It’s been just over a week since Parti Québécois leader Pauline Marois was whisked off the stage mid-speech by security guards.
It’s been nine days since the suddenly empty stage appeared to catch both the jubilant premier-elect and the nation’s political reporters off-guard, while at the same time leaving confused and alarmed PQ supporters to turn to Twitter, in an attempt to figure out what had caused the abrupt interruption.
The cause was the tragic shooting death of one man. A second person remains in hospital in critical condition.
While Marois’ security officials continue to insist the premier-elect’s personal safety was never in jeopardy, others aren’t so sure. When shots are being fired six metres from where the premier-elect is speaking and the back door to the theatre is deliberately set on fire, I would be surprised if her security detail isn’t re-evaluated, if it hasn’t been already.
While Marois would eventually finish her speech, she no longer held the attention of the nation. The country’s focus had shifted to the shooting.
In the face of a tragedy, politics were forgotten.
Instead, the country was left wondering how an incident like this could even happen. What would drive an individual to risk taking the life of another fellow human being?
While I recognize that in the past there have been moments in Quebec’s political history where politics has been overshadowed by violence (October Crisis, anyone?) I have yet to understand why some individuals see these actions as an effective means of altering their political surroundings.
In Canada, we pride ourselves on the fact that we are a democratic country. A country where varying opinions are listened to, and, at least in the past, respected. We see ourselves as a nation where political change can occur peacefully and relatively frequently. It’s called democracy.
While what happened last week in Montreal is, in part, an isolated incident, it is a dark moment in both Canadian and Quebec political history.
In this country, no family should have to suffer the loss of a loved one for politics. Violence is never the answer.
As for Marois, it was supposed to be a night of celebration. It was her moment to shine in the spotlight. After decades spent in public office, this was her opportunity to address the entire country as Quebec’s first female premier-elect. A chance to re-iterate her platform points, address the entire province of Quebec, and attempt to connect with the entire Canadian population.
Instead, every clip or re-run from that night is either the Radio-Canada footage, complete with flames and the accused in his bathrobe mixed with balaklava, or Marois’ abrupt exit.
Her speech has been almost utterly forgotten; her victory, overshadowed.
Sadly, the night of Sept. 4 will forever be remembered as the evening where two families’ lives were changed forever, where emotions overpowered common sense, and where joy was suddenly overtaken by sorrow.
It was supposed to be a historic night. In the end, I guess it was. If only, it weren’t for the wrong reasons.
Kelsey Johnson,
fourth-year journalism
