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Decentralized Democracy

House Hansard - 291

44th Parl. 1st Sess.
March 19, 2024 10:00AM
Context: House Hansard - 291 - Mar/19/24
Mrs. Caroline Desbiens (Beauport—Côte-de-Beaupré—Île d'Orléans—Charlevoix, BQ)
  • Mar/19/24 7:07:33 p.m.
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Madam Chair, today is a day for timeless, non-partisan recognition that calls for tenderness and gratitude. My gratitude for Mr. Mulroney, his wife and their children is immense. I am extremely honoured to take a few minutes in the House to pay tribute to this larger-than-life human that was Mr. Mulroney. In these halls and in every mode of communication, there have been countless tributes filled with praise and accomplishments. I will humbly add a few chapters of life shared with the Mulroney family to paint a deeply human picture of this exceptional statesman who was as endearing as he was dedicated. It was fall 1984. I was a young singer-songwriter and the brand new Prime Minister of Canada and his family were expected to visit Isle-aux-Coudres as part of the famous passage of the tall ships that were sailing from Saint Malo to Quebec City. For the occasion, the islanders came together, as only islanders can, and organized a beautiful event in honour of the Mulroney family's trip to our small island. Naturally I was asked to contribute to the cultural portion of the event by singing a few songs for the famous family. At that moment, I really felt that my songs played a role, that they had some kind of impact on people's lives. Until then, I thought that people only applauded because it was just me up there singing in front of them and it was the custom to applaud. I loved singing and capturing my Quebec in song. Having people to listen was a privilege. But on that September day, the very same day that a certain Jacques Cartier named this land hundreds of years earlier, I was singing for the country's Prime Minister. I had no idea that Mr. Mulroney loved song and music, or that he liked to sing. Only seconds into my performance, I felt his deep interest in my songs, and the same from his wife and children, to the point that by the last chorus of my performance, Mr. Mulroney was already singing along with me. An understanding grew between us and music was at its core. The Prime Minister was also our member of Parliament. Other events in the riding followed, and from then on I became a fixture in the cultural component of his activities. A few years later, I was contacted by the federal government protocol office, informing me that the Prime Minister and his family wanted me to come and perform my ode to the St. Lawrence on Parliament Hill. I was received by the Prime Minister. I performed my song as we floated down the St. Lawrence, accompanied by nothing less than the RCMP symphony orchestra. It was part of the celebrations for the appointment of Ray Hnatyshyn as governor general. This was in 1990, a few days before the failure of the Meech Lake accord. As we left the island for Ottawa, my father, who followed politics closely, said to me: My daughter, go sing for your river, sing with all your heart, and hopefully one day it will be yours. Obviously, history has shown that this was not enough, for our river is slipping even further away from us, just ask Quebec fishermen. For Mr. Mulroney, culture was the soul of a people. One day, in his rich, deep voice, he said to me, “Dear Caroline, a people that is guided by its culture and that nurtures its creations is immortal.” He cared about his roots and about everything that talked about or defined Quebec and the North Shore, where he was from. Many of his legacies demonstrate his love for culture. He helped to set up a number of important cultural sites across Quebec and Canada. Unfortunately, the Harper government later turned its back on many of them. In the words our venerable colleague and the dean of the House, the member for Bécancour—Nicolet—Saurel, the party of Mr. Mulroney's time no longer exists. Regardless, in Charlevoix, we will remember that the Musée de Charlevoix, the Musée d'art contemporain de Baie-Saint-Paul, the Domaine Forget, and the Moulins de l'Isle-aux-Coudres, just to name a few, as well as all of our memorial sites, owe him a lot. I owe him all the confidence I have felt since. Thanks to his recognition and enthusiasm, the Mulroneys gave a boost to my modest career. They helped me to believe in my talent as a writer and singer. They countered my insecurity with hopes and dreams. Mr. Mulroney gave me permission to believe in myself, just like he gave Quebec permission to believe in its ability to be part of Canada as a co-founding people, deeply distinct and French and firmly independent in its vision for society. A people is like an artist, an artisan that imagines, creates, invests in himself and creates what he wants and sees as best for his progress and equilibrium. Mr. Mulroney knew that. Mr. Mulroney was an artist. Beyond his immense legacy in domestic, international and diplomatic policy, he left a legacy as immense as the St. Lawrence in the hearts of Quebeckers. Every person he met was important. He was attentive, had a phenomenal memory and an absolutely infectious, unshakeable joie de vivre. Even René Lévesque was confident in his ability to unite the two solitudes. It was clear that if he could not do it, no one could. That is why, ever since Canada's unfortunate refusal, we have been on a quest for sovereignty. We will not give up until it is achieved. This is clearer than ever, because the sad events of Meech Lake and Charlottetown dashed all of our hopes. Mr. Mulroney lost sight of his political agenda, and he too had to change course. We all know what happened next. Since then, Quebec has been sinking into false deficits caused by the federal government, and has seen the decline of its language and Quebec's weight in Parliament. Its regions are dying, and the federal government's interference in its jurisdictions is adding to its setbacks. When Mr. Mulroney left politics in 1993, I had the privilege of singing his farewell one last time. For the occasion, I took the liberty of writing a little refrain especially for him and the political life he led. It went like this: A country without its captainIs like a ship adrift upon the tideSo hear my refrain far and wide Never in our history have we had a better captain Today, for a brief moment, the family and I looked back on some of the good times we had. With a heavy heart, I mourn his loss, but I am grateful for all of the news stories and tributes that have given us an opportunity to reflect on the past and that recounted a time when speeches, commitments and actions truly meant something. We have all seen that, today, in many ways, such meaning has been undermined by considerations driven more by egos yearning for power at any price, to the detriment of what should be motivating all of us, which is serving the public. When I arrived in the House in 2019, my first thought was for my father and for René Lévesque. Today, Mr. Mulroney has joined them, and my thoughts will now also turn to him. He, too, is now one of the important people who have passed away who guide me and motivate me in politics. I am also thinking about Lise Payette and others like her who empowered women to stand up and change the world. There are still some pretty good people here. They engage in nation-building with righteousness, rationality and perseverance. Among them are the leader of the Bloc Québécois, the member for Beloeil—Chambly, my Bloc Québécois colleagues and a few of our fellow MPs, as well as our colleagues in Quebec who clearly and openly advocate for our country's independence in the National Assembly. I also look to prominent women, such as Janette Bertrand and Pauline Marois, and to the next generation, whose excitement and joy are energizing our sovereignist political organizations. They truly inspire me and give me hope. As we mourn and pay tribute to this man, I hope we can all take a step back and consider what we need to do to make today's society a safe, egalitarian and inclusive space, where we respect differences and agree to pursue policies that support the community's social and shared values, policies that naturally must be secular, as we all contribute to building a better world for our children. Politics often unites, sometimes divides and can even break fast friendships. It should never put the thirst for power ahead of the interests of the people and the survival of the planet. I suggest we all take this time to re-examine our deeply held convictions and the reasons for our commitment and open the door to something better. Let us take Mr. Mulroney's passing as an opportunity to check our egos. Look up: Righteousness is within reach. This girl from the island humbly salutes the boy from Baie‑Comeau. On behalf of all my Bloc Québécois colleagues, the people of L'Isle‑aux‑Coudres, Charlevoix, Côte‑de‑Beaupré, Baie‑Comeau, the north shore and Quebec as a whole, I extend my sincere condolences, gratitude and fond friendship to Brian Mulroney's entire family. I still have a country to strive for. I still have a country to raise up in song.
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Context: House Hansard - 291 - Mar/19/24
Hon. Seamus O'Regan (Minister of Labour and Seniors, Lib.)
  • Mar/19/24 8:32:42 p.m.
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Mr. Speaker, it is hazardous stuff, I think, for any Canadian to attempt to pay tribute to a man who eulogized two U.S. presidents, particularly a Canadian of Irish descent. Brian Mulroney did big things. When we remember the scale and the stakes of what this man took on, I think of the poor advisers in each meeting whose job it was to remind him of the risks. When we consider how deeply Mr. Mulroney loved this country, we cannot imagine he was fearless. The man had so much to lose with every decision that he made, but he was courageous. He took chances. He made gambles. He was confident in himself. He was confident in the people around him. He was confident in Canadians. He was confident in this country and, more often than not, he won big for this country. When he was asked about the Hibernia oil platform off the coast of Newfoundland and the enormous amount of federal money he put behind it, Mr. Mulroney said, “If certainty of results and the elimination of risks had been required in advance, Sir John A. Macdonald would never have proceeded with the great endeavors which bound Canada together.” People say he was born in Quebec, but that has never stopped those of us out east from claiming him as one of our own. He was a fellow ex-grad, a son of Nova Scotia and the founder of Newfoundland and Labrador's offshore. It was in a crowded hotel ballroom in St. John's on February 11, 1985, that Mr. Mulroney signed the Atlantic accord with Premier Brian Peckford. It is hard to state what that accord means to people out my way. It recognized what we, as Newfoundlanders and Labradorians, brought to this country, that the profits reaped from the resources off our shores should benefit the people of our province, first and foremost. It ended years of conflict between the federal and provincial governments over offshore rights and gave investors the stability that they needed to build a stellar energy industry. Mr. Mulroney had his critics, but he refused to buckle. “I am not afraid to inflict prosperity on Newfoundland and Labrador”, he famously said. To this day, the accord, as we call it, is like the Charter of Rights and Freedoms but for prosperity, and we have prospered. I was lucky enough to be in Premier Brian Tobin's office for first oil, and that was in 1997, a dozen years after the Atlantic accord was signed. That is the long-term vision that Brian Mulroney had, that John Crosbie had, that one needs to have in this job. That was such an important moment in the history of my province, but that moment was never a certainty. It was a fight. It was a fight for our economic future. It was a fight for the rights of provinces in this Confederation and a fight against those who doubted us, who doubted that Newfoundland and Labrador was capable of such ambition and capable of fulfilling that ambition. He never doubted us. Back in 1990, he put up $830 million in federal grants and over $1 billion more in loan guarantees to get that platform built. Then again, in 1993, with a partially built project at risk when Gulf Canada pulled out, Mulroney stepped in with an 8.5% share. Today that platform still stands as a testament to his faith, his faith in us. Mr. Mulroney always believed in the workers of my province. During COVID, he called on the federal government and on me as natural resources minister at the time to support the industry when it was reeling from the impacts of a global shutdown. “Failure is not an option”, he said, and he was right. We delivered almost $400 million to the province to support workers and to lower emissions in the industry, and then we came through with another $5.2 billion for Muskrat Falls. In the midst of everything he did for the people of our country, he still had so much time for this particular Newfoundlander. There are many of us who will tell stories in the coming days, weeks and months ahead of how this man touched individual lives because he understood people. That was the thread running through his greatness. I thank Mr. Mulroney for everything that he did for me on that day, for my province and for my country. I thank Mila, Caroline, Ben, Mark and Nicolas for sharing such a wonderful husband, father and grandfather with all of us. I admired him so much for his ambition, for his humanity, for his love of country. He had faith and he believed. He took to heart the words of the great Seamus Heaney, “Walk on air against your better judgement.” May he rest in peace.
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