It is always difficult to know in the short run whether the election of a new government will trigger a change of kind or a change in degree in the governance of any political entity. Monitoring its early discourse and the first moments of its activities is therefore important from a diagnostic point of view, and crucial from an action perspective: a fair description of what is happening is bound to inform the citizenry about what is emerging, and help supporters and opponents alike to organize better to bolster or challenge the strategy in the making.

The Charest government came to power in April 2003, and its performance has been closely monitored by two clutches of political scientists. Most observers have welcomed the reemergence of this genre that has been quite important in the past in Quebec when Gérard Bergeron, Léon Dion, Daniel Latouche and Denis Monière critically chronicled the successes and failures of different Quebec governments.

Two books on Charest’s first 500 days therefore deserve some attention, not only because they indicate a revival of political analysis “à chaud,” but also because, although not flawless, they are informative and reveal much about both the situation in Quebec and the Quebec intelligentsia’s frame of mind.

Although the two books cover the same territory, they are based on different strategies; adopt different perspectives; elect to use significantly different approaches, styles and languages; and generate quite different outcomes. They share, however, some similar flaws in dealing with the fundamental issue of diversity, and may be too exclusively retrospective and not sufficiently rich in prospecting more imaginative and better ways to meet the challenges faced by the Charest government, and how that might be accomplished.

Neither the R book (Rouillard et al.) nor the B book (Boismenu et al.) is partisan in the narrow sense of the word: they are not defending a political party line. But the R book is unashamedly “ideological”: it dogmatically defends a certain number of presumptions regarded as an unchallengeable credo. The B book is much more prudent and subtle analytically, but it is not immune from ideological undertones, especially in the third part of the book, where it deals with the thorny questions of participatory democracy and Quebec identity.

The R book is built on a set of strong presumptions: the definition of governance as being anchored in the public sector, the state-centric welfare state as the unchallengeable reference, the theological specificity and sanctity of both the “public sector” and ”public” control, the foundational character of statism and neo-corporatism as embodied in the regime brought forth by the Quiet Revolution, the professionalism and devotion of a missionary public service, and the overriding of electorally representative democracy by participatory democracy. As a result, any modification or reduction of the autonomy and capacity of the state (in the name of efficiency, effectiveness and economy, for instance) is dogmatically condemned as the impoverishment of a governance system that must remain anchored in juridical and administrative rationality, and operationalized by a sacrosanct public service.

The B book is deliberately more eclectic and pluralist. It constructs its perspective around five sets of observations: the amateurism of the Charest government and its ineffective “political communication strategy,” the conflict between the electoral and the “social” mandate, the pro-business community and anti-union “image” of the Charest government, the lack of unity of view of the members of the government, and the lacklustre quality of incrementalism in the face of a history of “grands projets mobilisateurs.”

These observations are used loosely to examine three questions: the extent to which the public sector is being reengineered; the extent to which the “politic” is being redefined; and the extent to which these actions are in any way “weakening” the role of the Quebec state in defining Quebec identity (within) and its presence and influence (without).

The R book is a normative, “intégriste” (I would hazard, at times) and vehement expression of “dynamic conservatism” à la Schön (i.e., activism in the defence of the status quo). It pays little attention to context and attempts to defend the integrity of what it sees as the fundamental state-centric nature of Quebec governance that needs protection from the barbarians. As a result, the tone and language of the book often slide into diatribe, echoing a strong ideological attack against any change in the governance of Quebec as the result of a deliberate attempt to destroy the foundations of the not-really-perfectible regime in place.

For the R team, the Charest strategy is the result of sheer dogmatism, and reveals some fundamental ignorance and fanaticism: the result of silly mimetism of what has been undertaken in the US and the UK, and an illegitimate tinkering with the iconic state. A Manichean perspective ensues: a state-centric scheme purportedly bestowing benefits on all is seen as under threat— to be displaced by a new regime that has nothing to offer but inequality and exclusion.

The B book is critical, but more serene, displaying a “scepticisme de bon aloi face au gouvernement et à ses politiques.” It is mainly an attempt to explain why the Charest government has failed so miserably: promising the moon and delivering very little that is revolutionary, and suffering a great deal in the polls anyway as a result of its failure to explain why it does what it does, and why it is necessary to do so.

The B book takes much more time to gauge the change in context, and to examine the limits of the strategy adopted by the Charest government. It does not denounce the Charest strategy;: it contextualizes and evaluates it. Boismenu et al say they are attempting to “explain” why there is such a gap between the “ambitions” of the government and its “accomplishments,” but also to explain the extent to which the changes in progress are likely to modify the “powers” of the public sector, the contours of the “political,” and the support for the public infrastructure of the “Quebec identity.” In the last sections of the book, the seductions of direct participatory neo-corporatist democracy and state-centrism sway the authors somewhat, and the serenity wanes somewhat.

The relative importance of the “identité québécoise” question in the two books is not surprising, but it poses an interesting challenge. It is argued in the name of history and heritage (by the R book) and in the name of a “devoir é‚tre collectif” (in the B book), that there are limits than can be imposed— in the name of l’identité québécoise— to the sort of freedoms that our democratic system should allow for citizens: there would not appear to be a clear place in either scenario for deep cultural pluralism and deep diversity. L’identité québécoise looms large as a constraint.

What both books would appear not to accept is the dynamics of an open society that evolves, that must evolve. In a globalized world with massive population transfers, the Quebec population has become quite diversified. Such a cultural heterogeneity calls for some sort of recognition that “uniform national standards” may not meet the needs of such diverse citizens.

Both books denounce the “atomization” of the relationship between the state and the citizen, and the exclusion of some interest groups from the deliberations with the state, but neither book follows up with what might be the implications for representative democracy of such a neo-corporatist stand. Supposedly, representative government elected by citizens at large is no longer sufficient. The neo-corporatist credo calls for participatory democracy and a strong voice for collective interest groups, but it is less enthusiastic about granting such a voice to “cultural groups.”

When it comes to “l’identité québécoise” it would appear that the importance of diversity vanishes. In fact, even the more serene B book derides the “sentiment d’appartenance communautaire” expressed by Montreal communities, and recognized by Jean Charest in the referendum on “les défusions municipales.” It approvingly quotes Denise Bombardier when she says “un pas de plus et on parlerait du triomphe de la diversité culturelle.”

What are denounced as imperialism when standards are imposed by Ottawa, become legitimate unfreedoms that the Quebec government may (must) impose in the name either of the preservation of “les acquis de la Révolution Tranquille” or of “l’héritage politico-administratif” or the “devoir é‚tre collectif.” These unfreedoms all of a sudden become “des actions structurantes” that can legitimately impose constraints and standards on a deeply diverse population in the name of “les intéré‚ts supérieurs de la nation.” Un pas de plus et ce serait “la raison d’État.”

What lurks behind part 3 of the B book, and all through the R book, is revulsion at the idea that the state might be regarded as “un vulgaire prestateur de services.” A Hegelian-flavoured metaphysics haunts both books: the state (always spelled with a capital S) is regarded as the fundamental societal “organism,” with moral purposes that transcend those of its individual citizens.

Therefore, depending on the coefficient of Hegelianism harboured by the authors, tinkering with the state is perceived as less or more a crime of lèse-majesté. For the soft Hegelians (the B book), there is more to the state than service provision, but this does not prevent one from legitimately seeking more efficiency and effectiveness in alternative nonstate delivery systems. For the hard Hegelians (the R book), any tinkering with any aspect of the state sphere that may reduce its scope or ambit can only be regarded as heresy.

PPPs as a collaborative governance alternative to state provision of services is no panacea. Like all forms of collaborative governance, it does not always work well and produce high performance. Indeed, there is much disagreement among experts about the extent to which PPPs may improve efficiency and effectiveness, accountability and quality assurance in the provision of public services. All agree that this is very much terra incognita for the partners when these initiatives are launched, and that some winning conditions must be satisfied if much benefit is to be derived from such collaboration: a perception of legitimacy and credibility of the process by the citizenry, a good design of the original arrangement, an equitable sharing of risks, a rigorous and continuing evaluation of performance so as to generate social learning, and an effective governance of the agreement.

Both books (although each to a different extent) take aim at the publicprivate partnerships component of the Charest strategy.

In the B book, the tone is sceptical. It is fairly argued that “la montagne a accouché d’une souris.” The authors’ view might even be interpreted as not necessarily opposed to PPPs, but rather unimpressed by the way in which the Charest government is going about this strategy. There is no denial that under the right conditions PPPs might help solve many problems, although it is felt that the Charest government may be too timid and that its top-down clumsiness leaves much scope for discontent and for sabotage by the permanent public servants who are threatened by such arrangements.

In the R book, the tone is acerbic. Its opposition to PPPs is fundamental. It is asserted in a peremptory way that none of the winning conditions exist, and that none of the promises in terms of gains in efficiency and effectiveness, accountability, and quality assurance in the provision of public services can be realized. All this is “un discours illusoire et insidieux,” “une chimère.” Nothing is proved or disproved. We are in the world of dogma: the tone is akin to the one used by Stéphane Dion when he purports to “show” that fiscal imbalance is logically impossible in the Canadian federation.

The R book’s attack on PPPs in general is not entirely groundless. The authors are right when they insist that some winning conditions are necessary for PPPs to work, and that they are not always in place. What makes their argument somewhat specious is that they presume without any proof that such conditions can never be realized. The ideological underpinnings of this theological position are clear: if one were to allow for the possibility of any such collaborative governance, the very sacred nature of the state would be eroded and its metaphysical dominium thereby questioned. Such an act of heresy cannot be entertained.

These two books, despite their flaws, are enlightening both about the mystery of the Charest government failures and about the state of mind of the Quebec intelligentsia, but they leave the reader sur son appétit.

The B book has thrown some light on the reasons why the Charest government has been in such difficulties. It has shown that it has been a government plagued by amateurism, indecision, internal dissension, weakness of will, and immense difficulties in communicating with the citizenry. One might add that some key ministers’ lack of political savvy and subtlety has made life particularly difficult for the Charest government.

The R book is much less factually enlightening about the challenges and choices faced by the Charest government, but it has the merit of starkly and doggedly reminding the reader of the profound ideological underpinnings of much of the political debate in Quebec, and of the central tenets behind some of the Quebec intelligentsia’s blind spots.

Indeed, one of the important forces left largely unnoticed and unanalyzed in both books is the habitus of the Quebec intelligentsia and media: the strong state-centric and neo-corporatist leanings of both groups have led them to hold the Charest government (in its efforts to modernize Quebec governance and to explain what it is trying to do) to standards of clarity and persuasion that they would never demand from the defenders of the other view.

This may explain why both books are very short on helpful suggestions for the Charest government. In that sense, this new generation of political analysis à chaud is quite different from the earlier generations, where suggestions for modification to the sociopolitical architecture and for administrative repairs were constantly forthcoming. This may be the major flaw of both books: they provide very little in terms of useful advice. Maybe it is because of their lack of sympathy for the Charest government. Maybe it is because constructive advice is more difficult than critical commentary.

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