Bloc Leader Yves-François Blanchet Is On Team Canada (For Now)

Yves-François Blanchet, leader of the Bloc Québécois, is the familiar bespectacled face of the sovereignty movement in his home province. Among non-Quebecers, he’s known mostly for his zingers: at Mark Carney (“You say you’re a negotiator—perhaps with tax havens!”), at Alberta (“I’m not certain that oil and gas qualify to define a culture”) and Canada itself (“an artificial country with very little meaning”). But since the spring, when the Bloc secured the balance of power in Parliament—and a dictator started salivating at our southern border—Blanchet, one of the country’s most reluctant members, has decided to get onside. 

Right now, co-operating with Team Canada is inarguably in the best interest of Quebec’s industries, like aluminum, which has been hit especially hard by Trump’s tariffs. But will the recent surge in feel-good nationalism—even among Quebecers—thwart the Bloc’s long-term vision (and Blanchet’s teenage dream) of a secular, sovereign solo act? He is skeptical, per usual. 

You’ve said before that you’ve sometimes felt like a member of a foreign parliament. How was the welcome this time around?

Yesterday, I went to a tribute for Irwin Cotler, a former MP and a prominent figure in human rights. I’ve never had so many people ask, “Can I take a picture with you?” They had nice things to say about my performance in the English debate during the election. That was fun because, if you look at social media, I don’t have that many English friends.

Have you noticed things becoming chummier between the parties, given everything that’s gone on lately with Trump?

We understood, as Quebecers, that we were expected to collaborate—and this truce will last as long as we face the challenge imposed by Trump. But, as I’ve said before, there were conditions to that collaboration. We will keep saying that the French language and values inherited from la Révolution tranquille define Quebec, but we also think the Bloc’s positions on many issues are as good for Canadians as they are for Quebecers. And I’m glad if that’s the case. 

On election night, a bunch of seats that usually go to the Bloc flipped in favour of a party led by a guy who rates his own French as a six out of 10. What’s your assessment of Mark Carney’s performance thus far?

Mr. Carney is a brilliant man, and the channels of communication are more open between the two of us than they ever were with Mr. Trudeau. But there is a chasm between the way he sees Canada and the way I see Quebec. The idea he’s promoting—that there is one Canadian economy instead of 13—is not true. The Maritime economies are different from Western Canada’s, and theirs are both different from Quebec’s. It doesn’t mean we can’t negotiate together against Trump but, at the end of the day, uniformity won’t serve everybody. It’ll transform Canada’s regions into colonies at the service of Ontario and the West for oil, gas, cars and steel. 

You’ve dismissed Trump’s 51st-state talk as “jibber jabber,” but what do your constituents think of him? That he’s an idiot? 

People fear him, even if Canadian politicians don’t seriously believe in the 51st-state idea; they just pretended to in order to get support. Trump is not an idiot, but he is a weird character, and the White House is now the domain of some very intelligent people. They know how to use their president for their own purposes.

I’m not going to lie: I was hoping to hear some quality Québécois insults. A couple of weeks ago, I learned the phrase “lâche pas la patate,” which means “don’t drop the potato” or “don’t give up.” Do you have a favourite Québécois saying? 

Actually, “lâche pas la patate” was popularized in Quebec by the singer Zachary Richard. He’s from Louisiana. 

An American! No!

Yes! We do have a colourful way of speaking, though. We don’t say “Fuck.” We say, “Crisse de tabarnak!” 

Some people have joked, “You know you’ve really ticked off Quebec if they’re siding with Canada!” Some newish polls have shown that the number of Quebecers who consider themselves proud to be Canadian has shot up. Unity’s great for the country, but it isn’t necessarily great for the separatist cause. Is this new solidarity bittersweet for you?

I do not believe that, deep down, Quebecers see themselves any differently than they did before this crisis. Twenty-eight per cent of us voting for a party that’s advancing the idea of sovereignty is still a lot of people. There is a trade fire to put out. Once it is, things will be different.

The recent push by the Prime Minister and premiers to knock down interprovincial trade barriers could further enmesh Quebec with the rest of Canada. Say the separatist sentiment doesn’t come roaring back—what then?

I can’t read the future. It’s not my place to say when a referendum might happen—it’s the job of the leader of the Parti Québécois. What I propose is that people keep thinking about independence. In the meantime, with the number of Bloc MPs in Parliament now, Quebecers’ interests are protected. We’ll be responsible with that power, though. We’re not here to destroy anything.

Alberta’s got the secession bug now too. You’ve said they’ll have to build a culture beyond “oil and gas” to get it done. 

I got so many messages on X from Albertans when I said that. If they hadn’t been mostly accompanied by insults, I would have enjoyed it. 

Do you think they have a chance of seceding before Quebec does?

I don’t think it will happen. Danielle Smith is just using the threat to gain leverage against Ottawa. That’s about it. It doesn’t strike me that Alberta would have its own national culture. When I was in geography class as a kid, they referred to the Western provinces as “Al-Sa-Ma,” as though they were one region. In the end, it’s Alberta’s decision. At some point, though, I should have a conversation with Ms. Smith. Regardless of whether it is an independent country or a Canadian province, it’s an absolute necessity that Alberta quits oil and gas—progressively, not tomorrow morning. The world cannot afford that toll. 

Many Canadians are only now considering who we are as a nation, rather than just defining ourselves as Not-America. You called us “an artificial country with very little meaning,” which obviously rubbed people the wrong way. Do you really believe that?

There’s the answer that the politician in me would give you, and there’s the one the anthropology student would give you. 

Let’s go with number two.

I will let Canadians decide what their own nation is, and I will ask them to do the same for Quebec. I may not be the most popular person in Canada, but I believe it’s because people don’t know me. I’m not a tough guy to discuss all of this with. And I don’t just respect the things Canadians have created; I like them. I read Robert J. Sawyer and Margaret Atwood. I’m a fan of William Shatner. I’m actually a huge Trekkie.

So you’ve watched Star Trek: The Next Generation then.

All of it. Several times.

Of the Starfleet characters, who do you think you’d be?

[Blanchet reaches behind his computer and pulls out a Jean-Luc Picard action figure.]

That’s kind of the only answer, isn’t it? 

I don’t wear pointed ears or whatever, but I do believe that the Roddenberry universe changed Western culture—one world government and all that. I watched the original series on a black-and-white TV from the time I was five years old. I’m not a very mature man. I have other figurines. 

Who else can’t I see?

Data’s here. Others are at home—some in boxes in my basement. I have Doctor Strange, Iron Man and Harrison Ford in Blade Runner. I’ve seen it so many times. I prefer Denis Villeneuve’s version to Ridley Scott’s.

Controversial. 

It’s not because Denis was born 80 kilometres from where I was. His Dune is extraordinary. 

Now that we’re talking about your early years: you joined the Parti Québécois’s Youth National Committee back in ’88. Can you recall any experiences that you had growing up that made you feel alienated enough from broader Canada to join the sovereigntist movement?

Being alienated is not a reason to do it; believing Quebec would do better for ourselves is. If you were a French Quebecer in the ’70s, you were with René Lévesque—the relationship between him and us was strongly emotional. My father was an independentist who supported him, but you have to find your own reason to believe in the movement. I was quite vocal during the first referendum, but I was only 15 or 16. When Mr. Lévesque died, I felt guilty that I had never volunteered in politics. So I wrote a letter to Le Devoir asking for Jacques Parizeau’s return to business. Within a few months, I was put in charge of the Parti Québécois’s youth wing. My first real boss was Jacques.

What was that like? 

Jacques was a giant of a man. When he made speeches, we didn’t applaud; we were listening to a teacher. I entered politics like some enter religion, then I left for a job in show business for a little under 20 years. 

Your show-business gig was running Diffusion YFB, a music management firm. Did you have any big celebrity encounters? 

In 1995, my client Éric Lapointe, a francophone singer, was invited to be the opening act for the Rolling Stones and Bon Jovi in Paris. We met Bon Jovi, but not the Stones. I had a small collaboration with Celine Dion’s manager, so people go, “Ohhh! You met Celine Dion!” Eventually, I will have to write all of this down, but there’s still as much to come as is done. I intend to live to be very old and annoying. 

Politics still has you spending lots of time on tour buses. What’s on your rider?

I have my own little fridge on the bus, but there’s nothing special in it. I drink a lot of mineral water, but there are no candies, no chips—and no beer.

Since Canadians aren’t supposed to be squandering our vacation money in the States right now, where do you plan to spend your summer holidays? As Quebec’s former minister of parks, you probably know all of the province’s best outdoor spots.

I’ve never been on vacation in the United States, so I won’t start now. Îles-de-la-Madeleine is wonderful, and I’ll go to the Laurentians and Abitibi-Témiscamingue. Since 2019, I’ve spent every summer touring the province—for me to have a real vacation without doing politics would require me to go outside of Quebec. If I went elsewhere in Canada, I might not only encounter friends. Some people would want to talk to me. They’re mostly nice, but one in 1,000 are not.

This interview has been edited for length and clarity.