"Descendre dans les rues! Take to the Streets!" Quebec's lessons for exceptional student protests

Quebecois culture has something to teach us about what it takes to make the change we need happen


"Descendre dans les rues! Take to the Streets!" Quebec's lessons for exceptional student protests

Quebecois culture has something to teach us about what it takes to make the change we need happen


The student protests Antoine Panaioti saw as a university student in Montreal were wilder than watching 8,000 people marching stark naked—and the city had shown him that, too.

Panaioti, now a philosophy professor at Ryerson, was present for Montreal's 2005 and 2012 student protests as an undergraduate and PhD student, respectively. Both began as student protests against tuition hikes. In 2011, for example, then-Liberal premier Jean Charest had proposed a 75 per cent tuition increase from $2,168 to $3,793 over five years.

By February 2012, over 60,000 students had formed a student strike. By March, over 300,000 students across the province were walking out of class. Then came May, when Charest passed several measures to get students back on campus and off the streets.

The resulting Bill 78 limited where, when and for how long Quebecers could protest and in doing so, was a direct attack on Quebec's Charter of Rights and Freedoms according to the Canadian Encyclopedia. Despite or because of the attempt to stifle protests, twice as many people turned out.

"Before that, [marches] were every four or five days," said Panaioti. "Then they became every night … we had a minimum 10,000 people—this huge snake of people—going through downtown Montreal."

Premier Charest could only attain the power needed to finally outlaw the protests through an election, which he lost to the Parti Québécois. They quickly repealed Charest's tuition hike plans and laws against protesting.

Montreal's students created a movement for more than just themselves. "It became a movement to overthrow the government," said Panaioti. "Which is effectively what happened."

A history and political culture unique from the rest of Canada has allowed Quebec students to organize the greatest student protests ever seen in the country, according to the Canadian Encyclopedia.

While Ryerson is continuously consumed in controversies over a racist statue, Quebecers were quick to dethrone and behead the statue of none less than Canada's first prime minister, John. A. Macdonald. "Quebec has a vibrant protest culture … it's not unusual for us to march," said Panaioti.

Be they recent demonstrations in solidarity with Black Lives, the outpouring of half a million people for Greta Thunberg at Montreal's 2019 climate march, or legendary student protests from years past, Quebec's protests are spectacular but not "entirely exceptional," said Panaioti.

"Being in the streets with perhaps hundreds of thousands of people seems surprising–but it's not as rare an occasion from a Quebec political culture perspective," he said.

As everything from racial injustice to affordable housing to student funding compels Ryerson students to the streets, several lessons should be taken from our peers to the east on exactly what drives an exceptional protest, said Panaioti.

Although it isn't crucial to the foundation of a good protest movement, the difference between student protests in Quebec and Ontario starts with the difference between Franco and Anglo perspectives on protest. The francophone culture which founded Quebec society values the "stereotype of protesting Frenchmen," wrote Frank Wilson in the 1994 paper "Political Demonstrations in France."

The stereotype "builds on itself," wrote Wilson. "Protest is expected; it revives revolutionary memories; it is colourful."

Quebec's appetite for secession is an example that dates back to the 1800s and demonstrates a strong sense of "national identity" within the province, said Panaioti.

Quebecers were the most likely to identify with their province before Canada itself in a 2019 study from the Environics Institute. On the flip side, Ontarians were the most likely to identify as only Canadian.

However, that Franco-national identity can lead to "ugly things," said Panaioti, like mandated xenophobia through the ban of the Muslim hijab and other religious symbols.

If a timeless yet frequently toxic regional identity can offer one thing, it's a concrete sense of solidarity. "There is a sense of being a people or being a nation, which is particularly strong amongst francophones," said Panaioti.

That inherent solidarity results in what Panaioti considers the most crucially important aspect of Quebec's protests: a critical mass of participants.

Say 200 students wanted to take Yonge Street in downtown Toronto: "You're going to be marching on the sidewalk. The cars are going to have their way," said Panaioti. The marchers he's met in Ontario have never lacked for zeal, but "when you don't have the critical mass, you have no choice but to walk the line."

To achieve a critical level of participation, Ontarian students and workers alike need solidarity as strong as Quebecers. Panaioti said there's an answer for this, as well: class solidarity.

"If you only turn [to protest] on matters of identity and communities—like gender or [ethnicity]—it'll be hard to generate a 'we.'" Although allyship for identity communities is vital for furthering their individual identity rights, a completely common and shared goal is a requirement to attract the numbers seen in Montreal's student protests, he said.

"Class is what creates cohesion across communities and across separate identities." Solidarity of class united against authorities which cut assistance like student funding or workers benefits "needs to be tapped into and revived in order to generate the kind of large-scale solidarity."

Ontario Premier Doug Ford's cuts to student funding, an impediment to a minimum wage increase and cancellation of paid-sick days for low-income workers before the pandemic are a starting point.

"People who happen to be harmed by the kinds of changes and reforms that Doug Ford has put into place happen to be those that are most concerned by systemic racism and marginalization. This is no coincidence," said Panaioti. "Various forms of injustice converge to create even greater problems for people who happen to be both poor and racialized."

Despite acknowledging COVID-19 as a fatal threat to people across the province, journalist Randall Denley said the messaging from the Ontario government to essential workers—including students—is "completely different" in an opinion piece for the National Post.

Low-income students and workers alike bear the most burden of Ford's hypocrisy, wrote Denley.

"Low-wage workers are still expected to go to their jobs at the corner store, the pharmacy or the supermarket," he wrote. "If you feel your job is too risky, you could quit, but you won't be eligible for the new Canadian Emergency Response Benefit that is giving millions of other Canadians $2,000 a month."

By calling for class solidarity against government measures and attitudes like these, Ontarian students and workers alike could catalyze radical change like that seen in 2012 in Montreal.

"The student movements in Ontario could definitely ride on the back, as it were, of what we saw this summer" in terms of protest movements for Black and Indigenous lives, said Panaioti. "To the extent that students in Ontario this summer participated, this actually creates a kind of the impetus for reviving this fight against the Doug [Ford] government … Who knows what would have happened without the pandemic."

The student protests Antoine Panaioti saw as a university student in Montreal were wilder than watching 8,000 people marching stark naked—and the city had shown him that, too.

Panaioti, now a philosophy professor at Ryerson, was present for Montreal's 2005 and 2012 student protests as an undergraduate and PhD student, respectively. Both began as student protests against tuition hikes. In 2011, for example, then-Liberal premier Jean Charest had proposed a 75 per cent tuition increase from $2,168 to $3,793 over five years.

By February 2012, over 60,000 students had formed a student strike. By March, over 300,000 students across the province were walking out of class. Then came May, when Charest passed several measures to get students back on campus and off the streets.

The resulting Bill 78 limited where, when and for how long Quebecers could protest and in doing so, was a direct attack on Quebec's Charter of Rights and Freedoms according to the Canadian Encyclopedia. Despite or because of the attempt to stifle protests, twice as many people turned out.

"Before that, [marches] were every four or five days," said Panaioti. "Then they became every night … we had a minimum 10,000 people—this huge snake of people—going through downtown Montreal."

The protesters completely upheld Montreal's downtown core.

Premier Charest could only attain the power needed to finally outlaw the protests through an election, which he lost to the Parti Québécois. They would quickly repeal Charest's tuition hike plans and laws against protesting.

Montreal's students created a movement for more than just themselves. "It became a movement to overthrow the government," said Panaioti. "Which is effectively what happened."

A history and political culture unique from the rest of Canada has allowed Quebec students to organize the greatest student protests ever seen in the country, according to the Canadian Encyclopedia.

While Ryerson is continuously consumed in controversies over a racist statue, Quebecers were quick to dethrone and behead the statue of none less than Canada's first prime minister, John. A. Macdonald. "Quebec has a vibrant protest culture … it's not unusual for us to march," said Panaioti.

Be they recent demonstrations in solidarity with Black Lives, the outpouring of half a million people for Greta Thunberg at Montreal's 2019 climate march, or legendary student protests from years past, Quebec's protests are spectacular but not "entirely exceptional," said Panaioti.

"Being in the streets with perhaps hundreds of thousands of people seems surprising–but it's not as rare an occasion from a Quebec political culture perspective," he said.

As everything from racial injustice to affordable housing to student funding compels Ryerson students to the streets, several lessons should be taken from our peers to the east on exactly what drives an exceptional protest, said Panaioti.

Although it isn't crucial to the foundation of a good protest movement, the difference between student protests in Quebec and Ontario starts with the difference between Franco and Anglo perspectives on protest. The francophone culture which founded Quebec society values the "stereotype of protesting Frenchmen," wrote Frank Wilson in the 1994 paper "Political Demonstrations in France."

The stereotype "builds on itself," wrote Wilson. "Protest is expected; it revives revolutionary memories; it is colourful."

Quebec's appetite for secession is an example that dates back to the 1800s and demonstrates a strong sense of "national identity" within the province, said Panaioti.

Quebecers were the most likely to identify with their province before Canada itself in a 2019 study from the Environics Institute. On the flip side, Ontarians were the most likely to identify as only Canadian.

However, that Franco-national identity can lead to "ugly things," said Panaioti, like mandated xenophobia through the ban of the hijab and other religious symbols.

If a timeless yet frequently toxic regional identity can offer one thing, it's a concrete sense of solidarity. "There is a sense of being a people or being a nation, which is particularly strong amongst francophones," said Panaioti.

That inherent solidarity results in what Panaioti considers the most crucially important aspect of Quebec's protests: a critical mass of participants.

Say 200 students wanted to take Yonge Street in downtown Toronto: "You're going to be marching on the sidewalk. The cars are going to have their way," said Panaioti. The marchers he's met in Ontario have never lacked for zeal, but "when you don't have the critical mass, you have no choice but to walk the line."

To achieve a critical level of participation, Ontarian students and workers alike need solidarity as strong as Quebecers to their provincial heritage. In its absence, Panaioti has the answer there as well: class solidarity.

"If you only turn [to protest] on matters of identity and communities—like gender or [ethnicity]—it'll be hard to generate a 'we.'" Although allyship for identity communities is vital for furthering their individual identity rights, a completely common and shared goal is a requirement to attract the numbers seen in Montreal's student protests, he said.

"Class is what creates cohesion across communities and across separate identities." Solidarity of class united against authorities which cut, kill or discount assistance like student funding or workers benefits "needs to be tapped into and revived in order to generate the kind of large-scale solidarity."

Ontario Premier Doug Ford's cuts to student funding, an impediment to a minimum wage increase and cancellation of paid-sick days for low-income workers before the pandemic are a starting point.

"People who happen to be harmed by the kinds of changes and reforms that Doug Ford has put into place happen to be those that are most concerned by systemic racism and marginalization. This is no coincidence," said Panaioti. "Various forms of injustice converge to create even greater problems for people who happen to be both poor and racialized."

Despite acknowledging COVID-19 as a fatal threat to people across the province, journalist Randall Denley said the messaging from the Ontario government to essential workers—including students—is "completely different" in an opinion piece for the National Post.

Low-income students and workers alike bear the most burden of Ford's hypocrisy, wrote Denley.

"Low-wage workers are still expected to go to their jobs at the corner store, the pharmacy or the supermarket," he wrote. "If you feel your job is too risky, you could quit, but you won't be eligible for the new Canadian Emergency Response Benefit that is giving millions of other Canadians $2,000 a month."

By calling for class solidarity against government measures and attitudes like these, Ontarian students and workers alike could catalyze radical change like that seen in 2012 in Montreal.

"The student movements in Ontario could definitely ride on the back, as it were, of what we saw this summer" in terms of protest movements for Black and Indigenous lives, said Panaioti. "To the extent that students in Ontario this summer participated, this actually creates a kind of the impetus for reviving this fight against the Doug [Ford] government … Who knows what would have happened without the pandemic."


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