The day after the 1995 referendum, you could have sworn from the media coverage that the separatists had won. “Firm rejection of the status quo is only clear result,” blared the headline on the front page of the Globe & Mail. “Canada will have to change,” wrote its Quebec correspondent, Rhéal Séguin. “No longer can Quebec be considered a province like all the others … Without major reforms, Canada’s crisis seems certain to continue.”
Devolution of powers, a constitutional veto, recognition as a distinct society, these were no longer nearly enough. The country would have to be “rebuilt along bi-national lines,” said separatist leaders, with Quebec “on an equal footing with the rest of Canada.” For their part, federalists insisted “the rest of Canada has seen the signal for change.” Now it was up to them to deliver. And if they did not? Then, all agreed, there would be another referendum, as soon as the following year.
Yeah, well, not so much. There were no constitutional changes in the years that followed, no substantial redefinition of Quebec’s relationship with the rest of Canada, not much of anything, really, beyond a couple of symbolic resolutions of the House of Commons, a bill “lending” the federal veto to Quebec (and the other regions), and the odd wad of cash. The single biggest federal initiative, rather, was the Clarity Act, laying down strict rules for federal recognition of any such referendum in future. And the result? Support for separation went into a two-decade-long nosedive, from which it shows no sign of recovering.
In this file photo, an oversized maple leaf flag marks a rally that drew crowds to Place du Canada in support of Canadian unity. (PHOTO BY GORDON BECK/THE GAZETTE)
Well now it is the turn of the United Kingdom. In the aftermath of Thursday’s not-quite-as-narrow defeat for the separatist side, many of the same things are being said. Not only are sweeping new powers for Scotland said to be in the works, but a similar devolution in favour of each of the kingdom’s constituent parts. Plus a guaranteed preferential funding arrangement, reform of the House of Lords, and who knows what else: a complete overhaul of the British constitution, transforming it from a quasi-unitary state to a North American-style federation. And all in time for the next election, nine months from now.
Good luck with that. Though the proposals, cobbled together in the last week of the campaign, were supposed to have all-party support, it became clear immediately after the event that they enjoyed no such consensus: neither on the powers to be devolved, nor to whom, nor how. There is no agreement on the process, or the players. They are making it up as they go, with calculations of partisan advantage informing the deliberations at every turn. This shows every sign of being a disaster in the making.
There’s nothing wrong with the idea of reform. Probably federalism is the way to go for the U.K., eventually. But the very worst time to be making such promises is in the heat of a referendum campaign, and the very worst reason to be doing so is to buy off a secession threat. Not only does this invite further such threats, from whatever quarter, but it must inevitably fall short of expectations. Already there are cries of betrayal and broken promises from the Yes side; these can only be expected to worsen, as the weeks and months wear on.
Supporters of the No vote in the Scottish independence referendum circle round a flare. (AP Photo/Matt Dunham)
The bungling of the No campaign has come in for considerable criticism, much of it deserved. But it’s hard to see how the result could have been much different. That is how these things generally turn out. Indeed, it is almost inevitable. The whole premise of such a vote begs a yes. If, after all, the territory in question is at the disposal of the population being consulted, such that they and they alone may decide who shall govern it and what laws shall apply within it, then they are already separate in all but name, and it remains only to confirm by their answer what is implied by the question.
There isn’t a whole lot more to it, if the truth be told. The differences — ethnic, cultural, political — to which the nationalist builds his shrine are by and large trivial. Such differences exist everywhere, but they do not always give rise to secession movements. Why, then, have they proved so virulent in Scotland, in Quebec, and a few other places? Why, given a chance, have so many people there been willing to vote Yes? Mostly, because they were asked. Because it was presented to them as an option.
Which being the case, states that do not wish to suffer dismemberment should grasp the corollary: don’t ask. Don’t hold such referendums if you can avoid it; don’t acknowledge their legitimacy if you can’t. Or if you must take part, do so strictly on your terms, to the point that most people are persuaded the whole thing is pointless. Which is more or less what we did here.
Looking back at the years prior to 1995, we seem to have been in a kind of fever in this country. We spent the better part of two decades believing that Quebec’s constitutional demands, whatever they were, had to be satisfied; and that if they were not, there was simply no alternative but to break up the country. Until eventually it dawned on us that neither of these things were true — that indeed neither was possible. And of all of us, the first to realize it were Quebecers.
This is no more than human nature. People do not typically demand things because they need them or even want them, but because they feel entitled to them. If something is dangled just in front of them, then yes, they will feel aggrieved for as long as they are denied it. But if it is never put in front of them, if it is simply not an option, they do not, as a rule, spend themselves raging futilely at its absence. They get on with their lives. And, in time, they find their lives are perfectly fine without it.
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