiel de
mobilisation de l’État canadien. En conséquence, les mouvements sociaux et
politiques canadiens se sont mis de plus en plus à remettre en question les
moyens traditionnels de contestation et de mobilisation visant à exercer des
pressions sur l’État et le gouvernement fédéral. Même si la tendance de plus
en plus marquée des groupes d’activistes sociaux canadiens à former des
coalitions transnationales ne laisse pas nécessairement augurer de
l’émergence de mouvements sociaux transnationaux nord-américains, elle
met en valeur un changement de stratégie à l’intérieur du Canada : la
contestation s’y concentre de moins en moins sur l’activisme national, pour
assumer un caractère de plus en plus transnational.
A subtle shift has been taking place in the protest strategies and tactics adopted
by various social groups across Canada. Previously rooted in state-centered
IJCS / RIÉC
campaigns that mobilized around national sovereignty, increasingly social
activist groups have begun to mount collective campaigns that transcend both
the concept of national sovereignty and national borders to focus on
transnational democracy and popular sovereignty. The impetus behind this
evolving shift in strategy and focus is the globalization of the world’s economy.
Globalization, by weakening the powers and capacities of the state to intervene
in traditional areas of social, political, economic and cultural concern, has in
turn reduced somewhat the attractiveness of the state as the locus for domestic
protest. This by no means heralds the end of the traditional national social
movement in Canada, but does point to an emerging era of greater transnational
movement, activity and protest within a context of growing North American
continental integration.1
This article traces the evolution of strategies of recent protest in Canada, from
national to transnational, resulting from the decline in state power and its
concomitant national political opportunity structures. Of particular interest is
the rise and pattern of anti-integration coalition-building activity in Canada,
including the shift in activities and strategy from primarily state-centered
overlapping into transnationally-oriented protest. Each stage in the ongoing
economic integration process has marked discernable shifts in both strategy
and consciousness for those social groups mobilized to oppose such
agreements. From the highly nationalist anti-FTA campaign, to the
transnationalist anti-NAFTA mobilization, to the post-NAFTA context of
community-based resistance and anti-corporate campaigns, social groups
across Canada have had to rethink traditional methods of protest in an era of
shrinking governmental power and resources.
Social Movements and the Internationalization of Political
Opportunities
Historically, the state has represented the pivot around which various social
movements have arisen, mobilized and protested on behalf of various social
constituencies. The political environment within which a movement emerges
frequently shapes the possibilities for successful collective action and the
forms that movement takes as it evolves. More specifically, the rise of labour,
women’s, civil rights, environmental and peace movements, to name a few, can
frequently be traced to the emergence of favourable state political opportunity
structures. Political opportunity structures can be understood as analytical tools
for conceptualizing how state institutions structure the mobilization dynamics
of social and political movements. The potential for movement emergence,
success and decline, can fruitfully be linked to shifting structures of political
opportunity.2
Over the past twenty years, scholars have developed a rich analytical record of
the role played by such political opportunity structures in the mobilization
history of a variety of movements in a variety of countries.3 Unstable electoral
alignments, divided parliaments, sympathetic opposition parties and fractured
elites have frequently provided social and political movements with the
leverage to make and air claims on the state. Under such destabilized political
conditions, groups or challengers previously excluded from routine decision
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The Evolving Globalization of Protest Activity in Canada
making arenas under otherwise normal political conditions, suddenly find the
opportunities for collective action and protest greatly enhanced. Shifts in the
political status quo help to temporarily level the political playing field,
weakening the position of powerful groups and creating the potential for
successful mobilization.
While research on the supportive mobilizing role played by such political
opportunity structures is impressive, some scholars have begun to criticize the
state-centric bias inherent in much of this work. International processes, it
would seem, might play just as an important role in structuring the possibilities
for protest and in destabilizing domestic alignments as state-level institutions.4
Clearly, the global economic and political constraints placed on states by the
globalization of the economy have had an impact on states and domestic
opportunities for successful collective action.
In fact, research is increasingly suggesting that international processes
prompted by globalization have both deeply affected domestic opportunities
for collective action as well as created the potential for transnational activism
through the internationalization of opportunity structures.5 In some cases
evidence suggests that globalization—the ongoing process of international
economic and communication interdependence—has reduced the mobilizing
potential of state political opportunity structures. Of note is the emerging
globalization of social movement thesis, which purports that government’s are
witnessing a dramatic decline in the ability to manage the polity and its
resources.6 The flexibility of capital, labour, finance and culture have blurred
sovereign boundaries, constraining the capacity of the state to act as freely on
behalf of its citizens, distribute resources and confidently plan for the future. In
turn, national political opportunity structures that previously supported the rise
of national social movement may be giving way or making room for
international political opportunity structures, supporting the growth of
transnational social movements.
Canada is particularly vulnerable to the constraints posed by globalization on
the efficacy of the federal government. Dominated by its relationship to the
United States, increasingly decentralized and strained by ever bolder
provinces, marked by high levels of foreign ownership, and bombarded daily
by U.S. popular culture that pays little heed to concerns over Canadian culture,
Canada’s federal government at times seems to flirt with virtual irrelevance.
Moreover, the Canadian government has been especially constrained by its
membership in both the CUSFTA and NAFTA. These continental free “trade”
agreements—specifying and encouraging integration involving trade, finance,
culture and commodities, have left the Canadian government of the late-1990s
with less of the options once available to intervene in the national economy and
manage and distribute resources for the collective public good.7 Gone for the
foreseeable future are the types of interventionist devices such as the Foreign
Investment Review Act or the National Energy Policy; even apparently mild
postal subsidies for Canadian media have been successfully challenged by the
U.S. through the World Trade Organization as unfair trade practices.
That the federal government—and relatedly the Canadian state—as a locus for
Canadian national identity should be weakening is nothing new. Academics
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and laypersons alike have been variously declaring it or wringing their hands
over the demise of the Canadian nation-state for years. The historically
binational (albeit increasingly multicultural) character of Canada has always
limited the appeal of the pan-Canadian national view. Moreover, the past
fifteen years of multi-national politics and continentalism have only served to
weaken the appeal of the one nation view of Canada. The recent emergence of
an increasingly vocal English Canada on such matters, combined with growing
efforts to counter Quebec nationalism with an English-Canadian “Plan B,” are
notable additions to this pattern.8
The forced retreat encouraged by the constraints placed on the federal
government by NAFTA and other global processes has, then, encouraged
certain social activist groups across Canada to rethink traditional means of
protest and mobilization. Past Canadian political opportunity structures have
either weakened or become altogether nonexistent. Lacking a viable
sympathetic opposition, and faced with a federal government seemingly
committed to creeping continentalism, social groups have begun to explore
emerging transnational opportunities for mobilization that have arisen
alongside the CUSFTA and NAFTA. The evolution of anti-integration protest
activity over the past fifteen years, in fact, provides a revealing look at this
emerging trend in protest strategy and tactics.
Protest and Social Movement Coalition Building
Both the anti-FTA and anti-NAFTA coalitions received a significant degree of
support from social activist and other so-called popular sector groups across
Canadian society. Ravaged by the 1981-83 recession, various church,
Aboriginal, women’s, labour, seniors, youth, farmer and anti-poverty groups
found commonality linked a by shared, unconventional, counter-discourse on
Canadian political economy. From the perspective of many such groups, the
neo-conservative tenets of the 1980s and 1990s—privatization, downsizing,
free trade, deregulation—represented ill-conceived, if not ideological
responses to the mounting social and economic problems facing not only
Canada but many marginalized groups around the world. The CUSFTA and
NAFTA, then, as significant public policy responses to the global economic
stagnation, were met by protests employing particularly the strategy of
coalition building in defiance of conventional wisdom that encouraged free
trade and unfettered markets.
The strategy of coalition building sought to bring together a cross-section of
groups who shared common goals, yet, whose resources could be more
effectively maximized through cooperation and sharing. Conceptualized as a
“new style of politics,” popular sector coalition building sought to build links
between groups based on non hierarchical, consultative, democratic
relationships.9 Coalitions pooled the unique skills of various groups—
research, membership and leadership—towards the achievement of more
generalized goals shared across sectors. Coalitions then served as vehicles for
political contestation and change, challenging the deferential and hierarchical
networks of political access and influence customary to Parliament.
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The various groups that networked to oppose the FTA and NAFTA in Canada
drew upon a strong record of intersectoral coalition-building in Canada that had
existed since the 1970s. Church groups, notably the Ecumenical Coalition for
Economic Justice (ECEJ), had employed the so-called “Ah-Ha” education
technique to assist social groups in developing a political consciousness
towards greater social justice.10 ECEJ, also known as Gatt-Fly, formed as an
ecumenical movement of five church coalitions designed to assist popular
sector groups struggling for social justice in Canada and the Third World. The
National Action Committee on the Status of Women (NAC), itself a broadbased coalition of over 500 women’s groups, and the Canadian Peace Pledge
Campaign, a coalition of over 500 peace groups, also represented notable
examples of groups employing a coalition-building strategy designed to
maximize the sharing of resources towards social and political goals.
Coalition-building became popular at the provincial level as well; by the early
1980s, many Canadian provinces contained coalitions forged to oppose early
government efforts at privatization and social welfare cuts.11 In particular,
protests by British Columbia’s Solidarity Coalition against the Socred
Government’s agenda of public service cutbacks and fiscal restraint during the
summer of 1983 stands out as one of the more notable cross-sectoral coalitionbuilding efforts prior to the emergence of the anti-free trade coalitions.12
Church and women’s groups in particular played a significant role in early
coalition building efforts of the 1980s, pooling popular sector talent that served
as a precursor to the anti-free trade campaign. The 1983 New Year’s Bishops
statement, coming in the midst of the disastrous early 1980s economic
recession, critiqued the Trudeau Liberal’s neo-liberal monetarist policy
response.13 The subsequent popular sector conference hosted by the Ottawabased Canadian Centre for Policy Alternatives (CCPA) in March 1983, used
the Bishop’s statement as a starting point for strategizing towards the
development of a new, progressive movement for social and political change.
NAC’s activist stance and public criticism of the September 1985 release of the
Macdonald Royal Commission report—with the Commission’s embrace of the
free trade option—further served as an early harbinger of later popular sector
critiques of the free trade initiative. The Macdonald Commission report
prompted a push towards the consolidation of the first major anti-free trade
coalition. The Commission’s report overlooked dozens of popular sector briefs
presented during the Commission’s hearings; it reinforced a sense among many
in the popular sector of their groups marginalization from the policy process,
and it presented the still disparate popular sector with the cement needed to
forge alliances towards new anti-FTA coalitions.
The Coalition Against the U.S.-Canada Free Trade Agreement
The cross-country coalition that mobilized in the mid-1980s to oppose the
CUSFTA drew upon classic strains in Canada’s nationalist and social activist
communities—from the nationalist Council of Canadians (COC) and more
broadly from various groups across Canadian society. Formed in March 1985,
the COC was by the start of preliminary free trade negotiations that December
the most thoroughly focused organization devoted specifically to opposing a
bilateral free trade agreement between Canada and the U.S. Moreover, by the
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time of the October 1987 signing of the FTA, the COC had begun to work with
social groups to oppose the deal. The oppositional coalition rested on a countrywide network of over twenty national organizations and associated coalitions
in nearly every province and territory. In addition, provincially and regionallybased coalitions, notably including the Ontario-based Coalition Against Free
Trade and la Coalition québécoise d’opposition au libre-echange bolstered the
activity of the anti-FTA coalition.
By that time, the Pro-Canada Network (PCN) had emerged as the national
vehicle for coordination and communication between these various anti-free
trade organizations and coalitions. Born that previous April at the so-called
Maple Leaf Summit—a demonstration-event staged to counter the MulroneyReagan Ottawa summit—the PCN grew out of the collaboration of hundreds of
attending representatives of organizations concerned about the potential
negative effects of the proposed U.S.-Canada FTA. This infrastructure
successfully overcame a history of Canadian social movement sectoral
fragmentation, unifying a diverse network of groups and coalitions against the
FTA. By that Fall, the PCN’s organizational structure consisted of four
working committees designed to coordinate strategy and action between the
affiliated organizations: a research and analysis, media and communications,
strategy, and steering committee. Moreover, by the Spring of 1988, when the
battle over the free trade deal had substantially heated up, the PCN and its
supporting movement organizations could claim to represent over ten million
Canadians.14
The consolidation of many anti-free trade groups into the PCN structure greatly
facilitated the pooling of resources from these groups into an organized
campaign of anti-FTA protest. The committees coordinated major national
protests throughout the Spring and Summer of 1988, including a national
petition drive, a cross-country national day of action, and a major intervention
into the parliamentary debate on the FTA implementing legislation.15 Both the
opposition NDP and Liberal parties interacted extensively with the PCN during
the summer parliamentary campaign, utilizing the PCN’s credible research and
analysis capabilities which provided nationwide sectoral critiques of the FTA
legislation. These interventions into the parliamentary process brought greater
credibility and immediacy to the PCN’s call for a general election to decide the
fate of the FTA. The summer’s protests climaxed with Liberal leader John
Turner’s call to his colleagues in the Senate to delay the FTA implementation
legislation and force an election on the issue.
The PCN’s election protest campaign that ensued with Prime Minister
Mulroney’s October 1 dissolution of Parliament began with a six-point plan of
action drafted at the PCN’s August 1988 National Assembly. Tactics included
the distribution of anti-FTA election kits to Liberal and NDP candidates, crosscountry candidate briefings on the deal, a televised debate between anti-FTA
activists and prominent supporters of the deal, lawn sign, t-shirt and button
campaigns, and the development of a cartoon booklet distributed as inserts in
newspapers across Canada to further educate Canadians about the deal.16 The
booklet especially marked a significant popular educational milestone for the
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PCN, as observers widely cited its accessibility and common sense approach to
the debate over free trade.17
However, the success of this left-nationalist coalition was short-lived in the
face of an aggressive and well-financed transnational business counterresponse in the midst of a faltering Mulroney reelection campaign. To be sure,
the business communities in Canada and the U.S. had taken a vested interest in
the successful implementation of the accord. Business groups had engineered a
substantive pro-free trade media and information campaign, spearheaded by
the emergence of the pro-free trade lobby, the Canadian Alliance for Trade and
Job Opportunities.18 Yet, the poll-plunging aftermath of the release of the
PCN’s cartoon booklet combined with the dismal performance of Mulroney in
the leadership debates, prompted an unprecedented intervention into the
election campaign by business to convince Canadians of the value of the
FTA.19 In addition to a massive media advertising effort, the Alliance and its
members lobbied companies and employees to support the deal.
Later studies of third-party advertising and its impact on the election campaign
and outcome strongly suggested that the business community’s aggressive
counter-response significantly constrained the political opportunities and
resources of the PCN anti-FTA campaign. A post-election Royal Commission
study on electoral reform revealed that the business community and other profree trade political and provincial allies dramatically outspent the anti-FTA
forces on pro-FTA advertising and information.20 Moreover, dramatic
discrepancies also emerged between free trade expenditures as a proportion of
national party advertising, significantly aiding the Progressive Conservative
party at the expense of the opposition NDP and Liberals.21 The Progressive
Conservatives subsequently gained another parliamentary majority with 43
percent of the popular vote, and implemented the FTA legislation shortly
thereafter.
Opposition to the North American Free Trade Agreement
While the results of the 1988 federal election proved sobering to nationalist and
social activist groups across Canada, most remained committed to the PCN
coalition structure as the best means to maintain the fight against free trade and
the Mulroney government’s agenda.22 Moreover, a significant shift occurred in
both the mindset and strategy of those groups that had witnessed their leftnationalist campaign falter against the determined efforts of a well-organized
and well-financed pro-free trade transnational business community. Groups
began to explore the possibility of developing trinational cooperative
educational and strategic links across the North American community. To be
sure, the COC and ACN23 did not abandon efforts to pressure Canadian
provincial and federal governments into dropping or renegotiating the FTA.
Chapters and members from the COC fought against the emerging NAFTA
pact through education campaigns, through provincial lobbying, and through
similar pan-Canadian coalition-building. Yet, a noticeable lesson learned from
the 1988 results concerned a greater willingness to reach across borders and
cultivate alliances with U.S. and Mexican groups similarly opposed to the
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NAFTA plans.24 Economic integration had, in fact, created new political
opportunities for transnational collective action.
As early as mid-1990, barely a year after the FTA had been in place,
representatives of the ACN began meeting with Mexican labour, church and
human rights organizations in anticipation of the impending NAFTA
negotiations. The Toronto-based Common Frontiers, a working group on
North American economic integration which emerged out of a September 1988
visit by representatives of various social groups to the U.S.-Mexican border
investigating the implications of the maquiladora area for Canada under the
emerging U.S.-Canada FTA, had by that time begun assisting the ACN.
Common Frontiers drew together labour, church, human rights, environmental
and economic justice organizations in a multi-sectoral network to research and
mobilize around the economic and social justice issues emerging from the
increasingly integrated continental economy.25 Building off the ACN coalition
experience against the FTA, Canadian groups through Common Frontiers
shared the still fresh memories and lessons from the 1988 campaign with their
Mexican counterparts.26
Common Frontiers played a crucial role in stimulating the development of
formal working relationships between Canadian, Mexican and U.S. coalitions,
organizing regularly scheduled, joint strategy meetings that developed
trinational analyses of the NAFTA texts. One key early meeting in October
1990 in Mexico City brought dozens of Mexican and Canadian organizations
together for a “Canada-Mexico Encuentro,” where Canadian groups discussed
the potential implications NAFTA posed for Mexican sovereignty and
democracy.27 This conference also helped spawn the emergence of the
Mexican Action Network on Free Trade (RMALC). By the time the NAFTA
negotiations ended, the Mexican Action Network had developed into a
coalition representing over 100 women’s, environmental, community
independent labour and other groups across Mexico.
In June 1991, when negotiations for NAFTA began among the trade ministers
of Canada, the U.S. and Mexico, organizations from all three countries initiated
joint work to coordinate strategies and draw publicity to their counterdiscourse on NAFTA. An “International Citizens’ Forum” of 300 trinational
representatives met in Zacatecas, Mexico, in October 1991, timed to coincide
with the third trade ministers’ NAFTA negotiations meeting. Billed as a
“counter-conference,” the meeting solidified a relationship of trust and mutual
direction among the trinational representatives, and endorsed a final
declaration that proposed a continental development alternative to the
proposed NAFTA. In addition to trade, this developmental alternative
emphasized development, democracy, self-determination and the elevation of
living standards, and represented a significant statement to those who had
criticized the Canadian anti-FTA campaign for its lack of a clear alternative to
the then proposed FTA.28
The year 1992 witnessed more extensive trinational collaborative efforts, both
sectorally and intersectorally, in opposition to the NAFTA negotiations.
Women’s organizations met in February 1992 to analyze shared threats posed
by NAFTA and the predicted social welfare cuts in the pact’s aftermath, while
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environmental groups from all three countries mobilized protests against toxic
waste dumping in the U.S.-Mexican border zone known as the maquiladoras.29
The January 1993 trinational agreement between trade ministers on the
NAFTA texts in Mexico City brought renewed trinational, intersectoral, social
collaboration, which focused specifically on mobilizing opposition to the
proposed accord in the U.S.30 In early March, activists from all three countries
lobbied members of Congress against NAFTA, sharing the experience of the
ACN during the FTA campaign, the economic conditions in Canada following
the implementation of the accord, and the conditions of the maquiladora zones
in an effort to convince members of Congress to vote against the accord.
In addition to this ongoing and expanding trinational networking, Canadian
groups maintained a parallel commitment to defending Canadian national
sovereignty through lobbying the federal government to abrogate or
renegotiate the NAFTA. The May 1993 “Reclaim our Future” mass action on
Parliament Hill drew an estimated 60,000 to 100,000 protestors from various
Canadian groups to oppose the Tories’ economic policies, including free
trade.31 Solidarity events also took place across Canada to represent those
groups and individuals unable to attend the mass rally, with a cross-country
caravan tour taking the anti-NAFTA message to various communities from
British Columbia to Newfoundland before arriving on Parliament Hill to
coincide with the mass action rally. The Fall 1993 “Campaign for Canada”
election protest campaign also knitted together various groups through the
COC and ACN in an effort to prevent the implementation of NAFTA before the
January 1, 1994 deadline. Groups targeted specific ridings across Canada with
mass action and education campaigns in an attempt to elect anti-FTA
candidates from either the NDP or Liberal parties. The election strategy
centrally hinged upon an improbable outcome: a defeat for the Progressive
Conservatives, and a minority government for the Liberals dependent upon the
staunchly anti-FTA NDP for coalition support.32
The Liberal’s October 1993 election to a comfortable majority, however, and
the Party’s subsequent implementation of NAFTA despite pre-election
promises to renegotiate the accord, forced groups in Canada to reevaluate the
near decade-long commitment to oppose free trade. Questions arose
concerning the direction and goals: Were the nation-state centered campaigns
characteristic of the previous anti-FTA and NAFTA mobilizations now
obsolete in the face of an emerging integrated continental economy? When
would it become necessary to stop pressuring a federal government and
fighting free trade, and focus energies instead towards improving human rights,
social welfare and democracy across the trinational communities in the face of
the continental economy?
The Post-NAFTA Strategy: Greater Transnational Activism
Certainly the late 1990s political context in Canada has become much less
favourable to sustained, pan-Canadian, national campaigns and mobilizations.
Domestic political alignments have shifted dramatically since the heady days
of the late-1980s anti-free trade campaign. The Spring of 1997 federal election
has done little to significantly alter the balance of domestic political
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opportunity in favour of social activist groups across Canada. True, the NDP,
historically sympathetic to the concerns of many social groups, managed to
resurface above official parliamentary status in the House of Commons. Yet,
the party remains chastened by a rank and file not bemused by the neoconservative record of provincial NDP governments, particularly of the former
Ontario government of Premier Bob Rae. Until recently, the federal party’s
record of poor leadership and policy disarray had left organized labour unclear
of its party allegiances, and contributed towards public cynicism of a party once
heralded as the replacement for the fractured Liberal party of the late 1980s.
The Liberal party, on the other hand, has continued where the Progressive
Conservative party left off, implementing NAFTA and other deficit-inspired
cutbacks to Canada’s social welfare system. Particularly harmful was the
Liberal’s pre-1993 election NAFTA renegotiation strategy, which coopted
many disaffected NDP supporters toward a massive electoral victory.33 The
Liberal’s 1997 reelection to another, albeit smaller, parliamentary majority,
suggests little in the way of significant policy changes in this direction. Thus, in
the wake of the 1997 federal election is a political arena bereft of viable political
allies to collaborate with social activist groups in significant parliamentary
interventions.
This constrained political context has especially affected the activities and
roles of the ACN, which has witnessed a significant shift in operations since the
heady days of anti-FTA and NAFTA campaigns. No longer the central
coordinator of national campaigns, it serves now as a facilitator of
communication between groups, providing assistance to various groups
seeking to build an activist base.34 Few groups seek to set up as in the past a panCanadian locus of leadership, and as a result, the networking and alliance
structures that characterized the anti-FTA campaigns have been replaced by
more ad hoc resistance at the sectional, regional and provincial level. Rather,
protests have flared notably in British Columbia, Quebec and especially in
Ontario against the deficit-driven social cutbacks of the Harris government.
The Fall 1996 Canadian Auto Worker’s (CAW) strike against General Motors,
and the Fall 1997 threatened but averted Ontario public sector strike, also
typified the prevailing sectoral as opposed to national campaigns reminiscent
of the anti-FTA and NAFTA era.
This retreat from larger national campaign mobilizations reflects in part the
lack of a overriding issue in the current post-NAFTA political context. The free
trade “glue” that united nationalist and other social groups in sustained
mobilizations has been replaced by more disparate challenges in the social,
economic and cultural realm. A preoccupation with provincial fight-back
struggles against social service cutbacks has left the many social groups across
Canada with little energy or resources for joint pan-Canadian mobilizations. As
the former ACN chair reflected amidst the post-NAFTA constraints, “the siege
mentality generated by the corporate agenda has shut down debate about viable
alternatives,” leaving “little energy” for work on “alternative policies and
strategies.”35
Moreover, the ongoing regionalization greatly encouraged by the continental
trade agreements, has severely retarded the appeal of pan-Canadian
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campaigns. The lack of a pan-Canadian political alternative further contributes
to this regionalization; the disappearance of viable, pan-Canadian national
parties outside of the Liberal government has further constrained the political
opportunity for mobilization. The NDP and Liberal political allies that
sustained and collaborated with the ACN and the COC during the anti-FTA
campaigns have either been temporarily discredited among the traditional rank
and file support base, or become severed from the record of previous
collaboration due to a refusal to renegotiate NAFTA.
In contrast to the current experience of the ACN, the COC continues to
experience a vitality and membership growth commensurate with its status as
one of the few alternative, pan-Canadian political vehicles left in the otherwise
political vacuum of the 1990s. The COC has applied lessons learned from the
anti-FTA campaigns to a significant shift in strategy and political
consciousness that addresses the challenges facing groups in an increasingly
integrated continental economy. It has moved beyond its often-criticized early
position as the mildly center-left component of the coalition to endorsing a
much more radical critique of prevailing forces of globalization and
governmental straightjacketing due to the unregulated power of transnational
corporations.
The growth in the Council’s membership is testament to its ability to evolve as
much as the appeal of its message. The COC’s membership has grown from
16,000 members during the 1988 FTA campaign, to over 90,000 in the Fall of
1997. A centerpiece of the Council’s rethinking is its new “Citizen’s Agenda
for Canada,”36 which emerged out of its 1994 annual general meeting as part of
the COC’s reevaluation of its decade-long struggle against free trade. The
Agenda reflects a major shift in mindset and strategy—from promoting
Canadian national sovereignty and pressuring governments to oppose free
trade—to directly challenging transnational corporations and cultivating links
with other citizen’s organizations in other countries. Where the NAFTA
trinational campaigns laid the groundwork, the post-NAFTA reality of
streamlined governments and mobile corporations has led the COC to question
the notion of sovereignty and the ability of the national political system to
represent adequately democracy and sovereign rights.37 This rethinking is
reflected in the thoughts of one former prominent anti-free trade organizer who
has argued now that “with the passage of NAFTA, the struggle for national
sovereignty is lost.”38
This refocus, however, does not mean that the COC has completely abandoned
its efforts to pressure the federal government and critique the ongoing effects of
the continental free trade agreements. It continues to work with other groups
across Canada in an attempt to pressure the federal government into taking
action to ensure greater accountability in those multinational corporations
spread throughout Canadian communities. What it does signal, however, is an
attempt to reinstall a sense of civic responsibility and action—popular
sovereignty on the domestic stage—as a natural precursor to executing national
sovereignty on the international stage. In this context, then, new targets and
corporate monitoring activities have been developed within the rubric of the
COC’s Citizen’s Agenda for Canada. Through recent “Action Link” bulletins,
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the COC has targeted the transnational giant Monsanto’s efforts to introduce
rBGH into Canada’s milk supply, the movement into the Canadian retail
market of the U.S. giant Walmart, and the OECD’s drafting of the Multilateral
Agreement on Investment (MAI).39 Its recent linking with the newly formed
MAI Network, which includes in addition to the COC such groups as the
Canadian Labour Congress and the Canadian Environmental Law Association
is a further effort to educate citizens and pressure the federal government on the
perceived dangers of the proposed MAI.
In addition to these still nation-centered campaigns that have focused on
transnational corporations and community-based resistance, the Citizen’s
Agenda has called for the strengthening of trinational and hemispheric
alliances.40 Building on the experiences of the trinational anti-NAFTA
coalitions, groups in July 1994 expanded into Chile, Columbia, Brazil and
Guatemala in anticipation of government attempts to stretch NAFTA across the
Western hemisphere. A July 1994 Mexico City international conference on
“Integration, Development and Democracy: Toward a Continental Social
Agenda,” drew 150 activists from across North and South America to develop a
communications network among hemispheric organizations. 41 The
conference’s participants also developed a final declaration calling for the
creation of a hemispheric social charter and network mechanisms to monitor
the ongoing social and economic effects of NAFTA. The Council’s Fall 1997
annual general meeting theme, “The Citizen’s Agenda in the Global
Economy,” typifies this new penchant for encouraging greater opportunities
for transnational education and activism. Other major events indicative of the
Council’s transnational focus include the co-hosting of an issue forum at the
alternative People’s Summit on APEC to coincide with the APEC leaders’
November summit in Vancouver, and the co-hosting of a global teach-in on
“Challenging Corporate Rule: a Citizens’ Politics for the 21st Century,” held in
Toronto in November.42
Common Frontiers has also continued to play a key role in encouraging groups
to coalesce across national borders around social and economic issues relevant
to the global economy. In response to then U.S. President George Bush’s
Enterprise for the America’s Initiative designed to promote hemispheric free
trade, Common Frontiers has networked with groups across Latin America.
One recent project, “Challenging Free Trade in the Americas,” drew from the
resources of the Canada-Chile Coalition for Fair Trade, encouraging
developmental alternatives to the NAFTA and export-oriented growth models
favoured by both governments concerned. 43 Other current efforts at
hemispheric and global popular education and resistance have included the
formation of the International Forum on Globalization, a progressive thinktank
of intellectuals and public figures from around the world dedicated to forging
democratic alternatives to corporate and economic globalization.44
Towards a Transnational Social Movement?
While unsuccessful in their bid to defeat the FTA in the 1988 federal election,
the 1988 anti-FTA campaign in Canada provided valuable lessons to associated
networking groups across the North American region. Previously rooted in a
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left-nationalist mindset that limited their interventionist potential in the face of
an already mobilized transnational business community, these groups
rebounded in the anti-NAFTA campaign by reaching across borders to
coalesce with groups in the U.S. and Mexico that similarly opposed NAFTA.
The post-NAFTA potential of hemispheric free trade has suggested a further
lesson for North American social groups: national governments may be
increasingly less willing or less able to exercise the degree of customary
political sovereignty in the face of constraints imposed by continental trade
agreements.
This does not suggest, however, that a new era of transnational North American
social movements has arrived. Clearly, globalization has encouraged the rise of
transnational political opportunities and expanded resources for continental, if
not global, mobilization. Transnational political exchange has accelerated,
with new transnational issue networks sprouting up across North America. The
internet has become a particularly crucial source for the dissemination and
exchange of educational information and resources between groups across
Canada and throughout the hemisphere. Yet, this pattern represents in
particular a case of the diffusion of tactics and strategy of Canadian movements
south through the U.S. and into Mexico. The era of the national political and
social movement has not been transcended, merely, significantly constrained.
Nonetheless, the actions of the various social activist groups discussed herein,
along with the evolution in the mobilization strategies, present several
significant avenues for further research. First, the Canadian case nicely
captures again how a changing political environment shapes the potential for
successful collective action. As the globalization of the world’s
economy—complemented by continental integration—places greater
constraints upon the state, the mobilization potential of domestic political
opportunity structures has declined. At the same time, the process of
negotiating and implementing NAFTA helped structure new transnational
opportunities for collective action, as groups across Canada sought out new
links with other social activist groups in the U.S. and Mexico. It is clear, then,
that changing international processes influence both domestic and
transnational opportunities for mobilization, shaping the forms and actions of
movements towards a more international focus. Further research on the
mobilizing role played by international processes would go far to strengthen the
analytic utility of the political opportunity concept, while discouraging a
continuation of the closed-polity bias characteristic of its recent application.
Moreover, it appears from evidence gleaned from the Canadian examples over
the past fifteen years that coalitions cut to the heart of what encourages and
sustains transnational collective action. While it has only been hinted at here,
the mechanics of transnational activism need to be analyzed in more detail, to
provide greater theoretical clarification on such issues. The development of a
theory of transnational coalition-building is in fact warranted. Whether such
theoretical construction could more profitably be drawn from past work on the
politics of party-parliamentary coalition building, or perhaps regime theory in
the field of international relations, are questions germane to further clarifying
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the increasingly prevalent role international processes play in influencing
domestic and transnational protest.
Finally, it would be interesting to see whether a North Americanization of
contentious politics is arising out of the effects of greater continental
integration imposed by NAFTA. Scholars analyzing the effects of the
integration dynamic inherent in the European Union project have increasingly
focused on whether a Europeanization of contention has arisen against EU
institutions by the citizens of varied European countries.45 Clearly, the EU
project offers new international, political opportunities, including new targets,
potential alliance partners, and alignments on which to focus transnational
strategies. The results of early research into this area are mixed, however, as to
whether domestic actors grasp these new potentials and have begun to include
them within the arsenal of collective action mobilization strategies. By the
same token, clearly NAFTA significantly changed the political opportunity
structures available to social activist groups across the North American
continent, but more research is needed before general statements can be offered
on the establishment of a sustained North American conflict system.
Will popular sovereignty replace national sovereignty as a major theme around
which people will organize and mobilize across North America? By both their
actions and goals, increasing numbers of people drawn from labour, church,
academic, environmental and other hemispheric organizations have drawn a
blueprint in that direction. However, despite the strides made in both expanding
international consciousness and trinational strategic coalition-building over
the past decade, the effects of this ongoing activity have not been significantly
noticed by the wider national publics across this vast region. This experience
suggests that while organizational networking across North America marks a
significant transnational leap forward in cross-border cooperation at the level
of civil society, the broader publics of Canada, the U.S. and Mexico remain
rooted in the familiar confines of the nation-state.46 That these publics remain
rooted in these collective images of the sovereign nation-state in the face of
dramatic and ongoing integration at the financial, trade and policy levels
underscores the difficult dilemmas facing those groups still seeking to debate
the implications such economic integration holds for democracy and social
welfare in this North American region.
Notes
1.
2.
120
The emergence of a wider North American community has been an area of increasingly
productive research for scholars. For a selective list of works falling under this domain, see
Ronald Inglehart, Neil Nevitte and Miguel Basanez, The North American Trajectory:
Cultural, Economic, and Political Ties among the United States, Canada, and Mexico (New
York: Aldine de Gruyter, 1996); Charles F. Doran and Alvin Paul Drischler, (eds.), A New
North America: Cooperation and Enhanced Interdependence (Westport, CT: Praeger,
1996); Donald Barry, (ed.), Toward a North American Community? Canada, the United
States, and Mexico (Boulder, CO: Westview Press, 1995); and Jean Daudelin and Edgar J.
Dosman, (eds.), Beyond Mexico: Changing Americas (Ottawa: Carleton University Press,
1995).
Clearly, movements depend on more than favourable political conditions to sustain
concerted drives of successful protest. An emerging synthesis of research indicates that in
addition to political opportunities, social movement organizations and mobilizing framings
play key supportive and mediating roles in enhancing the mobilization potential of
movements. See Doug McAdam, John D. McCarthy and Mayer N. Zald, (eds.),
Comparative Perspectives on Social Movements: Political Opportunities, Mobilizing
Structures, and Cultural Framings (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996).
3.
The research on the supportive role played by political processes and political opportunity
structures has grown too large to mention here. Tarrow’s recent works provide perhaps the
best and most authoritative introduction and synthesis of this field. See Sidney Tarrow,
Power in Movement: Social Movements, Collective Action and Politics (New York and
Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1994) and “Social Movements in Contentious
Politics: A Review Article,” American Political Science Review 90(4)(December 1996), pp.
874-883.
4.
See Doug McAdam, “Conceptual Origins, Current Problems, Future Directions,” in Doug
McAdam, John D. McCarthy and Mayer N. Zald, (eds.), Comparative Perspectives on
Social Movements: Political Opportunities, Mobilizing Structures, and Cultural Framings
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996), pp. 23-40.
5.
For two examples of this emerging field of research, see Jeffrey M. Ayres, Defying
Conventional Wisdom: Political Movements and Popular Contention Against North
American Free Trade (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1998) and Margaret E. Keck
and Kathryn Sikkink, Activists Beyond Borders: Advocacy Networks in International
Politics (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1998).
6.
For an excellent overview of the contending strands and stronger and weaker positions of
this globalization of social movements thesis, see Doug McAdam, Sidney Tarrow and
Charles Tilly, “To Map Contentious Politics,” Mobilization: an International Journal 1(1),
pp. 17-34.
7.
For related work on this subject, see David J. Elkins, Beyond Sovereignty: Territory and
Political Economy in the Twenty-First Century (Toronto: University of Toronto Press,
1995); Warren Magnusson, The Search for Political Space: Globalization, Social
Movements, and the Urban Political Experience (Toronto: University of Toronto Press,
1996); and Gary Teeple, Globalization and the Decline of Social Reform (Toronto:
Garamond Press, Ltd., 1995).
8.
See Philip Resnick, Thinking English Canada (Toronto: Stoddart, 1994) and Gordon
Gibson, Plan B: the Future of the Rest of Canada (Vancouver: the Fraser Institute, 1994) for
good examples of this emerging trend.
9.
Tony Clarke, “Coalition-Building: Towards a Social Movement for Economic Justice,”
Policy Alternatives (Spring-Summer 1983), pp. 29-32.
10. Gatt-Fly, Ah-Hah! A New Approach to Popular Education (Toronto: Between the Lines,
1983).
11. See Dennis Howlett, “Social Movement Coalitions: New Possibilities for Social Change,”
Canadian Dimension (November-December 1989).
12. For details of the events of that summer, and of the high promise and dashed hopes of
coalition participants, see both Bryan D. Palmer, Solidarity: the Rise and Fall of an
Opposition in British Columbia (Vancouver: New Star Books, 1987) and Bruce Magnusson
et al., (ed.), The New Reality: the Politics of Restraint in British Columbia (Vancouver: New
Star Books, 1984).
13. Canadian Conference of Catholic Bishops, “Ethical Reflections on the Economic Crisis,”
(Ottawa: Concacan Inc., 1983).
14. Canadian Union of Public Employees, “The Development of Coalition Politics in Canada in
Recent Years,” (Ottawa: CUPE, April 1992).
15. For details on these major protest events, see “Pro-Canada Network Leaders Present
Petitions to Opposition Leaders,” Pro-Canada Dossier 12 (June 1, 1988); “June
12th—Canadians Across the Country Show Opposition to Trade Deal,” Pro-Canada
Dossier 13 (June 27, 1988).
16. The Pro-Canada Network, “What’s the Big Deal: Some Straightforward Questions and
Answers on Free Trade,” Ottawa, Ontario, October 1988. Over 2.2 million copies of the
booklet were distributed in the majority of the major metropolitan areas across English
Canada, with the text and cartoon captions strategically translated for distribution in major
French-language newspapers in Quebec as well.
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17.
18.
19.
20.
21.
22.
23.
24.
25.
26.
27.
28.
29.
122
See Terrance Wills, “Free Trade Foes to Use Flashy Magazine to Fight Deal,” Montreal
Gazette, 21 September 1988 and Christopher Waddel, “Pamphlet Attacking Free Trade
Shakes Up Voters,” Globe and Mail, 26 October 1988.
Doern and Tomlin report that by 1987 the Alliance had already run full-page, pro-FTA
advertisements in major newspapers across Canada, and between its formation and the
election, its members had been active in more than 500 free trade conferences, meetings and
press briefings held across the country, spending roughly over three million dollars on proFTA materials between March 1987 and April 1988. Bruce Doern and Brian Tomlin, Faith
and Fear: the Free Trade Story (Toronto: Stoddart, 1991), p. 220.
The Alliance responded by producing its own four-page cartoon booklet entitled, “Straight
Talk on Free Trade,” five million copies of which were placed in 42 daily newspapers across
Canada in early November.
For more detailed analyses of the role played by big business advertising during the free
trade election campaign, see Janet Hiebert, “Interest Groups and Canadian Federal
Elections,” in F. Leslie Seidle, (ed.), Interest Groups and Elections in Canada, Volume Two
of the Research Studies, Royal Commission on Electoral Reform and Party Financing,
Minister of Supply and Services Canada, 1991. For somewhat less systematic views, see
Nick Fillmore, “The Big Oink: How Business Won the Free Trade Battle,” This Magazine 22
(March-April 1989) and Linda McQuaid, The Quick and the Dead: Brian Mulroney, Big
Business, and the Seduction of Canada (Toronto: Viking, 1991).
Pro-FTA groups spent $0.77 for every $1.00 of the Conservative party advertising budget,
while anti-FTA groups spent $0.13 for every dollar spent by the opposition Liberals and
NDP. Hiebert, “Interest Groups,” p. 20.
At the December 1988 (3-5) PCN Assembly, the representatives of participating
organizations reached the consensus that the PCN should continue to build an opposition
movement against the FTA “and related aspects of the larger neo-conservative agenda.” The
March 1990 (11-12) Assembly thus developed a working instrument designed to lead the
PCN in that direction. “The Next Four Years? A Working Instrument on the Future
Directions of the Pro-Canada Network,” PCN Assembly March 11-12, 1989.
The Pro-Canada Network changed its name to the Action Canada Network at the 14th
Annual Network Assembly, held in Ottawa April 5, 1991. The name change sought to appeal
to Quebeckers alienated by the symbolism in the “Pro-Canada” name. Elias Stavrides,
“Network changes name at April 5 event,” Action Canada Dossier, 31 (May-June 1991), p.
9.
The book Crossing the Line, emerged as a trinational collective critique in the Summer of
1992 to the NAFTA texts negotiated to that point. It is a useful reference for those seeking
both the joint and unique critical contributions of Canadian, U.S. and Mexican activists
involved in the trinational counter-mobilizing against NAFTA. See Jim Sinclair, ed.,
Crossing the Line: Canada and Free Trade with Mexico (Vancouver: New Star Books,
1992).
The steering committee organizations of Common Frontiers as of 1996 included the
Canadian Labour Congress, the Canadian Autoworkers Union, the United Steelworkers, the
Canadian Environmental Law Association, the Latin American Working Group, the
Ecumenical Coalition for Economic Justice, Oxfam Canada, and the Solidarity
Works/Maquila Network.
“Canada should keep out of continental trade deal: PCN chair,” The Pro-Canada Dossier, 26
(June 18, 1990), p. 1.
Randy Robinson, “Canadian visit ignite debate in Mexico,” Pro-Canada Dossier, 28
(November 5, 1990), p. 2.
“International Forum Highlights,” Continental Development Alternative, Zacatecas,
Mexico, October 25-27, Action Canada Dossier, 34, (November-December 1991), p. 6. See
also Tony Clarke, “Alternative Proposals for Development and Trade,” Action Canada
Dossier, 34, (November-December 1991): pp. 13-15, for insights into the developmental
alternatives proposed by the ACN and the Common Frontiers project.
Fronteras Comunes/CECOPE (translated by Nick Keresztesi), “Fighting Free Trade,
Mexican Style,” Crossing the Line: Canada and Free Trade with Mexico (Vancouver: New
Star Books, 1992), pp. 128-136.
30.
31.
32.
33.
34.
35.
36.
37.
38.
39.
40.
41.
42.
43.
44.
45.
46.
The major intersectoral coalitions opposed to the NAFTA accord by 1993 included the
Canadian ACN and COC, the U.S.-based Citizen’s Trade Campaign, and the Mexican
Action Network on Free Trade.
The discrepancy in attendance figures reported by the Globe and Mail versus organizers of
the event was typical of the running ideological and verbal battle between Canada’s selfproclaimed “national newspaper” and the COC and ACN. See for example, Scott Feschuk,
“Protestors Bash Rae as well as Mulroney,” Globe and Mail, 17 May 1993, A6, and Maude
Barlow, “Rally Was Focused,” Letters to the Editor, Globe and Mail, 20 May 1993.
“Council of Canadians Campaign for Canada,” Canadian Perspectives, Special Campaign
Issue, Autumn 1993, pp. 4-5.
“The Liberals and Free Trade: A Two-Faced Policy,” Canadian Perspectives, Special
Election Issue, Autumn 1993, p. 6.
Action Canada Network, Annual Report 1995/96, Ottawa, Ontario, p. 1.
Tony Clarke, “Setting a People’s Agenda,” Action Canada Dossier, 39 (Fall 1993), p. 2.
“A Citizen’s Agenda for Canada: Building a Movement and Renewing the Council,” pp. 1213.
“Reclaiming Our Sovereignty: A Citizen’s Agenda for Canada,” Canadian Perspectives,
Winter 1995, pp. 10-11.
Tony Clarke, “Community-Based Resistance: the New Battle Front,” Canadian
Perspectives Winter 1994, p. 9.
See for example, the Council of Canadians Action Alert, Vol. 1, Issue 1, May 1994, that
introduces the COC’s anti-WalMart campaign: “Up Against the Wal: A Campaign Primer.”
“Building a Movement and Renewing the Council,” Canadian Perspectives, Winter 1994,
pp. 12-13.
Pharis Harvey, “North-South Organizing and Hemispheric Free Trade,” Canadian
Perspectives, Autumn 1994, p. 22.
See Victoria Gibb-Carsley, “Building International Solidarity: Fighting Back Against the
Global Corporate Agenda,” Canadian Perspectives, Fall 1997, p. 10.
The Canada-Chile Coalition for Fair Trade included such social activist groups as: Canadian
Labour Congress, Central Unitaria de Trabajadores, Red Nacional de Acción Ecologica,
Environmental Mining Council of B.C., Red Chileana para una Iniciativa de los Pueblos,
United Steelworkers of America, National Office, Confederación Minera de Chile,
Canadian Autoworkers, Communication, Energy and Paperworkers, CONSTRAMETChile, Canadian Environmental Law Association, Canadian Union of Public Employees,
Fédération des travailleurs du Québec, British Columbia Federation of Labour, Common
Frontiers.
Maude Barlow, “How Transnational Corporations have replaced Governments and what
Canadians can do about it,” the third annual Peter McGregor Memorial Lecture on Social
Concerns, November 4, 1996, Sault Ste. Marie, Ontario.
Some early returns on this angle of research include Gary Marks and Doug McAdam,
“Social Movements and the Changing Structure of Political Opportunity in the European
Union,” West European Politics, 19 (2)(April 1996), pp. 249-278 and Sidney Tarrow, “The
Europeanization of Conflict: Reflections from a Social Movement Perspective,” West
European Politics, 18 (2)(April 1995), pp. 223-251.
Perhaps the work of Inglehart et al., however, suggests some movement among the broader
publics in that direction as well, as research suggests attitudinal convergence along a variety
of civic measures. See Neil Nevitte, Miguel Basanez and Ronald Inglehart, “Directions of
Value Change in North America,” in Stephen J. Randall and Herman W. Konrad, (eds.),
NAFTA in Transition (Calgary: University of Calgary Press, 1995), p. 343.
123
Donna R. McLean
A Rhetorical Analysis of the Canadian Free Trade
Debate: Establishing a Framework to Interpret
Free Trade through Historical Premise,
Orientation Metaphors and Dissociation
Abstract
This study examines the rhetorical use of history reflective of either a
nationalist (anti-free trade perspective) or a globalist (pro-free trade
perspective) present in free trade discussions occurring throughout the
1980s. Through application of Gronbeck’s two conceptual approaches to the
use of history, this investigation chronicles dissenting advocates’ efforts to
create a sense of “natural order” mandatory to ground or compel their
globalist or nationalist policy positions. While the globalist perspective is
established through the use of an historical timeline focused on an idealized
end state, (a globally integrated free market system), the nationalist
perspective is established through a view of history idealizing the nation’s
beginnings and calling for continuation of the same sovereignty struggles.
The rhetorical analysis not only illustrates how each side of the controversy
constructs an historical time line capable of presenting a coherent orientation
to the free trade issue, but further explains how these historical premises are
contextualized through the use of orientation metaphors and dissociations.
Résumé
Cette étude se penche sur l’utilisation rhétorique de l’histoire qui témoigne soit de
la perspective nationaliste (hostile au libre-échange) ou de la perspective
mondialiste (favorable au libre-échange), toutes deux également présentes dans les
débats sur le libre-échange qui se sont déroulés tout au long des années 1980. En
appliquant les deux approches conceptuelles de l’utilisation de l’histoire élaborées
par Gronbeck, cette enquête fait la chronique des efforts déployés par les parties
adverses à ce débat pour créer un sens de « l’ordre naturel » indispensable quand
il s’agit pour elles de fonder ou d’imposer leurs positions de politique mondialistes
ou nationalistes. Tandis que la perspective mondialiste s’appuie sur l’utilisation
d’une chronologie historique centrée sur un état final idéalisé (un système de
marché libre qui serait intégré à l’échelle de la planète), la perspective nationaliste
s’inscrit quant à elle dans une vision de l’Histoire qui idéalise l’origine de la nation
et nous invite à perpétuer les mêmes luttes pour la souveraineté. Non seulement
l’analyse rhétorique illustre-t-elle la façon dont chacune des parties constitue un
récit historique visant à imprimer une orientation cohérente à sa position dans le
débat sur le libre-échange, mais encore elle explique comment l’usage des
dissociations et métaphores de l’orientation inscrivent ces prémisses historiques
dans un certain contexte.
IJCS / RIÉC
One might have concluded that debate about free trade within Canada, the
United States and Mexico would stop once the North American Free Trade
Agreement was signed. Yet, even today, debate over,
what the historical record reveals about free trade, to the role
governments should play in shaping economic policy, to how nations
and workers are affected as market barriers fall [continues to rage]. At
stake is not merely the direction of . . . trade policy but which type of
intellectual—and what kind of knowledge—ought to guide public
discourse on an issue of burning political importance. Arguments on
this score are, as it happens, nearly as old as the theory of free trade
itself. Back in the 1840s, . . . Friedrich List observed . . . that the
“widest possible gulf separates the men of theory from the men of
practice when it comes to discussing free trade” (Press, 31).
In the 1980s, Warnock claimed, “there was no question that everyone,
opponents and defenders, could agree that free trade with the United States
would represent the most far reaching change that Canada faced since
Confederation” (9). Today, Eyal Press maintains that “the astonishing spread
of free trade, which has lowered wages, eroded national sovereignty, and led to
a resurgence of sweatshops and other nineteenth century ills . . . has made free
trade among the most talked-about, polarizing issues in American politics”
(30). Indeed, Press maintains, that contemporary debates about economic
globalization have pitted free trade critics squarely against economists, who
some contend “have always had ‘difficulties grasping realities that did not
appear in tabular form’” (30).
Possible free trade agreements with the United States and political approaches
to the free trade issue have been discussed frequently in Canada since 1854. In
fact, discussions and efforts to secure a free trade agreement with the United
States occurred in 1869, 1871, 1874, 1879, 1911, 1947, the 1970s and, most
recently in early 1980-81. The Canadian free trade debates, preceding the
Canada-U.S. Free Trade agreement of 1988, ought to be considered especially
useful for an examination of the historical premise in argument, since with each
re-presentation of the free trade question, one would expect that rhetors would
be forced to recognize and deal with previous efforts to resolve the same
problem in the past. An issue which recurs would bring its own historical
interpretation, prior argumentative frameworks, and past associations and
identifications. New advocates may strive to reframe the issue elevating certain
conditions as they minimize others, but they cannot hope to ignore the history of
the issue itself. Instead, they must work to contextualize that history in order to
justify renewed interest, a change in policy, or the same intensity which
resolved the issue favourably in the past. In early efforts to frame an issue, or to
define the parameters and effects of a policy, advocates must struggle to present
a coherent orientation toward the problem to establish its significance and to
justify public discussion and attention. The use of historical premise in
argument may assist with this process, even as the premises imply or mandate
policy outcomes.
In 1991, Bruce Gronbeck addressed the challenge of historical premise
through a review of two studies examining the relationship between history
and argument (Hanson, 1991; Zarefsky, 1991). Despite his call for further
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A Rhetorical Analysis of the Canadian Free Trade Debate
examination of the uses of history in argument, to date, there have been few
attempts to examine this relationship through case studies. Accordingly, this
paper explains how historical premises were used in public policy argument
about free trade to frame interpretations of the present. Through a case study
analysis of historical premises in opposing messages about the Canadian Free
Trade Agreement, this paper addresses the following research questions:
1.
What rhetorical resources may advocates employ to assist in the
creation or maintenance of an historical time line or conceptual
representation of history in order to either support or oppose an
abstract and complicated proposal like the North American Free
Trade Agreement?
2. How do oppositional advocates employ historical premises to
counter or diminish the argumentative positions of their
opponents, or more specifically, how did free trade opponents
argue against the messages of free trade supporters and vice
versa?
To answer these questions, this study examines how historical premise,
metaphor and dissociation established conflicting frameworks for interpreting
the Canadian free trade debate by: (1) discussing the Canadian free trade debate
and its rhetorical challenges; (2) examining Gronbeck’s two contrasting
orientations to history to explain the assumptions and characteristics common
to each; (3) investigating the use of historical time lines and employment of
strategic metaphors to ensure coherency and clarity in interpreting the history
leading up to and beyond passage of the free trade agreement; (4) relating how
three “key” dissociations helped to stabilize the two competing time lines,
while at the same time countering oppositional, argumentative frames and
justifying conflicting views of history; and finally, (5) drawing conclusions to
clarify the results of this case study and its relevance to scholars examining or
using historical premise in argument.
The Canadian Free Trade Debate
Ironically, although some scholars contend that “free trade,” as a hypothetical
construct or ideal, may never become a concrete or achievable reality, debate
about the institution of free trade became a divisive barrier separating various
Canadian public interest groups, political advocates and active members of the
nation’s public throughout the 1980s. A complex and troublesome matter, the
reintroduction of free trade as an issue in the 1980s posed three essential
rhetorical problems for disputants: (a) the inaccessibility of the complicated
free trade agreement itself which consisted of “over 1,100 pages, including 196
pages of text divided into 8 parts with 21 chapters, as well as voluminous
schedules, annexes and algebraic formulae” (Bowker, 25); (b) the agreement’s
reliance on economic theory as a basis for credibility, means of analysis, and
criteria for veracity, despite claims that “although economics can tell quite
brilliant stories about the past . . . economics does not predict the future well”
(McCloskey, 175); and (c) the largely inequitable and uneven regional effects
of the proposed accord which dictated the loss of jobs and money for certain
industries, even as it assured gains and stability for other sectors of
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IJCS / RIÉC
employment. Yet, while these rhetorical challenges lead to passionate pleas
from various interested parties, much of Canada seemed concerned about the
issue in one way or another. The government budgeted $24 million dollars to
promote and publicize the agreement and Bowker explained in 1988 that copies
of her analysis, presenting the agreement in simple, factual terms, were daily
requested by hundreds of citizens from the Print 2000 office in Ottawa
(Bowker, 103). Despite the issue’s relevance, however, even “International
Trade Minister John Crosbie, the principal government salesman for the
agreement, freely admitted on June 27 in Montreal that he had not read the
entire text of the agreement and that he did not plan to do so” (Bowker, 16).
Canada had rejected free trade with the United States in the past. Why then, was
the issue such a hotly disputed cause, given the abstract and unclear nature of
the controversy? Perhaps part of this question may be answered through
examination of advocates’ and opponents’ use of historical premise in their
argumentative framing and discussion of the free trade question. But, prior to
an examination of the historical premises employed throughout the free trade
debates, this study first presents two alternative approaches to the use of history
articulated by Gronbeck. These two perspectives on historical premise, while
not considered mutually exclusive, present a helpful framework from which to
examine the possible use of historical premise in a public policy dispute.
Gronbeck’s Two Approaches to Historical Premise in Argument
Gronbeck (1991) suggests two alternative views of arguing from history. The
first reflects history as a continuum which extends from an original starting
point to a presumed or ideal end-state. The second concept of history is
established through the bracketing of relationships which a scholar or scientist
abstracts for the very understanding which the comparison may provide. This
version of history assumes that pivotal events may cycle and recycle through
time. As A. L. Rowse argues, “there is no one rhythm or plot in history; but there
are rhythms, plots, patterns, even repetitions. So that it is possible to make
generalizations and to draw lessons” (20). From insight of how related events
develop, therefore, the public achieves new understanding.
Genetic Argument/Argument from History 1
Gronbeck describes his first perspective of historical argument as “genetic
argument or argument from history 1” (96). Within this argumentative
approach, a rhetor may strive to explain the history of any subject in one of two
ways. First the speaker may create a time line, resonant with a belief in
progressivism, which suggests that something has advanced in a forward
direction from its past toward its future along some plotable course. For
example, an environmentalist could suggest that humans, through their
persistent use of CFCs and other chemical substances, have contributed to an
ever-widening opening in the ozone layer. From the suggested time line, or the
plotting of the subject’s course, we may at any point track the development of
the “ozone hole” to better illumine the steps in the progress of the subject over
time. This evolutionary view of time evokes a continuous development, where
a pattern is established along a series of events or happenings.
128
The second form of genetic argument also views history in a linear fashion, but
it projects back to an idealized beginning rather than forward to a prescribed
end. For example, an environmentalist might point to early development of the
planet, representative of a more wholesome naturalism and better ecological
balance. If such a state more accurately represents the ideal-balance or end state
for the planet, the environmentalist will urge others to return to this condition,
reforming the culture in alignment with the desired end. In this manner, implicit
policies are mandated. Earth must restrict population, reduce reliance on
technology and employ more holistic, ecological practices to allow the
environment to reassert its former dominance, as it replenishes diminishing
resources.
Whether projecting forward to an ideal which has been building and developing
over time, or back to an object’s assumed original and more perfect state,
genetic arguments are based on the construction or reconstruction of an ideal
established historically. Advocates prescribe this ideal state of the
subject/object in order to contend that the “represented state” embodies the
“real” or “true spirit” of the subject/object (96). Gronbeck explains such
emphasis on “ideal-end states often assume a moral ideal, urging reform
movement toward the desired end-state” (96).
Both of these historical visions imply similar characteristics. First, they are
both interpreted linearly. As Gronbeck mentions, they “depend upon a
temporal sequence for their power, upon an audience’s willingness to see
history as a chain of events that runs back to a beginning and on into a future”
(97). Second, history is seen to evolve through the temporal, furthered in its
imperative through the use of narrative. For, as Gronbeck states, “genetic
arguments are empowered by their stories, more technically, the unfolding
narratives that are their data” (97). And finally, genetic argument relies on the
teleological belief that “purpose or design are a part of or are apparent in nature”
(Stein, 1460).
To oppose genetic argument, Gronbeck claims that one must assert that “events
do not unfold so continuously as a disputant would have us believe” (97). For,
“genetic arguments either return us to some starting-point, presumably to some
ancient tradition we are urged to revive, or guide us toward some end-point,
presumably toward some state of being that history aims at” (98).
Analogical Arguments/Arguing from History 2
While genetic arguments reflect a history based on a sequence of events which
evolve over time, analogical arguments depend upon an advocate’s ability to
bracket certain events in order to illumine regularities, repetitions, cycles or
familiar patterns which lend clarity to possible causes and effects within the set
of events. As Gronbeck reports, analogical arguments may “reference a whole
class of arguments that assert important similarities and other relationships
between two or more persons, places, things, or events in order to support a
disputable proposition” (97). When two cases are similar enough in terms of
degree or magnitude, then the advocate may “abstract and loosen from their
situations so as to help us understand other events in other situations in ‘the
same way’” (97). For example, returning to the environmental topic discussed
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earlier, scientists could argue that the ozone hole has varied in size at two
particular points in time. From description of these two events, scientists might
note associated conditions, whether related to climate, astronomy, volcanic
activity, pollution patterns, or the presence or absence of seismic activity. From
understanding the similarities and differences between the two related
conditions, new historical understanding leads to new interpretations about the
cause of ozone depletion, the connection between the ozone hole and the upper
atmosphere, and the connection between ozone depletion and earth events.
Much like genetic argument, analogical argument possesses certain common
characteristics. First, analogical arguments rely more on the spatial than the
temporal. For, as Gronbeck explains they “depend upon spatial
configurations—spatial in the sense of visually biased patterns of causes and
effects . . . [Because] the introduction of science into history-writing brought a
kind of visuality or spatiality to its discourse, [with] depictions of causes
pushing on people and events to produce observable effects in patterns we can
abstract and ‘look’ at” (97). Second, analogical arguments tend to have a
cyclical nature to them, dependent upon the historian’s analysis of key
relationships within the bracketed time period. In contrast to genetic
arguments, analogical arguments have “little to do with purpose or necessity in
any grand sense . . . One could assert that any two events can be aligned for a
check of similarities, and that from such an exercise we presumably could learn
something useful” (98).
Gronbeck maintains that to argue counter to an analogical argument, a speaker
must work to invalidate the very discontinuousness suggested by the argument
itself. Thus, a rhetor suggests that some happening is better understood as a long
series of events, occurring through time, rather than as a repeated cycle or
pattern brought on or dispensed by a series of causes and effects.
Use of Historical Premise to Argue For or Against the Canadian Free
Trade Agreement
One would expect that pivotal to any discussion of a recurring issue would be
the means used to test conflicting interpretations of history. In this endeavour,
advocates struggle to question the certitude of presented continuums, or the
relevance of bracketed patterns. Yet, although discussion during and after the
Canadian free trade debates attempted to explain possible differences in
interpretation of the trade deal according to motivation, values, professional
training or ideology, scholars have largely ignored the significance of the
rhetorical strategies employed in the messages to create an orientation toward
the abstract issue.
Several analysts and opinion leaders suggested that essential differences in
position could be attributed to either class distinctions (reflected by aggressive
posturing on the part of big business), or conflicting economic theories.
Warnock summarizes both of these perspectives. First, he relates that free trade
polarized the country along political and class lines, revealing the
polarity that already existed. The reality was that support for free trade
came almost exclusively from big business and its ideological
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supporters, while opposition came primarily from the private sectors:
labor, women, farmers, poor people, native Canadians, environmentalists,
people in the arts, senior citizens, peace activists, and the established
churches (22).
Second, Warnock affirms that at its root, “free trade and the free market . . . are
part of the ideology of orthodox economics. They are part of a system of beliefs
or ideas that tries to explain and justify the economic and social divisions of
capitalism” (79). From insight into these value differences, one may speculate
about or document the underlying needs or motivations related to different
sides of the issue. Or as Warnock postulated, one might point to the “rise of the
new right” as the pivotal force behind promotion and acceptance of free trade.
But, this still does not explain how spokespersons, on either side, managed to
create a coherent orientation toward the issue for the general public, nor how
they persuasively defined free trade acceptance or rejection in terms which the
public, neither economist, lawyer nor politician, could understand.
This paper, therefore, examines the messages of various free trade advocates
and opponents including: intellectuals, politicians, businesspeople and labour
organizations, to determine how these speakers were able to construct a
positive or negative orientation to the free trade agreement for the general
public. It would be impossible to assess all comments, presentations, editorials,
and popular and academic literature about free trade. Instead, this study
examines collected messages from the C. D. Howe Institute, policy debates
from the Institute for Research on Public Policy, reports like the Royal
Commission on the Economic Union and Development Prospects For Canada
Report, various Progressive Conservative and Liberal speeches, and messages
published in widely circulated books such as If you love this country and the
Facts on free trade. Throughout these messages, historical premises are used
with supporting metaphors and dissociative strategies to create a sense of
natural order toward an idealized future or back to an idealized beginning and to
establish value hierarchies for or against free trade.
Interestingly, both advocates and opponents of free trade primarily employ a
linear conception of history. Free trade advocates, however, suggest the
agreement is the culmination of patterns and practices building within and
around the nation for a long period of time. To emphasize the importance of
trade liberalization, some of these speakers employ analogical argument to
contend that every time protectionist measures are attempted, economic peril
ensues, which subsequently mandates a new drive to secure and improve
market access.
Opponents, in contrast, seem to suggest two temporal continuums, one which
charts the development of Canada as a sovereign nation, and another which
chronicles the failure of the United States, its decline and decay. Through
documentation of negative trends within the United States, free trade
opposition suggests that Canadians, with acceptance of the deal, tie themselves
to the same deteriorating conditions and upheaval already witnessed in the U.S.
They further contend that it is the merging of the two continuum which present
the greatest danger to Canada, for it is by acceptance of “American ways” that
Canada gambles its identity and standard of living. This goal of rejecting
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American policies and practices is enhanced through analogical argument
detailing past efforts to negotiate and deal with the United States which,
according to several rhetors, always seem to result in diminished returns and
unfair advantage.
With this general overview, analysis turns to the advocates’ use of history, in
order to chronicle their efforts to: (a) establish legitimacy for free trade through
a description of Canadian development as a persistent drive to secure enlarged
markets; and (b) use of an inward/outward orientation metaphor to establish the
free trade agreement as a necessary precursor to the stable and prosperous
vision of Canada idealized in their continuum.
Free Trade Advocacy: Use of Genetic Argument to Establish
Legitimacy
By suggesting a temporal continuum, proponents contend that Canadians must
continue progress toward an already prescribed conclusion, an idealized endstate. For example, legitimizing its proposition to support free trade as an
historical precedent, government reports suggest that
state/market relations raise central questions of democratic politics
and economic policy. Canadians had one version of the state role at
Confederation. The central economic goals of Confederation were to
enlarge the domestic market by political union, which would remove
tariff barriers between the colonies, extend the New Dominion to the
Pacific, populate the Prairies with immigrants, provide the
transportation infrastructure which the new technology of the
railways facilitated, and enhance credit rating on London markets.
The national government was given major economic powers
according to the understanding of the Fathers of Confederation
(Ministry of Supply and Services Canada, 1985, 43).
The above position, articulated in the MacDonald Commission report,
establishes a value hierarchy dominated by economic policy initiatives.
Further, the comments suggest that access to larger markets was the pivotal
force establishing the nation. Other advocates establish shorter time lines based
on realities experienced in the twentieth century. For example, Lipsey
(November 1987) contends that the free trade agreement “comes close to
completing the program of opening the Canadian economy to foreign trade that
began in 1935” (5). In fact, “free trade with the United States does not represent
a dramatic alteration in Canadian economic policy. With a few twists and turns,
Canadian economic policy over the past 50 years has been one of liberalizing
trade” (5).
Throughout, free trade advocates suggest a time line based on a natural order of
events. And the hallmark of this natural order is economic policy. While the
length of the presented “natural order” may differ according to each speaker,
each advocate attests to its importance in the stabilization of Canada.
Accordingly, Prime Minister Mulroney (September 26, 1985) argues that “for
half a century Canada has pursued a policy of trade liberalization. Today, more
than ever, our prosperity and that of our partners depends on an expanding
world trade and a growing world economy” (74).
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While advocates chronicle the positive steps leading to the current free trade
agreement, they also contrast such efforts with the negative outcomes which
result when countries divert from the economic “natural order.” For example,
they warn that “five decades ago, national governments turned inward to shield
their peoples from economic distress. Ultimately, protectionism proved
suicidal. It brought on the Great Depression with all its attendant misery” (74).
Mulroney continues that, “no responsible person anywhere today advocates
protectionism as a national economic strategy. Yet, sector by sector, region by
region, country by country, Canada included, there persists the impulse to
protectionism whenever the going gets tough. Protectionist measures are
always advocated as exceptional cases” (74).
In effect, the time line and its implied positive results are clarified through use
of inward-outward orientation metaphors which associate free trade with
growth, prosperity and self-actualization. For example, the government
contends,
the agreement offers Canadians a choice—a choice between looking
outward and building bridges to other lands; or looking inward and
building walls around our country. It is a challenge for all of us: a
challenge to seize the opportunities in the largest and most dynamic
market in the world and to use those opportunities as a springboard to
other lands . . . Only through a more open and secure trading system
can all nations develop their full potential and help their peoples
(International Trade Communications Group, 13).
Or, as Lipsey and York remark,
if the Agreement keeps Canadian policy looking outward, it will have
done its job, irrespective of the specific gains that it undoubtedly
achieves. To reject the Agreement is to give up major gains in market
access and to risk turning Canadian policies in the wrong direction—
away from accepting the new realities of globalization and toward the
now-obsolete inward-looking policies of the 1970s (7).
For, “a widely held belief among the architects of post-war economic policy
was that openness to the international economy was compatible with domestic
economic management” (Ministry of Supply and Services Canada, 1985, 45).
Even though, as Mulroney (September 26, 1985) warns, “barriers grow more
numerous, more ingenious and more insidious all the time” (74-75).
From both a contemporary and historical perspective, therefore, advocates
document the inward impulse as a negative trend. In this manner, they employ
analogical argument to suggest that protectionist measures invoked to shield
citizens from economic peril, instead lead to greater peril and more severe
economic distress. Mulroney relates that,
five decades ago the world was in the midst of the Great Depression.
Restrictive trade policies made things worse. Canada and the United
States were the first to respond to the strong protectionist pressures of
the time. They began the process of tearing down these obstacles to
growth. Canada and the United States concluded a bilateral trade
agreement in 1935. More countries joined them in 1938. And the
principles underlying the Canadian-American bilateral agreement
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formed the foundation of the post-war multilateral trading system
(73).
Pursuit of access to large markets (consistent with neo-conservative economic
theory in a globally unlimited world) is presented as the natural order, an order
compelled and measured solely by economics. Deviations from this course are
seen as atypical and unpatriotic and they ultimately end in misfortune, as seen
with the case of the Great Depression. Pat Carney ably summarizes this
position, stating that the agreement,
represents a new vision of Canada, a strong, vibrant economy with a
leading role to play internationally. What greater aspiration for those
of us who love this country and believe fully in its potential? What
greater demonstration of Canadian nationalism than supporting a free
trade agreement that will open up new economic opportunities and
help us to make the most of them (157).
While free trade supporters seek to move outward, beyond the nation’s borders,
they see opponents as “myopic and insecure” (157). Advocates challenge
opponents that in their insecurities they are guilty of seeing,
a small Canada, a Canada without the self-confidence or dynamism to
participate actively in the world economy. [Further they maintain
that] the real nationalists are those who believe that Canada must be
bold, not self-doubting, that Canadian industry and Canadian workers
can compete with the best in the world (157).
Advocates contend that turning outward to pursue alternatives and solidify
trading arrangements is the desired course to assure preservation of the nation,
display national patriotism, and establish Canada’s goal to be an unfettered,
competitive and viable trader in a global economy.
This stance, popularized and promoted in the press as a “leap of faith,”
reinforces the moral imperative of the historical vision, even as the orientation
metaphor grounds and signifies two conflicting views of the nation, its future
and its alternative responses.
Free Trade Opponents’ Use of Genetic Argument to Counter the Free
Trade Agreement
In contrast to free trade advocates, free trade opponents focus audience
attention back in time, to an idealized view of the origin of Canadian
sovereignty and the political structures needed to maintain sovereignty. To
direct Canadian attention back in time, they employ: (a) genetic argument to
contrast the development of Canada and the United States, as they seek to
establish legitimacy for rejection of the agreement; (b) analogical argument to
question American policy and motivations related to Canadian needs and
goals; and (c) up/down orientation metaphors to distinguish between economic
goals which marginalize the human and social services factor and established
sovereign goals which prioritize values beyond economics, such as a high
standard of living or a more equitable distribution of shared resources. Those
against the agreement present two different continuums, one which suggests
Canadian nation-building and resistance of continentalism and another which
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reflects the decline of the United States. Opponents discuss the likely results
should these two contradictory time lines collide. According to Warnock,
the history of Canada is the history of a constant struggle to maintain
an independent country. This has been a most difficult task, given the
hostile climate, size and distances, the east/west barriers, the diversity
of natural resources and regional differences. It has been made more
difficult by the fact that we share the North American continent with
the richest and most powerful country in the world. The economic
market naturally pulls to the south, rather than east/west. A common
language with the United States has made it extremely difficult for
English Canada to maintain a distinct national culture. In addition,
there have always been strong political and economic interests in the
United States which have insisted that it is the “manifest destiny” of
that country to rule the whole continent. Maintaining an independent
country under these circumstances has required a strong commitment
from Canadian governments and Canadian citizens (80).
Antagonists suggest in this passage that Canada has long struggled to survive
despite efforts to absorb it or pressure conformity. Apparently, the very
struggle to retain its essence best summarizes Canada’s nature or sense of
identity. With acceptance of American practices, however, Canada’s future
becomes uncertain. As the Canadian Union of Public Employees (CUPE)
reports,
since the 1980s, jobs and prosperity have been under attack. And, so
has compassion. Income disparities have widened. The funds
necessary to keep our municipalities safe and liveable have been
reduced. Governments have begun to give up their ability to influence
economic and social development in a headlong rush toward
deregulation and privatization. Militarization has increased. In all
those ways [Canada] has begun to suffer some of the same problems
afflicting our neighbour to the south (4).
And the name of this transmutable disease? Labour explains this process as the
“trend of Americanization, the abandonment of [Canadian] tradition [in order
to] follow a more American way” (CUPE, 4). Seemingly, “the workings of the
market economy and private enterprise have produced [Canada’s] weak and
unbalanced economy. [Accordingly to] adopt the trade deal would be to give
the Canadian economy a heavier dose of the virus that has already made her
sick” (Rose, 12). Opponents suggest the very economic imperative which
drives the United States and furthers its decline, threatens to engulf Canada as it
makes other national values and means of stability impossible. As the Right
Reverend Remi de Roo explains,
experience shows that closer economic ties have generated closer
political bonds between Canada and the U.S. Canadian complicity in
the war in Vietnam, the questioning of Canada’s neutrality
occasioned by the cruise missile tests, the militarization of the
economy through defense production sharing, and our ambivalent
attitude toward Central America all reflect this in one way or another.
As a result, serious questions must be raised about the further impact
of this accord on Canada’s capacity to act as a sovereign national state
with an independent foreign policy (34).
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Genetic argument is evidenced in discussion of the free trade deal and efforts to
claim that acceptance of the trade agreement heralds the beginning of the end of
Canada (at least the Canada currently or previously experienced by citizens).
This slippery slope use of historical premise may be witnessed in the following
passage taken from literature published by the Council of Canadians,
Canada is for sale: During the past two years 1,200 Canadian
companies have been taken over by non-Canadians who have already
captured some 44% of all non-financial industry profits made in
Canada. Now the financial sector is up for sale too. When Brian
Mulroney announced that “Canada was open for business” our
country already had by far the greatest degree of foreign ownership
and control of any developed nation in the world. Day after day, we
learn of the sale of our country. One day a major bank, the next a key
aircraft company. Then a major telecommunications equipment
company, another big bank, a hydro-electric company, another huge
forest product company, a pulp mill, advertising agencies, harbour
wharfs, a chain of twenty three food stores, a major verticallyintegrated oil company, more high tech firms . . . every day the list
goes on and on. Many of our most influential lobby groups and
industrial trade organizations are already dominated by nonCanadian corporations. Over two and a half million dollars an hour,
every single hour of every single day, leave Canada to pay for the
foreign indebtedness we already have. Yet the Mulroney government
intends to guarantee Americans that there will be no further
restrictions on the U.S. takeover of our country. Canadians can look
forward to being tenants in their own country (A12).
Mel Hurtig (1986) further claims that “through poor management over three
decades we have already surrendered much of our ability to set our own
economic, defense and foreign affairs policies. If we surrender much more . . .
then can’t we be certain that the end of Canada will soon be in sight?” (4).
Opponents maintain that through adoption of a narrow economic decisionmaking framework, Canadians reject those very values which make them
unique.
Free trade opponents also contend that American economic practices are tied to
degradation and an overall lowering of the standard of living. According to
James Laxer,
the fate of South Chicago, Cleveland, Buffalo and other industrial
cities in the United States is actually a symptom of the most important
economic development of our epoch—the passing of the United
States from the summit of global economic mastery. It is important for
[Canadians] to step back and contemplate its significance.
Throughout our entire history, Canadians have watched the growth of
the United States to ever greater power . . . Now for the first time,
Canadians are watching the decline of the United States vis-a-vis the
rest of the world economy (18).
For, America’s “inability to plan for the long term is the great disease of the
individual American firm and of American society as a whole” (45).
Importantly, anti-free trade advocates do not simply employ the temporal time
line to illustrate these practices occurring over time, they also use comparison
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to suggest that a link with the U.S. will lead to the dreaded, economic-driven
conditions that Canadians seek to avoid. For, as Laxer argues,
we have analyzed the weakness of the American economy and its
increasing inability to deal with the challenge of national capitalist
systems which combine individualism and competition with the
capacity for long-range strategic planning . . . It is clear, as we have
seen, that entering a free trade arrangement with the United States
means moving over to a more “market driven economy.” This means
an economy in which strategic long range planning is less, not more
possible. It means moving over to the American system at exactly the
moment in history when that system is revealing its fundamental
weakness. There could be no greater economic folly for Canada, no
greater misreading of the history of our time (137).
Throughout these passages, opponents point out the shortcomings of American
economic policies. As Rein (1972) discusses related to efforts at redefinition,
to clarify positions, one is often forced to argue counter to something else.
Therefore, anti-free trade advocates define Canadian reality in sharp contrast to
the limited economic vision associated with the United States. For, as Stronach
laments, “money has no heart, no soul, no conscience, and it knows no
boundaries. Business is driven by short term gains. As a country, though, we
must look down the road at long-term effect. Trading should be encouraged, but
it must relate to jobs. To do this effectively, we require a national industrial
strategy” (62).
Up-down orientation metaphors help to stabilize opponents’ genetic time line
and the framework it provides. For example, labour explains that
as the trade deal gradually forces [Canada] to adjust downwards to the
[American] level as many as one-third of our public sector jobs could
be wiped out. The Americanization would push down Canada’s
standards of servicing and drag Canadian social programs down to the
much lower American limits (The Mulroney Trade Deal: What it
means to you, 2-3).
According to labour, free trade would “drive wages down” (4), and Canadians
would be subjected, not just to the “69 cents-an-hour costs of Mexico, [but also
to the] lower wages of the southern states” (6). In fact, according to Cameron,
“national standards would be bargained down to the lowest level existing in
North America” (6). Even “the business exodus to Mexico [was seen as] the
latest move by corporations away from areas where wages and social programs
are relatively good to regions where wages are low and social security
minimal” (The Mulroney Trade Deal: What it means to you, 5). Through
suggestion of an American decline, opponents invoke an “up-down”
evaluation where the notion of “down” is connected to decay, shortsightedness
and dormancy and the notion of “up” is connected to progress and success. As
critics complain, “the U.S. economy is in deep trouble and could drag [Canada]
down with it” (7). Ironically, the U.S. is simultaneously depicted both above
Canada (in terms of political power) and below Canada (economically).
Antagonists further question whether Canada should tie herself closer to the
United States through the use of an analogical argument. These arguments
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suggest recurring similarities in past bilateral relationships and deals made with
the U.S. To counter advocates’ view that free trade will result in Canadian
expansion and actualization, opponents employ an analogical argument
showing that Americans cannot be trusted, that past efforts to negotiate with the
United States have consistently resulted in weak treaties and poor
accommodations. As Pierre Berton complains,
at the turn of the century [Canada] got the short end of the stick in
negotiations over the Alaska boundary. As a result [Canadians] have
been denied a saltwater port on the part of British Columbia that is
blocked by the Alaska panhandle. In 1947, a group of Hollywood
sharpies came up to Ottawa and convinced the Canadian government
to scrap its plans for a film quota. Ever since then almost every nickel
made at a Canadian box office has gone back to the United States . . .
And then in the 1950s, . . . Canada handed over Columbia river power
on a platter. British Columbia has been trying to get it back ever since.
In light of these past follies it’s hard to see how we could have come
out of current discussions without surrendering some of the
peculiar institutions and practices that help make us a distinct and
sovereign people (27-28).
Canadian government officials, furthermore, are shown to be weak willed and
dependent when it comes to negotiations with the United States. As Peter
Baskerville explains, the “history of free trade negotiations with the United
States suggests that Canada’s assets are too often given short shrift by Canadian
politicians desirous of harnessing (albeit infrequently) the American eagle”
(84).
Ultimately then, anti-free trade rhetors seek to create two linear time lines
related to Canada and the United States. They further suggest that Canadians
must reject American economic policies in order to preserve the “natural
order,” in maintenance of national sovereignty. Through up-down orientation
metaphors they reinforce Canada’s advance and the American decline. But, in
efforts to counter free trade support, they also employ analogical argument in
rejection of the U.S. and its policies.
Through elucidation of the rhetorical strategies of both advocates and
opponents, one witnesses how argument from history permits spokespersons to
establish a comprehensible framework within which the general public
(unfamiliar with the political, legal and economic nuances of free trade) may
interpret or comprehend an abstract and complicated issue like the North
American Free Trade Agreement. As George Grant affirms, “when we speak of
the present historical situation we are oriented to the future, in the sense that we
are trying to gather together the intricacies of the present so that we can
calculate what we must be resolute in doing to bring about the future we desire”
(10). In this sense, society “conceives time as that in which human
accomplishments would be unfolded; that is, in the language of their ideology,
as progress” (10). Historical premises may be important definitional tools used
to establish a framework of understanding for public policy argument about
intricate matters. Both free trade supporters and opponents employ linear time
lines to document a version of the “natural order.” These orientations are
established as either acceptance of an economic framework compelling access
138
to large markets and rigorous competition in a global trading environment, or a
political framework which mandates preservation of national sovereignty, as
established at Confederation, in order to pursue a high standard of living and a
humanitarian social service ideal. The first of these two views of progress
focuses attention on an idealized end-state, whereby Canada toughens her
capacity to trade. The second view of progress suggests that citizens must look
back to the nation’s beginning to continue or advance the struggle for political
autonomy/sovereignty which has distinguished the nation through time.
Each of these two views of progress reflects a different historical interpretation
of current conditions and present circumstances. And as speakers on each side
strive to interpret the present differently, they employ dissociations to
legitimize and clarify proposed time lines. Discussion now turns to three
important dissociations which help to establish value hierarchies for the
audience, dependent on the view of history advanced. These dissociations
provide criteria for acceptance or rejection of the coherent rhetorical vision of
progress implied within the messages.
Three Key Dissociations Relevant to the Use of Historical Premise in
the Canadian Free Trade Debate
Within the presentation of the time lines, each side is forced to legitimize their
version of history as a continuation of or deviation from the “natural order.”
This effort is enhanced through the use of three essential dissociations which
help to characterize differently the political and economic implications of the
free trade proposal and its implications for current circumstances, past actions
and future results. Perelman and Olbrechts-Tyteca (1965) document that
dissociations go beyond clarification, “expressing a vision of the world and
establishing hierarchies for which they endeavor to provide the criteria” (402).
Dissociations attempt to modify an entity, or the “structure” of an entity and its
elements (412). These redefinitions are accomplished when a “seemingly
unitary concept is divided by pairing it with two philosophically opposed
terms, one of which is a value generally thought to be preferred over the other”
(Zarefsky, 1986, 9). In this way, a speaker may distinguish between a “vision of
the world” aligned or representative of the natural order, and a “vision of the
world” outside the natural order. Many possible philosophical pairs exist which
lend themselves to use as possible “prototypes for dissociation” including:
“means vs. end; consequence vs. fact, or principle; act vs. person; accident vs.
essence; occasion vs. cause; relative vs. absolute; subjective vs. objective;
multiplicity vs. unity; normal vs. standard; individual vs. universal; particular
vs. general; theory vs. practice; language vs. thought; and finally, letter vs.
spirit” (Perelman & Olbrechts-Tyteca, 420).
Within the Canadian free trade debates, analysis suggests several dissociations
were relevant to rhetorical efforts to suggest or maintain a sense of natural
order. However, there appear to be three pivotal prototypes crucial to the
argumentative framing of the two historical time lines. These three
dissociations are: distinction between the individual/universal; the means/end;
and the occasion/cause.
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Efforts to Dissociate the Individual vs. the Universal
The free trade advocates establish that the Canadian case is neither distinct nor
unusual. Espousing conformity, these speakers suggest universal conditions
have prompted countries to establish tariff free markets crucial to economic
stability. According to Lipsey (November 1987),
the experience of other countries, as well as Canada’s own past
experience, in apparently similar situations, should be taken to be
relevant, unless reasoned argument persuades us otherwise. The onus
of proof lies with those who say the Agreement will unfold in a
dramatically different way than have similar pacts elsewhere in the
world or than has the past history of Canadian tariff reductions (7).
For, “Canada is not getting into some untried new idea . . . Canada is unusual in
not having access to a large market” (5). The ultimate question raised by the free
trade advocates asks, “why should Canada’s case be any different?” (5). “In
today’s globalizing world, it is difficult to stand still; instead, it is often a case of
adapt, or lose to tough international competition” (Lipsey & York, 1-2).
Advocates complain that “the agreement is hardly an untried experiment;
rather, from the world’s point of view, Canada is a late arrival to this game.
Among the industrial countries, Canada is unusual in that its industries do not
have access to large markets” (Lipsey, November 1987, 4). As Thibault
comments, “Canadian Manufacturers now simply have no choice but to
continue an intensive drive to be internationally competitive if they are to
survive . . . Delaying the adjustment only makes matters worse” (14). The drive
to free trade is one which is prompted by a universal need for access to large
markets, therefore, all countries must seek access to large markets.
In contrast, free trade critics do not accept this fatalistic approach to the access
argument. They document Canada’s unique orientation and political needs
required to maintain this unique identity. In essence,
Canada is a distinctive, unique country. Not California and New York.
It is Thunder Bay and Nelson and Truro and Corner Brook and
Lachine. It doesn’t want to be a melting pot. It wants to nurture and
celebrate its distinctiveness in the world of nations, and its pluralism
internally. Canada has developed its own distinctive institutions and
ways of doing things. Most Canadians, including supporters of free
trade, agree that Canadian government must intervene sometimes to
promote just, sustainable and participatory economic policies
(Wilson, 249).
This emphasis on uniqueness suggests that Canadian sovereignty and
autonomy are the most important issues at stake in the debate. As Hurtig (1987)
explains,
there will be no Canada within a generation if the Mulroney
government is allowed to proceed with its plans. The massive
abandonment of sovereignty, the increased integration, the inevitable
harmonization, the increased dependency and vulnerability, the
increased American ownership and control of our industry and
resources, and the certain severe economic consequences will
combine to put an end forever to the dream of Canada (122-123).
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Ultimately such a position opposes the “bandwagon” approach advocated by
free trade supporters.
Efforts to Dissociate the Means vs. the End
Proponents of the treaty suggest that access to trade insures the stability and
continued progress of Canada and distinctive Canadian culture. In effect, these
speakers see trade as a means to an end. As Reisman asserts,
the agreement will make us richer and more able to pursue the finer
things in life. It will lead to a more prosperous Canada, a Canada more
able to enjoy a strong safety net of social programs, vigorous regional
development programs and a vibrant Canadian culture (42).
In effect,
the object of the Agreement is to strengthen the Canadian economy by
further encouraging the growth through trade that has gone on over the
past forty years. The best way to strengthen Canada’s sovereign
capacity to further improve its social and cultural policies is to secure
and enhance Canadian prosperity” (Lipsey, November 1988, 10).
Ministry of Supply and Services Canada (1985) also claims that
the most important advantage to Canadians of a free trade agreement
with the United States would be its effect on productivity and, in
particular, on the competitiveness of [Canada’s] manufacturing
sector. Improved and more stable access would create opportunities
for Canadian business and increase the tendency toward
specialization and rationalization of Canadian production (325).
Accordingly, free trade advocates claim that the agreement provides a means to
an end, to accomplish other worthy social goals and values. As Lipsey and York
remark, “if the agreement turns Canadian policies outward, it will have done its
job, irrespective of the specific gains it undoubtedly achieves” (120).
Rather than a “means to an end,” opponents of the treaty suggest that the
agreement becomes an end in itself. From their perspective, social values,
social structure and humanist values are the means to a more “Canadian
society.” An economic framework, in contrast, remains incapable of ensuring
any goals outside itself. To accomplish economic goals preordained through
the agreement, all other values must be abandoned or compromised. As Laxer
explains,
in a conservative economic order, there is an ultimate distortion of
means and ends. In it, the vast majority of people are a means to the end
of economic progress with only full titans being fully human actors. In
a humanist economic order, the economy is a means and nothing more
than that, for the realization of human goals. Only in this framework
can values outside of economic productivity for its own sake have any
meaning. Today such values are of vital importance—the
preservation of the environment and the pursuit of peace being the two
most important examples (137).
For, “if Canada’s goal is to train its people to realize their potential in the work
force (and more broadly as human beings), a very high priority must be given to
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IJCS / RIÉC
the non-goods producing sector” (135). Rather than a means to an end,
opponents believe that the free trade agreement precludes future alternatives,
limiting or rendering impossible political decision-making.
Efforts to Dissociate the Agreement Based on Occasion vs. Cause
Free trade supporters recommend free trade as a panacea to Canada’s economic
problems. Hantho reflects this perspective in comments explaining that the
agreement,
represents substantial progress in the right direction, with a strong
commitment to continue working at remaining issues. It offers an
anchor of rationality we can hang on to in the turbulent, protectionist
waters. It also offers continued increases in our standard of living and
the removal of many historical regional tensions between Western
and Central Canada. Canada’s consumers would be clear
beneficiaries through lower prices and increased choice of goods (23).
Accordingly, the free trade agreement presents a tremendous occasion which
Canada may grasp to advance and progress as a nation.
In contrast, free trade opponents see the agreement as supplying a greater dose
of the problems thwarting the Canadian economy and creating dilemmas for
Canadian citizens. They suggest acceptance of the agreement may actually
extend Canada’s current economic difficulties and entrench weaknesses
already noted in the Canadian system. Hurtig complains,
Canada has had a 64 billion dollar deficit on the current account with
the U.S. during the past fifty years. Our two-way commercial
intercourse has been a great deal for the Americans! Canadians must
have a merchandise trade surplus with the U.S. to help finance the
massive hemorrhaging of interest payments, dividends, and nonarm’s length service charges that pour out of Canada (at the rate of
over 2 million dollars an hour) in an increasing volume ever year (4).
Opponents query, therefore, whether Canada’s tendency to engage in CanadaU.S. trade actually is the cause of the country’s underlying difficulties, rather
than the step which will help the nation overcome its economic problems. As
Laxer remarks, “nothing better illustrates the enormous impact of American
ideas on Canada than this fact, that much of Canadian business is willing to turn
its back on its own experience in favour of the more market-driven approach of
the United States” (123).
This study suggests that, in using history to argue issues involving
interpretation of present conditions, speakers will employ dissociations to
contextualize and strengthen the force of their arguments. In this particular
case, the advocates and opponents seek to dissociate or break the link between
the political and economic aspects of the agreement. The advocates stress the
economic question of access to markets as the pivotal driving force behind the
quest for progress. In contrast, the opponents view political sovereignty or the
power to adjust economic policies in line with values, principles and precedents
established at Confederation, as the driving force in the quest for progress.
Antagonists affirm that Canada has consistently rejected,
142
Fortress North America . . . [since] we are more than adequately
involved with the United States already. [Instead] what we need to
promote now is a self-reliant Canadian economy meeting the basic
needs of all our people, coupled with more diversified and
collaborative trade relations with the peoples of the Third World
countries. From a humanitarian and ethical perspective, we
Canadians owe this contribution to ourselves and to the world (Remi
De Roo, 34-36).
The three dissociations discussed previously, help to ground an historical
vision of progress. They also help to oppose competing time lines and value
hierarchies. As each side strives to explain how progress will occur,
dissociations become central to the integrity and coherency of the proposed
natural order. The dissociations help to make sense of current conditions, as
they imply necessary policy responses.
Conclusions
What then does this case study teach about the use of historical premise in
public policy argument? Obviously, caution must be exercised when
generalizing findings from a single case study. However, the Canadian free
trade debate demonstrates the tendency to create a sense of “natural order”
based on historical premises which reflect an interpretation of the past from
understanding of the present. Both free trade advocates and opponents used a
genetic form of historical premise based on a linear conception of time in order
to frame and make intelligible their free trade arguments. Free trade advocates,
however, argued for the agreement due to the importance of large market
access for the growth and prosperity of the nation. In their emphasis of market
access as the necessary determinant of an idealized end-state, they raise
economic needs above possible political implications. Free trade opponents, in
contrast, harkened back to the origins of the state, to remind Canadians of the
constant struggle to thwart the pull of continentalism in order to maintain a
distinctive identity. To opponents, progress was measured in political terms
which required sovereignty to maintain a high standard of living and the
preservation of values unique to the Canadian experience, (i.e. social service
programs such as nationalized health care). Both positions in the free trade
debate, therefore, employed genetic argument to focus attention, explain,
legitimize and/or contextualize particular policy options.
In 1991, Gronbeck claimed that “genetic arguments [would] have to be
attacked by showing events do not unfold so continuously as the disputant
would have us believe” (97). One might conclude, therefore, that in efforts to
question a proposed continuum, an opponent would be required to attack a
questionable time line, documenting narrative inconsistencies. Canadian Free
Trade messages, instead, employed two different time lines each leading to its
own prescribed end-state. This case study reveals that in public policy
argument, disputants may not only elect to counter another’s genetic argument
by pointing out weaknesses or inconsistencies in that argument’s incremental
development, they may also elect to present a competing holistic time line
suggesting a different path to progress. In such an effort, two rhetorical
resources may prove extremely important. First, the use of metaphor to help
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IJCS / RIÉC
ground the sense of natural order suggested through the presentation of history.
And second, the use of dissociations to clarify value positions and establish
criteria for the acceptance or rejection of the natural order implied through the
presentation of history. Three key dissociations assist with this process
including: (a) efforts to dissociate present alternatives related to the case,
interpreted as either the universal (everyone else is seeking access to large
markets) or the individual (alternative courses of action have and always will be
possible); (b) the unstated exigence in the case, interpreted as either a crisis
(cause) or opportunity (occasion); and (c) the best method/or pathway to
progress, interpreted as the means vs. the ends.
Both advocates and opponents employ analogical argument to bolster their
genetic arguments and document deviations from the “natural order” implied
by their respective continuums. Free trade advocates employ analogical
argument to suggest that protectionist measures result in worsened economic
conditions. Thus, they establish a relationship between protectionism and
economic decline as they express confidence in economic markets over
political intervention. Free trade opponents employ analogical argument to
question American economic policies and priorities. Such analogical argument
helps legitimize rejection of free trade to favour political autonomy over
economic measures of prosperity and achievement.
As Neustadt and May (1986) contend “‘what can we do now?’ brings forward
issues of feasibility . . . [Yet in] judging issues of feasibility, physical
limitations can render [a non-ideological view of] history irrelevant. So can
technological ones, at least for the near term” (237). Complicated and abstract
issues like free trade, when diagnosed from material conditions, may be made
more understandable when speakers employ historical premises rhetorically to
organize and make understandable policy implications, goals and values.
Genetic arguments permit them to contextualize policy options in the creation
of a coherent rhetorical vision. Analogical arguments help speakers to
admonish against risky actions. In this case study, analogical arguments point
to recurring errors which must not be repeated.
For rhetorical scholars or critics to comprehend the possible uses of historical
premise in construction of policy arguments or as a means of arguing counter to
policy arguments, more samples and types of argument based on history must
be investigated. However, this case, as it builds on Gronbeck’s work, reveals
that when a speaker is confronted with a genetic argument with which s/he
disagrees, s/he may: (a) use genetic argument to construct a competing vision of
a natural order which mandates an alternative policy option (possibly arguing
for return to a prescribed original-state rather than arguing for a prescribed endstate), (b) attack the continuousness of the narrative as presented, or (c) focus
attention toward environmental, cultural or political hazards (repeated
patterns, plots or regularities which must be avoided) through the use of
analogical argument. Debate over free trade suggests that analogical argument
may center on particularized matters of a more finite quality.
Pivotal to the Canadian free trade debate was the manner in which advocates
and opponents separated and prioritized economics and politics through their
use of historical premise. This division is also central to today’s globalization
144
debate. For, as Randall White explains, students of global governance have
begun to,
recognize [that] economic institutions are no more suited than
political institutions to manage everything in human life. Even more
crucially—and even when they are guided by Adam Smith’s invisible
hands—economic institutions do not create and sustain themselves.
[Indeed, as White states], for free markets to work efficiently (or
profitably), the “expectation that contractual obligations will be
performed must be made calculable” (106).
But, traditional conceptions of nation-states “which imply some (often
fictional) common ethnic descent among its members, is dying . . . [to be
replaced] by . . . the national state, which simply refers to the government of a
geographic space, somewhere in between the local community and the world at
large” (105). The political role of the national-state, seemingly, is still unclear
and it is being shaped and tested by new technological and cultural challenges.
The Canadian free trade debate effectively modeled the same concerns which
globalists and their detractors are disputing today: to which discipline,
principle or standard should citizens and governments commit: economics or
politics?
Certainly, more studies examining the use of history in public policy debate
need to be undertaken to further substantiate the findings of this particular case
study. Scholars also should seek to more clearly understand the limitations of
orientation metaphors as means for mapping/grounding a sense of “natural
order” in public policy disputes. In this particular case, the use of the inward/
outward orientation metaphor proved extremely beneficial. The metaphor
reinforced a sense of consistency and coherency within the expansion
argument. In contrast, the up/down orientation metaphor, which one might
assume possesses more rhetorical force and is more easily actualized and
assimilated, proved more problematic for free trade opponents. Inconsistencies
appeared, whereby the United States, viewed as the more powerful of the two
countries, was also seen to be in decline. The U.S. is depicted as simultaneously
above Canada and below Canada. One might expect that the up/down
orientation metaphor would be more resonant with an audience’s experience,
and in general, more recognizable. This very strength, however, might turn into
a weakness, since the use of the metaphor may be harder to control and overuse
may interfere with an argument’s coherency.
Future studies should probe further the ethics of public policy argument framed
by history. This case study appears to reveal two commonly recognized
argumentative fallacies within the free trade discussions. Both the “bandwagon
appeal,” and the “slippery slope” are evident within the advocates’ and
opponents’ messages. Further study may alert speakers and others to the
possible misuse of faulty appeals or at least provide an ethical guideline to
effective arguments based on history.
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Katarzyna Rukszto
National Encounters: Narrating Canada and the
Plurality of Difference
Abstract
The question of Canadian identity continues to dominate popular discussions
of the state of the nation. This paper looks at the “Flag Day incident” (i.e. the
infamous encounter between Prime Minister Jean Chrétien and a
demonstrator at a Flag Day ceremony) in order to discuss the
representational crisis around signs of Canadian identity in dominant
narratives of national belonging. The paper looks at the symbol of the maple
leaf flag and the Flag Day event to show the continuous encounters between
the dominant narrative of Canadian identity and counter-narratives
produced by marginalized groups.
Résumé
La question de l’identité canadienne continue de dominer les débats
populaires sur l’état du pays. Cet article se penche sur « l’incident du Jour du
drapeau » (soit l’affrontement désormais tristement célèbre entre le premier
ministre Jean Chrétien et un manifestant lors d’une cérémonie du Jour du
drapeau), dans le but d’étudier la crise de représentation qui entoure les
symboles de l’identité canadienne dans les narrations dominantes de
l’appartenance nationale. L’article se penche sur le symbole du drapeau
unifolié et l’incident du Jour du drapeau, pour illustrer l’opposition constante
du récit dominant de l’identité canadienne et des contre-récits produits par
des groupes marginalisés.
The project of “Canadian nation-building,” past and present, is predicated on
narratives of belonging which necessitate the construction of national subjects
through a binary of exclusion/inclusion. However, the question of Canadian
national identity is not settled, as shown by the competing public discourses
about who and what is Canadian. The discursive constitution of the subject and
object of national narratives, that is the national body, is continually thrown off
balance by forms of identification and representation that bring out “the
encrypted [within the universalist discourse of national unity] ghosts of race,
gender, sexuality and class.”1
The “Flag Day” initiative announced in February 1996 by Prime Minister Jean
Chrétien illustrates the importance of, and the representational crisis around,
signs of Canadian identity in the dominant Canadian narrative of belonging.
The declaration of February 15 as the National Flag of Canada Day raises
questions concerning the invention of tradition, the relationship between
popular representations and desires for coherent narratives of Canadian nation,
IJCS / RIÉC
and the relationship between narratives of Canadian identity and
multiculturalism. Chrétien’s Flag Day illuminates what Homi Bhabha calls
“the ambivalence of the nation as a narrative strategy—and an apparatus of
power.”2 On the one hand, the nation projected through the sign of the maple
leaf carries the authoritative weight of the discourse of patriotism, which (at
least in particular historical moments) is internally persuasive.3 On the other
hand, the desire for (and validity of) the dominant narrative of Canadian unity is
continually contested by marginalized groups producing counter-narratives of
the Canadian nation. This article’s discussion of Flag Day focuses on the
discursive and political struggle between narrative strategies.
Narrative and History
The study of narratives has expanded beyond the limits of literary texts to
include non-literary texts, everyday social relations and disciplinary forms of
knowledge. The notion of narrative texts, and more importantly the concept of
text itself, has developed to include non-linguistic and non-literary texts such as
comic strips or professional discourses.4 In literary studies, debate about the
narrative form has shifted from Propp’s5 rules of narrative structure to
questions concerning the relationship between narrative strategies and desire,
and between disciplinary knowledge and relations of power. The loose (and
admittedly oversimplified) narratological definition of the narrative, as a story
told out of a series of events6 has been widely appropriated in studies of nonliterary texts. In historical studies, the narrative form is a newly-discovered
method of giving meaning to what otherwise would be a dry listing of
chronological happenings.7
The performative aspect of the narrative, i.e., its constitutive effect, is most
politically significant in studies of non-literary narratives. The dominant
narrative of Canadian identity, even in its most superficial rendition as “unity
out of many differences,” acts as a reference point in various national debates,
whether the Meech Lake Accord or the recent Quebec Referendum. This paper
will show how, in the aftermath of the Quebec referendum, the dominant
narrative of Canadian belonging has organized the national unity focus of the
Liberal government, and how simultaneously others have laid claim to
alternative visions of Canadian identity.
Because historical and social narratives claim to present true stories with a
meaningful interpretation of their central events, what constitutes an “event”
has major political significance. An event, interpretable by all observers as
such, does not objectively happen. Rather, what counts as an event depends on
the temporal logic and priorities of the particular narrative.8 The structure of
intelligibility of the particular narrative decides the delimitation and length of
specific events. The official moment of declaring Flag Day as a national
holiday is a contested “event” in the narrative of Canadian identity. The
significance of Flag Day as an event can only be understood in relation to the
activities and outcomes (of social movements, of government agencies) that
preceded and followed it.
The argument here is based on the idea that the social narrative, such as the
narrative of Canadian identity and belonging, produces meaning by appealing
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Narrating Canada and the Plurality of Difference
to subjects through its representations. The narrative is both a participant in and
a product of historical social relations. It allows individuals to see themselves in
stories about “their” social/historical contexts.
In a narrative of Canadian identity, certain series of happenings are named as
important events in the story of Canadian identity while others are excluded or
re-articulated to fit the overall coherence of the story. As well, certain
relationships (between the French and the British, for example) are ordered as
events and not others. Thus the narrative works not by passively re-presenting
something that existed before, but by constituting or making new meaning. At
the same time, historical narratives or narratives endowed with political/
cultural legitimacy are largely accepted as representations of actual social
relations and past happenings.
Narrating Canada
Bhabha’s essay “DissemiNation: Time, Narrative and the Margins of the
Modern Nation” theoretically traverses the double movement of the
pedagogical and performative strategies of narrating the nation. For Bhabha,
“the political unity of the nation consists in a continual displacement of its
irredeemably plural modern space, bounded by different, even hostile nations,
into a signifying space that is archaic and mythical, paradoxically representing
the nation’s modern territoriality, in the patriotic, atavistic temporality of
Traditionalism.”9 But the plural actuality of the modern nation continuously
undermines the universalist identity of the national body that exists at the centre
of national narratives, including the dominant narrative of Canadian identity.
The dominant story of Canadian nation-building insists on the unity of a
Canadian national body, a principle that necessarily excludes or contains other
identities and identificatory practices. Other points of identification are
invalidated or contained as different ways of being Canadian. Be(com)ing
Canadian thematically structures the story and determines which aspects of a
Canadian historical trajectory will be included. Currently, the desire for a panCanadian identity is usually framed as a negative response to American cultural
domination, and echoes the rejection of British cultural domination by previous
nationalist voices. As noted by Greg Nielsen and John Jackson, the notion that
Canadian culture is in need of protection by the state from outside forces has
been informing public policy since before confederation.10 The numerous
policies and reports that the Canadian state has instituted since 1920s on
various issues affecting Canada’s culture industry have continued to express
the “vision of national and cultural unity.”11
Ironically though, the Outside or Other that Canadianness is often contrasted to
is inside it—regionalism, Quebec and Aboriginal nationalism or “the not yet
assimilated, not yet recognized, not yet ‘Canadian’, spectres of race.”12
This can be extended to show how the act of privileging national identity also
works to diminish the disrupting potential of gender, class and sexuality as
points of political and cultural identification. Feminist analyses of gender and
citizenship have pointed out the masculine construction of the citizen in
classical liberalism, the gendered implications for political participation in the
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IJCS / RIÉC
separation of public and private spheres, and the current reconceptualization of
citizenship along more rigidly patriarchal lines to accommodate the
international and local processes of restructuring.13 It could be argued that, in
recent years, the women’s movement has directed its activism at exposing how
women are excluded, marginalized or burdened by the restructuring of the
welfare state and the corresponding reconceptualization of citizenship through
an ethic of individualism and local [read women’s]14 responsibility for
community well-being. In similar ways, this paper will look at a moment of
activism that attempted to unveil the contradictions between the national unity
focus of the state and the negative effects of its policies on Canadian workers.
The dominant story of Canadian nation-building is predicated on the heroic
representation of British and French colonial arrival and settlement. The
conflict between the “two founding nations” motivates the story.15 The idea
that Canadian identity is based on the historic presence and influence of British
and French ancestry organizes, as will be discussed throughout this paper,
Canadian policies and discourses of multiculturalism. In particular, Canadian
nationalism has historically grown in response to long-standing Francophone
grievances, which under the Trudeau Liberal government were
institutionalized into a series of state strategies for the integration of Quebec
into “the nation.” Kenneth McRoberts lists the policy of official bilingualism,
the Charter of Rights and Freedoms and the policy of multiculturalism as
primary state strategies to challenge the notion of Quebec’s distinctiveness.16
These policies helped in the discursive construction of “the Canada” and the
idealized “Canadian” citizen. The dominant narrative of Canadian national
identity privileges the identity of an idealized Canadian citizen as its subject
and object. That is, “the Canadian” is the central character in this story which is
discursively constituted as a narrative strategy.
The narrative of Canadian nation-building as a story of immigration and
European cultural legacy is institutionally entrenched by Canadian official
multiculturalism. McFarlane argues that the discourse of Canadian identity
propagated by official multiculturalism constructs the ideal of Canadian
“multi-culture” based on the centring of Europeanness or whiteness as the
necessary homogenizing principle of Canadian inclusivity.17 He writes,
[...] within the multicultural paradigm, the “living principles” of
Black culture or Asian culture and their intersections are understood
primarily in relation to the ideal: Canadian “multi-culture.” This
Canadian ideal defends the myth of Eurocentric priority and
ultimately reduces race to the purely specular which has its meaning
controlled within an economy of signs devaluing race in favour of the
juridically defended (raceless/white) individual.18
Official multiculturalism denies the central role of colonial relations of ruling
and various practices of exclusion (like racist immigration policies) in the
process of the making of Canada.19 Instead, by funding multiculturalism
programs and ethnic minority communities, the state was able to
institutionalize and regulate the “other communities” toward activities
congruent with the national unity focus of the state.20
152
As mentioned above, the dominant narrative of Canadian national identity is a
story that begins with the arrival and settlement of the British and the French.
Those series of happenings that illuminate the conflictual relationship between
these two groups are generally delineated as events of this story. Thus the
events of the story are motivated by the unresolved political and cultural
conflict between the European settler groups. The presence and/or immigration
of other groups is narrated in relation to this “foundational” presence. All other
processes of movement, settlement, arrival, exodus and dispersal within
Canadian borders are narrated in relation to the temporal order of the colonial
settlement.
This foundation is a narrative strategy that de-historicizes the differential
conditions under which different groups of people come to be “Canadian,” and
it privileges a universalist point of national identity with a European essence.
The foundational narrative is written in the authoritative discourse of the law
and the state.
Mikhail Bakhtin reminds us that the authority of such a discourse “was already
acknowledged in the past.” He calls it “a prior discourse.”21 “Demand[ing] our
unconditional allegiance,” 22 it is propagated through such powerful
institutions as the state (The Multiculturalism Act) and canonical Canadian
historiography. The state organization of the Canadian culture
industry—CBC, Radio Canada, the Canada Council, to name just a few—was
fundamental to the development of an official discourse of Canadian national
identity.23 Through the culture industry, and state policies and programs,
national unity and pan-Canadianness became prioritized in public debates
about various social issues, and “Canadian identity” came to be imagined in
relation to the British-French division. Nielson and Jackson argue that the state
is fundamentally involved in the creation of “the Canada” in that “[t]he moment
the cultural lifeworld of the nation is defined, policy must absorb, exclude or
repress contradictory lifeworlds occupying the same space.”24
Authoritative discourse, especially when it performs as internally persuasive
discourse, enters social relations and affects ways of making sense of the world.
Flag Day can be seen as an institutional attempt at making the authority of the
dominant narrative of Canadian identity internally persuasive, that is “tightly
interwoven with ‘one’s own word’,”25 to great numbers of Canadians.
The importance of this particular narrative of Canadian identity lies in its
populist power and relevance to the interests of the state. As noted by many
observers of Canadian politics, the state, especially at the level of federal
government, has relied on the dominant narrative of Canadian identity as
“national unity through difference” to deal with such issues as immigrant
assimilation (through the Secretary of State programs), Quebec nationalism
(Bilingualism and Biculturalism Commission, Multiculturalism Act, Meech
Lake Accord), and regionalism (CBC). Not least of all, the public primacy
accorded to the issue of national unity (facilitated by the dominant narrative of
Canadian identity) deflects public attention from pressing social issues (an
accusation that was most recently made of the Liberal Party in the 1997 federal
election).
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In the wake of Quebec’s referendum on the question of separation from
Canada, Chrétien’s Flag Day functions as an institutional “attempt to ‘arrest the
flow of differences’ and ‘construct a center’”26 around which Canadian
identity can be made publicly intelligible. At the same time, the ways that the
Flag Day unfolded, and was retold in the national media, brings to the surface
the ever-present contesting voices of those who offer a critique of and an
alternative to the dominant narrative of the Canadian nation.
The Dis(Unity) of the Maple Leaf
On February 12, 1996, Prime Minister Jean Chrétien declared February 15 as
the National Flag of Canada Day. The declaration was part of a larger initiative
called Citizenship Week intended to promote Canadian identity. As reported
by The Toronto Star and The Globe and Mail, Flag Day was to provide an
occasion for Canadians to show their patriotism. Both of the newspapers’
reports on Chrétien’s announcement included his message that “our maple leaf
is a symbol that unites Canadians.”27 The Toronto Star quoted Chrétien as
stating that “associated with the values of freedom, peace, justice and tolerance,
Canada’s flag honors Canadians of all origins who have helped build one of the
best countries in the world.”28 On February 15, The Toronto Star ran two
articles on the significance of the maple leaf flag to Canadians, one reporting on
the prominence of the flag in a citizenship ceremony performed at a school, and
the other on the changing attitude of Canadians towards the flag.
All of these reports tie in with the dominant narrative of Canadian identity as
patriotism overcoming division, premised on the notion of “multi-culture.” At
the same time, all of them contain traces of the conflict-ridden past recalled by
the maple leaf, and the conflict-ridden present in which the maple leaf is
reasserted.
The traces of the past emerge in The Toronto Star February 13 report:
“Although the debate over the maple leaf flag deeply divided Canadians 31
years ago, Chrétien said the flag is now an undisputed source of pride.” The
Toronto Star February 15 report on the changing significance of the flag to
Canadians states that “it has taken awhile, but Canadians—and not just
children—seem to be getting sentimental about their flag.”29 It later added that
“the selection of a home-grown Canadian flag was a turbulent, troublesome
affair involving heated debate before it was established that Canada’s official
colors were red and white and that the maple leaf was our official symbol.”30
While the overall context of these reports is the seeming rise of national
identification in Canada, expressed through the public display of the maple leaf
flag, the focus clearly centres on the dominant narrative of a unitary Canadian
identity. The authority of this discourse, in Bakhtinian terms, seems to have
become internally persuasive for large numbers of Canadians who view
national unity (territorial and symbolic) with utmost concern, and asserting
one’s Canadianness the only moral way of self-representation.
Newspaper reports document the birth and growth of small, grassroots
organizations devoted to securing Canadian unity, with names such as Special
Committee for Canadian Unity, Dialogue Canada, and the Fixing Canada Eh?
154
Constituent Assembly. The federal government’s phone line for flag requests
has been receiving 2,000 calls a day.31 In the process of internalization, the
sense of fear and concern among many Canadians over the future of the
Canadian nation-state is transformed into a notion of national loyalty. The deep
insecurity that many Canadians feel about their futures in the context of not
only Quebec nationalism, but also continually eroding social services,
increasing privatization of the public sector, high unemployment and visible
poverty, gets publicly framed in the language of “concern about Canada.” All
other approaches are read as suspect and unpatriotic, including Quebec
separatism, Aboriginal self-determination and critiques of various forms of
inequality. The national address, for those who have taken up the authoritative
discourse of national identity, prevails (at least temporarily) over “various
available verbal and ideological points of view, approaches, directions and
values.”32
However, the maple leaf flag is a sign whose identity as a symbol of national
culture has and continues to be contested. The earlier newspaper quotations all
pose the reported current outpouring of feelings for the flag as a recent, albeit
welcome, phenomenon. The readers, presumed “Canadians,” learn that the flag
was hotly debated before it was embraced by “us.” The issues of the debate,
where the debate was taking place, and who constituted the “Canadians” that
entered the debate is left unsaid. Clearly, this adds to the special aura of the flag
and centres the readers’ attention on the significance of this story—the happy
ending with the flag becoming “the undisputed source of pride” for Canadians,
patriotism overcoming ethnic and regional divisions.
The writing about the maple leaf in these reports shows the double movement of
narratives invested with political legitimacy and power. That the social
construction of meaning happens in political struggle and that meaning is a
marker of social relations is well known. In the quest for a coherent, national
narrative, the political struggle over the maple leaf is narrativized, transformed
into a story of a unitary Canadian identity borne out of ethnic difference, and as
such performs as the authoritative discourse of the Canadian nation-state. In its
performance, however, the narrative exhibits the instability of its core
subject—the Canadian citizen—through narrative strategies of displacement
of difference and opposition.
The reports on Flag Day and the meaning of the flag are all contextualized by
references to the recent threat to Canadian unity posed by the Quebec
referendum and the separatist movement. However, the veiled references to the
past struggles over the maple leaf tacitly acknowledge the historical instability
of Canadian identity, and the continuation of the much earlier flag debate.
In his electoral bid for the seat of the Prime Minister in the 1963 election, Lester
Pearson promised that if elected his government would approve a new flag for
Canada in two years.33 The search for the new flag would put an end to the
disagreement over what is the national flag, and signify a break with the
imperialist heritage of Canada represented by the Union Jack and the Red
Ensign flags in favour of a distinctly national symbol. Pearson’s government
was not the first to initiate the search for a national flag,34 but its mission was
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IJCS / RIÉC
intensified by the threat of brewing Quebec nationalism. National unity
became the rallying cry for this round of the great Canadian flag debate.
As Prime Minister, Pearson established the need for a new flag in numerous
speeches:
What we also need is a patriotism that will put Canada ahead of its
parts. We are all or should be Canadians—and unhyphenated; with
pride in our nation and its citizenship, pride in the symbols of that
citizenship.35
In reference to Canadians of other than British ancestry, he said that the maple
leaf flag will “bring them closer to those of us who are of British stock and make
us all better, more united Canadians.”36 Finally, he sketched out the “new
Canadian” that the maple leaf was to signify:
[... ] the flag we are submitting...results not only from our growth but
from our diversity, the achievement of peoples with pasts in other
countries; but they are now concerned, as we are all concerned, with
one future only, and that is the future of Canada.37
Pearson’s zeal in producing a symbol that would represent all Canadians
reflected political and demographic changes in the country. The growth of
Quebec nationalism and the changing face of immigrants, the latter due largely
to the combination of changes in the Canadian immigration system and
unfavourable post-WWII economic conditions in many countries, had
enormous implications for notions of national identity and culture. The
dominance of the British in Canadian political, economic and cultural life was
being expressly challenged by the very presence of others in the national body.
By extending the dominant narrative of Canadian identity to accommodate and
contain new bodies within the category “the people,” Pearson’s response to the
potentially disruptive influence of this presence on the nation-state
foreshadowed a later institutional strategy of official multiculturalism.
As Bhabha argues, “the people are the historical ‘objects’ of a nationalist
pedagogy, giving the discourse an authority that is based on the pregiven or
constituted historical origin or event.”38 Thus, opponents of the new flag,
mostly Anglo-Canadians, were forced to orient their opposition in terms of the
authoritative discourse of Canadian nationalism. John G. Diefenbaker was a
vocal and unwavering leader of this opposition. His position on the issue was
heard as early as in a 1926 campaign speech: “I want to make Canada all
Canadian and all British. The men who wish to change our flag should be
denounced by every good Canadian.”39 The collapse of Britishness with
Canadianness was central to those opposing the maple leaf flag, who
particularly objected to the recognition of Francophones inherent in
eliminating the symbol of the Conquest in the Ensign.40 Claiming British
heritage as Canadian tradition, the opponents were challenged to oppose the
weight and moral regulation of the unifying patriotic discourse in their attempts
to avow the legitimacy of the British Red Ensign as a symbol for Canada. It was
a struggle between competing discourses of tradition and patriotism,
articulated as the war between a desire to preserve the past and the commitment
to forge a new future. Against the accusation that Pearson’s government “was
156
going to throw into the dust bin the flag that had been flying in Canada for 100
years”41 was the counter assertion of love of and loyalty to the nation.
The discourse of patriotism, exemplified in the above excerpts from Pearson’s
speech, effectively addresses the later institutionalized discourse of
multiculturalism, in which cultural difference is effaced by the ideal Canadian
identity, which nonetheless refers back to Anglo-eurocentric “spirit.”42 The
maple leaf, as a signifier of the ideal unitary Canadian identity symbolizes, and
is appropriated by, the dominant narrative of Canadian nation-building
predicated on the theme of cultural and regional division overcome by
patriotism. However, the conditions of the maple leaf’s birth, the political
struggle waged in its name, and the variable ways that individuals reference the
flag in expressing their identities, point to the instability of the dominant
narrative of the Canadian nation.
Flag Day and Other Voices
McFarlane’s analysis of the contradictory effect of the Multiculturalism Act
can equally apply to the dominant narrative of Canadian identity. He writes that
the Act assimilates all cultural difference into the homogenous, ideal Canadian
society, and simultaneously acknowledges the actual heterogeneity of the
Canadian body politic.43 The presence of difference and all it signifies is what
multiculturalism continually strives to contain. The principle of inclusivity in
the name of national unity, to which multiculturalism adheres, has been guiding
state policies, especially at the federal level, since the postwar period. As
mentioned before, the federal Liberal government under Trudeau was
especially instrumental in developing state strategies to negate Quebec’s claim
to cultural distinctiveness. Leslie Pal’s Interests of the State makes a
compelling argument that federal funding for Official Language Minority
Groups, multiculturalism and women’s programs was explicitly intended to
foster national unity and active citizenship. In other words, it was designed as a
mechanism to ward off a possible fragmentation of allegiance along cultural,
linguistic, regional, ethnic, gender and other lines. However, in a recent article
about the shifting conceptions of citizenship in Canada, Jane Jenson and Susan
Phillips argue that the larger effect of this particular state response to the threat
of Quebec nationalism and the divided loyalties of various groups of Canadians
has been to create a model of Canadian citizenship based on the ideals of social
justice, equity and active citizenship as fundamental characteristics of
Canadian identity.44
Ironically, in the name of national unity, the state has institutionalized diversity
in its recognition of advocates for minority and disadvantaged groups. What
transpired at the Flag Day ceremony is evidence of the disruptive potential of
citizen advocacy to the hegemony of the dominant narrative of Canadian
identity.
On February 15, 1996, Prime Minister Jean Chrétien and Deputy Prime
Minister Sheila Copps participated in the Flag Day ceremony opposite
Parliament Hill in Hull, Quebec. As reported by various newspapers, the
ceremony, as a climactic display of patriotism, “was intended to build up
Quebeckers’ attachment to Canadian symbols,”45, one of the federal
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government’s aims in its post-Quebec referendum national unity plan. The
following evening and next day, however, instead of reports of wellorchestrated flag-waving, the media busied itself analyzing the possible
political fall-out of the anti-climactic videotaped incident showing Chrétien
grabbing a protester by the neck. According to the reports, the Prime Minister
grabbed and threw William Clennett, who was among a group of demonstrators
protesting cuts to the unemployment insurance benefits.
The debate that ensued focused on “what actually happened” between Chrétien
and Clennett, extending to analyses of Chrétien’s personality and temperament
and so on. The fundamental class difference that underlined the actual
“incident” was elided in the media reports and editorials. For me, this
“incident” serves as a moment where one can see the instability of the dominant
narrative of Canadian identity as patriotic unity, as other forms of identification
get articulated and asserted in the public sphere.
Flag Day was intended for all Canadians to show their allegiance to and
affection for the nation, in other words to “put Canada first” on their list of
priorities. Strategically the federal government’s agenda for ensuring
territorial unity seems to include collective ideological unity, i.e., the
internalization of the primacy of Canadian national identity. The spectre of
Quebec separation has effectively eclipsed many other social issues from
public debate. In particular, federal Liberals have been able to deflect
increasing concern over unemployment with their continuing flurry of
activities for the cause of national unity.
When Chrétien asserted that the flag represents “Canadians of all origins who
have helped build one of the best countries in the world,”46, he echoed the 1995
United Nations report which praised Canadian living standards. He has also
invoked the familiar notion of Canadian citizenship as based on ideals of social
justice and equity. But he is also directly referencing the dominant narrative of
Canadian identity, the narrative of assimilation into the idealized Canadian
nation. His utterance bears a trace of the past, echoing Pearson’s desires for the
unhyphenated ideal Canadian.
However, the contested nature of the symbol of this narrative—the maple leaf
flag—was obvious at the onset of the announcement of Flag Day. The Bloc
Québécois’ Suzanne Tremblay succinctly pointed out the institutional nature
of this gesture when she said that “They’ve [Canadian government] had 31
years to decide on a national flag day but they’re doing it now.”47 For
Tremblay, the Flag Day is a gesture of Liberal political opportunism, a public
grandstanding to discredit the Quebec separatist movement.
Her comment, however partisan, points to the importance of asking whose/
which interests are served in asserting some symbols and negating others while
promoting particular narratives of belonging. The protesters who descended on
the Flag Day ceremony vocally interrupted the seamlessness of the national
address by calling attention to the class division of Canadian society and to the
Canadian state’s active role in perpetuating class inequality. Flag Day was
chosen as the day for this particular protest to question the primacy of national
158
unity as the issue for public debate at the expense of discussions about issues of
social justice and equality.48
In fact, the protest can be seen as calling on the government to live up to its own,
publicly lauded, narrative of Canada as a society fundamentally shaped by the
ideals of social justice. The protesters wanted to assert some influence, through
their physical presence, over the public sphere of national debate. From their
point of view, the dominant narrative of Canadian identity as patriotism
overcoming division works in the interests of capitalism by obscuring the
relations of power and inequality that organize Canadian society. The
protesters made the point that demonstrating for the flag will not materialize in
jobs for Canadians, one of the real causes underlying much of Canadians’
unhappiness and insecurities. They were pointing out the emptiness of the
rhetoric of national unity in the context of increasing reduction of state support
for social services and the reformulation of the relationship between state and
civil society.
Choosing Flag Day as the day on which to protest government cuts to
unemployment insurance benefits, discursively and politically challenged the
homogenous notion of Canadian identity, of territorial stability as the only
legitimate political concern for Canadians. The protesters’ actions called into
question the common-sense notion of Canada as being one of the best places to
live, pointing to the hypocrisy of the federal government as evident in its
decisions to cut programs designed to ensure basic levels of support for
disadvantaged citizens, namely, the unemployed.
Government officials, some media reports and many individuals linked the
protest to the separatist movement. What this response shows, regardless of its
accuracy, is the influence that the authoritative discourse of patriotism has on
modes of public debate. Given that at this historical moment Quebec separatists
are publicly denounced as the greatest enemies of Canada, all oppositional
voices, all grievances against the Canadian state could be framed as antiCanada by linking their struggles to the separatist movement. In this way,
specific critiques of the Canadian state and society articulated by anti-racist
activists, feminist organizations, artists’ groups, or the act of denouncing the
perpetuation of class inequality in the name of national unity, can be neutralized
and dismissed as anti-Canadian and disloyal.
At the same time, the energy and funds invested in perpetuating the dominant
narrative of Canadian unity, as evident in the Citizenship Week that the Flag
Day was a part of, can be seen as testimony to the increasing power of counternarratives. The Flag Day ceremonies, the Citizenship Week itself, was a
pretentious display of the ideal Canadian citizenship, with Flag Day intended as
the climax of that grassroots momentum of “concerned Canadians” rallying,
writing letters, buying flags, forming groups, all in the name of “saving
Canada.” The “Flag Day incident” deflated the intended grandeur of the event,
levelling it as yet another incident where the government display of fictional
unity was disrupted by the oppositional voice of protest, invoking dispersion
rather than unification and closure.
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IJCS / RIÉC
Not only Quebec separatism, but the First Nations movement for sovereignty,
anti-racist activism and the labour and feminist movements all offer counternarratives of the nation, “disturb[ing] those ideological manoeuvres through
which ‘imagined communities’ are given essentialist identities.”49 It is those
voices that the authoritative discourse of patriotism needs to suppress.
Fictional Tradition
Chrétien’s proclamation of February 15 as the National Flag of Canada Day is
an attempt at making and institutionalizing tradition. The anniversary of the
first waving of the maple leaf flag takes on meaning in the symbolic life of the
nation as the repetition of the moment of becoming, the re-announcement of
Canadian “adulthood”. Here is how the raising of the flag was narrativized in
Canadian newspapers on February 15, 1965:
history is also a moment when a bit of gaily coloured bunting is raised
above the Peace Tower on Parliament Hill. ...The maple leaf flag
constitutes, for a country such as Canada, much more than the outward
trappings of sovereignty. It constitutes a reconciliation within
Canada’s own breast.50
According to the above sentiment, not only has Canada become independent
but it also has become united. This moment then became an important “event”
in the narrative of Canadian identity.
The public resurrection of the anniversary in the form of an official holiday
brings to the fore questions concerning tradition, history and invention in
relation to national narratives. The new public ritual will become a Canadian
tradition, institutionally supported, symbolically referencing the historical
journey of Canadian identity crisis. As Flag Day reasserts the legitimacy of the
dominant narrative of Canadian identity, to some it becomes another symbolic
reminder of the institutional and discursive white Canadian forgetfulness of its
settler colonial past. It will also be a reminder of the abandonment of state
commitment to the ideals of social justice, and its replacement with empty
symbols of nationalist sentiment. Flag Day, paradoxically a manufactured day
of remembrance that was created out of the chaos of the present, points to the
fictionality of tradition. “Tradition” is produced through the particular
narrative ordering of temporally related actions, activities and relationships, an
ordering that makes certain relationships, certain events, certain kinds of
repetitions meaningful as “tradition.”
As Bhabha argues, “the political unity of the nation” necessitates the
displacement of the plurality within the nation into “the Sameness of time,
turning Territory into Tradition, turning the People into One.”51 In the struggle
for transformation of the Canadian social order and against counter-narratives
of the Canadian nation, against non-national forms of identification and
multiple differences, Flag Day becomes a tradition, just as February 15, 1965
became an event in the Canadian historical narrative.
160
Notes
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.
10.
11.
12.
13.
14.
15.
16.
17.
18.
19.
20.
21.
22.
23.
24.
25.
Scott McFarlane, “The Haunt of Race: Canada’s Multiculturalism Act, the Politics of
Incorporation and Writing Thru Race,” Fuse 18, no. 3 (spring 1995): p. 30.
Homi Bhabha, “DissemiNation: Time, Narrative and the Margins of the Modern Nation,” in
Nation and Narration, ed. Homi Bhabha, (London: Routledge, 1990), p. 292.
Mikhail M. Bakhtin, The Dialogic Imagination, (Austin: University of Texas, 1981), p. 342.
Mieke Bal, Narratology: Introduction to the Theory of Narrative, (Toronto: University of
Toronto, 1985), p. 4.
Vladimir Propp, Morphology of the Folktale, (Austin: University of Texas, 1968).
Bal, p. 6.
Hayden White, “The Question of Narrative in Contemporary Historical Theory,” in The
Content of Form: Narrative Discourse and Historical Representation, (Baltimore: John
Hopkins, 1987).
On the construction of events, see Louis Mink, “Narrative Form as a Cognitive Instrument,”
in The Writing of History: Literary Form and Historical Understanding, eds. Robert Canary
and Henry Kozicki (Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1978); Philip Abrams,
Historical Sociology, (New York: Cornell University Press, 1982).
Bhabha, p. 300.
Greg M. Nielsen and John D. Jackson, “Cultural Studies, a Sociological Poetics: Institutions
of the Canadian Imaginary,” The Canadian Review of Sociology and Anthropology 28, no. 2
(May 1991): p. 288.
Nielsen and Jackson, p. 288.
McFarlane, p. 24. Bhabha also makes this point in a general discussion of the nation.
Janine Brodie, “Shifting the Boundaries: Gender and the Politics of Restructuring,” in The
Strategic Silence: Gender and Economic Policy, ed. Isabella Bakker, (London: Zed Books,
1994); Nancy Fraser and Linda Gordon, “Reclaiming Social Citizenship: Beyond the
Ideology of Contract versus Charity,” in Critical Politics, ed. Paul James, (Australia: Arena
Publications, 1994).
Observers of restructuring of the health care system have been documenting its adverse
effects on women. As many services previously provided by health care institutions are
privatized, and patient care is reduced at various levels of the health care system, individual
women are burdened with increased responsibilities for the care of their family members
(Pat Armstrong et al., Take Care: Warning Signals for Canada’s Health System, (Toronto:
Garamond Press, 1994).
Two Solitudes by Hugh McLennan is a famous literary example.
Kenneth McRoberts, English Canada and Quebec: Avoiding the Issue, (York University:
Robarts Centre for Canadian Studies, 1991), pp. 14-16.
McFarlane, p. 22.
McFarlane, p. 22.
McFarlane notes the explicit exclusion of Yukon and Northwest Territories, and First
Nations and band councils from the Multiculturalism Act as necessary for the Act’s
Eurocentric framework of culture. This exclusion obscures Canada’s colonial history. To
that it can be added that the idea of the British and French as “founding peoples” obscures
Canada’s slave holding past and incorporates enslaved black people, as property of the
Britis h an d Fr e n c h , i n t o t h e c a t e g o r i e s “F r en ch ” an d “B r i t i sh . ” S u ch
invisibility—through—incorporation results in the (commonly held) view that “blackness”
is recent to Canada.
For an overview of work on the implications of state funding for multiculturalism, see Leslie
Pal, Interests of the State: The Politics of Language, Multiculturalism, and Feminism in
Canada, (Montreal: McGill- Queen’s University Press, 1993), especially chapter 2
“Collective Action and the State.”
Bakhtin, p. 342, original emphasis.
Bakhtin, p, 343.
For a thorough discussion of the impact of these and other cultural institutions on Canadian
nationalism, see Nielsen and Jackson (1991).
Nielsen and Jackson, p. 289.
Bakhtin, p. 345.
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IJCS / RIÉC
26.
27.
28.
29.
30.
31.
32.
33.
34.
35.
36.
37.
38.
39.
40.
41.
42.
43.
44.
45.
46.
47.
48.
49.
50.
51.
162
Dennis Mumby, “Introduction: Narrative and Social Control,” in Narrative and Social
Control: Critical Perspectives ed. Dennis Mumby (California: Sage Publications, 1993), p.
6.
“Block blasé over Canada’s love-in,” The Globe and Mail, February 13, 1996: p. A4; Shawn
McCarthy, “PM Hopes Flag Day Sets Hearts Aflutter”, The Toronto Star, February 13,
1996: p. A1.
McCarthy, p. A1.
Trish Crawford, “Getting All in a Flap on Flag Day,” The Toronto Star, February 15, 1996: p.
A1.
Crawford, p. A36.
Susan Delacourt, “The do-it-yourself nation builders,” The Globe and Mail, March 30,
1996: p. D2.
Bakhtin, p. 346.
John Matheson, Canada’s Flag: A Search for a Country, (Belleville: Mika Publishing
Company, 1986), p. 68.
For an historical overview of the previous flag contenders, see Alistair B. Fraser, “A
Canadian Flag for Canada,” Journal of Canadian Studies 25, no. 4 (Winter 1990-91).
Matheson, p. 73.
Matheson, p. 74.
Matheson, p. 85.
Bhabha, p. 297.
Fraser, p. 66.
I thank one of my anonymous reviewers for clarifying the symbolic meaning of this gesture.
The Ottawa Citizen, June 5, 1964; quoted in Matheson, p. 87.
McFarlane, p. 22.
McFarlane, p. 24.
Jane Jenson and Susan D. Phillips, “Regime Shift: New Citizenship Practices in Canada,”
International Journal of Canadian Studies 14 (Fall 1996).
Susan Delacourt, “Chrétien manhandles protester,” The Globe and Mail, February 16, 1996:
p. A1.
McCarthy, p. A1.
The Globe and Mail, February 13, 1996: p. A4.
Delacourt, February 16, 1996: p. A4.
Bhabha, p. 300.
Citizen, quoted in Matheson, p. 181.
Bhabha, p. 300.
Open Topic Articles
Articles hors-thèmes
Colleen Ross
The Art of Transformation in Lola Lemire
Tostevin’s Frog Moon
Abstract
Lola Lemire Tostevin’s Frog Moon, though unfortunately undervalued, is a
significant Canadian novel which deals with English-French translative
issues. This paper reveals how the author writes against a singular historical
discourse by celebrating in her own “translation” the diverse traditions,
places and voices that have contributed to her identity. Throughout the novel,
Tostevin fluctuates between two narrators, time frames and languages to
emphasize the narrator’s, Laura’s, split self. Laura finally manages to
incorporate the opposing dualities in her life into one transformable self,
realizing that she is capable (as a frog) of adapting to new environments and
circumstances.
Résumé
Le roman Frog Moon de Lola Lemire Tostevin, bien qu’injustement méconnu,
est un texte canadien important qui traite des questions de passage translatif
de l’anglais au français et vice-versa. Cet article montre comment, dans sa
«traduction», l’auteure s’inscrit en faux contre un discours historique
singulier en célébrant les diverses traditions, lieux et paroles qui ont
contribué à façonner son identité. Partout dans son roman, Tostevin fait
constamment la navette entre deux narrateurs, deux cadres temporels et deux
langues, pour souligner le double moi de Laura, la narratrice. Laura parvient
enfin à incorporer les deux dualités opposées de sa vie en un moi
transformable, se rendant compte de ce qu’elle est capable (comme
grenouille — « frog ») de s’adapter à des circonstances et des environnements
nouveaux.
Lola Lemire Tostevin’s Frog Moon is an amalgamation of stories that weaves
together a diversity of traditions, places and voices to create one woman’s
multi-textured history. The author argues that through the telling of these
stories, which “spin themselves into the spine of my history, each tale an
acoustic mirror reflecting the different facets of my background, my
geography” (151), she constructs herself. In her richly diverse narrative, the
persons who somehow contribute to her make-up interlock like the subjects in a
Picasso painting whose physical parts become scattered in order to be bound
together. By entitling such a work, “Art is never chaste,” Picasso insinuates that
works of art are composed of integral units which overlap and mesh with one
another rather than being pure or one-dimensional. This jumbled mass in which
individual bodies are indiscernible, becomes the vision of an infinite flesh.
IJCS / RIÉC
If we extend this metaphor, we can also see story as such a living entity in which
many voices speak. In her narrative, Tostevin rebels against the image of
“women whose voices are so soft it’s as if they feared to speak? / the cause of
their absence afraid maybe of breaking the hold / on the story” (Double
Standards). As the author pieces together her personalized—what Barbara
Godard terms “woman-handled”—story, she is conscious of working between
a pre-conceived idea of history, and her own (con)version of this histoire (both
“history” and “story” in French). She leads a double existence, not only as a
woman writing against a patriarchal discourse which favours one viewpoint,
but also as a Franco-Ontarian whose mother tongue is French and who has been
conditioned to write, speak and live in English. Throughout Frog Moon the
narrator, Laura, wrestles with this doubleness as she fluctuates between her
present life as an Anglophone mother and wife, and her past life as a young
Francophone girl in a convent, attempting to reach a unified self who will
encompass her vast array of experiences, languages and traditions. This self
comes to life through the telling of her story and ultimately becomes the writer
she has so desired to be.
Tostevin posits that we reproduce ourselves as we participate in a cyclical
process that causes us to return to our past and our roots, and supplant those
events as we return to new contexts in the present. So, like a frog, we are always
shifting, moving, changing context, shedding our skin, and thus
metamorphosing: the central theme of Ovid’s Metamorphoses, a meaningful
gift from Laura’s English instructor. Tostevin believes that while our internal
space, in which we store our experiences and knowledge, remains constant, our
external layer sloughs off as we adapt to different circumstances and
environments. There is therefore constancy in our transformation. She applies
the idea of progression and transformation to the human desire to maintain
continuity in our mutable lives. This concept of change (difference) through
continuity (repetition) is used by both writers who wish to deviate from the
structured form of a standard narrative and translators who can be creative
while remaining loyal to the basic meaning of the source text. Tostevin
maintains that such translation occurs constantly, for “we’re always translating
something that we have lived, either through another book, or through
experience, or through language...writing is an ongoing translation process”
(Sounding 274-5). George Steiner confirms that any act of reading is also an act
of translation, or in French, “interprétation,” because we traverse time and
space, seeking to understand works of other writers by converting them into our
own idiolect. “Interpretation,” writes Steiner, “gives language life beyond the
moment and place of immediate utterance or transcription” (Steiner 27) and is
in large part influenced by both the grammar and vocabulary of the interpreter’s
language and her culture.
Translative activity therefore allows for much creativity and diversity.
Translating his/tory into her own version of history, Tostevin writes in the
same discourse in which narratives have traditionally been recorded, but adds
her own touch. Barbara Godard professes that “feminist discourse works upon
the dominant discourse in a complex and ambiguous movement between
discourses. Women’s discourse is double, it is the echo of the self and the other,
a movement into alterity” (“Theorizing” 44). This doubleness is evident in the
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The Art of Transformation in Lola Lemire Tostevin’s
Frog Moon
novel whose narrator, Laura, oscillates between two selves, trying to unite her
body and mind by writing her seemingly split personality. It is through writing
that Laura assumes control of her life. She unlocks her desire for expression that
has been repressed for so long within the layers of the skin that protect her (froglike) body and assumes a presence in her work that women have not enjoyed in
conventional history.
Tostevin’s allusion to the story of “The Tower of Babel” in Genesis XI 1-9
epitomizes what happens when people focus too narrowly on creating an ideal,
or an imposing structure: an uncontested accepted version of history that allows
for little individual improvisation. The townspeople, forgetting to listen to each
other and work cooperatively to build the Tower, pay heed only to the faults
within the building and not to the well-being of the people helping in its
construction. To punish the workers for their lack of compassion, God
confounds their tongues, and they become so frustrated with their inability to
understand one another that they abandon the Tower and the community. The
flood of meaningless words that pours from the mouths of the townspeople
creates one indiscernible sound in which individual voices are all but lost. The
narrator writes a deviative version of Babel, her own interpretation of this
fateful story, as she re-establishes a harmonic accord in her passionately
verbose family and gives “Babel Noel” a “happy ending.” When the members
of her family insist on shouting over each other, “as if each person represented a
different clan speaking its own peculiar dialect” (63), they are merely speaking
their own “idiolect,” which Steiner defines as a means of expression in
language that is particular for each person. He states that “aspects of every
language-act are unique and individual...The concept of a normal or standard
idiom is statistically-based fiction” and notes especially that the “language of a
community, however uniform its social contour, is an inexhaustibly multiple
aggregate of speech-atoms, of finally irreducible personal meanings” (Steiner
46). In much the same way, the seeming confusion of voices of Laura’s family
is merely a dramatization of language’s natural make-up as a compilation of
individual idiolects. The languages and voices here speak simultaneously, but a
positive diversity rather than a negative confusion results from the lively
banter. In the words of Roland Barthes, “the Biblical myth is reversed, the
confusion of tongues is no longer a punishment, the subject gains access to bliss
by the cohabitation of languages working side by side” (cited in Moyes 79).
Laura, as subject of Frog Moon, also harmonizes the conflicting voices within
her own head as she realizes that although she has previously compromised her
ideal of becoming a writer, she can still pursue this ambition. Laura has always
tried to adhere to ideals imposed on her—to be outstanding scholar, and
nurturing and supportive mother and wife. By following the “rules,” she hopes
to fit into an acceptable “form.” The familial rituals (i.e. the Christmas
celebration) put Laura in touch with her roots, helping her forge a connection
between her younger self (told in the first person), re-born when she is in the
presence of her parents, and her older, more experienced self (narrated in the
third person), re-established when she is with her husband, son and daughter.
The cyclical pattern of going back to deal with her upbringing, and forward to
determine the person she has become allows the narrator to spiral ahead into the
future where she can explore her potential as a writer.
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IJCS / RIÉC
Laura’s childhood nickname, “Kaki” (“frog” in Cree), represents her doublefaceted self, living between two homelands (rural Northern Ontario and
suburban Toronto) and two languages (French and English), and trying to write
a comprehensive history of which she will ultimately be the subject. The
narrator has wrestled with her identity since her childhood; “named [Kaki] after
the croaking voice of the lowly frog” (40), the narrator is caught between a Cree
characterization and her French-Canadian name, “Laure.” While Laura tries to
use her vocal cords to establish some kind of presence for herself, her
(translated) name is deemed “improper” not only by her father but also the nuns,
who tell her that “frog” is another word for swearing, and incidentally also a
pejorative reference to the French. Ironically, she is robbed of speech— she
cannot talk around the frog in her throat.
Before the narrator is able to appreciate her vivid background, she must first
confront and quell the dualling factions within her. The narratorial split
between first and third-person that occurs through almost the entire novel
reflects the divorce between the Anglophone, middle-aged mother and wife
who is presently telling the story, and the Francophone, pre-pubescent girl who
is objectified in the narrative. During her life, Laura is constantly torn between
the French language of her parents, ancestors and her religious education, and
the English language of her spouse, children and profession. Laura is tied to
French because it binds her to her roots, her past, and she finds that speaking her
mother tongue puts her more in touch with her feelings: “as if some emotions
can only be expressed in the language closest to those emotions. As if fragments
of myself can only link to specific sounds...As if some emotions had to defy the
barriers of one language in search of closer bonds” (23-4). Her innermost
passions are connected to and most easily communicated in the language which
she first mouths. She frequently communicates her excitement or anger in
French, for French words come forth spontaneously without having to be
translated, as do English words. French is the speech which connects her to her
earliest memories as a child living in the comfort of her parents’ world. Even as
an adult she thus remains very attached to her mother’s (and father’s) tongue.
Laura admittedly reverts to her childhood self (“[m]iddle-aged and still my
mother’s child” [23]) when her Francophone mother, making her annual
Christmas visit, supersedes Laura as head of the household. Conversing in
French with her, Laura is shuttled backwards in time to her early years spent in a
familiar, inclusive domestic environment.
Unfortunately for Laura, the inclusion she senses among her French-speaking
parents and ancestors translates into the exclusion she feels as a young girl in a
Catholic convent. To be educated in French, she has to be sent away to an “école
séparée” literally isolated from the outside (English-speaking) world. The
French in which the girl is instructed does not induce the warmth she associates
with her mother tongue; rather, the cold, privileged discourses of particularly
Medicine and Religion alienates Laura. Women are encouraged to follow the
straight and narrow path of monologic, parochial discourse if they desire to
attain (as do the nuns) any nominal power within this order and thus these
monologues encourage the narrator’s own silence in the French-speaking
convent/ional environment. Her mother tongue is translated into a Father
tongue which is “mal (mâle) construit.”
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Frog Moon
Seeking to escape the rigidity of the convent the narrator pursues her interest
and adeptness in English, which figures as emancipatory by allowing the young
girl a channel through which she can assume some control over her own life.
English becomes a means of protection and privacy for the young girl who
suggests to her mother that they correspond in English for “[m]ost of the nuns
spoke it badly, and if nothing else the letters gave her the impression that she
could evade their scrutiny” (177). As the official inspector of all new English
books donated to or purchased for the convent library, Laura soon learns that
English is also a site for discovery of what is put under “interdiction.” She
occasionally fulfills her duty, reporting any material containing suggestive
words or seemingly inappropriate scenes, to appease the nuns, but more often
foregoes it in her passion to read as much English literature as possible; “[t]hus
the nuns believe that they have one of their own on their side, while the young
girl not only gets to read anything she wants, but gets to exercise a certain
amount of power over the other girls” (173). In achieving mastery of a language
as foreign to the sisters as the vernacular of religion is to herself, the narrator
refuses to be reduced to a silence the nuns would require.
Although the Soeurs permit the teaching of English, they esteem French and
Latin to be the more essential verbal tools within the convent, and thus have
difficulty understanding Laura’s fascination with the English language and her
urge to learn new words by copying out their definitions from her treasured
dictionary. Her fascination with etymology—seeking the original meanings of
words which have been lost or distorted over time—parallels her search for her
own origins which are somewhere between her French upbringing and English
adulthood. English becomes a site of permission and possibility because it lies
beyond the jurisdiction of the nuns, beyond their capacity to supervise. Laura
“rebels” against the nuns’ French by searching words in another language,
reverting to what Soeur calls a “pervasive pastime” in the same way that Le
Noir, the tailor (in Double Standards) rebels against his profession of clothing
people by posing nude in his store window; both are “perverts” in deviating
from the trodden pathway to follow their preferred course.
Laura, the narrator, and Tostevin, the author, choose English as the language in
which they will live and work, knowing its strong assimilative powers, its
tendency, like a frog’s, to swallow other discourses and cultures down the
narrow passage of its slippery throat to lump them into one glutinous mass. In
Frog Moon, Tostevin quotes Robert Kroetsch, who exhorts that,
[t]he danger in our time is not the Tower of Babel, but making
everything into one. Making historical, cultural or linguistic diversity
into one...It is frightening to consider the power of the English
language to eliminate the natural multiplicity of language, for
example (137).
The protagonist realizes the utility of retaining a common national and
international language in English, but she likewise promotes a tolerance for a
bilingual nation whose inhabitants are not forced to espouse either French or
English. The two official languages and cultures in Canada are and always have
been separated by differences in power. Rather than according one discourse
significance over the other, however, Tostevin (via the narrator in Frog Moon)
169
IJCS / RIÉC
appreciates how both work together to construct her identity. The FrancoOntarian narrator, like Tostevin herself, finds herself fully in neither language
but rather in an undefined area between the two. In her article on Lola Lemire
Tostevin’s bilingual writing practice, Lianne Moyes says that it is difficult to
“classify” Tostevin as a writer: “In a country where one is either English or
French, the tendency to group her with one category or the other (often with
women writers of Quebec) risks erasing the difference of Tostevin’s position as
‘franco-ontarienne’” (Moyes 75). Tostevin seeks to re-establish this place of
difference between the two sides by incorporating elements of both her Angloand Francophone culture and vernacular into her history.
Rather than being silenced between two languages, Tostevin uses translation as
a passage of speech to move from one into another, asserting that,
Babel should have taught us that no one language can impose itself on
the world, yet most of us continue to experience the passage from one
language to another as essential loss. To a certain extent it is a loss but
it should also be experienced as gain (“Contamination” 14).
Translation allows transit between places and adaptation to new contexts and
environments. In changing her colours (“of Her Speech”), the narrator rectifies
her double identity, her amphibian existence as a Francophone girl and
Anglophone woman by encompassing one within the other. She mutates into
the frog after which she is nicknamed: the “one creature able to live a double
life, able to live anywhere and make it feel like home” (156). In In the Second
Person, Greek-Canadian Smaro Kamboureli relates how she also encompasses
her two selves and two languages into one body: “I grew a second skin, wrapped
around my self another self” (cited in Godard, “Discourses” 179). To use
Tostevin’s metaphor of a Russian doll set to describe this multi-layering, a
woman becomes a doll in a set of nested dolls, each living within a version of
herself. Each one breaks out of her silence, and all of their voices blend together
to speak as an intrinsic entity: silence is re-versed.
Laura finally sees her self which allows her to remain loyal to her mother tongue
while living within an adopted language. The narrator’s determination to
maintain her French roots when writing an account of her life is reflected in the
sole chapter with a French title, “Le Baiser de Juan-les-Pins,” whose meaning
has no English equivalent. “Baiser” is both a tender word for kiss; slang for
“getting shafted,” and a rather base term for copulation. Tostevin stresses
language’s multiplicity, its refusal to adhere to a strict or “pure” translation.
The chapter begins—“il pleut”—transcribed in the language that she associates
with her own origins, but ends with the phrase—“Le Baiser de Juan-les-Pins. It
was raining...”—written in both of her tongues. This space that Laura finds in
between represents the middle ground in a translative system in which there is
“an operation of interpretative decipherment, an encoding- decoding function
or synapse” (Steiner 47). A shared language, a “mi-dire” or “a kind of midspeak
that speaks the part / the art of the half spoken that opens wide the middle
ground” (‘sophie 57).
As Laura aligns the language of her family and education with that of her
spouse, children and profession she also blends together her past and her
present life. Throughout the novel, the protagonist relates anecdotes employing
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Frog Moon
the past tense about her years spent in the convent and with her family, while
converting to the present tense to recount the holiday festivities with her
children, husband and parents. Stratford’s model of the double-helical DNA
structure reflects Laura’s vision of her own self: as the two halves spiral
between time frames, they entwine to form the one molecule which replicates
within her own body and determines her characteristics. Rather than forgetting
the past as events and people that have come and gone, irrelevant to those of the
here and now, she appreciates what she has learned in her younger years and
realizes this knowledge:
she’s cramming for a science test in spite of the nun’s warnings that
cramming will only make her forget everything right after the test. But
she didn’t forget because as I look across the bay I remember how the
movement of heat converts into new forms of energy as it travels from
one place to the next (215, my emphasis).
Moving from one place to another during her lifetime—Northern Ontario to
Toronto to Paris-Laura transforms herself into “new forms of energy,” fitting
into new environments and circumstances. The adaptations serve as yet further
signs of translation. Born a Gemini in June, the month of the “Moon of the
Frogs,” Laura assumes traits of the lunar sign under which she is created. The
moon determines women’s bodily rhythms as surely as it does the rise and fall
of the tides, allowing them to drift in the space between sea and land, amphibian
on the currents of their own meaning; Laura too shifts and alters her own shape
to accommodate the changes in her mutable environment. Imitating the frog
after which she is named, she sloughs off her external epidermis but remains the
same inside her covering, asserting that the “frog yearns to change its skin, pull
it over its head like a dress, place it in its mouth, chew it, ingest it, so the fiction
of the body is never lost” (215). We store inside us sense and knowledge and all
that is to come will only be a repeat of the knowledge so that “[t]he future only
holds more of the same. As such it has already been invented” (109).
Once Laura discerns that she indeed does have the prerogative to determine her
own destiny to pursue her one great ambition—writing—she is able to proceed
into the future. The narrator thus obtains the power over her life that the knight,
in a tale she recollects from her childhood, “The Old Woman and the Knight,”
discovers all women wish. He responds correctly to the question, “what do
women most desire?” only with the help of an old hag, who forces him to marry
her. Upon actually relinquishing all power to his wife, the knight sees her
transformed into a beautiful woman. The story is reminiscent of Chaucer’s
“The Wife of Bath’s Tale” where the knight’s correct response to the question,
“what do women most desire” is, similarly, “sovereignty.” He allows the
woman the freedom to become what she is capable of becoming.
She does not expel from her the Francophone girl of Northern Ontario but rather
stor(i)es her inside as an intrinsic part of herself subjectifying her into the “I”
instead of leaving her in the third-person objectified “she.” Despite reversion to
“I” at the novel’s end, this “I” is not static, for it would then indicate that Laura is
not subject to mutation. As Tostevin reveals to interviewer Janice Williamson,
the “subjectivity can never be one subject or static because immediately we
become defined into that one subject. The “I” in my book is an ongoing “I,” and
171
IJCS / RIÉC
ever-changing “I”; the ‘subject-in-process,’ to use Kristeva’s term” (Sounding
274).
Laura’s ability to subject herself in her own novel provides a model for women
to write their own lives and experiences into histories. Tostevin addresses the
necessity of providing more than one version of history which, in dismissing
women from its yellowed pages, has denied them a voice. Writing becomes not
only a means of communicating women’s versions of the past, but also a way
for male and female accounts of an event or situation to communicate with each
other. Frog Moon exemplifies such a gender interchange when Laura’s English
teacher, Madame Wickersham, writes a response to a fellow male teacher who
blames the current political and economic distress on female instructors.
Wickersham retaliates, providing some facts on the actuality of the situation:
women are treated as inferior in the educational system, as they often are in a
patriarchal economy. In providing Laura with a copy of her letter of refutation,
Madame urges her to speak up for herself and to not permit anyone to speak for
her.
Asserting that writing, art and music are media for self-expression and
transformation, Madame echoes the theory of another teacher, Barbara
Godard: these media as translative activities foster creativity and originality.
Women’s history too is not merely a re-writing of traditional discourse but a
unique, transformative work in which, according to Madame, “there exist
possibilities far beyond the obvious” (174). To return again to the Picasso
metaphor, it is the composition—the lines, colours and surfaces—that give
form to the body of art, instilling it with richness and uniqueness, and it is thus
that Tostevin’s story is born.
Works Cited
Godard, Barbara. “The Discourse of the Other: Canadian Literature and the Question of
Ethnicity.” The Massachusetts Review. 21.1-2 (1990): 153-84.
———. “Theorizing Feminist Discourse/Translation.” Tessera 6 (Spring 1989): 42-53.
Moyes, Lianne. “‘to bite the bit between the teeth’: Lola Lemire Tostevin’s Bilingual Writing
Practice.” Textual Studies in Canada, eds. Robert K. Martin and Gabrielle Collu (1994): 7583.
Sounding Differences: Conversations with Seventeen Canadian Women Writers, ed. Janice
Williamson. Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1993.
Steiner, George. After Babel: Aspects of Language and Translation. London: Oxford University
Press, 1975.
Tostevin, Lola Lemire. “Contamination: A Relation of Differences.” Tessera 6 (Spring 1989): 1314.
———. Double Standards. Edmonton: Longspoon Press, 1985.
———. Frog Moon. Dunvegan, Ontario: Cormorant Books, 1994.
172
Antonia Maioni
The Canadian Welfare State at Century’s End
Abstract
At the eve of the next century, the relationship between state and society in
Canada, much like the vast majority of industrialized states, is undergoing a
profound transformation, one that calls into question the role of the state in
guaranteeing social rights. This article raises two questions related to the
transformation of the welfare state in Canada. First, how does current social
reform reflect changing ideological tenets in Canadian politics and in the
definition of the modern welfare state? Second, how does the reform process
reflect changes in the Canadian political process and in the rules of the game
of social policy-making? It is argued that social reform involves both a
reassessment of the relationship between state and society in Canada and a
recasting of the power struggle between stake-holders in the social policymaking process. Both of these phenomena point toward the profound impact
of fin de siècle political developments on the future of the welfare state in the
21st century.
Résumé
À l’orée d’un nouveau siècle, au Canada, comme dans l’immense majorité
des pays industrialisés, les relations entre l’État et la société subissent une
transformation profonde qui remet en cause le rôle de l’État à titre de garant
de l’État-providence au Canada. Le présent article soulève deux questions
qui ont trait à la transformation de l’État-providence au Canada.
Premièrement, comment les réformes sociales en cours reflètent-elles
l’évolution des convictions idéologiques qui animent la politique canadienne
et sous-tendent la définition de l’État-providence moderne? Deuxièmement,
comment le processus de réformes témoigne-t-il de changements survenus à
l’intérieur du processus politique et dans les règles du jeu de l’élaboration
des politiques sociales? On soutient que les réformes sociales nécessitent à la
fois une réévaluation des relations entre la société et l’État canadiens et une
refonte des luttes de pouvoir entre les détenteurs d’enjeu du processus
d’élaboration des politiques sociales. Ces deux phénomènes sont révélateurs
de l’incidence profonde sur l’avenir de l’État-providence au 21e siècle des
événements politiques qui marquent la fin du siècle.
The Century of the Canadian Welfare State?
When Wilfrid Laurier proclaimed that “the twentieth century shall be the
century of Canada”1 he might have been thrilled to the idea that Canada, at the
eve of the 21st century, would be proclaimed to “best” place to live by the
international community. What he could not have imagined, however, was that
a fundamental reason for Canada’s human development performance, as
measured by the United Nations, would involve the relationship between the
IJCS / RIÉC
modern state and its citizens through social programs. Nor would a leader like
Laurier have thought that, at century’s end, one of the features of Canadian
distinctiveness in North America, and one of the enduring symbols of its
struggle for social and political harmony, would be the welfare state.
On the eve of the next millennium, the relationship between state and society in
Canada, much as in the vast majority of industrialized states, is undergoing
another profound transformation that calls into question the role of the state in
guaranteeing social rights. Two questions related to the transformation of the
welfare state in Canada are raised in this article. First, how does current social
reform reflect changing ideological tenets in Canadian politics and in the
definition of the modern welfare state? Second, how does the reform process
reflect changes in the Canadian political process and in the rules of the social
policy-making game? It is argued that social reform involves both a
reassessment of the relationship between state and society in Canada and a
recasting of the power struggle between stakeholders in the social policymaking process. Both of these phenomena point to the profound impact of fin de
siècle political developments on the future of the welfare state in the 21st
century.
The first section of this article situates Canada within the context of
industrialized countries and attempts to describe the tenets of the modern
welfare state in Canada. The second and third sections examine the expansion
and retrenchment phases of the welfare state, paying special attention to the
way in which the three tenets that shaped the growth of Canadian social
programs in the post-war era have given way to competing visions of the role of
the state in the period since 1975. Fourth, this article attempts to connect these
shifts in the scope and extent of the welfare state in Canada to changes in the
process of social policy-making, focusing on the nature of the so-called “social
union” and Canadian federalism, and to the involvement of new actors in the
debate over social programs in Canada. The conclusion includes some thoughts
on where the Canadian welfare state is heading in the 21st century.
Part 1: The Basic Tenets of Canada’s Welfare State
In comparative perspective, Canada is often classified as a “liberal” welfare
state, characterized by “minimum” levels of expenditure and coverage
(Esping-Andersen 1990). Such “liberal” states, based on the limited role of
governments and the importance of individual freedom in society, are seen to
reinforce differences in wealth and status (rather than redistribute wealth) and
rely on guaranteeing only minimum levels of security (rather than being
universal and comprehensive).
Canada, however, cannot be considered a “pure type” of liberal welfare state
(Thérien and Noël 1994, 547). While the scope and design of social programs in
Canada may seem limited in comparison to most European countries, the
Canadian welfare state developed in a more comprehensive fashion than that of
its closest neighbour, the United States (Kudrle and Marmor 1981). These
differences are evident in Table 1, which shows the evolution over time of
social spending as a percentage of GDP across industrialized countries. The
total amount of all government spending on social programs in Canada
174
Table 1
Social Expenditures in OECD Countries as percentage of Gross Domestic
Product
This table shows total social expenditures as a percentage of GDP in
Canada compared to other industrialized countries. Included in the
calculation are public expenditures on providing health, education,
employment, housing and other services, as well as direct payments in
the form of social assistance, disability benefits, unemployment
compensation, family allowances and old-age pensions.
1960
1980
1990
8
10
12
Australia
10
11
13
United States
10
14
16
Canada
11
14
19
New Zealand
13
15
19
Germany
17
25
23
Austria
17
23
24
United Kingdom
12
21
24
Italy
14
20
25
Finland
15
21
27
France
14
24
27
Denmark
10
26
28
Netherlands
13
27
29
Norway
11
21
29
Sweden
16
32
33
Japan
Source: Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development. 1994. New Orientations for
Social Policy. Social Policy Studies No. 12. Paris: OECD.
(provinces and federal government combined) is estimated to be almost onefifth of the country’s total gross domestic product. If we compare Canada’s
social expenditures with those of other countries, Canada ranks consistently
above the United States and Japan, but below most western European countries.
Also important to point out is that, despite globalization and an ever-more
integrated economic relationship, Canadian social programs still diverge
considerably from those of the United States (Banting 1997). Even a cursory
look at social programs in Canada (Table 2) points to generous support across a
wide range of clienteles. The Canadian welfare state includes both direct
transfers to Canadians through cash benefits, as well as indirect benefits
through certain types of services. Direct transfers would include old-age
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IJCS / RIÉC
Table 2
Types of Social Programs in Canada
The social programs of the welfare state include both direct transfers
and services funded by government. As Canada is a federal polity,
responsibility for the administration and funding of these programs is
shared between levels of government.
Direct transfers
administration funding
Old Age Security
Guaranteed Income Supplement
Veterans’ Pensions
Canada/Quebec Pension Plan
Unemployment Insurance
Child Tax Benefit
Social Assistance
federal
federal
federal
federal/Quebec
federal
federal
provincial
federal
federal
federal
contributory
contributory
federal
federal/provincial
provincial
provincial
provincial
provincial
federal/provincial
federal/provincial
provincial
federal/provincial
federal/provincial
federal/provincial
federal/provincial
federal/provincial
Services funded by government
Public education
Post-secondary education
Health care
Social services
Housing programs
Job training and manpower
security payments, unemployment insurance, child tax credits and social
assistance. Indirect transfers are services offered to Canadians such as health
care, nursing home care, public education and subsidized housing. Also
important is the fact that both the federal government and the provinces are
involved in ensuring social protection: some transfers and benefits are
administered by the federal government, others by the provinces, and many are
financed jointly by both levels of government.
The reason for Canada’s unique development as a “liberal” welfare state is
related to both institutional and ideological reasons. Institutional or state
capacity in Canada developed over time, leading to incremental, “steady”
change that stands in sharp contrast to the “big bang” legacy of American
welfare state development (Leman 1980, 27). The presence of a parliamentary
democracy ensured that social reform would be implemented in a more
coherent fashion than, for example, in the more fragmented American polity. In
addition, the extensive responsibility of the provinces in the area of social
policy meant that, although certain reforms were delayed due to jurisdictional
uncertainty, the innovations in the provinces and the compromises reached by
federal- provincial negotiation led to the development of more comprehensive
social programs characterized by relatively less regional variation than in the
United States.
176
Also important is the fact that not one, but three, ideological tenets shaped the
consensus surrounding the development of the welfare state in Canada. Unlike
the United States where liberalism “triumphed” as a dominant ideology (Hartz
1955), the Canadian political spectrum has been more eclectic and far-ranging.
Although it is debatable whether this is due to the development of an
“imperfect” liberalism (McRae 1964), or due to the experience of a counterrevolutionary Loyalist migration (Lipset 1970) and the rise of socialism as a
counterpart to the relative strength of toryism (Horowitz 1966), what is evident
is that a greater variety of ideas and social forces have found expression through
the Canadian political process.
These tenets are transmitted through the party system, and expressed in various
forms through the political parties that dominated Canadian politics at both the
federal and provincial levels of government. The first is a belief in the role of the
state as protector of its citizens through the guarantee of social rights. This
derives from the premise that the rights of citizenship have come to include not
only civil and political rights, but “social rights” as well (Marshall 1950). The
notion of the state as protector of its citizens implies that government has a
crucial role to play in safeguarding a social minimum against the contingencies
associated with the insecurities of industrial life. A second ideological tenet is
an emphasis on the collective responsibility of Canadians to ensure the wellbeing of the less fortunate in society, an ideal associated with the “noblesse
oblige” in a traditional tory world view. This legacy has legitimized the
necessity of elite direction or state intervention in order to foster the bonds of
community in Canadian society. The Canadian welfare state has also
demonstrated a commitment, at least to some extent, to the universality of
social programs that promote the equality of condition among Canadians
regardless of wealth, status or region of residence. Such a commitment to
universality and equality in the provision of social benefits, born of the
influence of the left in political discourse, distinguishes Canada from the
dominance of “pure” liberalism in the United States and set the Canadian
welfare state on a different course.2
The following two sections explore these ideological tenets and the
institutional features that led to the development of a Canadian welfare state.
Two time periods are examined in detail: the expansion of the welfare state in
the post-war era; and the retrenchment in social effort since the 1970s.
Part 2: The Expansion of the Welfare State in Canada
The Limited State and Social Welfare
Prior to this century, the welfare state was practically unknown in Canada.
Social welfare was generally considered to be of private and local nature rather
than a public and national concern. Families were expected to see to the health
of their members, the well-being of their children and the care of the elderly or
infirm. When needed, church, community or extended family networks could
also be called upon. In the British North America Act of 1867 (now the
Constitution Act, 1867), no mention is made of unemployment insurance, oldage pensions or income security. Under Section 92, the provinces were given
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IJCS / RIÉC
the responsibility for legislation relating to education, and hospitals and
charitable institutions, while the federal government’s obligation (under
Section 91) was limited to ensuring quarantine and marine hospitals, as well as
the social welfare of “Indians,” “aliens” and the inmates of penitentiaries.
By the turn of the 20th century, Canadian society had changed in dramatic ways
due to industrialization and urbanization. As many traditional networks that
had fulfilled the role of social welfare agents disintegrated, sickness,
unemployment, poverty and old-age were becoming public concerns. As early
as 1919, the Liberal Party of Canada adopted a platform that included federalprovincial cooperation toward “an adequate system of insurance against
unemployment, sickness and dependence in old age” (Carrigan 1968, p. 82).3
The activities of government in the social sphere, however, remained very
limited in the first decades of this century, reflecting a combination of the
limited role of the state in classic liberalism and, in addition, the paternalistic
tory concern for helping the less fortunate. Social concerns were left primarily
to provincial and local authorities, and were limited to provincial legislation
regulating work conditions and compensation, as well as allowing for the
provision of aid to the “deserving” poor through mothers’ pensions (Little
1995). In 1927, under pressure from Independent Labour MPs, Mackenzie
King’s minority Liberal government set up a federal old-age pension for the
needy elderly (Bryden 1974).
The Great Depression of the 1930s changed public attitudes about the poor and
the unemployed in a market economy, but also about the need for state
intervention to mitigate the effects of economic downturns. But there was no
bold government response, no sweeping social reform such as the Social
Security Act of 1935 in the United States, to the economic and social crisis
unleashed by the Great Depression (Struthers 1983). Relief measures were the
only recourse that fiscally prudent federal governments were prepared to
implement. The Conservative government of R. B. Bennett did introduce the
Employment and Social Insurance Act in 1935, but it was declared
unconstitutional and was never implemented.4
Nevertheless, the ravages of the Great Depression had important political
repercussions in Canada. With the absence of federal action, and the limited
capacity of provincial governments to address the economic crisis, reform
voices emerged in the political arena. Populist movements in western Canada,
fueled by a sense of exploitation and the push for democratic governance, were
propelled to prominence by the lack of response by the major parties.
Occupying both the right and left of the political spectrum, the Social Credit in
Alberta and the Co-operative Commonwealth Federation in Saskatchewan
expressed the feelings of western alienation and the concern of the people, as
opposed to economic and political elites.5
The Development of a Post-War Consensus
World War II was a watershed in the development of the welfare state in Canada
for both institutional and ideological reasons.6 First, the federal state’s
administrative capacity was greatly enhanced by the centralization made
necessary by the war effort, both in terms of mobilizing manpower and
178
resources, and in the tax rental agreements entered with the provinces. The war
effort also forced governments into major spending initiatives, loosening the
grip of fiscal rigidity and making Keynesian scenarios less improbable than
before. In addition, during the war years, the Liberal government in Canada was
under considerable political pressure to ensure social security. The 1940
Rowell-Sirois Report on Dominion-Provincial Relations (prompted by the
jurisdictional uncertainty that had plagued earlier social welfare initiatives)
agreed that social policy was the jurisdiction of the provinces because of their
constitutional responsibilities for hospitals (which could be interpreted to
include health insurance), local matters (and thus social assistance) and
property and civil rights (which covered workplace relations, and hence
unemployment insurance), but suggested that the federal government could
have a role to play in social policy through use of the federal spending power or
by the provinces’ delegating authority to the federal government.7
Electoral politics also played a role in this period. Labour peace, which had
been assured to some extent by the passage of employment insurance in 1940,
was by no means guaranteed. Nor, for that matter, was the labour vote, as the
left-wing CCF began to make inroads in provincial contests in industrialized
Ontario and British Columbia, and in national public opinion polls (Caplan
1973). The rise of alternative political movements did not go unnoticed by the
major political parties. The unmitigated economic liberalism of the Liberal
party was now tinged with a “welfare liberalism” that suggested a positive role
for the state in the economy and society. The Conservative Party, meanwhile,
intent on retaining support in western Canada, found it expedient to add the
“Progressive” label to its name in 1942 and to open its coalition to the so-called
democratic populist and “red” tory elements (Campbell and Christian 1996).
Propelling political parties to such positions was the force of ideas about the
role of the state in ensuring social rights. Part of the war rhetoric in Canada, as
indeed in other allied countries, centered on the idea of building a more secure
future in the transition from “warfare” to “welfare” state. The Beveridge Report
in Great Britain and the Marsh Report in Canada reinforced the idea that
governments were responsible for reconstructing a post-war order that would
extend beyond physical defense to an essential role in “securing more freedom
and opportunity” with the provision of a social minimum (Marsh 1975, 15).
This “providential” discourse about the role of the state altered the liberal
notion of individual responsibility and suggested that governments should
intervene to “socialize” the costs of misfortune due to old-age, sickness or
unemployment (Beauchemin, Bourque and Duchastel 1995). It also fed into the
idea of a “Fordist” compromise by ensuring workers and their families income
security in the face of cyclical economic downturns (Jenson 1989).
Conscious of the necessity to respond to labour demands and recognizing the
electoral pay-off of social reform promises but aware of the reticence of
business interests and potential jurisdictional conflicts, Prime Minister
Mackenzie King and his successors proceeded with caution. Despite the bold
rhetoric of reconstruction, social reform in the generation after the second
world war remained, in many respects, “gradual and piecemeal” (Noël,
Boismenu and Jalbert, p. 176). The sweeping recommendations of the Marsh
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IJCS / RIÉC
report and the proposals submitted by the federal government to the DominionProvincial Conference on Post-War Reconstruction, were not immediately
implemented or adopted by the federal government or the provinces.
Nevertheless, although the Liberal party remained divided over the extent of
social policy innovation, ensuring individual freedom through equality of
opportunity became an important dimension of post-war “welfare liberalism”
in Canada. In addition, the presence of the left, and specifically the role of the
CCF and NDP in provincial and federal politics, meant that the design of
Canadian social programs would be shaped, at least in part, by the ideal of
universality (Maioni 1997). In many respects, universality formed the basis of
the post-war social contract between the state and citizens: Canadians agreed to
contribute substantial amounts of their income as tax dollars in return for
government-sponsored social benefits to be available, as a matter of right, to
citizens regardless of social class or economic status.
The most significant innovation that illustrated this ideal was, of course, health
insurance. The CCF government in Saskatchewan played a crucial role in
demonstrating the feasibility of public hospital insurance in 1947 and, after
1962, public medical care insurance (Taylor 1987). As the Saskatchewan
model was diffused across the other provinces through use of the federal
spending power, social-democratic ideals of universality and equality became
entrenched within the Canadian welfare state. Although less explicit,
universality was also the basis of family allowances introduced in 1944
(Kitchen 1987) and the expansion of public pensions into a universal program
in 1951 (Bryden 1974). After 1951, federal grants to the provinces led to the
development of public financing for post-secondary institutions, fueled by the
return of veterans after the war and the growing educational needs of a modern
society (Chandler and Chandler 1979).
Other social programs introduced in this period reflected an inherently
“conservative” world-view: the notion of collective responsibility to ensure the
well-being of the less well-off in Canadian society. The idea of limiting all
forms of social protection to poorer Canadians was a guiding principle for
many tory politicians in provincial and federal politics, but the legacy of this
vision was limited in the post-war Canadian welfare state. It was, however, a
guiding principle in the provincial-federal agreements to provide social
assistance benefits and income supplements for the elderly poor. Although the
provincial programs funded in part under the Canada Assistance Plan were
explicitly targeted at the poor, they differed substantially from American
welfare entitlements in that they guaranteed a minimum level of subsistence to
needy Canadians regardless of their familial situation.
By the end of the 1960s, there was extensive state involvement, both federal and
provincial, in the economic and social lives of Canadians. Incremental change
had led to a patchwork of social programs, but one that offered a relatively
resilient safety net to citizens through the provision of a mixture of
comprehensive social benefits for health and education, universal family
allowances and old-age security, means-tested social assistance and income
supplements, and earnings-related pensions and unemployment
compensation.
180
Part 3: The Retrenchment of the Canadian Welfare State
Economic Shocks and Political Change
The expansionist phase of welfare state development waned in Canada, as in
most industrialized countries, with the end of the post-war economic boom.
The “stagflation” that resulted from the economic shocks of the 1970s served to
render obsolete the Phillips curve trade-off between inflation and
unemployment on which Keynesian macro-economic policy had relied.8 In
Canada, the effects of this fiscal crisis would lead to a tight monetary policy in
1975 in order to restrain inflation and, in order to contain labour pressure, wage
controls and limits on collective bargaining rights (Myles 1988).
But, just as the development of the welfare state in Canada had been
incremental, so too were attempts at retrenching social programs. The effects of
the fiscal crisis on social expenditures in most countries were, at least initially,
minimal in a quantitative sense. The reasons for this include the suggestion that
welfare state retrenchment is shaped by institutional factors, such as electoral
pressures and the influence of clientele networks, that brake efforts at radical
change (Pierson 1996). In Canada, particular economic features, such as heavy
reliance on resource extraction and export markets, and institutional
configurations, namely the central importance of federalism in social policymaking, made change even less smooth and transparent (Jenson and Phillips
1996).
The Canadian experience, like that of many other industrialized countries,
bears witness to an incremental process of restructuring although, in a
cumulative sense, it has significantly reshaped of the scope of social benefits
(Pierson and Smith 1993). Because of the popularity of social programs,
particularly those based on universal principles, and their importance in
promoting both labour peace and regional solidarity, political leaders were
loathe to be seen as dismantling the welfare state in the 1980s and 1990s.
Indeed, Conservative Prime Minister Brian Mulroney stressed his
government’s commitment to the “sacred trust” of social programs, while
Liberal Prime Minister Jean Chrétien emphasized the commitment to preserve
the “integrity” of Canada’s social programs. Successive federal governments,
however, were under intense fiscal pressure to control public expenditures in
order to reduce spiraling deficits. Meeting these fiscal objectives, while
maintaining a commitment to social protection, leads governments to engage in
certain strategies of “blame avoidance” (Weaver 1986) to control expenditures
while attempting to avoid any political fall-out.
In the Canadian context, the first such strategy, directed at reshaping social
programs funded and administered at the federal level, has been labeled social
policy “by stealth” by its critics (Gray 1990). This involved, for example, the
Conservative government’s “claw-back” of universal Old Age Security
through the tax system after 1989, and more recent proposals to consolidate the
OAS into a new “Senior’s Benefit” (Battle 1997). Family allowances, another
universal social program, were replaced in 1992 by the Child Tax Benefit
which allows income tax credits based on family income (Battle 1993).
Unemployment insurance proved a more difficult target for such a strategy
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IJCS / RIÉC
because of the program’s serious political implications in an economy wracked
by high levels of unemployment, with substantial regional variation across
Canada (McBride 1987). Reform of unemployment insurance was
characterized by visible political struggles which pitted not only workers and
labour groups against business, but the regions’ interests against each other. By
the early 1990s, tripartite funding of the program had given way to increased
premiums for employers and employees while benefit levels and duration
decreased. Eligibility criteria also changed, to the point where, by 1995, less
than half of unemployed workers qualified for benefits (Stanford 1996).
Although the program was not dismantled, the changes symbolized by the
Employment Insurance Act of 1996 led to severe political fall-out for the
Liberal government in the 1997 federal elections (Clarkson 1997).
Another strategy of “blame avoidance” in Canada flowed directly from the
institutional attributes of the Canadian polity, namely federal-provincial fiscal
arrangements. In the era of welfare state expansion, federal leaders were
generous in offering the financial resources to encourage provinces to set up
social programs. But since the late 1970s, federal governments have attempted
to gradually shift the burden of fiscal responsibility for jointly funded social
programs to the provinces in an attempt to control the deficit “monster,” a
process some critics have referred to as “off-loading” the deficit (Dupré 1996).
This involved in most cases unilaterally changing funding arrangements of
three jointly-funded social programs, post-secondary education, health care
and social assistance. Federal money earmarked for the first two were folded
together under the Established Programs Financing Act of 1977. In the place of
open-ended cost-sharing (which had previously been the basis for the financing
of hospital and medical care), the federal government offered tax “points” (or
shares of income tax revenues) and cash block grants to the provinces. As early
as 1982, a ceiling was placed on the EPF cash transfer; the Conservative
government then pursued reductions in the growth of these grants and a freeze
in transfers after 1991. As for social assistance, the Canada Assistance Plan
had, since 1966, allowed provinces to be reimbursed by the federal government
for 50% of their expenditures related to providing cash transfers and social
services to the poor. In 1991, the federal government modified this arrangement
by placing a 5% “cap” on annual increases to the three “richest” provinces,
Ontario, British Columbia and Alberta. In the 1995 federal budget, it was
further announced that CAP would be amalgamated with health and postsecondary education into a “super” block grant known as the Canada Health
and Social Transfer (CHST). Driven by deficit concerns, the CHST was
designed to cut federal social program spending over time by reducing the cash
portion of its transfers to the provinces by about $6 billion (Armitage 1996).
Decreased levels of federal funding and constitutional negotiations on
redesigning the Canadian federation have widened the debate about
decentralization and devolution in social policy-making, leading to a more
assertive stance by provincial premiers in defining the boundaries of federalprovincial involvement in the welfare state.9 Many changes of the past decade
have been seen as the result of unilateral federal actions that reduce the fiscal
“carrot” to the provinces and may have potential impact on the force of the
federal “stick” (Cameron 1994). Health care is a main concern as many
182
provinces experiment with ways to keep health costs under control. In 1984, the
Canada Health Act amalgamated federal hospital and medical care legislation
and imposed a monetary penalty on provinces that did not conform to federal
conditions. Notwithstanding the Liberal government’s continued commitment
to these conditions, as witnessed by the recommendations of its National
Forum on Health in 1997, the CHST has raised the spectre of a continued battle
of wills between the federal government and provinces that wish to experiment
with different forms of health care financing and delivery (O’Neill 1997). In the
case of social assistance, a different dynamic has occurred. The CHST was
accompanied by the rhetoric of “flexibility” in removing federal conditions
attached to the CAP except those concerning residency. Thus, provinces have
been given the flexibility to diverge with regard to eligibility, such as workfare,
or levels of assistance benefits (Evans 1995). In response to Quebec’s demands
for control of job training programs that respond to the specific needs of the
provincial workforce, the federal government has devolved responsibility for
employment services (funded through Employment Insurance) by entering
into bilateral labour market development agreements with the provinces
(Bakvis 1996b).
Changes in Canadian social policy in this era of retrenchment have been shaped
by the institutional attributes of the Canadian polity. However, these changes
have also been conditioned by the force of ideas transmitted through the
political system. In the past two decades, two “visions” of the crisis of the
welfare state have been evident in Canadian political discourse. The discourse
of the “new right,” in Canada as in other industrialized countries, posits that
crisis of the welfare state is related to two factors: that governments spend too
much on social programs, leading to fiscal irresponsibility in public
expenditure; and further, that social spending is itself inefficient, encouraging
dependency rather than promoting self-reliance (Watson et al., 1994). Related
to this is the question of Canada’s integration into the wider North American
economy and the impact of globalization and the search for competitiveness on
social policy (O’Higgins 1992). While the “new right” agenda was best
expressed by leaders such as Margaret Thatcher and Ronald Reagan, these
ideas have found outlets in varying degrees in Canada as well: through the
emphasis on deficit reduction, pursued by Conservative and Liberal federal
governments; the explicit targeting of social program spending by
Conservative governments in Alberta and Ontario; and the tax-reduction
rhetoric of the Reform Party, now the official opposition in the House of
Commons.
Critics on the left see the crisis of the welfare state in a different light. In this
view, attempts at retrenchment through reduced social spending threaten to
erode the promise and purpose of the Canadian welfare state. Proponents of this
view claim that such measures imperil the social rights of Canadians, because
the welfare state provides important benefits and assures some form of
redistribution of income to pay for these benefits. The transformation of federal
social benefits and new funding arrangements for shared-cost programs
increases competition between universal “middle-class” programs such as
health and education, and those programs directly targeted at the poor, leading
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IJCS / RIÉC
to a break-down in the social and political consensus surrounding the welfare
state (Phillips 1995).
Without question, the rise in prominence of new right explanations for the crisis
of the welfare state have permeated Canadian political discourse over the past
two decades and have helped chisel away at the post-war consensus
surrounding the Canadian welfare state. The three tenets that shaped this
consensus, based on the expression of liberalism, conservatism and socialdemocratic political thought, are themselves undergoing profound change as
Canadians and their political leaders reassess the relationship between
government and society in Canada.
The Social Security Review and Ideological Discourse
A significant example of this reassessment can be found in the federal social
security review of 1993-95. Social policy reform occupied an important place
in the transition between Conservative and Liberal governments in 1993. Kim
Campbell’s short-lived tenure as Prime Minister saw the reshuffling of the
social security responsibilities of the Department of Health and Welfare to the
Department of Health and a “Human Resources Development” portfolio,
setting the tone for including social security in a broader mandate of market
initiatives (Bakvis 1996a). While the Liberal party stressed a commitment to
social programs in an electoral “red-book,” appropriately titled, Creating
Opportunity, once in office it pursued a more imperative commitment to deficit
reduction. After a year-long social security review under the responsibility of
the new department of Human Resources Development Minister Lloyd
Axworthy presented his report to the House of Commons in October 1994.
Emphasizing that “the status quo is not an option” and that “Canada’s social
security system needs to be fixed,” the main objectives of the proposals were:
(1) to redirect resources from unemployment insurance to “employment
development” by emphasizing retraining and reintegration into the labour
market; (2) to finance post-secondary education through aid to individual
students rather than support to institutions via the provinces; and (3) to re-target
social assistance to the most vulnerable, namely children in poverty.10
The Axworthy discussion paper was a crucial document because, fifty years
after the 1945 “Greenbooks” on reconstruction, this new document attempted
to redefine the contours of the welfare state in Canada. In so doing, it also called
into question the fundamental tenets underlying the post-war welfare state in
Canada.11 In terms of liberalism, the most important shift was the explicit
emphasis on a “neo-liberal” discourse based on the state’s role in promoting
economic efficiency and growth that supplants the notion of the state as
protector of its citizens. While the objective of equality of opportunity
remained visible in the new proposals, the commitment to welfare liberalism as
a means to achieve that end was replaced by a strong undercurrent of economic
liberalism in which the welfare state is seen as a safety net that catches
individuals who have failed to find their niche in the market economy, rather
than protection against the market’s failure to provide sufficient opportunities
for work and subsistence. A shift toward economic liberalism is accompanied
by the supplanting of government as protector by the notion of government as
184
regulator of the welfare state in order to safeguard economic growth. The
Axworthy discussion paper, for example, outlined a more intrusive approach to
social protection, where the state is called upon to regulate social lives in order
to ensure that individuals play by the rules of the game in a market economy.
The social-democratic idea of universality in social programs was also called
into question by this social security review. Instead, the reform proposals
emphasized ways in which individuals and families could prove the most need
for social benefits. For example, the suggestion to adjust unemployment
insurance benefits based on family income involves identifying criteria by
which to “test” the need for such benefits. Proposals to withdraw federal
support for provincial funding of post-secondary institutions in exchange for
expanded loans to individual students also pointed toward an erosion of
universal access by burdening lower and middle-income Canadians with a
higher debt-loads.
A third tenet of the post-war welfare state was the “tory” understanding of the
state as an paternalistic instrument for ensuring the well-being of the less
fortunate members of society. Although the recurring images of paternalism
and community were evident in the Axworthy discussion paper, the tone
differed from traditional toryism in that the reform proposals emphasized
individual rather than collective responsibility. The targeting of security to the
“most vulnerable” reinforced the idea that social programs should be reserved
for those who cannot help themselves or who are unable to function on their
own initiative in the market rather than the sense of collective responsibility for
guaranteeing social protection through the state. The recourse to social
programs becomes associated with the failure of personal incentive rather than
the need for security. An additional hazard in times of tight budgets and deficit
cutting is that an emphasis on means-testing involves ranking access to social
protection among “deserving” individuals or groups, opening the door to the
redirection of funding priorities in which clientele groups are played off one
against another in a scramble for the pieces of the shrinking social welfare pie.
Although the Axworthy report was not acted upon by Parliament, its proposals
reflected the changing nature of the debate about social security in Canada and
the new political and fiscal stakes in the process of social reform. Initial
reactions to the Axworthy review were mixed. The parliamentary Standing
Committee that studied the proposals tabled its own report (the LeBlanc report)
that suggested Canadians had to be more involved in the process of
restructuring their social security system.12 In the final instance, however, both
the Axworthy and LeBlanc proposals were set aside by the February 1995
federal budget (Bill C-76, the Budget Implementation Act 1995), which
abolished the Canada Assistance Plan and introduced the Canada Health and
Social Transfer for block grants to the provinces. In December 1995,
unemployment insurance was replaced by a new “Employment Insurance”
system with the objective of reducing dependence by blending job market
needs with individuals’ skills and retraining opportunities.13 In addition,
although old age pensions were not on the electoral agenda in 1993 nor a feature
of the social security review, the 1996 budget included proposals to
amalgamate the universal Old Age Security and the Guaranteed Income
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IJCS / RIÉC
Supplement into a non-taxable but income-tested “Senior’s Benefit,” targeted
at lower-income Canadians (Prince 1997).
At the end of the 1990s, the welfare state in Canada is both the same as and
different than a generation ago. As Table 3 shows, the main contours of the
welfare state are still in place in Canada: important programs such as
unemployment insurance, pensions, health insurance, child benefits and social
assistance remain. What this chronology does not show, however, is that inside
the shells of these programs, fundamental change is taking place and being
discussed by governments. In this sense, the fin de siècle is an important period
of change that will affect the future social role of the Canadian state. The
changing nature of the Canadian welfare state also extends to the process of
social policy-making, addressed in the following section.
Table 3
Milestones in the Evolution of the Welfare State in Canada
1914
1920
1927
1930
1935
1940
1944
1945
1947
1951
1954
1956
1957
1961
1965
1966
1971
1977
1984
1992
1994
1996
186
Workmen’s Compensation (Ontario)
Mothers’Allowance (Ontario)
Old Age Pensions Act
War Veterans’ Allowance Act
Employment and Social Insurance Act (ruled ultra vires, 1937)
Unemployment Insurance Act (after constitutional amendment)
Family Allowances Act / National Housing Act
Dominion-Provincial Conference on Reconstruction
Hospital Services Plan (Saskatchewan)
Old Age Security Act (after constitutional amendment)
Old Age Assistance Act
Post-Secondary Education transfers
Disabled Persons Act
Unemployment Assistance Act
Hospital Insurance and Diagnostic Services Act
Medical Care Insurance Act (Saskatchewan)
Canada Pension Plan
Quebec Pension Plan
Canada Assistance Plan
Guaranteed Income Supplement
Medical Care Act
Unemployment Insurance Act
Established Programmes Financing Act
Canada Health Act
Child Tax Benefit
Social security review
Canada Health and Social Transfer
Employment Insurance Act
Seniors Benefit announced
Part 4: The Process of Social Policy-Making in Canada
As was suggested earlier, the division of powers between levels of government
found in the British North America Act of 1867 did not envisage a prominent
role for the state in social welfare matters. Although the state was considered a
crucial instrument for nation-building and economic growth in the early years
of Canadian confederation, a political leader like John A. Macdonald could
hardly fathom a situation in which governments would be responsible for their
citizens’ social protection, much less that provincial governments would
occupy such an important political space because of this.14
As the state has come to expand its role in economic and social life in the 20th
century, conflict has arisen between levels of government as these areas of
provincial jurisdiction became much more important than envisioned in the
BNA Act (Stevenson 1985). This federal-provincial conflict has had a
considerable impact on the development of the Canadian welfare state. As the
literature on federalism and the welfare state suggests, the division of power
between levels of government can have a dampening effect on social
expenditure (Cameron 1978). In Canada, the fragmentation of power and the
presence of competing governments considerably complicated the policymaking process and made it difficult to achieve consensus on social policy
(Banting 1987; McRoberts 1993). For example, during the 1930s, uncertainty
about responsibility over social welfare and the relative weakness of provincial
fiscal and administrative capacities led to an impasse in responding to the crisis
of the Great Depression. In the post-war years, resistance by certain provinces,
such as the conservative governments in Ontario and Quebec, stymied federal
efforts to forge a “national” welfare state. But several analyses have also shed
light on how the Canadian federal arrangement can have an expansionist
potential by allowing for provincial innovation in social policy areas, as in the
case of health insurance (Gray 1991), or by expanding the reform agenda
through federal-provincial negotiation, as was the case in pension reform
(Simeon 1972) and social assistance (Dyck 1979). In addition, the tendency
toward institutional immobility in federalism, of incrementalism at the expense
of rapid change, may have served to blunt the impact of new right ideology, and
to “anchor Canadian politics near the centre” (Noël, Boismenu and Jalbert
1993, 186).
The federal government used two approaches in attempting to ensure its
presence in social policy: first, by extending individual equity through use of
the federal spending power in funding provincial health, education and social
assistance programs, and the creation of federal unemployment insurance and
old-age security through constitutional amendment; and second, through
equalization transfers from richer to poorer provinces as a form of regional
equity. In many respects, federal involvement in social policy has been used in
Canada as a form of “national integration” and as an instrument of
legitimization by the federal government vis-à-vis the provinces as the welfare
state became an element of “cultural definition” for Canadians (Banting 1995).
A good example of this are the recent efforts on the part of the Liberal
government to promote national unity by lauding the federal role in ensuring a
Canadian “social union,” as a counterweight to pressure for further
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decentralization, as expressed by Conservative governments in Alberta and
Ontario and through the Reform Party in the House of Commons, and to offset
demands for increased autonomy for Quebec as the Parti Québécois
government and the Bloc Québécois in Ottawa push toward the goal of
sovereignty.15
But the federal government’s attempts to promote individual and regional
equity through social policy have come under increasing scrutiny in the era of
welfare state retrenchment. One reason has been the perception that the federal
government is engaged in unilaterally setting the terms of social reform, in spite
of the fact that this area is under provincial jurisdiction and that, in the past,
attempts at comprehensive reform of social security involved the provinces in
the reform process. For example, the original 1945 “Greenbook” proposals on
social security were prepared in anticipation of a federal- provincial conference
on post-war reconstruction; the 1970s social security review included the
explicit involvement of the provinces in the discussion and negotiation of social
policy reform. By contrast, the Axworthy social security review and the
National Forum on Health were noticeable for the absence of formal
participation by the provinces. Although the Axworthy discussion papers made
reference to the provinces in terms of the “partnership” between the two levels
of government, the emphasis was on the need to determine who is “best able” to
deliver social benefits to individuals. The National Forum on Health, which
was boycotted by most of the provinces, underscored the importance of the
federal presence in maintaining public funding for health care and enforcing the
principles of the Canada Health Act.16
These attempts to promote a “social union” are challenged by the reality of
devolution, in the form of budget-driven policy initiatives and shifting the
burden of paying for social programs to the provinces. The provinces, in turn,
are experimenting with ways to further shift the burden to even more “local”
levels of governance such as municipalities, or directly onto the consumers and
providers of social benefits. This trend raises the question of whether the
federal government can continue to impose federal standards in areas such as
health care and social assistance, which are funded by block grants in which the
cash portion is rapidly declining.
This disengagement from the responsibility for the financing of social
programs, such as the new CHST, may raise pressures for further
decentralization in the Canadian welfare state. Provincial premiers are already
engaged in attempts to redefine the “social union” to stress more inclusive rules
for intergovernmental cooperation in social policy matters.17 While this may
allow for more innovation by provincial governments to meet the specific
needs of their residents, it may also, in turn, lead to more inter-regional disparity
in social benefits (Banting 1995). In the case of health care, for example, the
Conservative government of Premier Ralph Klein has suggested the
withdrawal of federal conditions in order to allow for alternatives to the singlepayer model in Alberta; in Quebec, meanwhile, the Parti Québécois
government sees federal intervention as inimical to the preservation of the
community-based “Quebec model” in health care. A more concrete example
can be found in the recent reforms that have led the provinces of Ontario and
188
Quebec down widely divergent paths in the area of child welfare. In Ontario,
new “work-for-welfare” legislation has replaced the existing family benefits
system, requiring single parents with school-aged children to participate in
workfare programs. The Quebec government, on the other hand, is launching a
universal child-care program that includes subsidized daycare, family
allowances and parental leaves.18
The role of the welfare state in promoting solidarity and ensuring equity
between Canadians raises issues associated with citizenship and social rights.
At the same time as governments attempt to restructure the welfare state, there
has also been a parallel process of “re-configuring” the relationship between
state and society in Canada. The constitutional reforms of the early 1980s, in
particular the entrenchment of a Charter of Rights and Freedoms, was to lead to
a new status for individuals and groups in the political arena, transforming
social policy-making from the autonomous domain of mandarins and
governments to take into account the exigencies of inclusionary politics
(Cairns 1991). This idea of direct participation and dialogue was welldemonstrated, for example, in the Axworthy social security review, which
emphasized consultation, the exchange of ideas, and the importance of the
relationship between individuals and the state in determining the objectives and
instruments of social reform.
The reality of social reform, however, points to a different dynamic. Despite the
rhetoric of consultation and inclusion, the era of welfare state retrenchment in
Canada has not engaged citizens in a debate about the fundamental changes in
the relationship between state and society. Instead, the major federal social
reforms of the past decade have been driven by fiscal policy concerns through
the budget-making process. Some provinces have engaged in extensive public
consultations on social reform (of which the best example is Quebec’s health
and social program review), but for the most part, attention to public concerns
have come after the fact (as, for example, the Alberta government’s reaction to
opposition to its health care expenditure cuts).
In addition, as Jenson and Phillips suggest, the withdrawal of support for broadbased advocacy groups, such as women’s groups and anti-poverty
organizations, and their weakening ability to represent citizens to the state is
especially significant, for these are the groups “most likely to oppose the
retrenchment of the welfare state” (Jenson and Phillips, 1996, 127). In the new
Canadian political landscape in which the left is in eclipse and regional interests
drive the political agenda, the emphasis on the relationship between the
individual citizen and the state, as opposed to an emphasis on political
community, is of significant portent.
Conclusion: Whither the Canadian Welfare State?
At century’s end, one of the primary functions of Canadian governments is their
responsibility for social protection. Although Canada remains a “liberal”
welfare state, the extent and scope of state involvement in the social lives of its
citizens goes undoubtedly far beyond what its political leaders could have
imagined a century ago. Unlikely, too, is that these leaders would have
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conceived of a “social union” as an instrument for integration and equalization
between the far-flung regions of this country.
It was suggested at the outset that the reasons for Canada’s unique welfare state
development is due to both a certain ideological eclecticism in the Canadian
political spectrum, and the configuration of institutions, namely federalism, in
the shaping of social policy. At century’s end, both of these are undergoing
profound changes in the Canadian political community. The current emphasis
on the role of government regulation rather than social protection, the targeting
of programs rather than the universality of social insurance, and the shifting of
the burden from collective to individual responsibility all point toward a
reassessment of government’s role in guaranteeing social rights through the
welfare state. The processes of devolution and decentralization, whether by
design or by default, have also affected the capacity of the state to ensure social
protection in the Canadian community, rekindling debates over which level of
government, if any, is responsible for doing so.
The reassessment of the role of the state in social protection may be a response
to changes in ideological tendencies and institutional structures in Canada, as
governments attempt to address both fiscal concerns and political imperatives.
It is clear that a long era of expansion of the Canadian welfare state, one of the
defining features of the Canadian experience in this century, has come to an
end. On the eve of the next millennium, the social benefits of the welfare state
that many Canadians have come to expect as a social right are poised to undergo
even greater change and, in so doing, point toward a fundamental redesign of
the relationship between citizens and their governments in Canada.
Notes
An earlier version of this text was presented at the Fourth Biennial Conference of the Russian
Association for Canadian Studies in Moscow, Russia in June 1997. Thanks are due to the
participants of the conference for their insights and to the useful comments and suggestions
of the Journal’s reviewers.
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
190
Wilfrid Laurier promoted this vision during the Liberal party’s election campaign of 1904;
see Beck (1968), chap. 10.
This comparative dynamic is traced by Lipset (1986).
The new Liberal leader, Mackenzie King, had played a key role in developing federal labour
policy (as the Department of Labour’s first Deputy Minister).
It was Bennett’s successor, Mackenzie King, who referred the legislation to the Judicial
Committee of the Privy Council in London (Canada’s final court of appeal until 1949); the
JCPC, continuing its tendency to interpret broadly the constitutional powers of the
provinces, upheld an earlier Supreme Court ruling that the Act infringed on provincial
jurisdiction (Manfredi 1993, 29-30).
On populism in the Prairie provinces, see David Laycock (1990).
The war experience had a major impact on the administrative capacity of the Canadian
government and on attitudes toward the welfare state; see Granatstein (1975), chap. 7.
Report of the Royal Commission on Dominion-Provincial Relations Book II:
Recommendations (Ottawa: King’s Printer, 1940); see also Smiley 1962.
Although, as Campbell (1987) suggests, post-war Canadian economic policy never fully
reflected this Keynesian model. For a discussion of the impact of economic shocks on the
industrialized world, see Lindberg and Maier (1985).
9.
10.
11.
12.
13.
14.
15.
16.
17.
18.
The Ministerial Council on Social Policy Reform and Renewal’s Report to Premiers (1995),
for example, outlines how decentralization could include more federal-provincial
cooperation in setting standards and funding levels for cost-shared social programs.
Human Resources Development Canada, Improving Social Security in Canada: A
Discussion Paper, October 1994; for a discussion of the Axworthy report, see Guest (1997),
chap. 15.
The following discussion relies on the ideas put forward in Maioni (1994).
Standing Committee on Human Resources Development, Security, Opportunity, Fairness:
Canadians renewing their social programs, January 1995. The two Opposition parties both
dissented with the report: the Bloc Québécois in denouncing federal intrusion in social
policy areas under provincial jurisdiction; and the Reform Party’s vision of replacing the
welfare state with individual self-reliance and, where absolutely necessary, decentralized
social service delivery.
Human Resources Development Canada, A 21st Century Employment System for Canada:
Guide to Employment Insurance Legislation (1995).
Some insights into the type of “Federal Union” that was envisaged by Macdonald can be
found in his “Speech on the Quebec Resolutions” (1985[1865]).
This is a prominent feature of the federal government’s political discourse, particularly since
the Quebec referendum on sovereignty in 1995, as expressed primarily by the Minister of
Intergovernmental Affairs, Stéphane Dion; see for example, Dion (1997).
The Forum’s report also underscored the federal government’s responsibility to guarantee a
minimum of cash transfers to help finance provincial health care systems; National Forum
on Health, Canada Health Action: Building on the Legacy (1997), pp. 20-21.
At the 1996 Premier’s conference, a Council on Social Policy was set up specifically to
address “federal unilateralism.” The Council’s 1997 Report, New Approaches to Canada’s
Social Union, stressed the need for provincial input to identify and enforce “shared”
principles, establish the ground rules for intergovernmental cooperation and develop new
joint mechanisms for dispute resolution.
Richard Mackie and Margaret Philip, “Single parents to work for welfare” Globe and Mail,
June 13, 1997, p. A1; Margaret Philip, “Child-care plan makes Quebec distinct” Globe and
Mail, June 17, 1997, p. A1.
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194
Richard Vengroff and Zaira Reveron
Decentralization and Local Government Efficiency
in Canadian Provinces: A Comparative
Perspective
Abstract
In spite of the constant tug of war over Quebec separation and threats by
other provinces to go their own way, some would argue that much of what is
valued in Canada arises from the high degree of decentralization between the
federal government and the provinces and within the provinces themselves.
Richard Simeon observed that in Canada “federalism has been a source of
extraordinary innovation, adaptability and accommodation” (Simeon, 1986).
Since the 1950s, experiments with new forms of decentralized government in
Canada, such as metro Toronto, have been heralded as models of democracy
and efficiency. The ongoing financial crisis in Canada is placing ever
increasing demands on both provincial and local governments for a new
distribution of responsibilities and for major organizational changes.
A set of comparative, baseline measures of in-province decentralization and
of local government efficiency are developed. These measures can be
employed to test changes in decentralization generated by the neoliberal
reforms being implemented throughout Canada. Considerable variation
between the provinces on both of these measures has been shown to exist. The
apparent link between decentralization quality and efficiency, however, is
modified by important contingencies such as thresholds of wealth and size.
Résumé
En dépit des tensions résultant de la possibilité de la sécession du Québec et
des menaces faites par d’autres provinces de s’engager elles aussi sur leur
propre voie, certains prétendront qu’une bonne partie de ce qui fait la valeur
du Canada est attribuable au très haut degré de décentralisation qui
caractérise les relations entre le gouvernement fédéral et les provinces, de
même que ce qui se passe à l’intérieur des provinces elles-mêmes. Richard
Simeon faisait remarquer que, au Canada, « le fédéralisme s’est avéré une
source extraordinaire d’innovation, d’adaptabilité et de compromis »
(Simeon, 1986). Depuis les expériences des années cinquante, de nouvelles
formes de gouvernements décentralisés au Canada (par exemple, le Toronto
métropolitain) ont été présentées comme des modèles de démocratie et
d’efficacité. La crise financière qui se poursuit au Canada soumet les
gouvernements tant locaux que provinciaux à des pressions toujours
croissantes pour qu’ils procèdent à un nouveau partage des responsabilités,
ainsi qu’à des restructurations organisationnelles profondes.
IJCS / RIÉC
Les auteurs élaborent un ensemble de mesures de base comparatives de la
décentralisation à l’intérieur des provinces et de l’efficacité des
gouvernements locaux. On pourra se servir de ces mesures pour évaluer les
changements survenus au plan de la décentralisation à la suite de la mise en
œuvre de réformes néolibérales partout au Canada. On observe des
variations importantes entre les provinces du point de vue de chacune de ces
deux mesures. Même s’il semble exister un lien entre l’efficacité et la qualité
de la décentralisation, ce lien est modifié par plusieurs variables importantes,
telles les seuils de richesse et la taille.
Canada’s public service delivery systems have become the envy of the world,
ranking first in the United Nations’ Human Development Index (HDI, U.N.
1995), a proxy measure for the quality of life. In spite of the constant tug of war
over Quebec separation and threats by other provinces to go their own way,
some would argue that much of what is valued in Canada arises from the high
degree of decentralization between the federal government and the provinces.
Richard Simeon has argued that in Canada “federalism has been a source of
extraordinary innovation, adaptability and accommodation” (Simeon, 1986).
Cross-national comparisons of functions, finance and levels of
decentralization lead to the conclusion that, even in relation to some of the most
decentralized industrial nations, Canada places among the most advanced on
this dimension.1 It has been held up as a model of decentralization for other
countries, both in the industrial and developing worlds (Simeon, 1986: 460;
Gauthier, 1992).
The Issue of Decentralization
Decentralization has been variously viewed as a policy and as a method or
mechanism for more effectively identifying, developing, preparing and
implementing policy. It has serious implications for a full range of issue areas,
from agriculture, public safety and health to public works, the environment,
recreation, gender equity, education and multiculturalism. In general, the
concept of decentralization is closely linked to broader efforts to improve the
quality of governance and thus make policy choices and implementation more
effective, more efficient, more participatory and more responsive to
democratically expressed needs and objectives. Finally, many authors suggest
that decentralization is more conducive to overall economic development than
are highly centralized regimes (Hyden, 1984; Wunsch, 1991).
Diverse rationales for decentralization have been adopted by governments and
various international organizations. Lalaye and Olowu, writing for the World
Bank, argue that,
decentralization should be considered as an ideal towards the
achievement of which one should strive given the accepted view that it
is conducive to development in all of its ramifications. The ideal poses
self-governance, participation and representativeness as a means of
insuring maximum local resource mobilization, effectiveness, and
efficiency in service delivery (Lalaye and Olowu, 1989: 79).
The rationale for local government in Canada, according to Kernaghan and
Siegel is based on the issues of access, responsiveness and service (1987: 587-
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in Canadian Provinces
588). Lindquist suggests that decentralization is “often touted as an alternative,
promising set of governance arrangements more conducive to determining
local needs, encouraging innovation and responsiveness to citizens, and
furthering autonomy and democracy” (1994: 418, see also Charlick, 1992). For
the most part, these disparate objectives are not mutually exclusive, and may
even be cumulative. Nevertheless, they can sometimes be contradictory
(Schoenberger, 1981) or conflict with other objectives such as equity.
The motivations behind decentralization in Canadian provinces, despite vast
differences in context, are much the same as those which have led in recent
years to increasing decentralization in OECD nations such as Germany,
France, Belgium and the U.K. In these countries,
the real reasons for decentralization include strong territorially
concentrated ethnic or regional pressures, disenchantment with the
costs and central controls of the welfare state, the need to retrench in
various national program areas, disillusionment with the performance
of central government bureaucracies and a concomitant desire to
revitalize local democracy (Walker, 1991: 127).
However, reformers who posit decentralization in Canada’s provinces to solve
their diverse problems should not ignore the difficulties experienced and the
somewhat mixed reviews in Europe and elsewhere.
Decentralization has been defined in many different ways by many different
analysts (see Lindquist, 1994). For our purposes, the widely cited definition of
decentralization, provided by Rondinelli, Nellis, and Cheema over a decade
ago remains among the most useful:
Decentralization can be defined as the transfer of responsibility for
planning, management and resource raising and allocation from the
central government and its agencies to: (a) field units of central
government ministries or agencies, (b) subordinate units or levels of
government, (c) semiautonomous public authorities or corporations,
(d) area wide, regional or functional authorities, or (e) nongovernmental private or voluntary organizations (1984: 9).
In this study, we examine the issue of decentralization within Canadian
provinces, i.e., the extent to which the high degree of federal-provincial
decentralization translates into provincial-local decentralization and
devolution.
Findings on the success of decentralization as a service delivery strategy
around the world have been quite mixed. Much of the inconsistency can be
attributed to the quite low, or in some cases nonexistent, correlation between
“formally” announced programs of decentralization and a serious and
successful effort at its implementation. In this sense, many studies strongly
criticize the general approach various regimes have taken to decentralization,
its implementation, or both. In discussing the record of decentralization in Latin
America, for example, Lowder argues that:
Decentralization, like any other policy, can only be implemented
successfully from a position of strength by a state committed to it,
prepared to devote the resources to it, and prepared to persuade others
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that it will be of benefit to them. Rarely is this the case;
decentralization schemes are more likely to be time-buying exercises
in which the cards are shuffled to make it harder for the players to
appreciate the strength of individual hands (Lowder, 1992: 192).
This critique is not, however, limited to Latin America. It emerges just as
clearly in the literature on Asia (Rondinelli, 1983; Conyers, 1981; Nooi, 1987),
Eastern Europe (Farkas, 1995), Africa (Conyers, 1983; Lungu, 1986;
Vengroff, 1994) and Canada (Cameron, 1994A).
Serious evaluation of the implementation of decentralization is especially
important in Canada because of the changes occurring in central-provincial
relations and provincial-local relations. As a group of Canadian public officials
participating in a recent seminar on decentralization noted, “the overwhelming
experience...was that administrative reform and decentralization are mostly
facades behind which lurks the driving force of fiscal restraint” (Cameron,
1994: 388).
Too often, decentralization has acquired the image of a fad or an ideological
commitment rather than a realistic, governmental, capacity-building strategy
(Conyers, 1983). Policy-makers seem to cherish an unrealistic and unjustified
assumption that decentralization produces instant benefits that immediately
help to balance budgets and reduce deficits at the provincial level. In Canadian
provinces, as elsewhere, decentralized local and municipal governments
cannot and should not be expected to fully remedy central or provincial
government deficiencies.
We must begin to view decentralization as an evolutionary rather than a
revolutionary process, with advantages and disadvantages that can only be
assessed over time and in relation to a particular context. As Lindquist noted,
“[i]t is becoming increasingly important to question the myth that
decentralization is necessarily a good thing” (1994). Decentralization policies
and programs, rather than producing immediate changes in governance,
require careful nurturing themselves.
Instead, decentralization should be viewed as a complementary means to
increase overall government capacity by strengthening local governmental
capabilities and improving cooperation between levels. It requires close
collaboration between governments at all levels so that the deconcentration of
central ministries and devolution to local authorities follow a method or
sequence designed to maximize cooperation and coordination and positively
reinforce local central linkages (Cameron, 1994). Rather than a one time
administrative intervention, decentralization may more accurately fit the
description of an iterative process that suggests new divisions of responsibility,
some more decentralized, some more centralized, some shared.
The complexities and contingencies associated with decentralization demand
consideration (Thompson, Connerly and Wunsch, 1986). The performance of
local government and the participation of the population in it may depend
heavily on four key factors:
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1)
political culture (Inglehart, 1988; Eckstein, 1988; Lipset, 1990;
Brym, 1986; Ornstein, 1986; Matthews and Davis, 1986; Gibbins,
1990; Putnam, 1993);
2) financial capacity (Bahl, Miner, and Schroeder, 1984; Olowu
and Smoke, 1992; Nooi, 1987; Vengroff and Johnston, 1987;
Minis, et al., 1989; Seck, 1991; Diop, 1992; Vengroff, 1993);
3) structural and legal arrangements (see Page, 1991 and Page and
Goldsmith, 1987) including the allocation of functional
responsibilities; and
4) personnel and organizational capacity issues (see Ingham and
Kalam,1992; Werlin, 1992; Vengroff and Umeh, 1997;
Vengroff and Ben Salem, 1992).
How these factors play out is critical to our overall assessment of the impact,
real and potential, of decentralization in the Canadian context.
The Case of Canada’s Provinces
Decentralization has become deeply ingrained in Canadian political culture
and its regional subcultural variants. In fact, the sense of attachment to the home
province remains as strong, if not stronger in several provinces, as attachment
to country: the average for the 10 provinces on the affect scale is 83.0 for
Canada and 82.3 for the home province (Fisher and Vengroff, 1995). Even
more significant is the fact that by overwhelming margins when given the
choice between the provincial and the federal governments, Canadians feel that
the province provides the better government and more effectively serves their
needs. The average margin between those saying the provincial government is
better in this regard and those preferring the federal government (based on the
1992 national referendum survey) was 25 percentage points in favour of the
province: 48.3% to 23.6% respectively (Fisher and Vengroff, 1995). This
relationship held in 9 of the 10 provinces, Newfoundland, the last province to
join Canada and the one most dependent on federal government transfer
payments for its very survival, being the sole exception by only a slim margin of
2 percent. Although Canadians have long supported a key role for Ottawa in
health care, provincial governments are currently pushing for greater control in
this area as well in light of budget cuts. Furthermore, recent opinion polls
consistently show that the closer the government to them the higher the
confidence Canadians have in it (Regenstreif, 1995).
Since Canada’s constitution assigns full authority for local government to the
provinces, there is considerable variation in how decentralization has
proceeded, how local government is structured, what functions it performs,
how it relates to and/or collaborates with provincial government, and how the
current political/economic climate is likely to affect it.
The extremely close vote in the October 30, 1995 referendum in Quebec
opened a small window of opportunity for negotiating an even greater degree of
provincial autonomy. In this regard, the Financial News noted that:
devolution and decentralization are now key components of the
federal response to the Quebec referendum. Now in promising to
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negotiate new administrative arrangements for program delivery, the
federal government seems to be placing service delivery at the centre
of its approach to federal provincial relations (Nov. 3, 1995).
Prime Minister Chrétien has proceeded with some efforts to fulfill his promises
of greater decentralization to Québec in the final days of the referendum
campaign. Indeed, the transfer of responsibility for manpower training,
forestry and, to some degree, fisheries has furthered progress in this regard.
Federal-provincial negotiations on devolution are also under discussion in a
number of other areas, particularly social policy. The demand for even greater
provincial autonomy is still an issue across Canada and was a key component of
the Reform Party platform in the 1997 national election. Chrétien is under some
pressure within his own party to proceed with caution for both fiscal and policy
reasons. For example, British Columbia’s decision to place residency
requirements on welfare recipients was characterized by the then federal
Human Resources Development Minister, Lloyd Axworthy, as “as much a
thrust toward separation as what Bouchard was doing” (McGinnis, 1995:
A4B).
This desire for decentralization to the provinces has a strong impact on local
government throughout Canada as well (SOM, 1994: 13). Several efforts have
been made to include local government in the federal constitution (Union of
British Columbia Municipalities, 1995). According to Canadian management
specialist Henry Mintzberg, what is needed is “a constitutional means by which
to pass certain powers to the level where they most concern us: where we live
our daily lives, in our local communities” (1995: 60). He goes on to argue that
devolution to the local level is one of the most fundamental issues for
government reform in Canada. These concerns for strengthening and/or
maintaining strong local governments may well represent a desire felt
throughout Canada’s provinces and have very little to do with the issue of
sovereignty (Kostash, 1995).
Since the 1950s, experiments with new forms of decentralized government in
Canada, such as metro Toronto, have been heralded as models of democracy
and efficiency. Recently, in light of severe provincial budget cuts, officials of
Metropolitan Toronto visited several areas of the U.S. in an unsuccessful effort
to identify new models potentially applicable to their situation. The “neoliberal” oriented government of Premier Harris in Ontario passed Bill 103 (the
City of Toronto Act) effectively merging the six major cities of the Toronto
Metropolitan region into the new “mega city” of Toronto over the strong
objection of the local citizenry. He is also pursuing a very intense program of
municipal reorganization (consolidation) and downloading a variety of
functions, even such sacred cows as health care.
The importance attached to local government was brought home to the
government of Quebec by the discussions of the regional commissions set up to
examine the future of the province. “La décentralisation est apparue l’un des
thèmes de discussion les plus fréquemment abordés par les participants aux
commissions régionales sur l’avenir du Québec”2 (Décentralisation, un choix
de société, 1995). Decentralization, either greater deconcentration to Quebec’s
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sixteen administrative regions, or greater devolution to the regions and
municipal governments, or both, were identified as a high priority.
Au cours des derniers mois, les Québécoises et les Québécois ont
exprimé leurs attentes et leurs espoirs d’une nouvelle façon de faire les
choses, basée sur une plus grande responsabilisation des
communautés locales et régionales3 (Décentralisation, un choix de
société, 1995).
Representatives of municipalities and school boards argued that:
regardless of the outcome [of the referendum on sovereignty for
Quebec] they regard decentralization as a veritable priority. Other
groups perceive decentralization as an issue and as a necessity,
notwithstanding the constitutional context (Commission nationale
sur l’avenir du Québec, 1995: 32).
Furthermore, many argued for including decentralization as a part of the new
constitution of Quebec. Because of the high level of interest and concern and
the general salience of the issue, the so-called “livre vert” (green book) on the
future of decentralization in Quebec was issued to respond to the public and
stimulate interest in sovereignty.
The emphasis in the study of decentralization in Canada in the past has focused
on federal-provincial relations. The literature is dominated by individual case
studies ill-suited to generalizations or an assessment of the broader policy
implications. These micro level studies, although still useful in identifying
critical issues and filling gaps in our knowledge of decentralization, have their
limits. Very little comparative research has centered on the issue of
decentralization within the provinces, Michael Fernet’s recent study, presented
to the IPAC seminar on decentralization and power sharing, being a notable
exception (Fernet, 1994). For this reason, a systematic evaluation of the
implementation of decentralization is especially important. In this paper, the
authors undertake a comparative analysis of the “quality” or degree of
decentralization within the provinces.
Canada is just emerging from a severe financial crisis. Huge deficits run up by
the federal and provincial governments, coupled with years of less than optimal
economic performance, have created conditions in all of the provinces
requiring significant and serious changes (Fernet, 1994, Lindquist, 1994,
Cameron, 1994, Lindquist and Sica, 1995). From the Atlantic to the Pacific, the
Maritimes to B.C., provinces which once expressed little concern for the issue
are now reporting or striving for balanced budgets (Chatelaine, 1995, Lindquist
and Sica, 1995). Even the “populist” NDP government in Saskatchewan is
undertaking a combination of cuts and tax increases designed to balance its
budget, and the “social democratic” PQ government of Lucien Bouchard
proposed and is now in the process of implementing serious cuts which will
undoubtedly affect the “social safety net.” Furthermore, as payrolls and
benefits recede at all levels, the motivation and organizational capacity of both
provincial and local governments to perform assigned functions becomes
critical. The case of labour action by public employees in Ontario in February
1996, and the threats of such action in Quebec in December 1996 and mid-
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1997, and the recent teachers’ strike in Ontario, are indicative of the growth of
such problems in periods of cutbacks.
From this perspective, the study of in-province decentralization is important,
especially now that the rules of the game are changing quite radically
(Cameron, 1994, Lindquist and Sica, 1995). Elections of fiscally conservative
governments, starting with Alberta in 1993 through to the transfer of power to
the Progressive Conservatives in Ontario in June 1995, have led to a new series
of deficit-cutting policies with very important implications for local
government. The newly passed, highly controversial “omnibus bill” provides
the provincial government of Ontario with a virtual carte blanche for new cuts.
Premier Harris is in the process of decreasing transfer payments for
municipalities and municipal services by more than 20 percent, affecting
everything from libraries to health. Metro Toronto is anticipating as much as 25
percent cuts in its various departments’ budgets over the next two years, and
layoffs are sure to figure in the process. Ontario joined several other provinces
which have rewritten their Municipal Acts to reflect the new market-driven
vision of government services, forcing further cuts of over $500 million in
municipal budgets by 1999.
The case of Alberta, the province which is “furthest along” in these “reforms,”
is instructive. The budget for the Ministry of Municipal Affairs was trimmed by
more than 35 percent between 1993 and 1995 (Dinning, 1995: 44). Grants to
municipalities for parks and recreation have been cut by as much as 25 to 33
percent from 1994-95 to 1995-96. Many services have been privatized (e.g.
vehicle registration and licenses) or outsourced, staffs have been cut back, and
other safety net services, such as renters’ assistance to senior citizens, have
been eliminated. A new Municipal Government Act aims to “provide greater
autonomy, and flexibility to municipalities in managing their affairs and to
reduce the regulatory burden on municipalities” (Dinning, 1995: 105). All of
this and more is being undertaken in conjunction with a commitment to limiting
taxes to their current levels and not adding new ones. Although Premier Klein
relented before the provincial elections and increased oil revenues produced a
government revenue surplus, the basic thrust of his regime, even with its
renewed second mandate, remains the same.
Perhaps the key financial issue is the mix of taxes and revenue sources available
to local government. Invariably, central government sources of revenue far
exceed those available at the regional or municipal levels. In Canada, federal
government revenue relies heavily on the personal and corporate income tax,
provincial revenue comes primarily from sales (except for Alberta which has
no sales tax) and income taxes and localities must rely first and foremost on the
property tax. Some process to reallocate resources thus becomes essential,
especially in a period of restructuring, deficit reduction and administrative
reform. Canada and its provinces continue to address this issue in the form of
transfer and equalization payments. However, the impact and costs of cuts and
the tax burden get shifted from one level to another when economic pressures
are intense. Transfers are lowered and block grants become more common but
the trade-off for more autonomy is invariably less funding. The Minister of
Municipal Affairs in British Columbia, for example has proposed restructuring
202
its transfers to local government, reducing them by $113 million in 1997-98. In
Quebec, the so-called “New Municipal Pact,” an agreement between the Union
of Quebec Municipalities (UMQ, which represents the larger cities) and the
provincial government will result in municipal governments absorbing $375
million in budget cuts while the school boards absorb an additional $75 million.
The local level is invariably the loser in this deficit-reducing, budget- cutting
game.
Federal transfers to the provinces and local governments are diminishing and
those that remain are linked to even greater responsibilities, although with
some increased flexibility (health for example) for the provision of services. In
turn, functions, heretofore considered to be provincial or shared
responsibilities are now being dumped on the municipalities and local school
boards. We find the somewhat paradoxical situation of seemingly greater
“decentralization” of service delivery within provinces, but often without the
accompanying transfer of revenue sources necessary for implementation. In
addition, “alternative program delivery” has moved well beyond the stage of
rhetoric and is being actively pursued by governments across the country. How
governments deliver programs, if indeed they decide to deliver them at all, is
being revolutionized (Lindquist and Sica, 1995).
Transfers of both functions and financial responsibility from the province to the
local level seems to be proceeding in an unabated and sometimes
uncoordinated, unsystematic fashion. New Brunswick, for example,
announced that all regional school boards would be abolished and parent
organizations established at the school level. This move is supposed to both
save money and improve the quality of education. Critical political decisions
like this are being thrust upon the local level by provincial legislatures willing
to cut budgets but often unwilling to make the tough political choices
themselves about which local services to cut.
Much of the neo-liberal policy thrust toward efficiency, effectiveness and less
government has taken the form of some type of municipal consolidation.
Newfoundland is involved in a program of municipal regionalization, and New
Brunswick and Nova Scotia have engaged in consolidations and
amalgamation, the creation of the Halifax Regional Municipality being one
good example. In the far west, British Columbia provides restructuring grants
to encourage and facilitate consolidation and the realignment of services. Since
the advent of the Harris government, Ontario has approved 61 restructuring
proposals, reducing the 227 municipalities involved to 93. In Quebec, the PQ
government is pushing a massive, phased program of municipal consolidation
designed to reduce 624 small municipalities to 206 in the first phase alone.
In sum, at the provincial level there is a demand for greater decentralization of
federal funds, programs and tax bases to the provinces. Within the provinces,
there are pressures for budget cuts and greater fiscal responsibility. At the local
level the desire for greater local control and democratic participation is
unabated. These forces conflict and result in provincial efforts to centralize
resources while “dumping” unwanted functions on the locales and demanding
greater efficiency through municipal consolidation.
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Data and Methods
In this section, the authors attempt a systematic look at one of the most critical
issues related to decentralization within Canada’s provinces. We assume that
the degree to which they have decentralized power to units of local or regional
government varies considerably between provinces (as shown below, to be the
case). Since the thrust of most of the reforms currently being implemented is to
promote greater “efficiency” with the perspective that less government is better
government, we will first examine the extent to which decentralization is
associated with differences in governmental efficiency at the local level. Is
local government more or less efficient than provincial government and, if so,
is this a function of the “quality” of decentralization?
Directly related to these questions is the extent to which the current round of
reforms takes advantage of, reinforces, or detracts from efficient service
delivery. What are the immediate and long-term implications of these reforms
on both efficiency and the quality of decentralization and democratic
governance? We will therefore examine the following hypotheses:
H1 The greater the level of decentralization within provinces, the
higher the level of efficiency in local service delivery.
>Decentralization ——————————> >efficiency
H2 Newly implemented policies designed to promote fiscal
responsibility will have a potentially very serious impact on the
“quality” of decentralization, governance and government
efficiency.
Our most critical variable in this analysis is the strength or degree of
decentralization (to the local level) within the provinces. We have developed a
set of systematic measures (proxy variables to be sure) to define a baseline for
the degree or quality of decentralization which exists within each of the
provinces. The year 1993 was selected as a base because most of the current
wave of provincial reforms in municipal and local government date from this
period and complete data are available. This will enable a comparison of the
impact of decentralization and allow us to assess the likely influence of recently
initiated or impending reforms. All of the data examined here were provided by
Statistics Canada (see Statistics Canada, 1995A-J) and the Bureau de la
Statistique du Québec, (see Bureau de la Statistique du Québec, 1995), various
provincial departments and local governments throughout Canada.
In order to measure the quality of decentralization, a composite index was
created using data on local and municipal government within their respective
domains. The four variables included in this measure were selected in order to
capture the most critical issues in decentralization: the autonomy, relative
importance and human resource capacity of local government.
First, presumably, the greater the control over its own resources, the greater the
autonomy and flexibility of the locale and hence the greater the level or
potential quality of decentralization. Thus, the first of our measures of
decentralization concerns the percentage of self-generated local government
revenue (Statistics Canada, 1995).
204
Second, we also need to determine the relative importance of local government,
vis à vis the provincial government, in providing essential services to the
population. We measure the relative importance of local government in terms
of the comparable levels of local and provincial spending, i.e., the ratio of local
to provincial spending. The higher the ratio, the greater the level of
decentralization and the more important the local level in the daily lives of the
citizens.
Third, the availability of personnel to implement policy is a critical component
of decentralization. In order to address both the importance and capabilities of
local government, we have included the ratio of local to provincial level
employees as a measure. Again, the higher the ratio, the more involvement in
service provision and the greater the level of decentralization.
Fourth, the number and ratio of local to provincial level employees is important
but it fails to address the critical issue of the quality and training of personnel
currently working and willing to work at the local level. Often, local
governments have difficulty recruiting and retaining top graduates and
attracting top experienced personnel from other government units or from the
private sector. Opportunities for advancement, training and a high quality of
life are often associated with employment in provincial or national capitals
rather than in the local governments. In order to determine the availability and
engagement of high-quality staff at the local level, we compare the average
salary of the local-level employees in each province with those of provinciallevel employees in their respective provinces. This gives a reasonable measure
of the competitiveness of local government in seeking top public employees
and the quality of those likely to be hired, while controlling for regional
differences in cost of living and related issues. The higher the quality of
personnel in local government, the greater the capacity of those governments to
successfully implement policy and innovate.
In order to construct a composite index, standardized scores (z scores) were
computed for each of the four variables in each of the ten provinces. These
scores were then summed for each province. By so doing, we created a
standardized measure of the quality of decentralization which can be analyzed
in conjunction with our efficiency measure. In addition, for simplicity, the
provinces were ranked on the composite index (see Table 1). The correlation
between the decentralization score and the decentralization rank is, as
expected, extremely high (r=.-95). Because of the greater variation and the fact
that it is a continuous rather than an ordinal variable, the standardized
composite measure was therefore selected for use here.
Our measure of government efficiency comprises six variables designed to
capture various aspects of that concept. Our aim is not to measure policy
effectiveness or overall local government effectiveness, although there may be
a correlation between these and efficiency as conceived here. Instead, we are
examining the relative operating costs (cost of doing business) of government
per unit of expenditure. As administrative operating costs decline, the total
costs per unit of output decrease and what we are calling “government
efficiency” increases. Presumably, the lower these costs of doing business, the
more efficient the government. We thus computed variables which reflect
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general services (GS) spending per capita and the percentage of the local level
budgets which go to GS administrative support or overhead spending.
We then factored in the ratio of general services (GS) spending at the local level
to GS spending at the provincial level. Education consumes an enormous
percentage of local taxes and is therefore very significant in addressing issues
of local government efficiency. For example, according to a recent report in the
Globe and Mail (1997), in 1996, Toronto spent 82 percent of its local revenue
on education while Edmonton spent only 40 percent. However, how it is
handled by the different provinces varies a great deal. For several of them,
education is a provincial rather than a local function, or education funds are
collected centrally and distributed locally on a per student basis. There has also
been some recent movement in various provinces in how this issue is handled.
New Brunswick is the latest example of a province altering this structure (all 18
regional school boards were abolished and authority transferred to local
parents’ associations). Quebec and Ontario are also in the process of
consolidating their school boards. Yet education constitutes a very significant
expenditure at some level in every province. Thus, we initially calculated this
ratio to exclude education spending in order to allow more appropriate
comparisons. We also did the calculations to include education spending. The
results in the two efficiency indexes were quite comparable (r=.95). We
therefore decided to include both spending measures in our overall efficiency
variable.
Finally we must consider the effects of expenditures on personnel as opposed to
operating funds. We evaluated salaries from two perspectives: as a percentage
of the budget and as a ratio of the percentage of the budget at the local level
allocated to salaries compared to the same figures at the provincial level. The
lower the ratio in both cases, the greater the budget allocated to programs and
services and the more “efficient” the local government system in the province.
Standardized “z” scores were calculated for each of these variables for the ten
provinces, and the results added to produce standard scores for efficiency
(ranks of the standardized total scores comparable to those used to measure the
quality of decentralization were also tried and found to be very highly
correlated (r=.87) with the standardized scores). The higher the score on the
standardized efficiency measure, the lower the government efficiency. The
ranks in Table 2 reflect this.
Findings and Discussion
The Quality of Decentralization
Before proceeding, we should again underscore that the quality of
decentralization in Canada, in relative terms, makes it one of the more
“decentralized” nations in the world. Of course, this clashes with the thinking
of most Quebeckers regardless of party, and some Westerners, especially
supporters of the Reform Party, that even greater decentralization to the
provinces is necessary (the Reform Party’s 20 point program addresses this
issue). The level of internal decentralization within the provinces, though
subject to considerable variation and not constitutionally mandated, is still
206
generally quite impressive. In six out of the ten provinces, at least half of local
government revenue is generated by “local” sources (the average for all ten
provinces is 49.9%). These figures range from a low of 22.2 percent in tiny
Prince Edward Island to highs of 64.5 and 58.8 percent respectively for
Newfoundland and Ontario. The ratio of local government spending to
provincial government spending averages 33 percent (range 11- 53%), also an
impressive figure in comparative terms (see Page, 1991).
Local governments employ, on average, better than three people for every five
provincial employees (mean=.64, range .09-1.30). This figure is about one to
one for Saskatchewan, and local government employment actually exceeds the
provincial figure in Ontario. Local government salaries also appear to have
kept pace with provincial salaries, the average salary ratio for the provinces
being .84 (range .65-.99), exceeding 90 percent in four provinces. Therefore,
local government employment is quite competitive with provincial in most
areas.4
These figures can best be understood in the larger context and comparatively.
For example, while Newfoundland leads among the provinces in the
percentage of local government revenue derived from its own sources (64.5%),
it places last in terms of the ratio of local to provincial government spending (a
ratio of 1 to 9). This same argument could be made for New Brunswick. Thus,
any one indicator may fail to capture the broader concept of the quality of
decentralization identified in the overall measure. By combining all four of
these variables into an overall index of decentralization, we obtain a general
comparative measure of the quality of decentralization within each of the
provinces.
On our overall index, the province of Ontario shows the highest level (quality if
you will) of decentralization, with Alberta a close second. Quebec, a distant
third, Manitoba and British Columbia follow. The second tier is led by
Saskatchewan and New Brunswick, followed by a distant Nova Scotia.
Newfoundland and Prince Edward Island, the two smallest provinces in terms
of population, are rated very low at 9th and 10th respectively on the
decentralization measure. Like Nova Scotia (8th), they have clearly opted for a
more provincially centralized strategy for managing local policy issues.
Further centralization is currently underway in both Nova Scotia and
Newfoundland.
207
IJCS / RIÉC
Table 1.
Measures of the Quality of Decentralization
%Local Govt. Local Govt.
Revenue from Spending/
Own Sources Provincial
Govt. Spend.
Newfoundland 64.5
.11
Prince Edward
Island
22.2
.19
Nova Scotia
39.5
.38
New
Brunswick
58.6
.12
Quebec
51.5
.37
Province
Local Govt.
Employees/
Provincial
Employees
.26
Avg. Local
Govt. Salary/
Avg. Prov.
Govt. Salary
.75
Decentralizatio
n Quality
Score* &
(rank)
-2.227 (9)
.09
.71
.92
.80
-3.787 (10)
-0.621 (8)
.16
.58
.99
.90
-0.434 (7)
0.876 (3)
Ontario
58.8
.53
1.30
.78
Manitoba
49.5
.38
.72
.81
Saskatchewan 57.4
.34
.95
.65
Alberta
55.8
.50
.85
.92
British
Columbia
41.5
.36
.74
.86
Mean
49.9
.33
.64
.84
* Summed standardized (z) scores of the four decentralization measures.
3.310 (1)
0.207 (4)
-0.378 (6)
3.010 (2)
0.043 (5)
An important consideration is whether a province can afford a well-developed
set of decentralized governments below that of the province. One approach to
these data is to suggest that the quality of decentralization depends on achieving
a threshold or a minimal level of wealth and economic development.
Otherwise, decentralization may not be a serious option for a region or province
(Cameron, 1994). The extent to which the provincial budget comes from its
own sources as opposed to federal government transfers may be useful in
examining this relationship. The correlation between the local decentralization
score and the percentage of provincial revenues from transfers is -.76 (p<.01).
This, however, does not imply a necessary connection between wealth and the
choice of provincial governments to centralize or decentralize. The shear size
and geographic variation among provinces may also have much to do with
levels of decentralization. The correlation between area and decentralization
quality is strong (r=.61). However, the importance of a threshold of wealth as an
enabler for local decentralization can not be ignored.
The case of the Maritimes may be instructive. Their relatively low level of
decentralization may be related to their corresponding relative lack of
economic development (some advances, particularly in New Brunswick, are
worth noting) and heavy dependence on the federal government for transfers to
support essential services, particularly social services, unemployment
benefits, etc. They have the highest number of federal government employees
per capita in their territories of any province in Canada and also derive the
highest percentage of their provincial budgets from federal government
transfers rather than their own sources. On average, these four provinces
208
receive nearly 40 percent (39.7%) of their revenue in transfers while the
average for the non-Maritime provinces is 19.4 percent.
Those provinces with the highest levels of decentralization (as of 1993, Ontario,
Alberta and Quebec), are also those undergoing the most radical restructuring.
The thrust of provincial reform in all three is toward consolidating municipalities
and local school boards and gaining greater provincial control over key
functions. This phenomenon is not limited to these three provinces, but also has
less dramatic manifestations in other provinces as well.
Local Government Efficiency
A calculation of the local government efficiency score produces a very
different ranking of provinces. Prince Edward Island and Nova Scotia, at the
bottom of the list on the decentralization scale, finish first and second
respectively in local government efficiency, far outdistancing the competition.
This may represent somewhat of an anomaly in that government services in
these provinces are centralized at the provincial level but targeted at modest
populations in relatively small territories. The need to decentralize services
because of regional or other local differences may be less apparent, and service
delivery costs for the few local services provided can be kept lower for the
locales.
Table 2.
Measures of Local Government Efficiency
Province
GS
Expend.
Local/GS
Expend.
Prov.
GS
Expend.
local-Ed./
GS
Expend.
Prov.
GS
Expend./
Cap (in $
Canadian)
%
Local
Budget
for GS
Salaries
as % of
Local
Budget
Newfoundland 2.88
14.35
97.75
14.35 21.2
Prince
Edward
Island
.38
8.00
28.08
2.20
7.2
Nova
Scotia
.74
5.73
74.29
3.47
14.7
New
Brunswick 1.60
7.80
59.73
7.80
27.8
Quebec
1.34
11.10
122.70
6.62
15.9
Ontario
.87
7.17
136.83
4.24
17.6
Manitoba 1.66
8.42
113.90
4.85
16.9
Saskatchewan
.89
9.77
127.43
5.70
18.2
Alberta
.91
6.80
147.56
4.58
17.7
British
Columbia 1.12
7.69
98.04
4.13
17.3
Mean
1.24
8.69
100.63
5.79
17.4
*Summed standardized (z) scores of the six efficiency measures.
% Budget
Salaries
Local/%
Bud. Sal.
Provincial
Govt.
Efficiency
Score* &
rank
1.77
8.441 (10)
0.43
-9.072 (1)
1.51
-3.089 (2)
1.32
1.43
1.89
1.54
1.257 (7)
1.486 (8)
0.332 (5)
0.555 (6)
1.81
1.56
1.514 (9)
-0.125 (4)
1.74
1.50
-0.580 (3)
0.064
209
IJCS / RIÉC
Ontario, Alberta and British Columbia, first, second and fifth respectively on
the decentralization scale, place fifth, fourth and third respectively in terms of
efficiency. All three are undergoing or have undergone serious restructuring in
the name of greater efficiency, despite the fact that all three were already
performing quite well in this regard compared to the other provinces. The
second tier is led by Manitoba, followed by New Brunswick.
Quebec and Saskatchewan do quite poorly in terms of efficiency (8th and 9th).
They do share a commonality in terms of the organization of local government.
Quebec has far more (over 1,400, the vast majority with populations of under
5,000) municipalities than any other province in Canada. Populist
Saskatchewan has the largest number of municipalities per capita in Canada.
Not surprisingly, one of the reforms now being pushed by the Romanov
government is municipal consolidation. The same is true in Quebec.
Newfoundland, with an extremely weak score on efficiency, takes last place. It
may serve as an example of the worst of both worlds, a large (geographically),
relatively poor, sparsely populated province which is heavily dependent on the
central government for transfers to fund many safety net services. Yet, the
dispersed nature of its population and large, remote land area forces it to deliver
its limited local services at relatively high administrative costs.
The Relationship Between Decentralization and Efficiency
The correlation between the quality of decentralization and the degree of
efficiency in the provinces is very weak and negative (r=-.22). This low
correlation would seem to indicate that, in times of budgetary crises,
decentralization to the local level is necessarily neither effective nor ineffective
as a strategy, but instead may depend on local contingencies.
However, when we exclude the two geographically smallest provinces (Nova
Scotia and Prince Edward Island), the correlation between efficiency and
decentralization quality for the other eight provinces jumps dramatically (r=.68). This would seem to indicate that decentralization enhances efficiency in
the larger (both geographically and population wise) and better endowed
provinces. There may be a threshold of size which must be reached before the
benefits of decentralization have an impact on efficiency. The threshold of
wealth may also be quite significant here.
When we examine the combination of decentralization and efficiency, our best
performing provinces are Ontario and Alberta, which score relatively high in
terms of both. Ontario and Alberta were clearly the leaders in maximizing the
values associated with decentralization while also doing better than most
provinces in terms of efficiency. British Columbia also seems to present a good
balance in this regard, ranking high in local government efficiency (third
overall but first among the larger provinces), while scoring in the middle range
(5th) on decentralization. It has opted for greater efficiency through a mixed
strategy without ignoring the value of decentralization in a number of
functional areas. For example, in the area of education, it has centralized
revenue collection and distribution while leaving several other functions to the
locales. Several other provinces, most notably Alberta and Ontario, have
210
recently followed the lead of B.C. in centralizing revenue collection and
distribution for education. It remains to be seen whether this will increase
overall local government efficiency.
The gap between efficiency and quality of decentralization is greatest in Prince
Edward Island and Nova Scotia which top the provinces in the efficiency of
local government, but place last in terms of decentralization quality. The
disparity is lowest in B.C. The gap is quite pronounced for Quebec and
Saskatchewan, but as noted above, this may relate to the relatively large
number of small municipalities in both and the salary structure for local
government in Quebec.
Conclusions
Four major themes seem to permeate the atmosphere of Canada’s cities in this
“age of neoliberalism”: 1) the need for greater efficiency and effectiveness in
local government; 2) the philosophy that less government equals “better”
government; 3) the issue of equity and the future of the social safety net; and 4)
the role of local government in democratic governance and participation.
Currently, all ten provinces are in the process of altering the way they do
business and deliver services (Lindquist and Sica, 1995). In-province
decentralization is at the core of these issues. A change in the mix of provincial
and local services and responsibilities is occurring on a fairly broad basis. The
first of these issues, efficiency and effectiveness, is based on a belief in overlap
and unnecessary duplication of effort between municipal and provincial
government and an unnecessarily large number of municipalities. The
arguments of the neoliberals demand economies of scale and a sorting out of
functions, the so-called “WDW” (“who does what”) issue.
However, changes in the quality of decentralization may modify the basic
quality of governance for better or worse. Ironically, past levels of efficiency in
the delivery of services are often ignored in favour of an ideological
commitment and a budget-cutting mentality. The two provinces which were
most successful in maximizing both sets of values, Alberta and Ontario, are the
ones being subjected to the most radical changes in policy under fiscally
conservative PC governments. As a result, opportunities for and habits of
participation may actually decrease.
The capacity of local government to address the problems of the future may be
severely compromised by current budget cuts which affect staff recruitment,
career plans and morale. Many CEOs in the private sector (especially in defense
related industries) argue that they must maintain some operations, even when
their products are not immediately needed, given the high start-up costs for
interrupted programs. The same logic may apply to government agencies.
Furthermore, spending cuts, declining transfer payments and increasing user
fees may diminish equity in the delivery of services, both at the provincial and
local levels. A careful monitoring of the effects of such changes is clearly called
for if Canada is to retain its preeminent position in the quality of its public
policy, social services and life in general.
211
IJCS / RIÉC
In this paper, the authors have attempted to provide a set of comparative
baseline measures of in-province decentralization and local government
efficiency. As shown, the provinces vary considerably on both of these
measures. The apparent link between decentralization quality and efficiency,
however, is modified by important contingencies such as thresholds of wealth
and size. The analysis presented in this paper is based primarily on crosssectional data. Clearly, longitudinal data are needed to assess the longer-term
prospects for decentralization and its relationship to government efficiency.
Since these remain integral to the objectives of all provinces, such data provide
a base for assessing the success of many of the new and on-going reforms.
Notes
1.
2.
3.
4.
See Page, 1991: 15. For example, total provincial spending actually exceeds Federal
Government spending (Statistics Canada, 1995). Even without federal transfers, the ratio of
provincial to federal spending is .82. Local to federal spending is also among the highest in
the world at 42.8% in 1993.
“Decentralization appeared to be one of the most frequently raised issues discussed by
participants in the regional commissions on the future of Quebec.”
“In the last few months the people of Quebec expressed their hopes and desires for a new way
of doing things based on greater responsibility for local and regional communities.”
In the case of Quebec, salaries of municipal employees are actually higher than those of
provincial level functionaries. This has resulted from the fact that the Provincial
Government has been able to cut salaries for its personnel but has not had the political will to
do so at the municipal level until recently. It is now forcing municipal governments to cut
labor costs by 6% by January 30, 1998.
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214
Joseph B. Glass
The Settlement of Prairie Jews in Palestine,
1917-1939*
Abstract
During the interwar years, over one hundred Jews from the Canadian
Prairies settled in Palestine. This reflected a general trend among North
American Jews who were excited by the prospect of the establishment of a
Jewish homeland in Palestine. For some Western Canadian Jews their
motivation was a desire to engage in agriculture in a Jewish milieu. They
established settlement organizations which proposed a number of projects in
Palestine. Their plans emulated conditions in Canada which were
inappropriate for the realities of land tenure and the physical characteristics
of Palestine. This case study illuminates upon the aspects of Jewish life on the
Prairies and the connection with the Land of Israel.
Résumé
Dans l’entre-deux-guerres, plus d’une centaine de Juifs des provinces des
Prairies se sont établis en Palestine. Ce mouvement s’inscrivait dans une
tendance généralement répandue parmi les Juifs nord-américains,
enthousiastes à la perspective de la création d’un Foyer national juif en
Palestine. Certains Juifs canadiens des Prairies étaient motivés par le désir
de s’adonner à l’agriculture dans un milieu juif. Dans ce but, ils ont mis sur
pied des organismes qui ont présenté plusieurs projets de colonisation en
Palestine. Ces plans témoignaient des conditions qui prévalaient au Canada
mais qui ne convenaient pas aux réalités du régime foncier et des
caractéristiques physiques de la Palestine. Cette étude de cas met en lumière
divers aspects de la vie juive dans les Prairies et du lien que ces communautés
entretenaient avec la Terre d’Israël.
During the interwar period, more than one hundred Jews from the Canadian
Prairie provinces—Manitoba, Saskatchewan and Alberta—immigrated to
Palestine. Although a relatively small number, it represented, five times the
Canadian and American immigration rates. Secondly, this region generated a
relatively large number of plans for Canadian Jewish settlement in Palestine.
This study discusses the motivation for immigration, and elaborates upon plans
for the settlement in Palestine of Jews from the Prairies, to further an
understanding of Jewish life in the Canadian West. It illuminates various
elements of the migrational process of Jews from the United States, Canada and
other parts of the British Empire to Palestine.
IJCS / RIÉC
Jewish Settlement on the Prairies and Migration to Palestine
Jewish settlement on the Canadian Prairies began in the 1880s and accelerated
after 1900. Greater emphasis was placed on agricultural settlement in this
region than in most other regions of the Americas. As early as 1874, proposals
for Jewish settlement there were put forward. The Young Men’s Hebrew and
Benevolent Society of Montreal suggested forming a colonization society and,
in 1882, the first Jewish colony was established near Moosomin,
Saskatchewan, nicknamed “New Jerusalem.” Up to the outbreak of World War
I, nine more colonies were established, while other Jews settled in scattered
groups or on individual farms.1 Canadian government policy generally
prevented any contiguous settlement by Jewish farmers.2 Many Jewish settlers
received assistance from the Jewish Colonization Association, the
Government of Canada and the Baron de Hirsch Institute of Montreal. Other
Jews established in the towns and cities of the Prairies: a vibrant Jewish
community developed in Winnipeg, growing from 1,156 in 1901 to 17,660 in
1931; and other communities prospered in the larger cities of Calgary,
Edmonton, Regina and Saskatoon. Jews were also found in smaller cities and
towns. A Calgary man described the difficulties of this wide spatial distribution
in 1914.
[...] the problem which confronts Western Canadian Jews, composed
as we are of small communities and scattered over a vast country.
Vancouver and Winnipeg are separated by some fifteen hundred
miles, with Calgary and Edmonton midway between and separated
from each other by one hundred and ninety miles. Around and
between these cities are to be found Jewish communities varying from
one to two hundred families and around and between these
communities, the Jewish farmer and his family. ... What are our coreligionists doing and how are they faring? Responding to our
gregarious instinct we are seeking the companionship of those bonds
of race and religion. We are seeking an outlet for our sympathy for
those who, like us, are wanderers on the face of the globe in the search
of political and social equality and justice, and in return seek the
sympathy of our kind in blood and creed.3
Following World War I, the Jewish population underwent certain changes.
There was a decline in the Jewish rural population. Crop failures, drops in
wheat prices and increased mechanization, together with various cultural
reasons, led some to migrate to the cities and others even to Palestine. [Table 1
and Figure 1] The shift toward industrial jobs, commercial enterprises and
white collar professions, particularly among Canadian-born Jews, triggered a
marked improvement in the economic status of the Jewish population.
In the cities, Jewish communities prospered, increasing in size through natural
growth, migration from rural areas and immigration from abroad through the
1920s. Great strides were made in developing communal institutions and
services. Synagogues, religious and secular Jewish schools, Jewish
newspapers and a wide variety of organizations and societies provided for
cultural needs. The Winnipeg community supported an orphanage, a medical
clinic and Old Folks’ Homes. When the Great Depression hit this region, the
foundations of strong, organized communities were already laid, and the
216
The Settlement of Prairie Jews in Palestine, 1917-1939
population was able to cope with increasing unemployment and other
economic difficulties.
Table 1.
Numerical and Percentage Distribution of Rural and Urban (over 10,000)
Jewish Population
Total population
Rural population
Urban population
Rural percent
Urban percent
Total population
Rural population
Urban population
Rural percent
Urban percent
Total population
Rural population
Urban population
Rural percent
Urban percent
1911
Manitoba
10,850
1,030
n/a
9.5
n/a
Saskatchewan
198
196
n/a
99.0
n/a
Alberta
1,505
560
n/a
37.2
n/a
1921
1931
16,669
1,288
14,766
7.2
90.4
19,341
1,088
17,487
5.6
88.5
2,092
1,006
1,578
48.1
29.8
5,116
1,082
1,797
22.2
35.1
3,242
559
2,176
17.2
67.1
3,722
306
2,884
8.2
77.5
Based on Louis Rosenberg, Canada’s Jews, A Social and Economic Study of the Jews in Canada
(Montreal: Canadian Jewish Congress, 1939), 23, 28.
Prior to World War I, despite the relative success of the Jewish communities in
the region, a number of individuals and some members of the Winnipeg
Achouza society (see below) considered immigrating to Palestine. In general,
the migration prior to the war fell within three categories—traditional, socialZionist and agricultural. The traditional motivation of Torah study and dying in
the Holy Land was probably strongest in Winnipeg’s Jewish community,
which had a higher proportion of Orthodox Jews than the rest of the region.4
The socialist-Zionist, almost synonymous with the Poale Zion organization,
was virtually non-existent in the Prairies; if it was to be found, the diverse
Jewish community of Winnipeg was the location. The third motivation—to
become a farmer, like those in the moshavot (sing. moshavah, Hebrew: private
hold colonies) in Palestine—appears to have been the leading factor. Having
gained some agricultural experience, these individuals sought a more Jewish
milieu, and many longed to live in the Holy Land. These potential farmers came
mainly from the rural environment. Toward the end of World War I and
afterwards, conditions were changing both in the Prairies and in Palestine,
resulting in an increased migrational flow.
217
IJCS / RIÉC
Figure 1.
The Spatial Distribution of Jews in the Prairie Provinces, 1931
The migrational movement was influenced by diverse factors, some of which
attracted people toward Palestine, while others pushed for emigration from the
Canadian Prairies. Researchers Antonovsky and Katz defined and categorized
the attraction of Palestine among Canadian and American Jews into four
groups—Zionism, Jewishness, attraction to Palestine and religious reasons.
While this division was sufficient for their study, these generalized motivations
were later expanded upon. Other reasons for migration included a desire to
“return to the soil,” and economic opportunity, which heavily influenced Jews
from the Prairies.5
The motivations “pushing” Jews to emigrate from the Prairies were defined and
categorized by Antonovsky and Katz into five groups—a lack of independent
decision-making, dissatisfaction with America, a desire to go to Palestine for a
trial period, for the sake of children, and any number of idiosyncratic reasons.
Two additional factors contributing to the dissatisfaction with Prairie life were
a sense of alienation and isolation.6
The discussion of Prairie Jewish migration is divided into three periods: World
War I, 1919-1928 and 1929-1939. Not all the factors prompting migration to
218
Palestine can be seen as periodic or connected to changes in the local social and
economic climate. The motif of living one’s last years in the Holy Land, for
example, transcended the period of this study. The Cohens were so motivated.
Born in Lithuania, David Cohen migrated to England, South Africa, and then to
Canada in 1905. He resided in Vancouver and Edmonton, and travelled through
northern Alberta and British Columbia as a salesman. In 1933, he sold his
business, and he and his wife departed for Palestine to spend their last days in
Jerusalem. Louis Belinkoff of Winnipeg made aliyah for religious reasons: not
wanting to work on the Sabbath, he decided that Palestine was the only
alternative.7
The Boroditsky family gave a number of reasons for its immigration. Avraham
Yisrael and Fruma arrived in Canada in 1910 and settled in Winnipeg. Their
household was strongly Zionist. Due to certain eye problems, Avraham needed
to move to a warmer climate. Two viable options were California and Palestine.
They moved to Tel Aviv in the 1930s, their Zionist sentiments serving as the
directional impetus.8
World War I and the Jewish Legion
Certain voices in the Prairies called for immigration to Palestine. Speaking
before a Calgary audience in 1918, Nachman Syrkin, a prominent Poale Zion
ideologist, said, “[h]e expected a great immigration will take place from
America after the war and Jews from all parts of the world will turn their eyes
towards the Holy Land.”9 This followed the general excitement sensed by
Western Canadian Jewry and Jews worldwide, after the Balfour Declaration
(November 2, 1917), General Allenby’s entry into Jerusalem (December 11,
1917), and the ongoing conquest of Palestine by British and Allied forces.
A group of prospective Jewish settlers left the Prairies for Palestine as members
of the British Army’s Jewish Legion, inspired by prospects of liberating the
new homeland from four hundred years of Ottoman rule. Canadian Jews, not
subject to conscription in Canada, were permitted to join. Zionist leaders
Pinhas Rutenberg, Izhak Ben-Zvi and David Ben-Gurion toured the continent
recruiting volunteers. The latter two reached Winnipeg and rallied Jews to sign
up. The concessions offered—recruits would be placed in a separate unit;
Hebrew was to be the language of command; Jewish symbols would be used in
Legion’s insignia; and duty would be on the Palestinian front—also
contributed to the fervour to enlist.10 Jewish enthusiasm for the the Legion was
similar to that of other immigrant groups who rushed to defend their homelands
in times of peril. Poles in the United States and Canada, for example, joined the
Polish army under General Joseph Haller.11
In Winnipeg, a committee was appointed to formulate plans for a western
Canadian branch of the Jewish Legion. Two local attorneys made
arrangements with local military authorities and in March 1918 the doors of the
recruiting office opened. To draw the attention of the Jewish community and
non-Jews, they orchestrated a parade through Winnipeg’s streets followed by a
mass meeting at Queen’s Theatre. Led by the first recruits, it was followed by
“enthusiastic thousands.” A local religious leader, Rabbi Herbert J. Samuel
volunteered, inspiring others to follow suit.12 By the end of April, sixty-three
219
IJCS / RIÉC
Prairie Jews had begun basic training at a Winnipeg military base. From May
until August 1918, the recruits were transported to Windsor, Nova Scotia for
continued training before being shipped overseas.
No official information has been obtained as to the exact number of Canadian
volunteers or Prairie volunteers. Researcher Zachariah Kay pointed out the
discrepancies in figures for Canada, listing three sources: the Canadian Deputy
Minister of Militia and Defence reported 42 Jewish volunteers; Belkin in his
history of the Labour Zionist Movement estimated 350 to 400 Canadians in the
Jewish Legion with an additional 150 to 200 transfers by Jewish soldiers from
the Canadian forces; and Jabotinsky referred to 300. Rosenberg estimated that a
minimum of 4,695 Jews from the Canadian Expeditionary Forces, 400
unnaturalized Jewish residents of Canada, and Jews below the age of
conscription served in the Jewish Legion. Former Winnipeg Jewish
Legionnaire Hyman Sokolov, in his history of the unit, enumerated
approximately 300 volunteers from Canada, including one hundred from
Winnipeg and the West. This would have represented a disproportionate
number of Western Canadian Jews. In 1921, 21.4 percent of Canada’s Jewish
population resided west of Ontario.13 The Legion’s popularity may also have
expressed Jewish support for the political climate in the West. In the December
17, 1917 election, the Union Government and its policy to enforce conscription
won overwhelming support.14
David Ben-Gurion clearly regarded the enlistment and service of North
American Jews not simply as a contribution to the liberation of Palestine, but as
an immigration movement:
The largest aliya to come in the wake of the Balfour Declaration was in
fact, that of the Jewish Legion from the United States which numbered
more than 4,000 men. Not all of these Americans remained in Israel
after the war, partly because of the apathetic attitude of the Zionist
Executive, concentrated then on the Zionist Commission which went
to Israel in 1918. The commission did not offer any assistance to the
American volunteers who wished to remain in the Land of Israel.15
Ben-Gurion’s interpretation expressed a deep disappointment that proper
provisions had not been made to demobilize American Jews in Palestine. Other
factors influenced this process, such as the British government’s negative
attitude and disillusionment among the North Americans. At first, explained
Gershon Agronsky (Agron), an American Jewish Legionnaire and later, the
editor of the Palestine Post:
the Jew who came from America was eager, fresh with the blush of
idealism. Whoever the American was, whether fresh from University
or from the sweat-shop, there had been inculcated in him during the
weeks before his enlistment the spirit of sacrifice, of selflessness and
love for a country he had not seen. ... Some of them did not even retain
it as long as the trans-Atlantic voyage, while others gave up their
enthusiasm once faced with the realities of military training and life.16
The litmus test for North American soldiers intent on settling in Palestine came
in October 1918. Before disbanding, the battalions were asked to complete
questionnaires about their intention to remain in Palestine. Between 400 and
220
450 North Americans wished to remain, but questions surrounded the process
of demobilization and the possibility of remaining in Palestine. Adequate
provisions were not made.17
After returning from Palestine, Pascal Brodie, of Lipton, Saskatchewan,
described the atmosphere in Winnipeg to a fellow Canadian soldier:
Here in Canada, groups of Jews are ready to go over any day, in fact a
great number of them have ceased to make whatever sort of
transactions so as to be free when the moment strikes—mostly with
the idea of settlement. ... Ever since my return, my mouth has not been
closed, explaining and answering all sorts of questions. ... There is one
question which they cannot comprehend and that is “why have we
returned—and why do we say so little about the Zionist
Organizations” and they want to know “why” didn’t they colonize the
Legionnaires on the [Jewish] National Funds lands. Such as the
[American] Zionist Commonwealth and others. Well, what can we
tell them—when we don’t know the reason why ourselves, do we?18
No Prairie legionnaire has been identified as having remained in Palestine after
demobilization, although at least one filled out a Zionist Commission for
Palestine questionnaire for demobilization.19 [Plate 1] None of their names
reappear in lists of members of settlement groups nor of individuals who
applied for visas to Palestine.
The Post-War Years
The Jewish Legion episode dampened the enthusiasm of certain Prairie Jews
for immigration. The failed attempts shook the convictions of some, while
others remained determined to emigrate. While Palestine was under British
Military Administration, it was unclear how Canadian Jews could receive
permission to immigrate there. Ber Friedman of Winnipeg was called upon to
wait in 1919. He had sold his farm and possessions in anticipation of
immigrating and complained bitterly. The Zionist Organization of Canada
turned to the Zionist Organization of America for advice and assistance in
solving this problem, which threatened its prestige. No adequate response was
received.20 Friedman eventually settled in Palestine in 1921 (see below).
Despite these obstacles, Western Canadian Jewish farmers renewed their
efforts to take up residence in Palestine. Two factors weighed heavily.
Economic difficulties in the Prairies were a pushing force. At the same time, the
fervour and excitement surrounding the Balfour Declaration, the conquest of
Palestine by the British and the appointment of a Jew—Sir Herbert Samuel—as
High Commissioner for Palestine in 1920 all served as attracting forces. The
Zionist Organization of America’s May 1920 “Statistical Report on Applicants
and Registrants for Immigration to Palestine from America” listed 264 of its
1,365 agricultural applicants as originating in Canada, but did not specify their
residence by province. The majority were probably from the Prairies, since
69.1 percent of the Jewish population engaged in some branch of agriculture
resided in the Prairies in 1931. A few have been identified.21
The years following the war saw drought, crop failures, hailstorms and low
grain prices in the Prairies. In this period of hardship, some Jewish farmers
221
IJCS / RIÉC
Plate 1.
Demobilization Questionnaire. Source: CZA L3/25IV
222
received loans from the Jewish Colonization Association which allowed them
to continue farming. Others abandoned their holdings. Bennett, in his study of
family and the enterprise cycle of homestead farmers in southwestern
Saskatchewan pointed to an abandonment rate of 62 percent for the years 19101930.22 Palestine was seen as an alternative for those who wanted to continue
farming in another location that also provided a Jewish milieu. For example,
Russian Jewish immigrants Yaakov and Yaffa (Sheindl) Polk went to a Jewish
Colonization Association settlement in Saskatchewan in 1921 where they
gained agricultural experience but were unable to make a living. The couple left
the Prairies in 1925 to go to Alabama. Yaakov entered into commerce and by
1929 had amassed sufficient capital to invest in land in Palestine. He selected
land in the American Zion Commonwealth colony of Herzlia, where he moved
in 1931, and took up citriculture.23
Relocating in Palestine was no simple task. Beyond the problems of receiving a
passport and visa, one needed to amass sufficient capital and make various
arrangements to live there. For a “capitalist certificate,” immigration regulations
required the possession of £500; by 1925 this figure was increased to £1,000.24
Herschel Lyons began planning and saving to go to Palestine in 1928 but only
set out for his destination in 1935. His decision was guarded. His daughter
explained, “it was their intention to remain there, but they did not wish to
commit themselves to this decision until they had given the country a trial.”25
Four Jews from Saskatoon and the vicinity intended on leaving for Palestine
around 1919 or 1920. Filled with the fervour of the period, they often gathered
to discuss the up-building of the Jewish homeland and their prospective lives
there. It is not known whether they formally applied for immigration, but they
did not immigrate at the time. One member of the group had his plans thwarted
by his fiancee’s objections—she was uncertain what they would do when they
reached Palestine—and wished to remain close to her family. Another member
of the group remained in Canada and operated a general store at Lanigan,
Saskatchewan. The other two immigrated later and were among the founders of
the settlement of Gan Hasharon (see below).26
1929, the Year of the Riots and the Great Depression
A turning point came in 1929. Reaction to the attacks on Jews in Palestine
called for a change in British policy and the immigration of halutzim (sing.
halutz, Hebrew: pioneer). For example, the resolution passed at a mass meeting
of Jewish citizens in Winnipeg urged them “to devote themselves with renewed
energy and unlimited sacrifice for the formation of a new army of Chalutzim for
the immediate and peaceful rebuilding of a Jewish homeland in Palestine.”
Likewise, Jews in Saskatoon demanded Canadian government support for “a
more vigourous immigration policy that will allow for a greater number of Jews
to enter into Palestine.”27
The 1930s saw the introduction of additional motivations for migration—
educational and occupational opportunities and halutziut (Hebrew:
pioneering). Palestine offered certain educational opportunities, both religious
and secular. Individuals from all over the world were drawn to institutions such
as the Hebrew University of Jerusalem, the Haifa Technion and the American
223
IJCS / RIÉC
Figure 2.
Locational Map of Palestine 1939
224
School of Oriental Research at Jerusalem. Solomon Hestrin of Winnipeg, for
example, relocated to Palestine on a university guaranteed immigration
certificate. With a Bachelor of Arts in hand from the University of Manitoba, he
studied in the Division of Biological Studies at the Hebrew University of
Jerusalem. After receiving his Bachelor of Science in 1936, he continued as a
research student in bacteriology.28
In another example, while in his teens, Jack (Yaakov) Lifshitz was sent to study
at the Mikveh Israel agricultural school in the early 1930s. Jack spearheaded his
family’s desire to settle in Palestine. His brother joined him. His mother, an
ardent Zionist, hoped to follow her sons but was prevented by the outbreak of
World War II. In the end, Jack choose not to work in agriculture, but joined the
Palestinian police force.29
Intent on migration and settlement in Palestine were the supporters of socialist
Zionism. Their number increased in response to the Great Depression, when
socialism, particularly its Zionist strain, was perceived as an answer to the
failures of the capitalist system. Molly Lyons drew a connection between the
return to the soil and salvation. In her opinion, the nexus of the two could only
be found in Palestine along the ideological lines of Aaron David Gordon:
In Palestine, a philosophy was being taught by an old man with a long
white beard who tilled the fields. He, too, loved the soil, but he also
worshipped the working of it, and students were flocking to him from
all over the world and finding their faith and their purposefulness in
life through tilling and creating in Erez Israel. Canada had broad
lands, rich soil, and yet for me it could bring comfort in no more than
what the eye beheld. I would have to go to the small land, the poor soil,
and find there my social salvation, because only there could the Jew be
an ordinary mortal, touched by God and becoming an instrument of
creation at the same time.30
In the early 1930s, a number of Prairie Jews applied for halutz certificates to
enter Palestine. Not all intended to join pioneer settlements, but it appears that
at least some did. Sonny Lyons (later Arieli) of Tisdale, Saskatchewan joined a
kibbutz. From the age of fourteen he had wanted to be a halutz. In the early
1920s he became a member of Kibbutz Givat Hashlosha near Petah Tikvah. By
1936 he had abandoned this lifestyle: “Sonny had been a halutz for years, until
his marriage. He had lived in a tent, fed on lentils and radishes so that there
would be money for a plough.”31
Following the 1929 stock market crash, high unemployment in Canada also
effected the Jewish population, particularly its younger members. In addition,
young professionally-educated Prairie Jews encountered growing difficulties
in obtaining employment due to discrimination. Palestine, however, underwent
a period of growth in the 1930s and offered a variety of opportunities. Having
completed his legal studies, Max David Friedman of Saskatoon was hindered
from finding a position in Canada because he was Jew. Thus, Palestine offered
him an alternative. Abraham Cohen of Brooksby, Saskatchewan found
employment with the Palestine Electric Company at its generating station at
Naharaim.32
225
IJCS / RIÉC
By 1939, immigration from the Prairies had completely tapered off. The Arab
Revolt (1936-1939) dampened the desire to emigrate from North America. In
addition, the Jewish Agency allocated most of the limited number of
immigration certificates to Jews from Central and Eastern Europe.
The motivation for Prairie Jews to migrate to Palestine can be categorized into
four basic groups: economic, social, geographic and ideological. Ideological
reasons—Zionism, Zionist calling, Judaism, return to the soil, and the pioneer
spirit—mitigated in favour of Palestine as the destination for migration, yet
ideology alone could not move people to migrate. Other factors entered the
decision-making process. There were geographical considerations, especially
the peripheral location and sense of alienation resulting from the distance from
centres of Jewish life. Social factors were antisemitism, fear of assimilation,
and dissatisfaction, both on a personal level and with North America society
generally. Economic factors related to the Great Depression and the lack of jobs
available in certain professions.
Part of the Prairie Jewish migration, a rural-to-rural migration, reflected a
greater interest in agriculture in Palestine. However, not all Prairie Jews
envisioned a rural setting for their new place of residence in Palestine. Some
moved to the cities, and a few lived in urban centres but also owned rural homes
which they used on weekends.
Settlement: Plans and Realization
Before World War I Prairie Jews individually and as groups made plans to settle
in Palestine. One of the earliest known documents dates back to 1911, an
inquiry from a Quinton, Saskatchewan resident, who asked detailed questions
about agricultural prospects in Palestine. He addressed his query to Arthur
Ruppin, head of the Palestine Office in Jaffa and the Palestine Land
Development Company. Ruppin had three years’ experience in Palestine and
was knowledgeable regarding land acquisition and agricultural endeavours. He
had published a booklet on the achouza plan (see below) in German, later made
available in Yiddish and English as well. The writer was probably a rural
merchant with no inkling of the geography of Palestine, specifically its climate,
soil and common crops. The nature of his questions shows that he wrongly
conceived Palestine to be similar to the Prairies. This false conception repeated
itself in the plans of other prospective settlers.33
The first known attempt at establishing a Canadian colony began in 1909.
Federation of Canadian Zionist Societies president, Clarence De Sola, in his
1909 presidential message,
spoke of the progress made in Canada for ten years that had elapsed,
and mentioned the very energetic work and zeal proven by the few
pioneers of Zionism in Canada, who had valiantly struggled to keep
the Organization alive in spite of the attacks and indifference they
met, and appealed to Canadian Zionists to create a Canadian Colony
in Palestine for which money should be raised in an adequate
measure.34
226
This led to the creation of the “Land Fund.” The following year, three
prominent international Zionists, David Wolfsohn, Dr. Max Bodenheimer and
Franz Oppenheimer were consulted about the project, and they proved to be
quite enthusiastic. By the time of the July 1912 convention in Ottawa, the fund
had over C$5,000 paid up. The Land Fund represented the second stage of
Canadian Zionism. The first stage had seen the expansion of Zionist societies
throughout the Dominion, and the second stage involved practical work. The
project inspired others to pledge funds for the purchase of land, on the condition
that they received clear title. A Winnipeg man voiced the intention of twelve
men from that city to each invest C$3,000 or altogether C$36,000 for land in
Palestine if guaranteed title. Altogether C$56,700 was pledged for this
project.35
By December 1913, land at Kastina in the Shefela (Judaean foothills) had been
purchased for the Canadian federation. Canadian Zionists suggested naming
the colony in honour of Clarence De Sola, but he himself preferred the name
Canadia, declining any personal glory. The land was to be given to Russian
Jews, with preference for Canadian Jews if they applied. This moshavah had
been deserted by its former settlers. Through the Palestine Office, 775 dunams
were purchased from the original owners and given by the Federation of
Canadian Zionist Societies to the Jewish National Fund. Two groups were
settled on this land: eight halutzim who had trained at the Hulda farm, and a
number of immigrant families from Russia.36 Although Canadian Jews could
have opted to live there, none actually settled at Kastina at the time, nor was it
renamed Canadia.
In 1911, the Regina Leader reported that “The Canadian Federation
contemplates purchasing shortly ten thousand acres of land in Palestine to be
known as the King Edward Colony, his late majesty having been much in
sympathy with the movement.”37 This may be referring to the “Land Fund”
project or possibly relating to certain rumours in Zionist circles in the Regina
area.
The Winnipeg Achouza
The first organized attempt at settlement by Prairie Jews in Palestine was the
Winnipeg Achouza. Founded in 1912, it was one of seventeen such groups in
the United States and Canada before World War I. Achouzot (sing. achouza,
Hebrew: estate) were organized with the purpose of buying a large tract of land
in Palestine for agricultural settlement. The principles were: 1) a gradual
process, allowing for eventual separation from the home community; 2) land
purchase and development on an installment basis; 3) the land could be
collectively prepared, lowering the per unit price of development and; 4) upon
settlement, the new inhabitants would be familiar with each other. The
minimum investment per family was seven shares at $200 each paid over ten
years and entitling the settler to seventy dunams of land, sixty-four planted with
olive and almond plantations, and six for the house and garden. After the land
had been prepared and the plantations reached fruit-bearing age, the achouza
member could be expected to immigrate and settle on the land.38
227
IJCS / RIÉC
This idea appears to have been transported from the United States. In 1912,
educator and orator S. Frankel arrived from New York City to join the
Winnipeg Talmud Torah teaching staff. Depicted as an intense Zionist, he
proposed that Winnipeg residents purchase land in Palestine cooperatively
with the aim of permanently settling in line with the achouza scheme. As of
December 1912, the society had thirty-five members increasing to fifty a month
later. It was believed that “if it were possible for some institution in our land to
help us possess the land immediately, we should increase our membership to
75, or maybe even 100.”39
The cardinal issue was the location of the new settlement: the proposed site was
Karkur near Hadera. Achouza representative A. Harris, made it clear that this
site and many others suggested would not satisfy the needs of the constituents.
He explained “the wish of the Winnipeg Achouza is that their settlement be in
the region of a big city like Jaffa, where there will be established schools for
their children and markets for their products.”40 The Palestine Land
Development Company, the agent for such transactions, proposed two
alternate tracts, Sheikh Muneis (the present site of Tel Aviv University) and
Ard-el-Chai, near Kfar Saba. The former, closer to Jaffa, was preferred by the
membership in Winnipeg. [Figure 3]
This locational preference reflected their Prairie experience. This group
wanted to relieve the sense of alienation associated with agricultural
settlements in the Canadian west—distant from each other and from urban
centres. This factor played heavily upon the impressions of Jewish farmers in
the Prairies and visitors to the colonies alike. One homesteader described the
southern grasslands of Saskatchewan as, “flat and bald ... like being in the
middle of the ocean. The only interruptions in this desolate landscape were the
homestead shacks sticking up here and there (in the snow).”41 Jewish
communal services were important to these settlers. They did not want to
encounter the same failures that they had either experienced or observed. Many
Jewish colonies had not reached the population mass required to support Jewish
community services. An appropriate model for settlement was found in the
vicinity of Winnipeg, where Jews lived in small farming communities within
commuting distance. Basic Jewish community services were available while
others could easily be obtained in the urban centre.42
Due to World War I, the transaction in Palestine was at first delayed and then
cancelled over differences with the land purchasing agent and Zionist
institutions. This also reflected a lack of enthusiasm—ten years of activity had
borne no fruit. From information correlated to date, no Winnipeg Achouza
members were associated with other settlement groups. Only two of the
achouza members are known to have actually made aliya. Oddly, one was from
Yarmouth, Nova Scotia rather than the Prairies.43
228
Figure 3.
Winnipeg Achouza
Legend
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.
10.
Jaffa
Tel Aviv
Mikveh Israel Agricultural School
Montefiore Gardens
Salame (Arab village)
Sheikh Muneis lands – Winnipeg Achouza
Abu Kishk (Arab village)
Kfar Saba (Jewish colony)
Petah Tikvah (Jewish colony)
Bahariya (Arab village)
A.
B.
C.
D.
E.
F.
Mediterranean Sea
Yarkon River
Road from Jaffa to Petah Tikvah
Road to Nablus
Railroad from Jaffa to Jerusalem
Road from Jaffa to the Judean colonies
229
IJCS / RIÉC
“HaIkar”—The Zionist Farming Association
Following the Balfour Declaration a group of Jewish Prairie farmers founded
“The Zionist Farming Association” in Winnipeg, known by its Hebrew name,
“HaIkar” (the farmer). Membership was reported between fifty to fifty-five.44
HaIkar representative Asher Cucuy (see below) spent three months in Palestine
in the summer of 1919 to locate suitable tracts. The group had a preconceived
notion of the type and size of the settlement they wanted to develop,
anticipating that fifty farming families with C$500,000 would form a
cooperative settlement based on mixed farming including a dairy with
pasteurizing machinery. Needed were 100 acres (400 dunams) for each of the
200 settlers—men, women and children. In all, the plan proposed an area of
80,000 dunams, an enormous tract in Palestinian terms. Jewish settlements
averaged 7,003 dunams in 1927. The grandiose plan included an agricultural
college and a garden village for workers. Cucuy requested that the Zionist
Commission for Palestine sell the association land and buildings with longterm repayment. He further explained that the association’s members had
agricultural experience and had operated all types of farm machinery,
including the most modern which they would bring with them. The scheme
failed simply because Zionist institutions did not have this amount of land
available.45
Cucuy became more acquainted with conditions in Palestine. He was joined by
another HaIkar member, Aron Schnitka of Calgary, and together they
formulated a second plan. It was more focused than the first in that it targeted a
specific location—Ghor Al-Fari‘a, the Jiftlik lands in the Jordan Valley. It was
proposed that a cooperative society of 275 families (1,000 persons) from the
United States and Canada would settle 90,000 dunams. The Jordan River would
be used for producing electricity and irrigation.46 The plan was endorsed by the
Zionist Organization of America and the Zionist Commission for Palestine,
and Chaim Weizmann facilitated matters by telegraphing the High
Commissioner for Palestine, Sir Herbert Samuel, requesting, “[k]indly write
British authorities Canada should facilitate Cucuy party of farmers to go to
Palestine.” The reply stated that the Canadian Government had been asked to
furnish the party with visas for Palestine under certain conditions.47 However,
this land was not available for settlement.
A third scheme propounded the development of a garden city for 1,000 families
or 5,000 persons. Each shareholder would receive 100 dunams including 10
dunams in the city of the 100,000-dunam settlement. The economy would be
based on mixed farming, together with related trades, services and industries.
Sir Wyndham Deedes, Government of Palestine Civil Secretary, assured
Cucuy a concession for one-tenth the area in the Beit Shaan Valley, once it was
demarcated. It never came to be; British policy preferred settling Arab
sharecroppers on the land.48
In the end only two members of HaIkar settled in Palestine—S. Rosoff and
Asher Cucuy. Rosoff rented and worked land at Hadera but only for two and a
half years.49 Asher Cucuy, born in Russia in 1872, had emigrated to Canada in
1902 and gained farming experience in Oliver, Saskatchewan and other
230
sections of the Prairies. Each year from May until November, Cucuy and his
four older offspring tilled, ploughed, disced, harrowed and prepared land for
sowing for the government. The older children attended agricultural college. In
the winter of 1918-19, the sons took a course in mechanical training and the
daughter studied home economics.50 [Plate 2]
Plate 2.
Plowing in the Jezreel Valley with a Holt tractor, 1926 (first from the left,
Asher Cucuy).
In 1914, Cucuy intended to immigrate to Palestine, but the outbreak of war
thwarted his plans. During his 1919 visit to Palestine, his expertise in grain
farming and tractor use proved valuable to the American Zion Commonwealth
at its first colony, Balfouria. During the following years, he and his sons plowed
lands in various part of Palestine.51
In 1923, he entered into an agreement with the High Commissioner acting as
lessor of Government Land. Cucuy leased a 1,1661/2-dunam plot, El Rakayik,
in the Acre sub-district for a period of ninety-nine years. The agronomist’s
report detailed that the tract had heavy soil, which held water until March-April
but dried and cracked by summer, with potential for cereal cultivation.
Neighbouring tracts produced mediocre yields of durra and wheat. Cucuy
planned to plow and plant 500 dunams in 1923-24. The remaining land would
produce hay and come under cereal cultivation by 1927-28. The farm would
also support twenty-five head of dairy and beef cattle. The estimated cost of this
project was £E535.52 [Figure 4]
Cucuy was relentless in his efforts to establish a settlement for Canadian Jews.
In 1923, he again turned to Chaim Weizmann for assistance. Cucuy had second
thoughts regarding the location of the proposed Canadian colony, and
suggested a more centrally located tract—45,000 dunams of Government Land
in Haifa Bay adjacent to Cucuy’s concession.53
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IJCS / RIÉC
Figue 4.
Er-Rakaiyik
American Zionist, Jacob DeHaas was in Palestine in 1924-25, and traveled to
Acre in search of Asher Cucuy.
I found first, a newly settled Bulgarian Jewish family in a big dirty
Arab house; next door Mrs. Cucuy, in a smaller house, but cleaner, no
furniture to speak of, preparing two tiny chickens for the Sabbath. She
had a tale of misery to tell. Her husband had been in prison for debt, the
government had taken his hay. He was in the fields. So we rode across
the broken land to a tin shack. There stood Cucuy, a gnarled blackened
weathered specimen of humanity, with his youngest son a picture of
beauty, with a donkey on which they were trying to load a bag of grain.
Within a few hundred feet some Bedouins were camped. I took Cucuy
aside. His first answer was, I am going to stick it out. ... Eventually he
broke down and told me a miserable story, too long to write out, but
reflecting on the methods prevailing here. He did not know whom but
232
I think W. [possibly Chaim Weizmann] paid the £36 debt that put him
in prison. What could aid him quickest? We decided that three cows
stalled in his stable would start things. So the experiment fund has
three cows.54
In November, Asher Cucuy was imprisoned a second time for debt. Through
the assistance of Col. Frederick Kisch, executive director of the Palestine
Zionist Executive, Cucuy was released. It was feared that the Government of
Palestine would revoke Cucuy’s lease. The Government Land Department
agreed to transfer Cucuy’s concession to the Palestine Zionist Executive. Kisch
suggested that some agreement should be reached with Cucuy, but Cucuy
found a way to retain the land, which remained in his family until 1974. The
family moved to Kiryat Motzkin in 1936 due to the riots.55
Other Settlement Projects
The colony of Ramat Gan was founded by the Ir Ganim (Garden City)
Organization in 1921. Each of nine Canadians were allotted 15-dunam tracts.
They aspired to engage in agriculture and brought equipment from Canada. In
an attempt to dry the malarial swamps, they planted eucalyptus trees along the
wadi. By 1922, there were fifteen structures constructed of brick and wood.56
Information has been found about only one family, the Friedmans of Pine
Ridge, Manitoba. Ber (Dov) Friedman had no previous agricultural experience,
but showed an interest and subscribed to a Yiddish farmers’ journal. He had
joined the Winnipeg Achouza society. In 1921, he, his wife and daughter settled
in Palestine. They resided near Petah Tikvah. With the outbreak of the riots that
year, they fled into town for protection and then moved to Jaffa. There
Friedman joined the founding group of Ramat Gan. With only a plow and a
mule, Friedman raised vegetables and planted fruit trees. In the end, the
Friedmans left Palestine: first the daughter fled an arranged marriage, only to be
followed by her parents.57 In 1932, Ber’s son, Jacob and his family took his
father’s place in Palestine, settling on the family property at Ramat Gan.58
Two Winnipeg entrepreneurs took a different tack. They purchased a tract to be
developed, parcelled and resold to other Canadians. It is unclear how strongly
profit-motivated they were. In 1928, plans were publicized for a Canadian
colony near Petah Tikvah. Norman Schiffer and Jacob Halpern invested in
1,032 dunams of the Abu Kishk tract, secured through the Palestine Land
Development Company. Schiffer elaborated upon the advantages for those
with between C$50-100,000 to invest in Palestine. For those with less, he
suggested that they acquire land through a developer. He and Halpern intended
to expand their holdings to 4,000 dunams available for colonization. These
would be ameliorated through planting 500 dunams of orange groves, 100
dunams of banana plantations, and the rest, vegetables and pasture. The colony
was to be named Givat Arba (the Hill of the Four) to honour four heroic young
Jews who had lost their lives in the 1921 riots, probably to play on the emotions
of potential purchasers. Schiffer announced he would be visiting the cities of
Saskatoon, Edmonton, Calgary, and Regina to sell land.59
In December 1927, Shiffer cooperated with a group of urban tradesmen who
had also bought land at Abu Kishk to form the colony of Kfar Hadar. The group
233
IJCS / RIÉC
owned 325 dunams and Shiffer provided them with an additional 129 dunams.
He retained some 800 dunams independently of the group. The group of
tradesmen entered this agreement to create an economy of scale for an
irrigation project.60
Shiffer left development of the project to a manager and workmen. He assured
the labourers a relatively high wage and 10 dunams each if they settled
permanently, but the project floundered. In 1931, local banks foreclosed and
took over most of the land. He retained only 380 dunams which were planted
with orange groves.61
The only successful project was developed by a group of Saskatchewan Jews.
They organized the Gan Hasharon Corporation Limited with an investment of
C$100,000 for land purchase and development. Max Aidelman, the first to
arrive, contacted Norman Schiffer who introduced Aidelman to local
intermediaries Moshe Smilansky, the president of Farmers Association, and
Yehoshua Hankin, the renowned land purchasing agent. Two tracts were
offered, one at Naane near Rehovot, and the second near Kfar Saba. The second
was deemed more appropriate since it was closer to the urban centre of Tel
Aviv-Jaffa. This was an important issue to many Western Canadian Jews as
seen above with the Winnipeg Achouza project. In 1928, they purchased 650
dunams in the Sharon Plain, north of Kfar Saba and planted it with citrus groves.
Not all the owners immigrated, but from 1928 onward, some made their way to
Gan Hasharon. Max Aidelman served as the plantation manager.62
In 1932, a labour shortage developed because regular employees had left for
better paying jobs in the urban building sector. Aidelman responded by hiring
Arab labourers, but the Histadrut (General Labour Federation) and Revisionist
party members picketed the colony. The embarrassed owners in Canada cabled
Aidelman to give into the Histadrut’s demands. This incident passed, and
Jewish workers were hired.63
At least seventeen persons connected to this colony settled in Palestine. The
Lyons family actually resided at Gan Hasharon while the others lived in Tel
Aviv, often spending weekends at Gan Hasharon. The Lyons arrived in 1936;
their first home was a shack without electricity. Their struggle to remain on the
land was described by their daughter Molly.64
This was incredible. Afloat in a sea of sand was a stretch of fenced-in
oasis. The massive wrought-iron bore: “Gan Hasharon” spelled out in
Hebrew letters [Plate 3], and its pillars were smothered in purple
bougainvillea [sic]. We entered a long avenue of giant trees greeting
us. ... We stood on the hilltop and marveled. The propaganda we had
heard abroad was true ... a group of Canadian Jews from Saskatoon,
with Dad among them, had planted an orange grove. They had dug for
water—the first in the district—installed a diesel engine, irrigated the
soil, and no fewer than three hundred souls made a good living out of
the stretch of land.65
234
Plate 3.
Entrance to Gan Hasharon (photograph Irit Amit, 1993)
The small settlement prospered until World War II. Unable to market their
citrus fruit abroad because of wartime transport problems, they were forced to
destroy their crops.
Prairie Jews could also arrange to settle in Palestine through the agencies of
non-local land purchasing and settlement organizations. The American Zion
Commonwealth (AMZIC) was established in New York in 1914,
for the purpose of aiding in the settlement of Jews in Palestine, and of
securing for our members and their descendants rights, interests and
privileges in lands occupied by the Zion Commonwealth Inc., to the
end that social justice, in harmony with the ideals of the prophets of
Israel, may be the cornerstone of the Jewish Commonwealth in
Zion.66
Members received the rights to farm the surface of the land while the AMZIC
retained the rights of the commercial, industrial and mineral interests. At least
ten percent of AMZIC lands were to be set aside as communal lands for
commercial, industrial and mineral purposes, and settlement development.
Members could sell or transfer their lands but the AMZIC reserved the right to
object to such transactions and to buy back lands at an assessed value. The
constitution further granted exclusive rights to the Zionist Congress through
the Jewish National Fund or any Zionist Congress appointed agency to
purchase at any time all AMZIC lands.67 The AMZIC was a land purchasing
and development company that cooperated in the national endeavour for the
ownership of the Land of Israel by the Jewish People. The Zionist Organization
235
IJCS / RIÉC
of America recognized the AMZIC as the official agency for the purchase of
lands for American Jews. For the Prairie investor, it was one step toward the
dream of returning to the homeland. Owing land in one’s land of origin was a
desire common to many immigrant groups in North America.68
Between 1914 and 1919 (the year of the first AMZIC land purchase), the
company sold land certificates valued at $250 each, which were subsequently
exchanged for land at a specific locale. Later, the AMZIC sold specific plots in
areas which were to be developed into colonies, Herzlia and Afula, for
example.
To attract investors, the AMZIC advertised in organs of the Zionist
Organization of America, the Maccabean, the New Palestine and Dos Yiddishe
Folk. Representatives were also sent to various Jewish communities
throughout the continent. Twenty-five Canadian Prairie Jews purchased land
certificates through the AMZIC, although all but one eventually cancelled their
purchases. The spatial distribution of purchasers in the Prairies was five in
Winnipeg, seven in Saskatchewan and thirteen in Alberta. Although these
numbers appear quite low, they represent a substantial amount of activity in
Prairie terms.69 These figures contain some inaccuracies. In 1940, the Afula
Town Council approached North Americans who owned land in Afula
soliciting them to contribute their lands to the Jewish National Fund. Three
Jews from the Prairies had property in Afula.70 This information complements
the above-mentioned list. In all, twenty-eight Prairie Jewish residents
contracted to buy land, but only four actually fulfilled their financial
commitment and became owners of the land.
Sporadic requests about ways to settle in Palestine are found in the files of many
Zionist organizations. One direction suggested to Canadians with some capital
in the late 1920s through to early 1930s was the “Herut plan.”
“Yakhin,” the Agricultural Concentrating Cooperative Association
of the Histadruth and the directorate of the Jewish National Fund
recently reached an agreement whereby the settling of 200 families on
a large new tract of land in Vadi Havarith [Emek Hefer] was entrusted
to Yakhin. Yakhin has taken upon itself the task of organizing in
different countries two hundred working and middle class families
who can in a period of five to six years set aside the sums necessary for
the cultivation of the orange groves. According to the plan, by the time
orange groves mature, the families will be in a position to settle in
Palestine and be assured of a living.71
Three groups were organized under this scheme. Twenty families of the Herut
Aleph group established Tzofit in the Sharon in 1931. Sixty-five families of the
Herut Bet group developed Bet Herut on the Jewish National Fund tract of
Wadi Hawareth (Emek Hefer) in 1932. Herut Aleph and Bet provided ten
dunams each, for the settlers. Herut Gimmel was planned for fifty families and
was to be located adjacent to Herut Bet. It was designed specifically for North
Americans (twenty-five Americans and twenty-five Canadians) with twenty
dunams to be supplied for each holding.72
Some Jews from the Prairies took an interest in this project. A Winnipeg Jew
inquired of the Zionist Organization of Canada whether he could purchase a
236
few dunams of land, how many dunams would be necessary for a family of four,
and whether it would be necessary to pay for it all at once or in installments. This
inquiry was forwarded to the Montreal Labour Committee for Palestine. Its
financial secretary recommended the Herut plan.73
The Herut Plan was advertised in many Jewish newspapers. It piqued the
interest of a Regina reader. In a quest for further information, he explained, “I
notice by an article in the Israelite Press that the [Jewish] National Fund is
considering taking out twenty-five families to Palestine and settling them on
the land.”74 The plan referred to was Herut Gimmel.
In the end, no Western Canadians joined the Herut settlements. Tzofit had five
American families and there were seventeen in Beit Herut.75 No apparent
reason has been found to explain why Jews from the Prairies did not settle in any
of the Herut settlements. In the case of the Regina man, he probably could not
afford the Herut Gimmel project. The total cost for the land and its development
was $2,500 payable over five years. An additional investment of $1,500 was
suggested in order to erect a house, pay for household necessities and establish a
garden. The family had sufficient funds for travel and about $400 for
investment which would only have covered the initial payment of $350.76
In 1929, Joseph Hestrin of Winnipeg pointed out certain limitations and
problems that he perceived in the Herut scheme. He explained:
I have thought quite a bit about “Herut” since the plan was born, and
the greatest difficulty which I see in the realization of the plan is
basing it on party membership. I do not know if you have had time to
become acquainted with our people in America. I know them,
unfortunately. Outside of a few exceptions, our crowd is absolutely
not suited to cooperative living together, and secondly, what is worse,
they have no skills for working. Ten years of life in America has
sapped whatever creative power existed and left invalids of the
American type. It will save you much grief and pain if you will
remember in advance this misfortune of ours.77
Settlement projects organized outside of the Prairies piqued the interest of a few
Prairie Jews, some of whom even entered into financial and contractual
commitments, like those offered by the American Zion Commonwealth. Yet
these projects did not result in the actual settlement of Prairie Jews in Palestine.
One possible explanation could be that the distance between the Prairies and
New York impeded communication and probably resulted in a diminishing
interest in these projects. However, it more likely expressed the vast gulf
distance between the dream of owning land in Palestine and the reality of living
and working in Palestine.
Return to the Prairies
Not all of those who immigrated to Palestine remained indefinitely. Reasons
for returning were as varied as those for immigrating in the first place. The main
reasons were dissatisfaction and disappointment with life in Palestine. Molly
Lyons told of Gladys Sussman originally from Saskatoon who had returned to
Canada, whose experience reflected the difficulties for North Americans in
general.
237
IJCS / RIÉC
Eventually Gladys returned to Canada and so did most of the others
who came to farm but lived in the city. None of those families who
remained in Palestine ever came to live on the land, except our own.
Transplantation was not easy for any Jew, for American Jews it was
doubly hard. They could not renounce their former habits, they could
not take the hard country life, and Tel Aviv was neither a substitute for
New York nor was it the heroic halutz life which had cast such a spell
over their dreams.78
They were not the only ones to return to the Prairies. Ber Friedman explained to
his family in Canada his hesitation about returning to Winnipeg. “It is very hard
to live the years left to us, to live without any children around. It is only that it is
warm here, and we do not have to pay rent, and we do not have to heat the house.
If not for this we would return to Canada.” He was concerned about his health
and in the event of his demise, leaving his wife to fend for herself in Palestine,
without family support. Malka, his wife, “was ashamed to go back [to Canada],
and she loves the warm climate.” Their three-year sojourn in Palestine ended in
1924.79
Sam Bellas in 1938 attempted to return to Canada. Resident in Raanana for
more than five years, he wrote his friend and lawyer, Jacob M. Goldenberg of
Saskatoon, for assistance in re-entering Canada. Bellas had lost his Canadian
status when he became a naturalized Palestinian citizen. His reasons for leaving
were, “[t]he heat of the day takes all the pep out of one, because the life is a
profitless one it is a hard one, otherwise I would not have to work so hard.”80
Goldenberg wrote to authorities in Ottawa and spoke to a local Immigration
Inspector, and responded to Bellas:
[T]he only way in which you could come back to Canada is by special
order in Council. You are now in the same position as though you had
never been in Canada before. A special order in Council is only passed
in exceptional cases where the proposed immigrant is in a position to
show that he will bring a very substantial amount of money into the
country, and even then the matter depends a great deal upon personal
influence. Your previous long residence in Canada and the fact that
you have relatives here may, of course, influence the Department in
your favour.81
Details have not been found as to whether Bellas returned to Canada. But this
example illustrates the problem for Canadians who had relinquished their
citizenship and wished to return to Canada.
Almost no records were kept differentiating among the citizenship or
nationality of emigrants. Thus, no conclusions can be drawn about the
emigration of North American Jews from Palestine. Even without evidence, a
stigma was placed on North American immigrants as having a high rate reimmigration from Palestine. Figures—not based on any statistical
information—were freely thrown about suggesting a return rate of one in three.
Goldscheider suggested a 30 percent (plus or minus 10 percent) return
migration for American olim during the British Mandate period, based on
general rates of return migration for the period.82 From the details collected,
Goldscheider’s estimate appears appropriate for the Prairie Jewish population.
238
Conclusion
Prairie Jewish migration to Palestine is an example of rural-to-rural migration.
This differed from the majority of the North American Jewish migration which
was urban-to-urban migration. Each type of migration implies the movement
from a certain type of settlement landscape to the same type of settlement
landscape in another locale. Does this imply an easier transition? In the case of
Prairie Jews, it did not. The variation of conditions—climatic, agricultural,
technological, organizational and cultural—all led to difficulties in adjusting to
the new environment of Palestine.
Nevertheless, Prairie inhabitants produced a disproportionately large number
of plans and formed societies for settlement in Palestine. The plans reflected
perceptions drawn from the Prairie environment, and most of them were
impractical for Palestine. Not enough land could be obtained for such largescale projects, nor did the Zionist settlement organizations (Zionist
Commission for Palestine, Palestine Zionist Executive, Jewish Agency, Jewish
National Fund, Keren Hayesod) fully support these plans. Initiatives by Prairie
Jews that succeeded in purchasing land, and obtaining concessions from the
Government of Palestine received the praise of Zionist settlement
organizations. These organizations preferred to utilize their limited resources
for the settlement of Eastern European Jews, particularly halutzim. Two
endeavours bore fruit for Prairie Jews: Gan Hasharon, and Asher Cucuy’s ElRakayik farmstead.
The Prairies sent at least 100 immigrants to Palestine during the interwar years.
The potential for immigration was much greater. Over 125 families showed a
commitment to settle in Palestine through membership in land purchasing and
settlement organizations (HaIkar: 50, Winnipeg Achouza: 50, and the
American Zion Commonwealth: 28).
The number of actual and potential immigrants, the various plans and the actual
settlement all illustrate the unique situation that existed in the Canadian
Prairies. A variety of factors—economic, social and geographic—combined
with a heightened ideological component—Zionism—led to a relatively large
migrational movement from this region of North America to Palestine.
Notes
*
1.
2.
3.
Assistance was provided by the Israel Association for Canadian Studies and the Halbert
Centre for Canadian Studies at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem.
Wapella, Manitoba (1888); Hirsch, Saskatchewan (1892); Lipton, Saskatchewan (1901);
Edenbridge and Sonnenfeld, Saskatchewan, Rumsey, Alberta (1906); Narcisse/Bender,
Manitoba (1903); Alsak/Montefiore, Saskatchewan (1910); Camper, Manitoba (1911). See
Harry Gutkin, Journey into Our Heritage, The Story of the Jewish People in the Canadian
West (Toronto: Lester & Orpen Dennys, 1980), 55-67.
See Haim Avni, “Canada, Argentina and the Jews until World War II: The Impact of
Immigration and Industrialization Policies on the Formation of Two Diasporas,” Occasional
Paper, 18, The Halbert Centre for Canadian Studies, The Hebrew University of Jerusalem,
Jerusalem, 1996, 7.
Canadian Western Jewish Times (April 1914), 3, Glenbow-Alberta Institute Archives,
Calgary (henceforth: GAIA), David Spindel Miscellaneous Papers, M4744.
239
IJCS / RIÉC
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.
10.
11.
12.
13.
14.
15.
16.
17.
240
An example of migration for traditional reasons is Menahem Holtzman, born in Winnipeg in
1891. His family moved to San Francisco in 1893, residing there for eight years until
migrating to Palestine in 1901. Holztman married in 1910 and fathered ten children. He was
associated with Kollel America Tiffereth Yerushalim, a society founded in Jerusalem in
1896. Its purpose was, “To aid and assist indigent and needy American Jews and Jews of
other countries resident in Jerusalem and Palestine” (“American” in this case refers also to
Canadian), Yad Izhak Ben-Zvi Archives, Jerusalem, file 4/3/3/29. A second example is that
of the Katzes. Canadian Jewish historian David Rome provided the author with the
following information “Naphtali Katz and his wife Rebecca fled the pogroms in Odessa and
reached Winnipeg in the early 1880’s with an extended family, some of whom became early
pioneer settlers in the Canadian west. They all became members of New Jerusalem, the first
Jewish agricultural effort at Mosoomin, Saskatchewan, sponsored by the London Mansion
House Fund, in 1884. When this project foundered the elder Katzes travelled to old
Jerusalem where they lived out their remaining years.”
Aaron Antonovsky and Abraham David Katz, From the Golden Land to the Promised Land
(Darby, Penn.: Norwood Editions and Jerusalem: Jerusalem Academic Press, 1979), 50-53.
For a more detailed discussion of motivation see Joseph B. Glass, “American and Canadian
Jews in Eretz Israel: Immigration, Settlement and Initiatives for the Development of the
Landscape during the beginning of British Rule (1917-1932),” (Hebrew), Ph.D. diss., The
Hebrew University of Jerusalem, Jerusalem 1995, 66-89.
Ibid.
Myra Paperny (granddaughter of David and Kotie Cohen), interview by author, Calgary, 12
September 1993.
Malca (Boroditzky) Sela, interview by author, Tel Aviv, 27 December 1995.
“Palestine Will Have British Protection,” Morning Albertan, 18 October 1918, 6.
Zachariah Kay, Canada & Palestine, The Politics of Non-Commitment (Jerusalem: Israel
Universities Press, 1978), 46-53; Izhak Ben-Zvi, “A History of the Jewish Legion,” Itzhak
Ben-Zvi, The Jewish Legion, Letters, (Hebrew), (Jerusalem: Yad Izhak Ben-Zvi, 1969), 2627; Elias Gilner, War and Hope, A History of the Jewish Legion (New York: Herzl Press,
1969), 64.
Mark Wyman, Round-Trip to America, The Immigrants Return to Europe, 1880-1930
(Ithaca and London: Cornell University Press, 1993), 109-13.
Israelite Press (Yiddish), 25 March 1918, 1; 26 April 1918, 1; 3 May 1918, 1; 7 July 1918, 1;
23 August 1918, 1; Correspondence with Military District No. 10, Winnipeg, National
Archives of Canada, Ottawa (henceforth: NAC), RG 24 vol. 4606, 20-10-98; Arthur A.
Chiel, The Jews of Manitoba, A Social History (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1961),
161, quoting Winnipeg Evening Tribune, 8 April 1918. Winnipeg lawyer and Zionist,
Abraham Mark Shinbane, recounted his brother’s enlistment. “My young brother had just
graduated from the University of Manitoba ... on a Friday. He joined this Jewish battalion on
the following Monday, and four days later ... they entrained and left for New York from
where they sailed overseas to England for their training.” Jewish Historical Society of
Western Canada, Jewish Life and Times, VI (June 1993): 77. See also Gutkin, Journey into
Our Heritage, 219-20 for photographs of Jewish Legionnaires.
Kay, Canada & Palestine, 51; Haim Sokolov, “The Jewish Legion for Palestine,” in Jewish
Life and Times, A Collection of Essays (Winnipeg: Jewish Historical Society of Western
Canada, 1983), 56; Louis Rosenberg, Canada’s Jews, A Social and Economic Study of the
Jews in Canada (Montreal: Canadian Jewish Congress, 1939), 19, 249.
John Herd Thompson, The Harvests of War, The Prairie West, 1914-1918 (Toronto:
McClelland and Stewart, 1978), 115-46.
David Ben-Gurion, Israel, A Personal History (New York: Funk & Wagnalls, and Tel Aviv:
Sabra Books, 1971), 42, 843.
Gershon Agronsky, “A Survey of the Jewish Battalions prepared at the Request of the
Zionist Commission,” June 1919, Central Zionist Archives, Jerusalem (henceforth: CZA)
A209/1.
Izhak Ben-Zvi, Tel El Kabir to Rachel Ben-Zvi, n.p., 27 October and 20 November 1918
(Hebrew), in Jewish Legion, 40-41, 44-45.
18.
19.
20.
21.
22.
23.
24.
25.
26.
27.
28.
29.
30.
31.
32.
33.
34.
35.
Excerpt, Pascal Brodie, Winnipeg to Leon Cheifetz, Palestine, 12 November 1919, in
Israelite Press, 18 May 1978, 4-5. Joseph B. Glass, “Balfouria: an American Zionist
Colony,” Studies in Zionism, 14:1 (Spring 1993): 53-72.
Zionist Commission for Palestine questionnaire for Officers and O.R.s. who desire to settle
in Palestine after demobilization, CZA L3/25IV. D.W. Rosenheck listed his trade as a wheat
farmer from Canada. It is likely he came from the Prairies.
Leon Goldman, Executive Secretary, Zionist Organization of Canada, Montreal to Jacob De
Haas, Executive Secretary, Zionist Organization of America, New York, 17 March 1920,
NAC, MG 28, V81, vol. 7.
Zionist Organization of America, “Statistical Report on Applicants and Registrants for
Immigration to Palestine from America,” 31 May 1920, CZA F25/33; Rosenberg, Canada’s
Jews, 226-27.
Simon Belkin, Through Narrow Gates, A Review of Jewish Immigration, Colonization and
Immigrant Aid Work in Canada (1840-1940), (Montreal: Eagle Publishing Co., 1966), 161162; Jewish Historical Society of Southern Alberta, Shorashim—Roots, A Summary of the
History of the Jewish Community in Calgary and Southern Alberta, 1888-1945 (Calgary,
1991), 57; John W. Bennett, “Adaptive Strategy and Processes in the Canadian Plains,” in A
Region of the Mind, Interpreting the Western Canadian Plains, ed. Richard Allen (Regina:
Canadian Plains Research Centre, University of Regina, 1973), 196-99.
Mordechai Naor, ed. The Pioneers of Herzliya, The Story of the First Settlers, 1924-1934,
(Hebrew), vol. 3, (Herzlia: n.p., 1990), n.p. In another example, twenty-two-year-old
William Canter applied for a labour certificate in 1931. This Regina man had come from a
farming family. Dr. S. Bernstein, Director, Palestine Bureau, New York, to Immigration
Department, Jewish Agency, Jerusalem, 15 June 1931, CZA S6/2630.
John Hope-Simpson, Report on Immigration, Land, Settlement and Development (London:
H.M. Stationary Office, 1930), 120; M. Mossek, Palestine Immigration Policy under Sir
Herbert Samuel, British, Zionist and Arab Attitudes (London: F. Cass, 1978), 35-40, 58-60.
Molly Lyons Bar-David, My Promised Land (New York: G. P. Putnam’s Sons, 1953), 14,
28.
Becky Hock, interview by author, Biggar, Saskatchewan, 5 September 1993; During her
lifetime she was teased by her husband, “[i]f I hadn’t married you, I would have gone to
Palestine.” Leon Goldman, “History of Zionism in Canada,” in The Jew in Canada, a
Complete Record of Canadian Jewry from the Days of the French Regime to the Present
Time, ed. Daniel Hart (Toronto and Montreal: Jewish Publications Ltd., 1930), 307.
Montreal Star, 5 September 1929, 7; Resolution passed at a meeting of Jewish people of
Saskatoon, 2 September 1929, NAC MG 25 J1 vol. 194, reel c-2309, 137813; “Change in
British Policy Towards Palestine Brings Protest of Calgary Jews,” Calgary Albertan, 11
November 1930, 3.
American Students at The Hebrew University of Jerusalem, circa 1938, The Hebrew
University of Jerusalem Archives, Jerusalem, file 620/1938IV.
Malca (Boroditzky) Sela interview; Aron Horowtiz, Striking Roots, Reflections on Five
Decades of Jewish Life (Oakville, Ont.: Mosaic Press, 1979), 19.
Lyons, My Promised Land, 23.
Ibid, 12-13, 23, 37.
List of Unemployed (circa 1936), GAIA, M1107/39; E. H. Coleman, Under Secretary of
State, Ottawa to O. D. Skelton, Under Secretary of State for External Affairs, Ottawa, NAC
RG 25, G-1 vol. 1678; Year Book of Young Judaea, 1931 (Montreal, 1931), 65; Telegram,
Secretary for External Affairs, Ottawa to Secretary of State for Dominion Affairs, London,
23 September 1929, NAC RG 25 G-1 vol. 1549, file 690 telegrams.
A. Levadu, Quinton, Saskatchewan to Arthur Ruppin, Jaffa, circa 1911 (German); A.
Levadu, Quinton, Saskatchewan to Prof. Otto Warburg, Berlin, 26 February 1912, (Yiddish)
CZA L1/110.
Goldman, “Zionism in Canada,” 295.
Minutes of the Twelfth Convention of the Federation of Zionist Societies of Canada, Ottawa,
29-30 June , 1 July, 1912, NAC MG 28 V 81 vol. 2, 63-65, 114-15. Contributions from the
Prairies were from B’nai Zion, Winnipeg, $305; Agudath Zion, Calgary, $100; and
Edmonton Hebrew Institute, $10 (8.2% of the $5,052.78 collected); Mr. Asovsky who
expressed the desire of the twelve to buy land was not listed among the membership of other
241
IJCS / RIÉC
36.
37.
38.
39.
40.
41.
42.
43.
44.
45.
46.
47.
48.
49.
50.
51.
242
settlement groups. Yossi Katz, “The Plans and Efforts of the Jews of Winnipeg to Purchase
Land and to Establish an Agricultural Settlement in Palestine before World War One,”
Canadian Jewish Historical Society Journal, 5:1 (Spring 1981): 1-16; List of Members of
HaIkar Association, CZA L3/66II.
Minutes of the Council meeting of the Federation of Zionist Societies of Canada, 173-74;
Goldman, “Canadian Zionism,” 298-99; Dan Giladi, “The Failure of a Settlement: Be’er
Tuvia (Kastina),” (Hebrew) Zionism, 3 (1973): 125.
“Zionism Active in Regina,” Regina Leader, 25 April 1911, 3.
Yossi Katz, The “Business” of Settlement, Private Entrepreneurship in the Jewish
Settlement of Palestine, 1900-1914 (Jerusalem: Magnes Press and Ramat-Gan: Bar-Ilan
University Press, 1994), 203-46; Bernard I. Sandler, “Hoachoozo—Zionism in America and
the Colonization of Palestine,” American Jewish Historical Society, 44:2 (December 1974):
137-38.
English translation of Hebrew letter to the Palestine Land Development Company, 23
December 1912, in Katz, “Winnipeg Achouza,” 5; Israelite Press, 12 December 1912, 5;
Chiel, Jews of Manitoba, 157.
A. Harris, n.p. to the Palestine Land Development Company, n.p., May 1913, quoted in Katz,
“Winnipeg Achouza,” 6.
Quoted in Maureen Fox, “Jewish Agricultural Colonies in Saskatchewan with Special
Reference to the Colonies of Sonnenfeld and Edenbridge,” M.A. thesis, Department of
Geography, University of Saskatchewan, Saskatoon, 1979, 63.
Chiel, Jews in Manitoba, 56.
Palestine Land Development Company to L. Segal, 7 April 1922, CZA L18/94/2; Isaac
Smofsky, “My Life Story,” Petah Tikvah, tr. A. I. Cohen, Lake Worth, Florida, August 1945,
56. “In the beginning of 1914, we received a letter from a Mr. Levine who formerly resided in
Yarmouth and was a very good friend of ours. In his letter, Mr. Levine informed us that a
number of Jewish residents organized a society for the purpose of settling in Palestine. The
name of the organization was Achiza [sic] of Winnipeg. ... Mr. Levine urged us to join the
society Abe and I immediately accepted the invitation. Isadore held out for some little time.
Later, however, he too joined so we had in Clark Harbor [sic] three members in good
standing.”
Letter of authorization for Asher Cucuy from S. Rusoff, Secretary of the Farmers
Association, Winnipeg, 24 June 1919, CZA L3/66II.
Memorandum of agreement between the Zionist Farming Association, Winnipeg and Asher
Cucuy, Winnipeg, 4 June 1919, Tel Aviv University Archives, Tel Aviv (henceforth:
TAUA), P-18/2; Telegram from Zioniburo, London to Palestine Commission, Jaffa, 24 July
1919, CZA L3/376; Bernard Rosenblatt, n.p. to Louis D. Brandeis, Washington, D.C., 23
January 1920, CZA A405/37B; Asher Cucuy, Jaffa to the Zionist Commission, Jaffa, 6
October 1919 (Hebrew) CZA A24/143/8. The average settlement size is based on 104
settlements, 1,002,000 dunams less unsettled lands (274,381 dunams) and farms (17,278
dunams). See: David Gurevitz, Statistical Abstract of Palestine, 1929 (Jerusalem: Keren
Hayesod, 1930), 90-99.
“Colonization Scheme for Shor El-Farha,” circa. 1920, TAUA, P-18/4.
Chaim Weizmann, London to Sir Herbert Samuel, Jerusalem, 4 March 1921, in The Letters
and Papers of Chaim Weizmann, ed. Leonard Stein, vol. 10, (Oxford: Oxford University
Press, 1968), 162; Chaim Weizmann, New York to Asher Cucuy, Winnipeg, 10 June 1921,
CZA Z4/30315.
Plan for a Garden City at Beit Shaan, n.d., TAUA, P-18/5.
Translation of Yiddish letter from Ber Friedman, Ein Ganim to family members in
Winnipeg, 26 April 1921, Provincial Archives of Manitoba, Winnipeg (henceforth: PAM),
MG 10 F3; Israelite Press, 20 June 1922, 1, 3.
Asher Cucuy, Acre to E. Bavli, Agricultural Settlement Department, Jerusalem, 8 April
1928 (Hebrew), CZA S15/350; Asher Cucuy, Winnipeg to the Palestine Office, Jaffa, 6
January 1919 (Yiddish), CZA S15/80.
Glass, “Balfouria,” 60-61; Asher Cucuy, Acre to Harry Sacker, Jerusalem, 21 October 1927,
TAUA, P-18/6.
52.
53.
54.
55.
56.
57.
58.
59.
60.
61.
62.
63.
64.
65.
66.
67.
68.
69.
70.
71.
72.
73.
74.
75.
76.
Report on El Rakayik by Dr. M. Zagrodoski, Jerusalem, 17 August 1928, CZA S15/269B;
Agreement between Sir Herbert Samuel and Asher Cucuy, 18 January 1923, CZA
KKL5/1711.
Hebrew translation of Yiddish letter from Asher Cucuy, Haifa to Chaim Weizmann, n.p., 24
August 1923, TAUA, P-18/2. The American Zion Commonwealth received a concession for
12,000 dunams and purchased some 45,000 dunams, see Leah Doukhan-Landau, “The Haifa
Bay Lands and the American Zion Commonwealth (1925-1930),” (Hebrew), Cathedra, 41
(October 1986): 173-99. To further his plans, Cucuy turned to Sir Alfred Mond and Louis D.
Brandeis; see Asher Cucuy, Acre to Sir Alfred Mond, n.p., 16 January 1928, TAUA, P18/7/3; Asher Cucuy, Acre to Louis D. Brandeis, Washington, 25 December 1926, TAUA,
P-18/6.
Jacob DeHaas, “Diary,” 20 October 1924, CZA A405/42A.
Col. Frederick Kisch, Jerusalem to Dr. Arthur Ruppin, n.p., 28 November 1924, CZA
S15/269B; Asher Cucuy, ed., “Cucuy Family History,” (Hebrew), (Haifa: n.p., 1993).
Ramat Gan, 1921-1946, Jubilee Book, (Hebrew), (Ramat Gan: Ramat Gan Local Council,
1946), 47-8; Mischar VeTaasiah (Trade and Industry), 1 (1 January 1923), 17.
Rose Pearlman Levin interview by Arona Binder, Winnipeg, 28 June 1979, Jewish
Historical Society of Western Canada, Winnipeg; Canadian Passport issued to Ber
Friedman, Ottawa, 17 January 1921, PAM MG 10 F3.
Register of the Palestine Immigration for the Month: 1 September until 1 October 1932, New
York, CZA S17/162.
Israelite Press (Yiddish), 19 June 1928, 1.
Irit Amit, “Jewish Land and Settlement Policy in the Southern Sharon between the Years
1918 and 1929, The Role of National Capital and Private Enterprise in Shaping the Region,”
(Hebrew), Ph.D. diss., The Hebrew University of Jerusalem, Jerusalem 1993, 84-90.
Ibid; Israelite Press, 13 November 1931, 3; 15 December 1931, 1; “Good Opportunities for
Many American and Canadian Jews Now in Palestine,” Archives and Museum Jewish Labor
Movement, Tel Aviv, IV-104-102-37.
Jacob Michael Goldenberg, Saskatoon to Prime Minister William L. Mackenzie King,
Ottawa, 4 September 1929, NAC MG 25 JI vol. 194 reel C-2309; Israelite Press, 20 January
1928, 1; David Gurevich and A. Gerz, Jewish Agricultural Settlement in Palestine (General
Survey and Statistical Abstract), (Jerusalem: Jewish Agency for Palestine, 1938), 4.
Israelite Press, 21 December 1932, 2; 27 December 1932, 1; Unsigned letter to Leon
Cheifetz, Montreal, 2 June 1934, Canadian Jewish Congress National Archives, Montreal
(henceforth: CJCNA), Poale Zion Archives 1922-1934, box 1 (temp. loc.); Lyons, My
Promised Land, 42.
Israelite Press, 8 July 1932, 5; 15 November 1932, 3; Lyons, My Promised Land, 40-1, 49.
Constitution of the Zion Commonwealth Inc., CZA Z4/762.
Irit Amit, “American Jewry and the Settlement of Palestine: Zion Commonwealth, Inc.,” in
The Land that Became Israel, Studies in Historical Geography, ed. Ruth Kark (New Haven:
Yale University Press and Jerusalem: Magnes Press, 1990), 250-71.
Wyman, Round-Trip to America, 129-39.
List of American Zion Commonwealth purchasers, CZA L65/436.
Communication of author with Carl Alpert, Haifa, 19 November 1995; List of North
American land owners, Afula Town Council, circa. 1940, Carl Alpert private papers, Haifa.
“An Extensive Colonization Scheme in Palestine,” New York, 27 February 1933, CZA
S17/161.
Ibid; Leon Cheifetz, Montreal to M. Woodman, Regina, CJCNA Poale Zion Archives, 19221934 (temp. loc.).
Isaac Berck, Winnipeg to the Zionist Organization of Canada, Montreal, 12 October 1932;
Jesse Schwartz, Zionist Organization of Canada, Montreal, to Leon Cheifitz, Montreal, 17
October 1932, CJCNA Poale Zion Archives 1922-1934, box 1 (temp. loc.).
M. Woodman, Regina to Leon Cheifitz, Montreal, 6 June 1933; Leon Cheifitz [?], Montreal
[?] to M. Woodman, Regina, 14 July 1933, CJCNA Poale Zion Archives 1922-1932 (temp.
loc.).
Emanuel Liebes, History of Moshav Beit Herut, (Hebrew), (Beit Herut, n. p. 1994).
Woodman to Cheifitz, 6 June 1933; Cheifitz [?] to Woodman, 14 July 1933.
243
IJCS / RIÉC
77.
78.
79.
80.
81.
82.
244
Joseph Hestrin, Winnipeg to Abraham Koller, Tel Aviv [?], 21 October 1929, (Yiddish)
Archives of the Jewish Labor Movement, Tel Aviv, IV-104-102-11.
Translation of letter from Ber Friedman, Palestine to family members in Winnipeg, 28
December 1923, PAM MG 10 F3. Aron Schnitka of Calgary, a representative of HaIkar
spent eighteen months in Palestine. He intended to buy land with Asher Cucuy for HaIkar but
returned to Calgary. Another member of this group, S. Rusoff of Winnipeg spent two and a
half years in Palestine before returning to his native Winnipeg. The Kanees of Melville,
Saskatchewan left for Palestine in 1921 but were back in their home town by 1927. Israelite
Press, 18 March 1918, 7; 20 June 1922; A. Schnitka, Calgary to Meir Disengoff, Tel Aviv,
10 December 1925, Tel Aviv-Jaffa Municipal Archives, Tel Aviv, RG 3, file 150.
Sam Bellas, Raanana to Jacob M. Goldenberg, Saskatoon, 17 August 1938, Saskatchewan
Archives Board, Regina and Saskatoon (henceforth: SAB) RG B26.2, file 1, part 1.
Jacob M. Goldenberg, Saskatoon to Sam Bellas, Raanana, 28 September 1938, SAB RG
B26.1, file 1, part 1.
Pinhas E. Lapide, A Century of U.S. Aliya, (Jerusalem: Association of Americans and
Canadians in Israel, 1961), 127, arrived at 31-32 per hundred through piecing together
various unspecified sources; Ralph G. Martin, Golda, A Biography (New York: Ivy Books,
1988), 118, mentioned one in three; Calvin Goldscheider, “American Aliya, Sociological
and Demographic Perspectives,” in The Jew in American Society, ed. Marshall Sklare (New
York: Behrman House, 1974), 351.
Review Essays
Essais critiques
Diana Brydon
Sliding Metaphors: Rethinking the Nation in
Global Contexts
Christopher Bracken, The Potlatch Papers: A Colonial Case History
(University of Chicago Press).
Sarah M. Corse, Nationalism and Literature: The Politics of Culture in
Canada and the United States (Cambridge University Press).
Marlene Goldman, Paths of Desire: Images of Exploration and Mapping in
Canadian Women’s Writing (University of Toronto Press).
W.H. New, Land Sliding: Imagining Space, Presence, and Power in Canadian
Writing (University of Toronto Press).
Marlene Nourbese Philip, A Genealogy of Resistance and Other Essays
(Mercury)
Norman Ravvin, A House of Words: Jewish Writing Identity and Memory
(University of Toronto Press).
Rinaldo Walcott, Black Like Who? Writing Black Canada (Insomniac)
Bruce Ziff and Pratima V. Rao, Borrowed Power: Essays on Cultural
Appropriation (New Brunswick, New Jersey: Rutgers)
Nationalism and globalization shape the concerns of several new books in
Canadian literary criticism and cultural studies first published in 1997, but the
ways in which these concerns are articulated may seem unfamiliar to people
working in other disciplines. Most of these literary critics choose to develop
their arguments through exploring the resonances of metaphor and abandoning
the linear logic of argument for the discontinuous and apparently eclectic logic
of associative linkages, verbal play and a mixing of methodologies. Such
strategies seek to match the forms of their analysis to the complexities of what
they analyse. As Norman Ravvin concludes in A House of Words: “we rely on
our fiction makers and poets to imagine genealogies of buried ancestry and to
uncover surprising characters—miraculous, trailing wisps of cobweb and
nightshadow—who maintain an uneasy balance between the demands of the
present and the inheritance of the past.” Such modes of knowing, he implies,
meet a need that cannot be filled by the “disciplinary protocol of the social
scientist” (163).
W.H. New begins Land Sliding by explaining “[m]y intention is not to produce
a linear history of a national culture or a new geography of social relations, but
IJCS / RIÉC
to provide a discontinuous analysis of some textual practices, to indicate how,
inside a social context, land-language slides” (17). Marlene Goldman defends
her method in Paths of Desire against possible interpretation as “erratic” by
explaining that it “may well be postmodern, in that it does not foster the illusion
that the texts share some underlying essential, and unifying principle,” despite
the way in which each of her five white women Canadian writers is writing her
“way out of a patriarchal and colonial tradition” (26). Similarly, Norman
Ravvin describes his approach to what distinguishes literature of the Jewish
experience in Canada from that of the United States and what links them as
“eclectic, that of the bricoleur” (6). These three texts of literary criticism locate
their enquiries within certain global discourses in attempts to identify and
interrogate markers of Canadianness. Interestingly, each invokes postcolonial
theory to different degrees, acknowledging Canada’s roots in the globalism of
empire. More specifically, New makes extensive use of geographical theory,
Goldman of feminist theory, and Ravvin of holocaust theory to focus on how
different identities are written, consolidated and revised in a variety of
Canadian texts, where national identifications continually brush against the
pressures of global realities.
Within these contexts, Goldman provides close readings of contemporary
novels by Audrey Thomas, Susan Swan, Daphne Marlatt, Aritha van Herk and
Jane Urquhart. Ravvin interprets poetry and novels by Eli Mandel, Leonard
Cohen, Mordecai Richler, Philip Roth, Chava Rosenfarb, Nathanael West and
Saul Bellow, concluding with a chapter on the Holocaust and the Academy.
W.H. New’s study is more ambitious, reading literary texts against other
documents, including a selection of paintings.
Whereas Goldman uses concepts of mapping both literally and figuratively,
and metaphors of “earth quake” and “salvage” for the processes of
interrogation and retrieval she locates in the work of her small selection of
writers, in Land Sliding, W.H. New mobilizes the double reference of land slide
(to a “reconfiguring of land formations” and “an overwhelming electoral
plurality”) as the starting point for his argument that land is an important verbal
trope in Canadian writing that when examined may yield an explanation of
“how various configurations of land function in literature ... to question or
confirm configurations of power (5). He argues that these configurations
represent larger social issues than cultural nationalism alone; postcolonial
concerns with “colony and empire, wealth and power, centre and margin, the
opportunity to speak and the likelihood of being heard” (11) are also implicated
in this examination, as they are in the collected essays of Nourbese Philip and
Walcott. Proceeding chronologically through the changes wrought on the trope
as invoked by the chapter titles “Landing,” “Land Office,” “Landed,” and
“Landscape,” New traces the ways in which a developing Canadian nation has
“attempted to speak its own values” (214) and “the strategies of connection that
a people who call themselves ‘Canadian’ devise to live by” (215). This
nationalist project locates itself explicitly in resistance to the “transnational
voices of media and industry” (213). New’s immensely learned and
extensively documented study should prove important for scholars working in
geography, fine arts and in literary and Canadian studies.
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Rethinking the Nation in Global Contexts
Although New ranges beyond the literary, he is still attentive to the special
qualities of literary texts and continues to privilege them for their complex
artistry and the insights they provide. The remaining books on our list take the
specialized reading skills developed in literary theory into a wider field of
cultural analysis, often abandoning Literature entirely. In The Potlach Papers,
Chris Bracken employs a rigorously consistent, deconstructive reading of
historical, legal, government and anthropological archival documents to
“locate the law against potlatch and tamanawas within three intertwining zones
of textual contradiction” (5): the limit, fold and gift. In mapping these zones, he
shows “how a given text diverges from itself” (6), or in other words, how
potlatch was used in a failed attempt “to hasten the assimilation of British
Columbia First Nations into the Canadian body politic—part of a larger project
to give Europe-in-Canada a feeling for its own whiteness and nationhood”
(230). Bracken ends this tour de force on a note of doom, mourning and
condemning that ill-conceived project of constructing the Canadian nation
from a tainted heritage: “And somewhere in that self-consciousness, which
knows that it is fundamentally incompatible with itself, the nation
acknowledges that its strategies of self-justification are inadequate to their task,
and it silently confesses that its existence is also a crime” (231). Here is an echo
of Ravvin’s concern with the legacy of 1492, which set “in motion two
historical narratives that ultimately lead to genocide, in which racial
‘cleansing’ is the key motif, and buried cities—whether Amazonian or
Jewish—are the conclusive outcome” (163).
Ravvin and Bracken’s interest in racialized constructions of national identity
and how they are linked to what Bracken calls the “evanescent yet violent
effects of writing” (6) are echoed in the essay collections by Walcott and
Nourbese Philip. Rinaldo Walcott explains that Black Like Who? “[i]s a
meditation on the place of black Canadas in contemporary discourses of black
diaspora(s) and the black Atlantic” (17). He argues that when we theorize
diaspora we need to attend to national power and to “address the question of
imperialism” (26-7). Reading constructions of Canada against those of
diaspora, he suggests that “multiplicities of blackness in Canada collide in
ways that are instructive for current diasporic theorizing” (29) and that the
“project for black Canadian artists and critics is to articulate a grammar of black
that is located within Canada’s various regions, both urban and rural” (148).
This grammar of black, he hopes, “will cement blackness to the nation and
reconfigure the nation for the better” (149). In A Genealogy of Resistance,
Nourbese Philip plays a proliferation of stories against various silences
externally and self-imposed to explore genealogies of resistance and belonging
that link Canada to the Caribbean, Africa and England. This is the most
personal of these books, merging poetry with essay, words with place and
displacement. As she puts it, “[t]o know my place I have chosen to follow an
often fragile thread through a labyrinth of miseducation, disinformation and
amnesia—collective and personal” (70). For her, Canada is a place “where
words are surrounded by and trying to fill all that white space, negative space,
blank space—where the silence is and never was silent” (125). For these
writers, such contradictory formulations encode their experience of reality as
249
IJCS / RIÉC
itself contradictory, both something to be resisted yet itself the ground for
resistance.
The contrasts between the methods and focus of these texts against those of
Sarah Corse’s Nationalism and Literature and Ziff and Rao’s collection
Borrowed Power are striking. Corse grounds her text in empirical analysis and
labours to prove the premises with which the others begin: “national literatures
and nations themselves are socially constructed under identifiable political and
historical circumstances” (4). Arguing that “national literatures have
traditionally been understood as reflections of the unique character and
experiences of the nation” (1), Corse proposes “an alternative, more
sociologically informed understanding of national literatures that incorporates
arguments about variations in cultural use, the relationship between production
context and cultural context, and the identity formation process of the nationstate” (4). Her use of the United States as a comparative test case enabling
definition of a distinctive Canadian difference complements the work of these
other texts, but unlike her they employ a trope-based rhetoric resistant to
sociological modes of measurement. In noting this congruence of concern
expressed through a disparity in rhetoric the point is not to make a value
judgment about the relative merits of one text against another, but rather to
plead for more openness to different modes of academic address and a broader
concept of what constitutes admissible evidence.
Corse’s attention to the institutionalization of literature through canon
construction and its relation to the construction of national identity is
interesting, but it is far from exhausting the potential of an analysis of “the role
literature plays in the making of the nation and the sustenance of a peculiar ideal
of national cultural distinctiveness” (167). Her focus on canon-formation
highlights the limited interest in this topic in the other texts examined here, each
of which works to undermine or expand traditional notions of a national canon.
The distinctions Corse draws between the high literary text’s traditional role in
confirming national identity and the popular text’s role in denying it through its
constitution as a mass market commodity of global reach are echoed as a
troubling conundrum in New’s study, which finds the vision of an increasingly
post-national world, celebrated in Corse, much more distasteful. Corse writes
complacently of the “globalization of high culture within a new transnational
social world” and argues that “[w]ithin the currently dominant perspectives in
literary theory, the historical construction of the narrative of nationalism and
literature no longer makes sense” (162). The other books examined here prove
this judgment is only partially true and may be too hasty. As Ravvin implies, in
calling for “a transcultural reading of Jewish Canadian literature, which would
provide a clear sense of the peculiarities of its reception and of its entanglement
with Canadian culture” (158), the transnational, the transcultural and the global
are not identical, nor are interrogations of national entanglements necessarily
to be confused with nationalism.
Like Corse, Ziff and Rao employ a social scientific language that attempts to
sort and quantify, but they include a range of voices in their anthology, which
they conceive as a kind of colloquium. They begin their introduction with a
contentious Canadian definition of cultural appropriation (taken from the
250
Rethinking the Nation in Global Contexts
Resolution of the Writers’ Union of Canada, approved June 1992) and proceed
to place it within a multidimensional global context. They provide an
interesting diagram that maps “A Structural Representation of Cultural
Transmission: Appropriation or Assimilation?” followed by a textual
elaboration of its implications. In their analysis, literature is one among many
“sites of contestation and mediation” (6). Sections on music, art and narrative,
colonial and postcolonial discourse, popular culture, scientific knowledge and
tangible cultural property include significant Canadian content and major
essays by a range of Canadian writers, including Lenore Keeshig-Tobias,
Rosemary J. Coombe, M. Nourbese Philip, Kwame Dawes, Joane CardinalSchubert and Jonathan Hart. The book concludes with a helpful bibliography
on cultural appropriation.
The publication of these three texts (by Ziff and Rao, Corse, and Bracken) by
major American and British publishers, suggests that Canadian cultural
criticism is now becoming a global affair, while literary criticism remains a
national enterprise, usually requiring government subsidy. The implications of
such shifts remain to be examined.
251
Peter Klaus
Genèse d’une littérature latino-américaine au
Canada et au Québec?
La chaleur moite d’autrefois n’existe plus que dans ma
mémoire. Ici les fleurs de givre couvrent les vitres d’une
dentelle épaisse, grise...
Sergio Kokis, Le Pavillon des Miroirs, p. 18.
Dans son recueil de nouvelles au titre évocateur « Les aurores montréales »
(Montréal : Boréal 1996), Monique Proulx fait un geste significatif en direction
de cette nouvelle réalité que sont les imaginaires métissés, phénomène qui se
manifeste depuis quelques années dans la littérature canadienne de langue
anglaise aussi bien que dans la littérature québécoise. En effet, Monique Proulx
dédie cinq de ces textes sous forme de lettre à cinq groupes de minorités (plus ou
moins « visibles ») au Québec. Trois textes sont nommément dédiés, le premier,
à Ying Chen (titre: « Jaune et blanc »), le deuxième à Marco Micone (« Rose et
blanc »), le troisième à Dany Laferrière (« Noir et blanc »). L’ensemble du
recueil est vaguement encadré par deux textes, dont le tout premier, intitulé
« Gris et blanc », évoque une destinée d’immigré latino- américain et l’un des
derniers, intitulé « Rouge et blanc », évoque Aataentsic, mère de l’humanité,
allusion à la mythologie amérindienne et plus particulièrement huronne. [Ce
texte se termine par la phrase : « Aide-moi, ô Aataentsic, à demeurer un être
humain. », p. 196.]
Monique Proulx, auteure entre autres du roman « Homme invisible à la
fenêtre » (Montréal : Boréal 1993), est, à ce que je sache, la première écrivaine
québécoise à évoquer aussi explicitement tout l’éventail composite (ou
faudrait-il dire hétérogène?) de la société québécoise, l’éclatement identitaire
dans la littérature québécoise et la contribution de plus en plus remarquée (et
souvent remarquable) des écrivains d’origine autre que « pure laine » ou « de
souche ». Montréal, cette nouvelle Babel, est l’endroit de tous les métissages.
La naissance d’une parole immigrée ou d’écriture migrante oblige le lecteur à
revoir avec d’autres yeux son petit univers et à redéfinir l’exotisme1. Et c’est
justement dans « Babel, prise deux, ou nous avons tous découvert
l’Amérique », que Fatima, l’héroïne du roman de Francine Noël, s’inquiète de
l’intégration des néo-Québécois (et aussi de l’avenir de la langue française)2.
Mais est-ce qu’on souhaite vraiment au Québec l’intégration d’une véritable
littérature venue d’ailleurs?
Le Canada et le Québec ont accueilli les premières vagues d’immigration
massive de Latino-Américains suite à la chute d’Allende en septembre 1973 et
à l’installation d’une dictature militaire. Environ 40 000 Chiliens ont ainsi
IJCS / RIÉC
atterri au Canada, dont 8000 au Québec, et là surtout à Montréal. Le groupe des
Chiliens est devenu de loin le plus important et le plus actif parmi les réfugiés
latino-américains3. Leur nombre a par la suite été grossi par de nombreux
Argentins, Salvadoriens, Nicaraguayens, Guatemaltèques et Péruviens4. Pour
saisir l’impact particulier de l’immigration latino-américaine, il faudrait tenir
compte de ce qui suit, car par rapport aux autres immigrés les LatinoAméricains ont ceci en commun :
1) à l’exception des Brésiliens, ils parlent et écrivent tous la même
langue : l’espagnol.
2) le gros des immigrés latino-américains est constitué de réfugiés
politiques. Ils appartiennent pour une très grande partie à la
gauche politique de leurs pays respectifs où ils avaient été
engagés politiquement et socialement. Par conséquent, ils ont
copieusement souffert des différentes dictatures militaires et des
guerres civiles. Nombre d’entre eux ont sciemment choisit le
Québec à cause de sa langue et de sa culture. [À quelques
exceptions près, ils s’assimilent au groupe francophone, mais ils
continuent à écrire d’abord en espagnol ou dans les deux
langues, le français et l’espagnol.]
3) un autre trait commun qu’ils partagent, c’est le prestige,
l’importance et le haut niveau des arts et particulièrement de la
littérature dans leurs pays d’origine. Lake Sagaris pense qu’une
économie sous-développée comme celle de nombreux pays de
l’Amérique du Sud ne résulte pas forcément en une culture
arriérée5. Dans ce contexte, elle cite à titre d’exemples les deux
prix Nobel attribués à deux auteurs chiliens : Pablo Neruda en
1971 et Gabriela Mistral en 1945. Gabriela Mistral a été la
première femme et la première auteure latino-américaine à
obtenir cette distinction. De nombreux immigrés latinoaméricains avaient déjà été des écrivains connus dans leur pays,
fait qui n’est pas sans importance pour leur évolution ultérieure
dans l’exil canadien ou québécois, car la littérature ainsi produite
s’insère dans une longue tradition.
Dans les années 1970, le genre littéraire favori des auteurs latino-américains en
exil a d’abord été la poésie. [La même constation vaut pour le début de l’écriture
haïtienne des années 1960 à Montréal.] Depuis, Hugh Hazelton6 parle d’une
véritable littérature latino-québécoise. Que s’est-il passé? À présent une
quarantaine d’écrivains latino-américains installés à Montréal proposent tout
l’éventail des différents genres littéraires à commencer par la poésie et en
passant par les genres brefs, le roman, le polar, les livres pour enfants et le
théâtre (performance theater) d’Alberto Kurapel. Dès 1978, les écrivains
chiliens exilés se sont donné une plate-forme littéraire avec le magazine
littéraire Literatura chilena en el Exilio domicilié d’abord en Californie. De
nombreux écrivains se sont fait connaître ainsi. Ce n’était qu’un début. Des
associations se sont créées, dont surtout la « Chilean Association of Montreal/
Association chilienne de Montréal » et la « Ottawa Chilean Association ». Cette
association crée en 1978 la maison d’édition Cordillera qui publie en 1982 la
première anthologie de littérature chilienne au Canada7.
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Genèse d’une littérature latino-américaine
au Canada et au Québec?
Des journaux hispanophones tels le Toronto Latino à Toronto et El Correo à
Montréal contribuent également à la connaissance et à la diffusion de la
littérature latino-canadienne voire latino-québécoise. Ils sont épaulés par deux
magazines littéraires hispanophones Sur (dir.: Tito Alvarado) et La Botella
Verde (éd.: Jorge Cancino) publiés à Montréal. À cela s’ajoutent des activités
de toutes sortes, lectures, rencontres, semaines interculturelles, ouverture de
librairies spécialisées dans le livre hispanophone, des petites maisons
d’édition, etc. Des anthologies se publient à Montréal et en français pour faire
connaître d’un côté des écrivains latino-américains installés au Québec ou pour
familiariser le lecteur québécois avec l’Amérique latine par le truchement de la
poésie8. Vu le caractère souvent éphémère de telles activités, je ne pourrai pas
certifier que toutes ces indications concernant les revues et maisons d’édition
soient encore valables aujourd’hui. Ainsi, je sais depuis quelques jours que la
revue Ruptures, que j’ai citée plus haut, a dû cesser ses activités entre temps.
Les premiers échantillons de prose chilienne créée (écrite) au Canada ont été
publiés en 1980 dans un numéro spécial du Canadian Fiction Magazine. Le
Chili avait depuis longtemps fasciné les écrivains canadiens. Peut-être à cause
du prix Nobel Pablo Neruda, peut-être aussi parce que certains croient décéler
entre les deux pays de nombreux points communs, à l’exception bien sûr de la
dictature. Mais d’après le poète Lake Sagaris c’est justement la dictature de
Pinochet qui renforce « ...the greatest exchange of Chilean and Canadian
experience in the history of both countries »9. Car certains écrivains canadiens
ont continué à s’assurer une présence au Chili de la dictature. À titre
d’exemple : le voyage de Gary Geddes, Pat Lane, Lorna Crozier et de Mary Di
Michele à Santiago en septembre 1987 aura été le dernier épisode d’une
odyssée de 25 ans de poésie canadienne au Chili. Une réaction significative de
la poétesse italo-canadienne de Montréal Mary Di Michele : pour elle, le côté le
plus exotique chez les Chiliens est que la poésie est leur dialecte naturel10.
L’expérience de ces écrivains canadiens et l’exil vécu par leurs homologues
chiliens au Canada a eu des résultats concrets : une anthologie bilingue
(espagnole-anglaise) intitulée Chilean Writers in Canada, éditée par Naín
Gomez en (1982) et un numéro double du Canadian Fiction Magazine dédié
aux écrivains latino-américains au Canada (1987). Sur les treize écrivains
présentés, huit étaient Chiliens. Dans sa préface, l’éditeur du Canadian Fiction
Magazine, Geoffrey Hancock précise que : « this issue of Canadian Magazine
Fiction asks that these writers be considered part of the revolution within
contemporary Canadian literature and thought. How can we read these fictions
within a Canadian context? How do these writing affect our “reading” of
Canadian fiction and criticism? »11. Ce n’est certainement pas un hasard si
Lake Sagaris a intitulé deux de ses articles « The Chile-Canada Connection, or,
The Future of Fiction » (Canadian Fiction Magazine, 67/68, 1989) et
« Countries like Drawbridges: Chilean-Canadian Writing Today ». Ce dernier
étant publié dans un numéro spécial de la revue Canadian Literature/
Littérature Canadienne 142/143, 1994 intitulé « Hispanic-Canadian
Connections ». Les aspects et problèmes abordés par Sagaris et Hancock
concernent, certes, le Canada anglais, mais ils concernent également le
Québec. La révolution dont parle Hancock a lieu au Québec aussi. Et un des
catalyseurs — si j’ose dire — est le Chili et les écrivains chiliens en exil. Car le
255
IJCS / RIÉC
Chili est devenu pour le Canada entier un jalon sur le chemin vers une
identification avec les victimes du monde entier, une préoccupation qui
s’exprime souvent dans la lutte pour les droits de la personne. Selon Sagaris,
cette implication réciproque a contribué à renforcer la démocratie canadienne.
Par ailleurs, la situation de l’exilé a rendu possible la genèse d’une littérature
dite engagée, impossible dans les pays des dictatures. Un exemple : Pièges,
roman de Gloria Escomel, publié en 1992 à Montréal (Boréal), peut être
considéré comme une sorte de littérature de combat contre les dictatures et
contre la désinformation de l’opinion publique. L’auteure, née à Montévidéo
(Uruguay), a réalisé plusieurs reportages en Uruguay, au Chili et en Argentine.
Dans son roman, elle fait l’apologie de la démocratie, du militantisme et du
devoir social.
La Chilienne Marilù Mallet, quant à elle, a largement travaillé dans ses deux
recueils de nouvelles, publiés à Montréal (écrits d’abord en espagnol et publiés
ensuite en français en 1981 et en 1986), les angoisses des persécutés, la torture,
la mort et l’exil. Les titres de ces recueils : Les Compagnons de l’horlogepointeuse (1981) et Miami Trip (1986). Elle a surtout évoqué dans son
deuxième recueil la situation de l’exilé face à son pays-hôte, son déracinement
culturel et linguistique. L’intégration de l’immigré latino-américain (ou
polonais en l’occurence) est rendue difficile à cause des tares du passé et des
obsessions cauchemardesques qui se reflètent même jusque dans
l’apprentissage de la langue du pays d’accueil, outil indispensable de
l’intégration. Ainsi dans « La mutation », nouvelle au titre vaguement
kafkaesque, l’auteure confronte le lecteur à la situation d’une famille
d’immigrés latino-américains à Montréal. Pour faciliter l’intégration
linguistique et culturel de Pepito, leur garçon de trois ans, les parents
l’inscrivent dans une garderie francophone. Mais quelle n’est pas leur surprise
lorsqu’ils constatent deux ans plus tard que Pepito ne produit que des sons
nasillards et incompréhensibles. Ils consultent différents médecins qui
émettent des diagnostics savants l’un plus déconcertant que l’autre. Selon l’un
des médecins les troubles constatés chez le garçon seraient dus à des
traumatismes prénatals, selon l’autre ce seraient les conséquences des tortures
et électrochocs subis par le père sous la dictature dans son pays d’origine. À cela
s’ajoutent d’autres éléments : les parents sont bruns tous les deux, mais Pepito
est blond et a un pied déformé. Résultat : les époux commencent à se disputer la
responsabilité et la faute, voire la culpabilité. Mais la solution s’avère beaucoup
plus souriante que ce scénario pour ainsi dire kafkaesque : dans la garderie
francophone qui en vérité est plurilingue et multiethnique, donc un fidèle reflet
de la société montréalaise, Pepito s’est lié d’amitié avec un petit garçon dont la
langue maternelle est le hongrois. Il a donc appris le hongrois, « [c]ette satanée
langue nasillarde »12. Conclusion de cette nouvelle : l’apprentissage des
langues étrangères est valorisé, on lui attribue une fonction sociale importante,
une sorte de voie royale du succès.
Alberto Kurapel, le Chilien de Montréal (il y vit depuis les années 1970), qui a
marqué de son empreinte la scène théâtrale québécoise, a une autre conception
de l’exil et de l’intégration. Son outil est le théâtre, il a fondé en 1981 à Montréal
La Compagnie des Arts Exilio. La préoccupation de l’exilé avec sa situation
256
existentielle devient ainsi son programme. Alfonso de Toro appelle le théâtre
de Kurapel : « Théâtre multimédia interspectaculaire post-moderne »
(Humanitas-Nouvelle Optique). Kurapel lui-même se sert dans ses spectacles
simultanément des deux langues, l’espagnol et le français. La langue ou plutôt
les langues deviennent chez lui les problèmes clés de l’exil et de l’exilé.
Lorsque dans ses spectacles chaque texte est dit en espagnol et en français sans
transition, cela représente selon lui la véritable situation de l’exil et de l’exilé,
c’est-à-dire « une conscience fragmentée »13. Il décrit son théâtre comme une
« Latin American Performance of Exile »14, la perfomance théâtrale elle-même
définie comme une sorte d’exil15.
L’exil constitue bien sûr une préoccupation centrale de toute littérature
immigrée. Une façon originale de saisir ce phénomène a été réalisée avec
succès par Sergio Kokis. Peintre et psychologue d’origine brésilienne, Sergio
Kokis — après un passage par Paris — vit au Québec depuis une vingtaine
d’années. Son premier roman Le pavillon des miroirs, publié en français en
1995 à Montréal (XYZ éditeur) a connu d’emblée un succès inégalé depuis. La
même année le roman de Kokis a raflé quatre prix littéraires (Grand Prix du
Livre de Montréal, 1994; Prix de l’Académie des Lettres du Québec, 1994; Prix
Québec-Paris, 1995; et Prix Littéraire Desjardins du Roman, 1995),
phénomène jamais vu jusqu’ici et qui mérite toute notre attention. Car ces prix
honoraient non seulement un beau roman mais aussi toute cette génération
d’immigrés qui contribuent au façonnement et à la métamorphose de la
littérature québécoise en y ajoutant leur grain de sel.
Sergio Kokis nous présente un récit à deux fils, l’un alternant avec l’autre : le
premier retrace le passé du jeune narrateur qui grandit à Rio de Janeiro dans des
conditions assez rocambolesques, le deuxième est plutôt centré sur la réflexion
d’un peintre exilé dans un pays du Nord qui n’est pas nommé mais que l’on
devine être le Québec. Le récit tropical riche en couleurs, une sorte de roman
initiatique, est ponctué de réflexions sur le destin de l’exilé et sur la fonction de
la langue. Je me contenterai de quelques remarques et citations pour préciser la
démarche de Kokis. Le narrateur du roman a ainsi été confronté au Brésil aux
problèmes de langue qui n’étonneraient pas le Québécois d’aujourd’hui. C’est
ainsi que le père du narrateur lui vante les mérites de l’anglais qu’il associe à la
réussite et à la modernité (p. 86). Selon le père même les immigrants peuvent
réussir à partir de rien, même s’ils ne sont pas Américains (p. 119). Un autre
élément qui rapprocherait le Brésil du Québec d’une certaine façon, c’est la
religion. Pour la mère du narrateur « les choses de la religion, c’est comme
l’anglais pour mon père : la clé de la réussite » et le narrateur d’ajouter :
« [h]eureusement mon père n’aime pas les curés. Il est protestant, il n’aime pas
les pasteurs non plus, ni rien qui traite de la religion (p. 90).
Pour revenir aux problématiques de la langue de l’immigré, le narrateur de
Kokis constate que l’immigré n’a de langage que celui qu’il emprunte (p. 70).
Être exilé dans une langue, dans sa langue, voilà l’expérience du narrateur qui
précise que lorsqu’il allait encore à l’école au Brésil, les langues étrangères lui
paraissaient pleines de promesses et propres à dévoiler l’inconnu (p. 167).
Avant de faire ses propres expériences en tant qu’exilé, il se souvient qu’il
s’était déjà étonné d’entendre « les vieux oncles de mon père, séniles, ravagés
257
IJCS / RIÉC
par l’alcool. Ils avaient perdu leur langue d’adoption, et ne parlaient désormais
qu’un mélange de letton et d’allemand parsemé d’injures ou d’obscénités bien
tropicales » (p. 282). Ce qui l’amène à dire que dorénavant il pense toujours
dans une langue étrangère : « [p]arce que avec le temps elles se sont toutes
mêlées. Ça devient une sorte de traduction, parfois fiction ou tricherie »
(p. 280). Au début, il se sentait comme un animal exotique dans un zoo. Je cite :
« sachant que je viens de là-bas, ils [les visiteurs dans son atelier] bifurquent sur
le carnaval ou la samba ... Les belles plages, hein? ... Les tristes tropiques. J’ai
déjà passé une semaine à Acapulco, ou en Jamaïque, ou à un Club
Méditerranée, je ne m’en souviens plus. ... Que répondre? Leur casser la
gueule, me mettre à faire quelques pas de samba, ou violer sur-le-champ la
femme du visiteur ... C’est un dur métier l’exil ... » (p. 48). Sa conclusion est
plus conciliante lorsqu’il constate qu’on est toujours l’étranger de quelqu’un,
même si on ne le ressent pas. « Au travail, dans la rue, je m’amusais à mon petit
jeu, protégé désormais par l’uniforme impersonnel de l’immigration. » (p. 302)
J’ai cité ces quelques exemples du Pavillon des miroirs de Sergio Kokis pour
démontrer de quelle façon l’imaginaire d’un écrivain venu du Sud peut apporter
des éléments à la compréhension de cette révolution littéraire dont il a été
question plus haut. Lorsqu’on voit tout l’éventail de la production littéraire
latino-américaine du Québec, (et du Canada) on constate à quel point son
apport est significatif dans le sens où elle contribue à une meilleure
compréhension de l’Autre. Les éditeurs du Québec l’ont compris. Ils ouvrent de
plus en plus leurs collections à des écrivains latino-américains, par exemple vlb
éditeur qui a publié entre autres un roman policier écrit d’abord en espagnol
argentin. L’auteur s’appelle Pablo Urbanyi, un Argentin d’origine hongroise et
écartelé entre la vieille Europe et une Amérique guère trop latine puisqu’il
habite désormais à Ottawa. Son deuxième roman s’intitule « Un revolver pour
Mack » (Montréal: vlb éditeur 1992), c’est une parodie du polar classique qui
entend démystifier le roman de Série noire, tout en lui rendant hommage. La
contribution des auteurs chiliens, du brésilien Sergio Kokis et finalement du
Hongro-Argentin d’Ottawa nous donne une idée de la richesse du Québec et du
Canada en matière littéraire. Surtout lorsqu’on apprend que dans leurs pays
d’origine on est très intéressé à connaître la littérature latino-américaine de la
diaspora, qu’il existe entre temps des co-éditions entre le Québec, le Canada et
le Chili et que la diffusion des livres des écrivains est par exemple assurée par
une maison d’édition de Santiago de Chile. Cette coopération est facilitée aussi
par quelques écrivains qui sont retournés dans leur pays depuis le
rétablissement de la démocratie.
Il ne reste qu’un « détail », mais qui est de taille : c’est l’acceptation et la
réception de cette littérature. Monique LaRue, dans une conférence intitulée
« L’arpenteur et le navigateur »16 fait justement le procès de ces écrivains
québécois qui voient d’un mauvais œil l’émergence d’une littérature immigrée.
Elle critique surtout la jalousie presque mesquine par rapport aux prix littéraires
décernés à des œuvres d’écrivains immigrés. D’après elle, certains écrivains
québécois voient la littérature québécoise menacée dans son homogénéité par
les écrivains immigrés. Cette attitude ne tient apparemment pas compte de
toute l’évolution de la littérature québécoise depuis les années 1980. Où en
serait la littérature québécoise aujourd’hui sans les Emile Ollivier, Marco
258
Micone, Gérard Étienne, Ying Chen, Sergio Kokis et Alberto Kurapel, sans la
poésie d’un Anthony Phelps, d’un Joël des Rosiers ou d’un Saint-John Kauss?
Certains de ces auteurs immigrés figurent depuis quelques années déjà dans
plusieurs anthologies de la littérature québécoise.
Je terminerai par cette citation de Leandro Urbina, romancier chilien de
Montréal, qui répond lorsqu’on lui pose la question de l’identité de l’exilé :
I don’t think writers have much identity [...]. Not like politicians who
live on it. What is really important is to have an editor.17
Notes
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.
10.
11.
12.
13.
14.
15.
16.
17.
C. Potvin, in Lettres québécoises, no 76, 1994, p. 32.
C. Champagne, in Lettres québécoises, no 61, 1991, p. 21-22.
On inclut souvent l’Haïti dans la sphère latino-américaine. Je n’inclurai pas dans mon laïus
la création littéraire haïtiano-québécoise; à remarquer seulement qu’à l’heure actuelle
encore la moitié au moins de la production littéraire haïtienne provient de la diaspora, dont
une bonne partie de Montréal. Par contre, je comprendrai par latino-québécois tout immigré
venu d’un pays d’Amérique centrale ou d’Amérique du Sud.
H. Hazelton, 1991, p. 22.
L. Sagaris, in Canadian Fiction Magazine, 67/68, 1989, p. 239.
H. Hazelton, 1993, p. 1.
Jorge Etcheverry, 1988, p. 55 et 62.
Je citerai à titre d’exemple :
Tito Alvarado et alii, La présence d’une autre Amérique. Anthologie des écrivains latinoaméricains du Québec. Montréal : Les Éditions de la Naine Blanche 1989.
H. Hazelton and Gary Geddes (éds.), Compañeros. An Anthology of Writings about Latin
America. Dunvegan, Ontario : Cormorant Books 1990.
L. Sagaris, in Canadian Literature, 142/143, Fall/Winter 1994, p. 13.
M. Mallet, « La Mutation », in Miami Trip, 1986, p. 54.
M. Gomez, « Infinite Signs. Alberto Kurapel and the Semiotics of Exile », in Canadian
Literature/Littérature Canadienne, p. 41.
M. Gomez, op. cit., p. 39.
A. de Toro, Alberto Kurapel, le Guanaco gaucho, p. 17.
M. LaRue, « L’arpenteur et le navigateur », p. 17.
L. Sagaris, Countries like Drawbridges, p. 18.
Bibliographie
Christine Champagne, « Des cahiers comme preuve d’existence. Regards sur l’intimité comme sur
le quotidien, les romans de Michèle Mailhot et Francine Noël laissent d’abord parler le
“je” », in Lettres québécoises, numéro 61, printemps 1991.
Jorge Etcheverry, « Chilean Literature in Canada between the Coup and the Plebiscite », in
Canadian Ethnic Studies/Études ethniques canadiennes, XXI, 2, 1989.
Mayte Gomez, « Infinite Signs. Alberto Kurapel and the Semiotics of Exile », in Canadian
Literature/Littérature Canadienne, 142/143, Fall/Winter 1994.
Hugh Hazelton, « La littérature latino-québécoise en plein essor », in Impressions, 10, 1991.
Sergio Kokis, « Le Pavillon des Miroirs ». Montréal : XYZ éditeur, 1995.
Alberto Kurapel, « Le langage de l’exil », in Exil et Fiction, sous la direction de Gina Stoiciu et
Axel Maugey. Montréal : Humanitas-Nouvelle Optique, 1992.
Monique LaRue, « L’arpenteur et le navigateur ». Montréal : Éditions Fides et CÉTUQ. Centre
d’études québécoises — Université de Montréal, 1996.
Marilù Mallet, Miami Trip. Montréal : Québec/Amérique, 1986.
Claude Potvin, « La nouvelle comme exercice de style », in Lettres québécoises, numéro 1976,
hiver 1994.
Lake Sagaris, « The Chile-Canada Connection, or, The Future of Fiction », in Canadian Fiction
Magazine, 67/68, 1989.
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Lake Sagaris, « Countries like Drawbridges. Chilean-Canadian Writing Today », in Canadian
Literature/Littérature canadienne 142/143, Fall/Winter 1994.
Alfonso de Toro, Alberto Kurapel, le Guanaco gaucho. Carta de ajuste ou nous n’avons plus
besoin de calendrier. Théâtre. Montréal : Humanitas-Nouvelle Optique, s.d.
260
Anne Whitelaw
Nationalism and Globalization: Exhibitions and
the Circulation of Objects
The juxtaposition of nationalism and globalization as theoretical terms
highlights the multiple ways in which we inhabit and make sense of the world.
Particularly as Canadians, living so close to what might be termed the originary
source of global culture (the United States), the need to maintain a clearly
defined sense of the “national” is an important part of our everyday, “lived”
experience as we monitor the fate of the dollar and the effect of shifts in the U.S.
economy on Canadian jobs. On the cultural front, concerns about cultural
sovereignty, which have been at the root of Canadian cultural and
communication policy since the 1920s, manifest themselves in the increase in
Canadian content on public airwaves and in the boasts we all make about the
number of Canadian pop stars who have “made it” on the international (viz.
“American”) scene. This last somewhat flip example nevertheless points to the
nature of the ties that link the national to the global within the Canadian context,
particularly the way in which our experience of the global is rooted in a specific
sense of place. In emphasizing these links, and putting forth an argument that
seeks to locate national identity within (rather than in opposition to) the
increasingly visible processes of globalization, this paper underscores the
relational nature of the connection between the national and the global. For
something to be defined as national, or as exhibiting national characteristics, it
must occur in relation to, or in the context of, somewhere else. In other words,
for Céline Dion to have significance as a “Canadian,” she must achieve success
elsewhere, and in such a way that her national identity is irrelevant: it is only by
losing one’s “nationality” that one can truly find it.
We will examine this relationship between the national and the global through
two exhibitions on display during the summer of 1997. Any number of
exhibitions could have provided an equally interesting focus for the exploration
of the relational nature of these terms, but the selected exhibitions, small in
scale and of varied duration, are interesting for their comments not only on
current relations of nationalism and globalization, but on the changing nature of
that relationship over the past few decades. The first exhibition took place in
Montreal this past summer and celebrated the 30th anniversary of Expo 67.
Under the curatorial guidance of Robert Fortier, Yesterday’s Tomorrow was an
exhibition of photographs of Expo pavilions at the Canadian Centre for
Architecture. The second exhibition is titled Souvenirs, and has been on display
at the Canadian Museum of Civilization as a seemingly permanent temporary
exhibition for a couple of years. Organized by curator Peter Ryder, the
exhibition brings together a series of “souvenir objects” which commemorate
significant events from Canada’s history. Both the souvenirs and the Expo
IJCS / RIÉC
exhibitions explore the meaning of national identity (which we will for the
moment qualify as “Canadian”), but they do so through very different
conceptions of the mechanisms through which the national is articulated as the
global. They also, perhaps by necessity, have very different attitudes toward
cultural artefacts, and the kind of meanings that artefacts (and exhibitions) can
convey about the processes of nationalism and globalization within the
Canadian context.
The question of national identity has long been a central theme in Canadian
cultural politics. In recent years, the problematic task of defining Canadian
culture, of finding a unitary or homogeneous thread that would identify a visual
and cultural vocabulary, has been challenged not only from the theoretical
vantage-point of academic debates disputing the possibility of the singular
voice of history, but also from the increasingly obvious heterogeneity of those
communities which together constitute the national citizenry. This
heterogeneity has been recognized if not endorsed in recent federal policies that
present Canadian identity as a process of participation in the formation of
shared values, activities and love of country. The active promotion of
multiculturalim and the rhetoric of “unity in diversity” prevalent in government
documents, further underscore the impossibility of locating identity in a single,
homogeneous cultural tradition.
Seen in these arguably postmodernist terms, the current phase of globalization
does not seek to erase the specificity of national cultures. Instead, while global
mass culture in the form of movies, music and fast food covers the globe and
spawns countless national imitators, the context within which these global
movements (?) occur serves to position them as adjunct experiences of local
culture. Such a view of globalization from the standpoint of popular culture
suggests that this process is essentially the Americanization of the world, and
the reach of American-owned cultural products is striking whether one is in
Montreal, Paris or Bombay. To interpret this situation in the limited terms of
cultural imperialism, however, fails to account for the complexity of the current
processes of globalization. While “America” might be present in all parts of the
world, it is largely a visible presence on movie screens, television and
advertising billboards. And while these representations are constant reminders
of the economic power of the U.S., they exist in relation to strong and varied
manifestations of a markedly local culture. As Stuart Hall writes about the
operation of global mass culture:
[I]t is very powerfully located in the increasing and ongoing
concentration of culture and other forms of capital. But it is now a
form of capital which recognizes that it can only, to use a metaphor,
rule through other local capitals, rule alongside them and in
partnership with other economic and political elites. It does not
attempt to obliterate them; it operates through them. (1991, p.28)
For there is also a danger of confusing the global with the universal, seeing in
globalization the total erasure of difference as we seek out common elements.
This lack of correspondence between the global and the universal must be
stressed from a material as well as theoretical point of view. As a process,
globalization consists of the circulation of commodities, largely in the form of
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Nationalism and Globalization:
Exhibitions and the Circulation of Objects
the transnational exchange of information, of images and of objects. Thus, we
do not witness the construction of a universal culture covering the globe that
would normally be inherent in the notion of the universal. Similarly, from a
theoretical perspective, the concept of globalization as a process in constant
movement, enables us to overcome modernist notions of the universal which
might imply the existence of a unitary political and cultural discourse, and more
importantly, avoid the assumption that this universalizing discourse has a
single point of origin and uniformly blankets the world.
The emphasis on the relational nature of the concepts of the national and the
global, and an awareness of the linear and homogenizing trap of the universal,
also contributes to a renewed understanding of the complexity of the national.
As the nature of Canadian identity continues to be negotiated and contested,
what emerges is an experiential notion of identity where multiple
manifestations of belonging co-exist across cities, provinces and regions.
Rather than a detrimental vision of nationhood, this coexistence of identities
underscores the situationally specific nature of the process of identity
formation, particularly in terms of the relational position of any one identity at
various moments in time. As Mike Featherstone argues, we need to take into
account
[T]he perceived threat [to local cultural identity] through the
integration of the locality into wider regional, national and
transnational networks via the development of a variety of media of
communication. Here it is possible to point to the development of the
various transcultural media of interchange of money, people, goods,
information and images ... which have the capacity to compress the
time-space geography of the world. This provides contact with other
parts of the world which renders different local cultures more
immediate and the need to make them practically intelligible more
pressing. (Featherstone 1993, p. 176)
The question of time and place is crucial to the two exhibitions under discussion
here. Both address questions of the past, of nostalgia, and of the relations
between the past and the present. Because of their subject matter, both
exhibitions display inherent connections to the world as a whole, but establish
that relation with the world by insisting on the national. The remainder of this
essay explores themes emerging from these two exhibitions in terms of what
they suggested about the relationship between nationalism and globalization.
The exhibition at the Canadian Centre for Architecture, Yesterday’s
Tomorrow: Expo 67 – Movement, Forms, Space1 brings together 67
photographs from a collection assembled by former Tundra Books publisher,
May Cutler. These photographs document in a non-linear way the contribution
of Expo to the articulation of a new architectural vocabulary during the 1960s.
The exhibition’s four cases each consider Expo from a different angle: “Man
and His World: A City Without Cars,” “Geometric Shapes: Triangular Space,”
“Geometric Shapes: Between Curve and Straight Line,” and “Dynamic
Space.” Each case contains photographs of Expo pavilions in various stages of
construction that illustrate the specific innovations in materials and techniques
used to erect the fantastically creative buildings. As this small exhibition
demonstrates, the collaboration of architects and engineers from around the
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IJCS / RIÉC
world pushed forward the creative and technical limits of architecture and
produced a number of buildings that remain embedded in the memory of
anyone who visited Expo in 1967. The exhibition’s treatment of these
innovations in terms of their reconfiguration of the spatial—exploring the
architecture in terms of its treatment of curves, of triangular and hexagonal
building blocks, of a dynamic notion of space—demonstrates the importance
of Expo in the exploration of new architectural concepts, the best-known of
which undoubtedly remains Buckminster Fuller’s geodesic dome. While one
might have wanted (and might still want) an exhibition that explores the total
social, cultural and political phenomenon that was Expo 67, the focus on
architecture leads to interesting and surprising speculations about this period in
Canada’s national life.
In many ways considered “the Canadian year,” 1967’s celebration of Canada’s
official political autonomy signaled a new era of post-colonial independence.
With it, 1967 brought a new and more complex definition of nationhood, falling
between the recommendations of the Royal Commission on Bilingualism and
Biculturalism and the formulation of a federal policy on Multiculturalism.
Despite these efforts to broaden the boundaries of Canadian nationhood, the
late 1960s saw the publication of numerous works attempting to consolidate
Canadian culture, to formulate, in other words, a Canadian canon.2 At the
international level, the mid-1960s was the culmination of High Modernism in
architecture, with the International Style of Mies van der Rohe and others
influencing urban construction around the globe. As the CCA exhibition’s text
panels suggest, the buildings at Expo were outstanding examples of
experimentation with materials, with shapes and with new construction
techniques made possible by these new materials. The International Style
worked with an architectural vocabulary that had little concern or interest in its
surroundings, installing the gleaming glass and steel structures in the middle of
neighbourhoods dominated by nineteenth-century townhouses. That said,
there was a certain utopian feeling to the period: interested in the expression of
pure form, devoid of ornament, contextless, these buildings evoked Western
culture’s faith in modernity. It is the greatest irony that in 1967, a year of intense
national feeling and of celebrating the specificity of “Canada,” the most visible
manifestation of the Centennial—Expo 67—was composed of architectural
styles that had no connection with Montreal’s rich vernacular. A parallel
consideration can be found in the world of art where during the 1960s,
contemporary Canadian artists, having finally shed the confining artistic
vocabulary of the Group of Seven for abstraction, were enjoying international
success such that the country had not seen before.3
What makes Expo 67 particularly interesting, however, is not simply what it
says about Canadian identity, but its articulation of an emerging discourse of
Québécois nationhood. The exhibition makes the link quite explicit in its
introduction to the display cases, stating that Expo 67 was “a vibrant sign of the
new Québec, issued in by the Quiet Revolution.” The significance of Expo as a
nation-building moment in Quebec’s history centres on the international
recognition the fair bestowed upon the city of Montreal. Expo 67 thus stands as
a pivotal moment in which Quebec declared its entry into modernity, and a
264
modernity that was not limited to its relationship with the rest of Canada, but
one which was very adamantly international.
Souvenirs, the exhibition at the Canadian Museum of Civilization (CMC),
provides a different reading of the circulation of the national. Coming at the end
of the CMC’s Canadian Hall, which showcases historical tableaux of events in
Canadian history, the exhibition presents in thematic groupings objects,
postcards, photographs and other memorabilia from various Canadian events.
Included in the exhibition are a number of Centennial objects (mugs, medals
and a plastic car that once contained bubble-bath, all emblazoned with the
Centennial’s stylized maple leaf emblem). But there are also mementos from
various Jubilees and provincial Centennials; badges from Feminist and Labour
demonstrations; hats, glasses, pins and scarves that together mark the
ceremonial occasions when communities come together in celebration. That all
these events took place in Canada illustrates the breadth of occasions celebrated
across the nation and perhaps more significantly, demonstrates the diversity of
the groups, and, the crossovers between groups, celebrating the same event.
This exhibition has significance in terms of processes of globalization in its
focus on souvenirs: the material remnants of events rather than the events
themselves. By their very portability, souvenirs take a notion of place and
unearth it, disconnecting it from its rootedness and enabling the place in which
the event occurred to be re-membered in other, perhaps wholly different,
locations. Of course, the souvenir also plays with the sense of time, similarly
taking an event that took place within a particular time-period and recreating it
again and again in the future. The snapshot also has this function, creating
temporal links between the present and the experiences of the past. Unlike the
photograph, however, the souvenir has a much greater sense of presence: of
being “there” no matter where one “is.” In an almost literal sense then, the
souvenir enables us to return to the geographical “place” of the memory
regardless of where one is situated in the present.
The function of the souvenir in this sense is to represent a place, to recreate in an
object the symbolic elements that worked together to represent where one has
been. The necessity of the souvenir to represent a specific location (usually
country, province, city, building) implies the development of a symbolic
language that is able to distill a whole experience into a single image, a process
which can lead to a certain degree of stereotyping and the misrepresentation of
certain communities (most notable First Nations). As an object imbued with
affective power, however, the souvenir’s importance lies less in the images it
contains than in its representation of an experience that is located in time and
place.
The sense of place, of location, embedded within the souvenir is particularly
relevant when one considers these as physical mementos of visits to other
countries. The transnational movement of these objects becomes the locus of
their meaning as souvenirs. In their combination in the CMC’s display cases
they suggest travel: a movement out from their places of origin, through time,
space and ownership, before finding a new place within the walls of the
museum. This sense of place as shifting is recreated and questioned in the final,
interactive part of exhibition where visitors are encouraged to leave their own
265
IJCS / RIÉC
memory of the exhibition in the form of souvenir postcards. These are then
displayed so that future visitors can reflect on their own memories (literally,
“souvenirs”) of the museum visit.
Examining these two exhibitions in tandem, the difference between the
physical constituents of the displays is striking. The relative lack of physical
referents for the photographs in the Expo exhibition, with only three of the
original pavilions still standing, means that the experience of that time and
place can only occur through visual representations that jog the memory of
those lucky enough to have been present in 1967. This absence of physical
evidence is all the more interesting in an exhibition that explores Expo’s
contribution to the development of new architectural forms and materials. In
contrast to the obvious ephemeral nature of the CCA exhibition, Souvenirs
presents a more solid display of objects. However, the artefactual nature of
these objects, their representation of events that have long past, similarly
evokes the temporal limits of celebrations. What the exhibition underscores,
however, is the ability of souvenir objects to preserve the event through time,
and to maintain and to re-present the specificity of the place where the event
occurred.
The movement of these memory-objects makes these exhibitions significant in
terms of the global. While the circulation of commodities might seem to
contribute more to processes of globalization, it is our experiences and our
memories of time and place, and our ability to take those experiences and
memories with us wherever we go, that renders the idea of the global real. The
pavilions at Expo and the national celebrations whose only material remnants
are souvenir objects can no longer speak for themselves. Rather, the exhibitions
provide the narrative of these events, and render them significant to us in the
present. As Umberto Eco wrote about what he described as “that unsurpassed,
quintessential, classic World’s Fair,”
Each country shows itself by the way in which it is able to present the
same thing other countries could also present. The prestige game is
won by the country that best tells what it does, independently of what it
actually does. (p. 296)
As Canada “shows itself” to the world within the frame of these exhibitions, it
presents a narrative of the nation’s past that is predicated on the circulation and
reinterpretation of national objects and ideas on the global stage.
Notes
1.
2.
3.
266
The exhibition’s title in French – Futur antérieur – is much more suggestive of the
simultaneous looking back to past events that were in themselves forward-looking that
characterizes the exploration of the architecture of Expo 67.
See Whitelaw (Winter 1997-98) for a more in-depth discussion of Centennial publications
which attempted to formulate a Canadian cultural canon.
This shift can be seen in the current display of Canadian art at the National Gallery of
Canada: from a separate display of Canadian art from the eighteenth century to the 1960s, the
display shifts in the Contemporary Galleries (exhibiting works from the 1970s to the
present) to integrate Canadian with international artists. Please see Whitelaw (1995).
Bibliography
Eco, Umberto. “A Theory of Expositions” in Travels in Hyperreality, trans. William Weaver,
London: Picador, 1986 (originally written in 1967).
Featherstone, Mike. “Global and Local Cultures” in Jon Bird, Barry Curtis, Tim Putnam, George
Robertson and Lisa Tickner (eds), Mapping the Futures: Local Cultures, Global Change,
London: Routledge, 1993.
Hall, Stuart, “The Local and the Global: Globalization and Ethnicity” in Anthony D. King (ed.),
Culture, Globalization and the World System, London: MacMillan, 1991.
Whitelaw, Anne, “The Centennial Effect: J. Russell Harper’s Painting in Canada: A History,”
ACS Bulletin AEC, 19:4, Winter 1997-8.
Whitelaw, Anne, Exhibiting Canada: Articulations of National Identity at the National Gallery of
Canada, unpublished PhD dissertation, Concordia University, 1995.
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nationalism and globalization / le nationalisme et la mondialisation

Transcription

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