Narration: Since the crisis of reasonable accommodations in 2006–2007, laïcité has been central to the political debate in Quebec. Although these discussions are mainly about the place of religious symbols and practices in public life, they touch a deeper nerve in Quebec politics — which is the ever-lively concern for the cultural survival of the French Québécois nation, precarious due to its minority status in North America. Thus, in addition to focusing on the place of faith in public life, this controversy also questions the Canadian policy of multiculturalism and the way immigrants integrate into Quebec.
There are different schools of thought on both sides. And to properly understand the debate, it’s useful to consider how different ideologies intertwine and rally for or against a different policy from different philosophical starting points. There are numerous reasons that Quebecers agree or disagree with Bill 21, and the political coalition that has formed on each side is not monolithic.
Our reading of the philosophical debate borrows heavily from Guillaume Lamy’s book Laïcité et valeurs québécoises, published in 2015 after the debate over the Charter of Quebec Values. Unlike Lamy, however, we identify two schools of thought on the side opposed to the law and not just one.
Part 1: The Universalist Republicans — In Favour
Narration: The first group is the Universalist Republicans. Universalist Republicans are philosophical progressives who see their struggle for laïcité as an affirmation of Enlightenment values against the grip of religion. Inspired by France’s secularist model, they tend to be strongly atheistic and have an equal suspicion of every religion. They emphasize a vision of neutrality in which the state and its employees must not reflect any religious beliefs, which they see as a form of proselytism and as a violation of citizens’ freedom of conscience.
As Daniel Baril of the Mouvement laïque québécois has written:
“The main argument put forward by opponents of removing the crucifix can be summarized as follows. We are removing the symbols of the majority’s identity while allowing other religions to display their own. This argument holds weight only in the ambiguous context of open secularism, where, as recommended by the Bouchard-Taylor report, religious symbols are removed from public institutions — which are necessarily Christian — while allowing civil servants and government employees to display their own religious symbols, which are non-Christian. Acting in this way creates the appearance of privilege granted to some and denied to others. Hence the sense of frustration felt by many.”
In Quebec’s specific context, Universalist Republicans carry an unhappy memory of the Catholic Church and its once central and powerful role in social life. In their eyes, the church and all organized religions are power structures that oppress the freedom of action and thought of individuals, especially women. This explains why feminists of the baby boomer generation are prominent among Universalist Republicans, as well as feminists from Islamic countries who came to Quebec and left that way of life behind. Most see the rise in visibility of minority religion as a return to the so-called Great Darkness that came before the 1960s and the Quiet Revolution. Consequently, laïcité appears to them as a progressive struggle against a religious form of conservatism.
The media figure Janette Bertrand said the following during the debate over the Charter of Quebec Values:
“It is men who founded religions, and all these religions created by men are there only to put women down. We have to pay attention and be vigilant. What I’m saying is: wake up, this is dangerous. There is a danger that women will return to their previous place, and I do not want that. I have three great-granddaughters. I fought for my daughters and I do not want my great-granddaughters to go back under the domination of the church.”
To understand this perspective more, we spoke to Nadia El-Mabrouk. This interview was recorded in French, so the voice that you’ll hear next is speaking a translation of what Ms. El-Mabrouk said.
Nadia El-Mabrouk: I’m Nadia El-Mabrouk. I’m a full professor in the Department of Computer Science at the University of Montreal, and my field of research is bioinformatics. I’m a new Quebecer. I arrived in Quebec in 1997, just before the ice storm. I mention this because it captures the imagination — people can immediately picture where I’m from, and it struck me too. I actually found Quebec really beautiful, so I immediately fell in love with Quebec.
Lisa Richmond: So you recently received the Guy Rocher Award for Laïcité, which recognizes your contribution to the advancement of laïcité in Quebec. You mentioned that you became involved in the public debate around the time of the Charter of Values, presented by Minister Drainville, who was then a member of the Parti Québécois. What prompted you to get involved in this political struggle, and what form did your involvement take?
Nadia El-Mabrouk: So I started my life here, my professional career. I had my partner, children. All of that took up a lot of my time. And honestly, I wasn’t involved in politics. My children were of school age at the time. My son was in second grade, the oldest. Then at school — they were in daycare — and the more time went by, the more we saw that there were veiled teachers, the more we talked about halal, and the more they asked him to identify as Muslim. It would bother me that there was a religious dynamic at school. So when the Parti Québécois came up with this bill, I thought it was interesting. I wasn’t naïve. I could see that in Canada’s multicultural context, I didn’t see how it would pass. We were all perplexed. But I thought it was a good idea to protect schools from religious pressure. We don’t need to have religious symbols, kippot, veils, and all that in school.
So I was in favour of it. And then when I saw how the debate unfolded — how the PQ was accused of xenophobia, racism, intolerance, and all that — that’s when I saw that there were fellow citizens of the same origin as me who were standing up, who weren’t going to be fooled, and who understood that all this was giving Tunisians, Algerians, and Moroccans a bad image. And to explain that we weren’t there to set Quebec back, but that on the contrary, we were there precisely because it is a secular country that is not under religious control.
Narration: Ms. El-Mabrouk distinguishes between two forms of Islam.
Nadia El-Mabrouk: I don’t feel any hostility toward Islam, because I lived in Tunisia at a time when religion was practised in a peaceful way. I knew people who were very devout but who were also very friendly, open, tolerant, pleasant, welcoming to others, and who didn’t impose their ideas on anyone, not even their children. So I lived in a peaceful Islam. But we experienced a rise in religious fundamentalism after the fall of our presidents, who had prevented this religious hold on the state and state institutions. Did you know that during President Bourguiba’s time, the veil was banned in the civil service?
I left Tunisia. And when I returned after the revolution, I was shocked to see all these women in niqabs wearing gloves. I had never seen that in my city before — women in niqabs sitting in restaurants, then lifting their little veils to eat. Now here in Quebec, I see more and more of these veiled women. This niqab with sanitary masks, the straight veil in which you put a sanitary mask to make it look like a niqab. So I have the impression that this is a new strategy of the Islamists. It’s not just street prayers. They don’t say right away what’s in store for the people. They can conceal it — taqiyya. They don’t say what they think, but the more time goes by, the tougher it gets.
At one point, it was Christianity that exerted pressure on everyone, on the people here. And so at one point, we limited the visibility of Christianity. Now, it’s more Islam. If you go to Outremont in Montreal — I pass through there every day because it’s on my way to the University of Montreal — you’ll see that Judaism is very present, that Hasidic Jews exert pressure on municipalities, on zoning, you know. So it all depends on the era and the neighbourhood. In any case, we have to stick to our principles. It’s clear that we can’t prevent one form of religious expression and not another.
In 1905, when France passed the law that gave rise to secularism, the problem wasn’t Islam. But the principles are the same — they needed those principles. The principles of freedom of conscience, separation of state and religion, and religious neutrality of the state are good for everyone, across the board. So yes, if the principles of freedom of conscience and all that are important for children from Catholic or Christian cultures, they are just as important for children from Muslim cultures. That is also what universalism is about — saying that freedom and equality are values and principles that everyone should enjoy in a free and democratic society.
In a democratic state, we want to form a common civic culture. We need to have something in common — not fracture and divide the nation into different groups, each with their own interests, who will then vote for their own lobby. Can you imagine the kind of democracy we are creating? In any case, everyone agrees that educational institutions and schools should not be examples of political pressure, because schools are there to welcome everyone’s children. Parents have no choice but to send their children to school, so we shouldn’t impose politics, religion, or anything else on them. What we have to do is develop children’s critical thinking skills — make them think, teach them to think, to discover themselves. School develops children’s freedom. So we have to expose them to ideas, the pros and cons, so that they can form their own ideas about what they want to do in life without undue pressure.
Narration: We asked Ms. El-Mabrouk about Bill 21 and feminism specifically.
Lisa Richmond: We know that the law on state secularism places a particular emphasis on equality between men and women. Do you believe that Bill 21 is a feminist law?
Nadia El-Mabrouk: Laïcité is important for women’s rights, more so than for men’s. Because historically in religious texts — particularly in Islam — women must cover themselves. Now, is that a text from the Quran or not? I’m not interested in that question. What interests me is how people practise their religion — that’s what’s most important. Religions — Islam and Judaism too — impose a lot of obligations and constraints on women, much more than on men. It’s no small thing, you know, to wear a veil when it’s hot. At a certain age, women are always hot, by the way. So imagine a woman who is always hot because she’s of a certain age, with the temperatures we have nowadays — especially in Arab countries, 40 degrees Celsius, 50 degrees Celsius. Can you imagine wearing a veil and gloves? It’s suffocating. And women are prevented from going out, so they have to stay at home.
Everything that is imposed on women is that she is the guardian of the family’s reputation. It’s the woman who must protect the family’s honour — if she reveals herself, the whole family is dishonoured. There’s a lot of pressure on women for this. It’s a big issue. If a woman reveals herself, she endangers herself, because it would be her fault if men had bad intentions.
In Quebec, women had to have a child every year; the priest would come and check to see if she was having a child every year. Women in particular were really under the control of the church. And it was feminist movements that played a big part in enabling Quebec society to emancipate itself and break free from the bonds of religion.
And so now, when she sees other women coming in with veils, saying that it’s their choice and imposing themselves on schools — when we’ve removed crosses and nuns’ habits from schools — you feel, when you come to Quebec, liberated. You don’t feel like you’re being watched. It’s incredible. It took me a long time to go to a restaurant because I thought everyone would be staring at me. But then I realized that no one was looking at me. So it’s a liberation. Young people today don’t feel that — for them, it’s something they take for granted.
The young people of Québec Solidaire — not to name names — who have never lived under the yoke of religion, they think it’s natural. They don’t see at all the weight that was on these women here in Quebec, which continues to be very, very heavy in many Arab countries. Listen, just look at Afghanistan. Iran may be far away, but it’s not that far away. And not so long ago, women used to walk around in skirts with their hair blowing in the wind. So it’s not that far away. Young people today don’t see it. They think it’s a given. It’s ignorance of religions. They think religions are open to LGBTQ people. Shouting “long live Hamas” with an LGBTQ flag waving is laughable. It’s really stupidity at its highest level.
Part 2: The Conservative Republicans — In Favour
Narration: The second group is the Conservative Republicans. Conservative Republicans are nationalists who are concerned about the decline of Québécois culture and values. They see the rise in visibility and requests for accommodations for minority religions as a weakening of Quebec’s identity and a failure in the integration of immigrants. They see their political struggle as being first and foremost against state multiculturalism and a form of pluralism that weakens the only French-speaking state in North America.
This vocabulary is the one the Parti Québécois government used by calling its laïcité bill the Charter of Quebec Values, and also what Premier Legault referred to by declaring “In Quebec, this is just how we live,” after the adoption of Bill 21. Laïcité is seen as a way to assert common rules and values in a society that is at risk of dissolving in pluralism.
Here are the words of Mathieu Bock-Côté, a sociologist and public commentator:
“It was the crisis of Quebec multiculturalism, in all its dimensions, that the reasonable accommodations controversy revealed as events unfolded. Marking the news since the spring of 2006, a broader picture came into view — that of a genuine enterprise of denationalization being played before our eyes. Thus it is that, through the crisis of reasonable accommodations, Quebec partially rediscovered the national question by setting itself to the hour of the now globalized crisis of multiculturalism.”
When Premier Legault announced Bill 9 in 2025, he said that another rising trend in Quebec is that of political-religious groups that attack some of the shared values of Quebecers, such as laïcité.
Here is Guillaume Lamy.
Guillaume Lamy: When people are advocating to build up and strengthen the laïcité politics, what I hear is not that much about religion, but about social cohesion. Most of the groups that are advocating to strengthen laïcité in Quebec are nationalists — that’s their other name. They are not only secular activists; they are nationalists. And behind laïcité, there is a process that is one of nation-building. There is a very large goal from the nationalist parties.
There are two nationalist parties — the Parti Québécois and the Coalition Avenir Québec. They want to build an alternative meta-politics of identity that will be different from multiculturalism. And these groups don’t want to just create a Quebec version of multiculturalism. They want something else, with different fundamentals.
When we are talking about laïcité politics, I hear a political group talking about social cohesion — another way to build a collective identity that will be different from the one that is hegemonic in the English world. And in the English world, the main answer to diversity is: embrace as much as possible, and each time we can recognize diversity, we have to do it. Social justice belongs on recognition. And the alternative to this meta-politics, we will find it especially — or essentially — in France, with another type of political philosophy called universalism, or maybe republicanism, but not in the American way. In the French way, the Republic is a way of thinking about the collective destiny and collective liberties, where everyone can participate to decide what will be the limits of individual freedoms. And this is, I think, one of the inspirations of Quebec nationalists. They want to find some other way to think about diversity outside of the English influence.
Unlike Universalist Republicans, Conservative Republicans do not adopt the language of neutrality or of emancipation from religion. They conceive of laïcité as a way to assert Quebec’s specific identity in the face of growing pluralism, from a culturally conservative perspective. They often express appreciation for Quebec’s Judeo-Christian heritage and do not wish to erase its presence, which they consider part of Quebec’s identity.
On this topic of secular activism, there are two subgroups. One is perhaps the purest one: we have to get rid of all religious symbols, no matter what it is, even if it’s heritage, even if it’s historical symbols like the cross and Catholic Church symbolism. And the other group — and it’s not a joke — you could call it cathol-laïque, or Catholic-secular. They are compatible with the previous one, but they say: we will put limits on religious symbols, except for the ones that are linked to our past. So everything that is Christian will be granted an exception. The cross on the walls of schools and hospitals is okay, but not if you’re wearing an assembly as a public servant.
The second theme is obviously a kind of conservatism — what we call patrimoine, heritage. And these two groups can be enemies. They were in the past, in the 19th century. François Legault, the current Premier of Quebec, was not okay with the deconfessionalization of the school boards. He was opposed. It was Pauline Marois who eventually updated that politics. But nowadays they are allies. That’s what we see in the history of ideologies. In the past, socialists and anarchists were enemies — there was nothing in common between these groups. But nowadays they are, most of the time, a single team against capitalist globalization. And today, those two groups of secular activists — whether civic or conservative — have teamed up to make some political progress toward their goal. And maybe someday this coalition will be broken and they will become, maybe not enemies, but adversaries, we can say.
Narration: Here is how Xavier Gélinas sums up the Conservative Republican position.
Xavier Gélinas: A society in republican terms means more than a geographic place where bipeds live. There have to be shared values. Especially, goes the argument, with people coming from such different linguistic, ethnic, geographic, regional, and religious backgrounds — to have a cohesive society out of a very varied and disparate society requires some common rules. Just as if you play football, it’s four quarters of fifteen minutes each. The referee is this person and the lines are here, et caetera. That’s the way it’s done. If you want to play another game, we’ll discuss. This is called football and you wanted to become a player.
Narration: Even though they are the subject of debate, faith communities have not actually been central participants in the discussion. The question of the positive contribution that religions can make in Quebec is rarely raised, nor is faith itself. Most of the debate centres on culture wars and the place of pluralism versus social cohesion, while religious groups sometimes appear to be collateral victims of a debate in which their voices are rarely heard.
Part 3: The Liberal Pluralists — Opposed
Narration: The third group is the Liberal Pluralists. Liberal Pluralists see themselves as classical liberals, promoting an open vision of state neutrality. They strongly value liberalism’s axiological neutrality and believe that the state is an institution that should not take a stand on what the good life is, instead leaving this freedom to individuals. They share a commitment to the Anglo-American model of the separation of church and state, which sees neutrality as a lack of intervention by the state. Contrary to Universalist Republicans, they do not think that employees of the state wearing religious symbols are a breach of neutrality — they assert that it reflects society’s pluralistic character.
As Jocelyn Maclure, a professor at McGill University, wrote in Le Devoir:
“For the state, for it to be the state at all, must refrain from endorsing any particular conception of the world and of the good, whether religious or secular. It must strive as far as possible to remain neutral with regard to the convictions of conscience that structure the moral identity of its citizens. Secularism requires that public norms and institutions not draw their authority from any particular religion. It does not require that individuals rid themselves of their religious beliefs or confine them entirely to the private sphere. Laicity is to be applied to public institutions, not to individuals.”
Or as Gérard Bouchard, a historian and sociologist who co-chaired the Bouchard-Taylor Commission, wrote:
“Some claim that by allowing the wearing of religious symbols, the state takes sides and encourages the growth of religion. In reality, the state is neither for nor against. It simply respects the legitimate choices of certain citizens. The state need not promote religion, but neither must it constrain it when it operates within the limits of the law.”
Liberal Pluralists see the debate on laïcité as a discussion on how the state can best accommodate diversity, and they believe that it is through embracing multiculturalism and religious accommodations that integration will happen in the most harmonious fashion. For Liberal Pluralists, promotion of diversity is the way to foster better social cohesion and to fight intolerance. They tend to see the banning of religious symbols as a breach of neutrality motivated by xenophobia, which they oppose.
Charles Taylor: But I mean, there are lots and lots of metaphysical views. I frankly admit that my adherence to human rights doctrine is based on some deep views about human beings — and even in my particular case, on a religious basis. But I know lots of people fighting alongside me for the same goals who don’t believe in God, but they have some kind of view about the human good and so on. And I mean, if we ever lose that, we’ll have a very impoverished discussion. But so these all ought to be projected opinions. You can express them and you don’t get punished for it, or can’t take this joke, can’t take that.
Narration: As you heard in a previous episode, Julius Grey is not in favour of the Canadian policy of multiculturalism, but he shares other aspects of the Liberal Pluralist perspective.
Julius Grey: The problem with the secularism in Bill 21 is twofold. One of which is the vehemence, the anger, which to my mind implies still the presence of the old identity nationalism. There is that left and we can’t ignore it, although it is not a majority.
The other thing that’s wrong is the methods. I would not tell a young woman that she can’t teach if she has a scarf. I would not tell young men — and traditionally the Sikhs were often soldiers; Quebec doesn’t have an army, but there are policemen — I would not say you can’t be a policeman if you have a turban or whatever. I would not say you can’t teach or be in the government in some form if you wear a kippah. I think both of these things are misguided.
Jean-Christophe Jasmin: So how do you respond to the argument that when a person wears those signs, those religious symbols, they are not only expressing their own identity — which, if I understand you, is perfectly acceptable — but they are representing the state? How do you respond to that rationale for prohibiting them from wearing certain symbols when they are in a position of representing the authority of the state? Is that not persuasive for you, and why?
Julius Grey: It doesn’t persuade me at all. I mean, people have all sorts of things that are recognizable. And I don’t believe in false neutrality. I’ve never believed, for instance, that a teacher who’s teaching high school with children who are 14, 15, 16, 17, and where there is a referendum going on, that the teacher must not tell them which side they’re on. They should not be using the classroom as a place to do propaganda, coming and saying, come with me and we’ll carry pamphlets around. But I think it’s more honest and more fair to say there’s a public debate and I’m a federalist or I’m a sovereignist, and I’ll try to be as neutral and put both points — but the children will understand it better if they know where the person’s coming from.
So I don’t think the mere fact that you’re wearing a kippah or a kirpan or a scarf means you’re representing the state and forcing that on others.
Jean-Christophe Jasmin: What if somebody wore — just playing this out — what if a teacher wore a shirt every day, or regularly, that had an Israeli flag or a Palestinian flag in the classroom? Would that be acceptable?
Julius Grey: I would say that’s stupid, and I would tell them that, but I wouldn’t stop them from wearing it. I would tell them it’s stupid and it offends some of the children. And there are limits — for instance, you could not wear a shirt with a picture of Adolf Hitler. There would be something so horrible in that that you would have to stop. But in any case, if you push anything to the extreme, you will find that you go over the line somewhere. The answer is, it takes a real leap of faith towards a sort of rigid authoritarian secularism to say that if a teacher has a crucifix or a Star of David, they are forcing the conscience of the children — especially if they make it clear, if asked, that “that is my expression and you can have any other one, or none at all, and that’s fine.” I think conscience is absolutely important. But it is a factual error to suggest that a policeman who stops you and has a turban is forcing your conscience.
Narration: This school of thought emphasizes state neutrality. To what extent can the state be neutral? We posed this question to Professor Koussens.
David Koussens: Often they say, oh, religion has no place in, should have no impact on state decisions. I saw some papers from the government saying religious ideas should not influence decision-making. But there is a form of non-traditional religion in a sense. A state cannot function without some axiological idea of the good. Maybe it’s not based on the teachings of Jesus, but it’s based on the teachings of Rousseau. But you can’t get away from an ideological or religious system that has some idea of the good.
Jean-Christophe Jasmin: A pure secularism does not exist.
David Koussens: Yeah. Secularism — we should never forget — is this political arrangement that evolves in society. But pure secularism does not exist. Pure neutrality does not exist. Even think about the criminal law. Why in the criminal law are you not allowed to kill your neighbour? Where does it come from? And so pure secularism — I think it’s almost impossible to arrive at this form of secularism. I don’t think it will ever happen.
The hegemonic views — whether cultural, religious, or ideological — are sometimes invisible to the majority. They seem to have a free pass in Quebec. Ideological views can be promoted, funded by the state, taught to children. But as soon as you have a weekly meeting and a book — oh, this is religion. But if I tell you that man is born in a sinful state, that’s religious. If I say that man is born free and everywhere he is in chains, like Rousseau — that’s just, you know, truth. Or something neutral, anyway.
Jean-Christophe Jasmin: You know, in France, the Law of 1905 seems to have been the work of atheists, freethinkers, and humanists, but in conjunction with Jews and Protestants. Whereas in Quebec, it seems sometimes there is a confusion between the discourse on laïcité that is general laïcité, and a group that is often anti-theist, anti-religious, that mixes up the idea of laïcité and their own personal convictions and values. So how can a state — you said there’s no true secularism — but shouldn’t these views be more recognized in order to reach a truer or closer secularism?
David Koussens: Yes, atheism is a conviction of conscience. There is no proof that there is a God, but there is no proof that there is no God. So it’s clearly a conviction of conscience, and it has to be protected as a conviction of conscience. The Supreme Court said so in the decision Simoneau c. Ville de Saguenay — it has to be protected as a conviction of conscience. It has the same value as a religious conviction. But it should not prevail in the secular arrangements. It shouldn’t be the conception of the good that prevails in the way the state will decide to organize secularism.
Part 4: The Anti-Racists — Opposed
Narration: The fourth group is the Anti-Racists. Anti-Racists frame the debate around laïcité through the lens of racial discrimination faced by Quebecers from minority groups. To them, the initiative to ban religious symbols for some professions is a deliberate attempt to depict immigrants as the problem, as the “other.” Their main concern is not neutrality, but discrimination and the well-being of ethnic minorities in Quebec, which they perceive to be victims of systemic racism or Islamophobia.
Haroun Bouazzi, a member of the National Assembly for Québec Solidaire, said:
“The message here is clear: it is acceptable to discriminate against and exclude members of minority groups without valid reason. And it is easy to imagine that the consequences will extend beyond the minorities targeted by the bill — not only to the professions targeted by the bill, but also to the private sector, for example, or other sectors and professions in the public sector.”
Anti-Racists often depict Quebec as an ethnocentric society hostile to cultural pluralism and immigration. In their eyes, laïcité is a tool used by conservative nationalists to stigmatize minority groups, creating an unhealthy atmosphere in Quebec. They champion multiculturalism and appear very hostile to talk of cultural integration, because it implies that migrants should adapt to Quebec society instead of retaining their cultural habits and traits.
Sonia Ben Soltane is a professor at the University of Ottawa. She wrote:
“The debates that led to the enactment of Bill 21 reflect a discourse that racializes veiled women — a discourse articulated by those who position themselves at the centre of the debate on social cohesion. Our interviewees have directly experienced numerous microaggressions, acts of discrimination, and verbal attacks, the effect of which is to make their exclusion a reality and render it tangible. They have also internalized the expectation to stay in their place through the pervasive hostility toward veiled women, which manifests itself in every legislative or electoral debate, in the media, on the streets, and in certain professional settings.”
And here is the journalist Toula Drimonis:
“With the exception of Indigenous communities, we’re all immigrants to Canada, regardless of timeline. Despite this, allophones are often treated as latecomers, guests to be benevolently welcomed or permitted. We’re routinely told to just leave if we’re unhappy or fail to display the appropriate gratitude or conformist behaviour. I’m here to tell you what it feels like to be a hyphenated Canadian — a Quebecer on probation, someone who is routinely called upon to prove their allegiance. I’m here to deconstruct blind spots: privilege, power, and yes, occasionally oppression and marginalization by the majority voice.”
We asked Hicham Tiflati his opinion.
Hicham Tiflati: The nation-state that we have in the West was built taking into consideration the belief system and the religious polities of the majority. So someone from the Christian majority — and I’m not talking about minorities who have their Christmas on January 7th, the Eastern Church, and other needs of other minorities — someone from the dominant group will never need to ask for Sunday off. For regular jobs, obviously there are careers where you have to go on weekends. Parking is free on Sunday. You’ll never need to ask for permission to take Christmas Day off or Easter off — because the system was built with you in mind.
Switch the discussion to other minority groups. So when a Muslim or a Jew or a Hindu or anyone needs a day off, or any religious accommodation for religious reasons, it’s seen as a disruption to the status quo. They’re asking for a privilege. The status quo is: this is how we do things.
Jean-Christophe Jasmin: So what is your working definition of Islamophobia?
Hicham Tiflati: That’s a very good question. I would say — it’s not fear. I mean, I’m not keen on the linguistic definition. Islamophobia, I would say, is the hatred and the unease of anything that resembles or that has to do with Islam. So if a Sikh individual is attacked — we see that once in a while, it happened a few times — since 2011 we had fifteen victims from the Sikh community, and the perpetrator thought they were Muslim. And one of them, when told that they were not Muslim, said: well, close enough. Christian Arabs, Syrians, Egyptians — even those who have Christian names — also face it.
I’m opposed to Bill 21 because I don’t think it solves the issue of secularism. The problem I have with Bill 21 is that it’s not about laïcité. It’s about one specific group. It targets one specific community, and it doesn’t solve the problem of religion interfering with state matters. The bill focuses on external manifestations of religion. And with certain groups and certain religions, it doesn’t make you less of a Christian if you agree to hide your cross for an hour or two, because it’s not an identity issue. In most cases — I know there are exceptions — a Muslim woman who wears a veil, or a Sikh man who wears a turban, for them it’s an identity issue. It’s not optional from their perspective. Or we would say, from a Christian perspective, it’s an issue of conscience.
But if we push everyone, some of them will go underground and we might have serious issues in society. And that’s why inclusive secularism might be the best fit in modern societies.
Jean-Christophe Jasmin: Do you think Quebec’s laws are pushing religions underground?
Hicham Tiflati: We’re going in that direction, when it leads — or when it might lead — to indirect discrimination against mainly Muslim women. Not Muslims in general: it’s Muslim women. The question I keep asking is: can state neutrality be guaranteed and defended without exclusion?
Conclusion
Narration: This overview of the schools of thought involved in the debate on laïcité shows that this issue actually touches on several different debates. The nature of the state’s neutrality is at stake, but so is the future of Quebec’s identity and the place of cultural minorities.
We now turn to the possible models for managing pluralism — the topic of Episode 4. Thank you for listening.
