Bill 101, for better or for worse, succeeded in its intended goal: preserving the French language in a francophone province dominated by English workplaces. This gave underprivileged French- speaking Quebecers the opportunity to regain their socioeconomic footholds by making French the official language of business while protecting what they believe to be an essential part of their own identity. Parti Québécois (PQ) leader Pauline Marois claims her proposed Charter of Quebec Values shares a similar noble purpose, positing that by banning public sector workers from donning conspicuous religious symbols, Quebec’s secularized society will be prevented from relapsing into a religiously-dominated state­­­ — resulting in equality for all Quebecers.

Quebec's National Assembly will vote on the proposed charter. Archer20/Flickr

Instead, it could be argued that this proposed charter is simply a distraction from the party’s continued failure to drive down dismal unemployment rates or make a dent in the massive debt and corruption miring the province of late. As an ideological piece of legislation that would reportedly be popular with almost two-thirds of the population, most see the charter as a play for votes, and nothing more.

Yet Marois continues to suggest that the charter is just as essential to the Quebec cause as Bill 101, and therefore should be accepted as such.

Looking at the effect Bill 101 had on Quebec, it is possible to predict what might become of La Belle Province should the charter come to pass. If Bill 101 caused the flight of educated professionals—faced with overhauling their English corporations to conduct business in French—from the province, then we should expect to see a similar exodus of public sector workers leaving for more tolerant provinces after the introduction of the charter. Not only would current workers be scared away, but new immigrants would likely bypass the province for similar reasons, which is a bleak prospect for an already stagnating population.

For those anglophones and allophones who remained in Quebec following Bill 101, their children were funneled through French schools — often emerging bilingual or trilingual—as the predominance and essentiality of English in Quebec had not diminished. Francophone children got a free pass, as they were able to slip through the elementary and secondary school systems without being forced to learn English although the English students were forced to learn French. Upon graduating, many underprivileged francophones suffered the same fate as their parents; as unilingual French speakers, they were unable to compete in a multilingual market. Bill 101 had essentially bred a hoard of French one-trick ponies, their language capacity hindering their success both within, and outside of, their province.

The generations to follow the passing of any Charter of Quebec Values would face the same challenges as unilingual francophones. Children raised under the new legislation would be unprepared to function in any society outside of religiously repressed Quebec. Quebec’s children would be raised to view religion as a societal threat against freedom, rather than as an enriching part of one’s culture and identity. Much as Bill 101 imposed French language laws on ethnic and anglophone minorities, the charter would evoke a similar form of repression over religious minorities.

The PQ should look to its own history as it prepares to fight for this illegal legislation—one that infringes upon the rights of expression of thousands of its citizens. Should it pass, this regressive charter would not prepare Quebec’s current and future generations for the multicultural world we live in today—save only perhaps for life in Putin’s Russia, where such legislation could be welcomed with open arms.

 

Cassandra Mazza is a second-year student majoring in english with minors in sociology and history.