Timing is everything, in politics as much as talking about politics.

As it happens, I had scheduled an interview with Francine Pelletier to discuss her new book, Dream Interrupted: The Rise and Fall of Quebec Nationalism, on the same day Quebec premier François Legault resigned from office.

It was an apt coincidence, given the central thesis of the book is that there is essentially a direct line from Jacques Parizeau’s “money and the ethnic vote” comment on the night of the second Quebec sovereignty referendum to the rise of Legault and his Coalition Avenir Québec. 

Pelletier makes an effective argument that the phenomenon of Legault, the CAQ, and their particular brand of ethnonationalism, though rooted in deeper cultural traditions of survival, exploited feelings of shame, guilt, and frustration experienced by the Quiet Revolution generation in the wake of the second referendum loss. 

Pelletier notes the sharp distinction between René Lévesque’s inclusive and progressive aspirations for a new Quebec, and the retrograde conservative nationalism of Legault. Though she’s not convinced another referendum is on the horizon, the impish and impudent Parti Québécois leader Paul St-Pierre Plamondon has so far demonstrated himself to be cut more from Legault’s cloth than from Lévesque’s. While Pelletier concedes the conservative nationalism that brought Legault to power will likely never go away, it is unclear whether Legault’s abrupt resignation signals the possibility of Quebec turning a page. 

Dream Interrupted is an excellent summary of recent Quebec history as viewed through the lens of the question of Quebec nationalism. Pelletier’s personal touches — there’s a considerable amount of personal reflection and elements of memoir woven throughout — make the book more engaging than a typical academic history. Pelletier addresses the undeniable fact that the question of sovereignty and nationalism in Quebec is intimately connected to a specific generation that came of age in the era of post-war prosperity, space exploration, civil rights, and decolonization. There are also the greater philosophical issues: what are Quebec’s values, what is Quebec’s soul, and is there a future for inclusive civic nationalism in Quebec? 

Though these questions merit an objective and academic assessment, it’s hard to imagine how such a discussion could even begin without first grounding them in personal experience. Dream Interrupted starts that conversation. 

mRb: What inspired you to write this book?

Francine Pelletier: I actually had done a documentary on the subject of Quebec nationalism. It wasn’t about my story at all, but about how — slowly but surely, since the first referendum – Quebec nationalism and politics changed. Essentially it has gone from progressive to conservative, even though few people like to admit it. So I felt the need to say, “this has been happening, and let me show you how.” 

That was the reason behind the documentary. And then I was approached by an editor to do a book on it and he suggested that I personalize it with my own story. So, I did.

mRb: Do you think Quebecers got tired of François Legault and the CAQ’s brand of conservative ethnonationalism?

FP: The real genius of François Legault was to have seen, and acted upon, the fact that Quebecers were very much tired of the sovereignty debate. As I’ve said endlessly in my past political life, Quebecers, French Quebecers, are profoundly nationalist, but that doesn’t mean they’re profoundly separatist, and the two failed referendums are proof of that.

When he founded the Coalition Avenir Québec, that’s what was attractive about him. He said “OK, we’ve had enough of this debate, it’s not going anywhere, we’re moving on to the real stuff, practical stuff.” He was the businessman, he was going to get the economy going again, but he wound up being discounted completely because that was the only goal the CAQ ever had. The rest of their ideas were either borrowed from the Quebec Liberals – particularly on economic matters – or from the Parti Québécois, especially language, immigration, and identity politics.

That said, I don’t think Quebecers grew tired of his nationalist policies. In fact, that’s why the Parti Québécois is well-positioned to win the next election. What’s really striking about Legault is the spectacular fall from grace he experienced. He went from being exceptionally popular – arguably more popular than even Justin Trudeau was at the height of his popularity – to being the least popular.

He ended up being a totally incompetent leader. He wasn’t a visionary, he wasn’t even much of a nationalist. He was brought into politics by Lucien Bouchard, who named him to cabinet even before he was elected, and named him education minister. And he didn’t do much as an education minister, then he creates his own party and wins the election and says that he’d do something about education and healthcare – which is what practically every politician in Canada says – and he was terrible at it.

mRb: In referencing your arrival in Montreal in the 1970s, you speak of the warmth of interactions with others – like you were returning to something familiar and familial, but also that you were being welcomed into something innately different from what you had experienced in the rest of Canada. Do you think this still exists? Would it exist for a Franco-Ontarian or Acadian today? Would it exist for a Vietnamese-Québécois? Can there be “hyphenated Quebecers” today, outside of the linguistic divide?

FP: This is the big thing that changed in Quebec, in recent decades. It was an important change that was part of the Quiet Revolution, particularly under the Parti Québécois in the 1970s, that recognized the importance of integrating immigrants into Quebec society. I mention Gérald Godin who spoke of immigrants as “precious stones” building up the walls of our country. 

It’s funny you mention Vietnamese-Quebecers because of the recent controversy over Kim Thúy. She wrote a book which was recently turned into a film [Ru], which speaks about her family’s arrival as refugees in Quebec in the late 1970s, and how they were welcomed with open arms in Granby. She’s one of our symbols of integration, and she’s recently said she wanted to leave. Perhaps Quebecers don’t want to admit that they’re not as welcoming as they’d like to believe, or maybe they don’t want to admit things have really changed here, but if Kim Thúy is saying it, well, I rest my case.  [Thúy’s comments, made during a September 2025 interview on Radio-Canada about her new play, received an exceptional backlash on social media and from populist right-wing pundits.] 

mRb: Why are referendums viewed as a setback or defeat for all Quebecers, not just those who voted in favour of sovereignty or independence?

FP: I think the close result of the second referendum left a profound psychological scar on the province. It wasn’t obvious at the time and many people didn’t see what had happened, but it cut deep. The most important thing there is to know about Quebec is that the province turned itself around in the space of about a decade. The transformation that occurred here between 1960, beginning with the election of Jean Lesage and the Quebec Liberals under the “Maîtres chez nous” slogan, to the creation of the Parti Québécois under René Lévesque in 1968, and then a PQ government eight years later… This was the culmination of a miracle that happened during the Quiet Revolution. 

An indication of this transformation is the drop in women’s fertility rates: it went from one of the world’s highest to one of the world’s lowest in twelve or fifteen years. The domination of the Catholic Church was cast aside, and a business community and a cultural community was developed within a span of twenty years. We went from being poor and not very well-educated to being modern, middle-class, progressive, and very well-educated, all within a generation. This was a considerable change. The referendums were applauding this transformation.

René Lévesque himself wasn’t much of a separatist. He didn’t have much choice but to play strong arm with the federal government, but there’s a reason why his referendum was about sovereignty-association. Even with Parizeau’s referendum, it was understood that there would be negotiation with Ottawa, and that we’d never be completely separate. It was the culmination of trying to become masters in our own house, and so when the second referendum failed, I think a lot of people interpreted that as though we were going back to who we were before the Quiet Revolution. 

mRb: Do you think there will be another referendum?

FP: It’s difficult for people outside of Quebec to understand, but having a third referendum without a degree of certainty it could be won would be psychological suicide. I suspect [Paul St-Pierre Plamondon] will renege on the promise of holding another referendum. The polls are clear that he can’t win, and with Trump’s threats against Canada, Quebecers are solidaire with Canada. Unless there’s a major political attack against Quebec, the winning conditions aren’t there, and Paul St-Pierre Plamondon would be tarred and feathered if he loses.mRb