Pierre Poilievre has become a lightning rod for Canadians’ frustration, and for those seeking cathartic release from simply being a Canadian — whatever that means, what with our ongoing national identity crisis — in 2025.
Outside of the Vancouver Wall Centre on the night of Feb. 4, a small crowd of pro-Palestine protestors, including one with a “Queers for Palestine” flag draped on their back, huddled and shouted in the snowy, -6C air. Poilievre was there to speak to a crowd of Conservative party donors inside. Clusters of Vancouver police officers in high-visibility vests kept the disruption outdoors.
One protestor’s sign suggested he was angry at the $1,750 price of admission to the ballroom event, drawing some imponderable connection between conflict in Gaza — now in a tenuous ceasefire — and a Canadian politician raising funds during the pre-election season. As politicians of every stripe do. (My ticket was complimentary, for the record.)
Earlier in the day, a different group of protestors chanted about white supremacy and fascism, jeering “Hey hey, ho ho, Poilievre has got go!” and “Hey hey, ho ho, fascism has got to go!” as he visited Vancouver’s Temple Shalom Synagogue. One banner read, “Jews say no to the politics of bigotry and hate.” Whose politics? Poilievre’s? To be fair, we now know that those involved in the pro-Palestinian movement will accuse anyone of genocide. These people are mad at everyone with a scintilla of power. Carry on.
Back at the Wall Centre, and despite the lively nature of an evening of cocktails, fundraising and politics shared amongst party supporters, the theme of the night was — undeniably — our national malcontent.
Poilievre gave an address on his vision for Canada similar to those we have heard in his pressers, podcast appearances and impassioned speeches on the floor of Parliament. His tone was more intimate and casual, however, as though he was surrounded by friends. He said he wanted an election “yesterday.” Ask Jagmeet Singh when it will be, he told the crowd. “Maybe donate all the money from the fundraiser to his pension so that he can call the election earlier.”
He also used the night to share a policy announcement he would give the public the next day: life in prison for fentanyl kingpins. It sounded like the political promise of a Central American leader during Richard Nixon’s War on Drugs. But no, half a century on, it’s just a pledge that resonates with Canadians weary from hearing about opioid overdose deaths and fed up with the public health officials pushing “harm reduction” policies.
The night’s question-and-answer period felt as though it was part therapy session. One man, Jas Arora of Abbotsford, nervously blurted out some of the details of his saga as a business owner and victim of an extortion gang that the RCMP created a task force to investigate nearly one year ago. “My mom passed away and I asked the police to attend (the funeral hall) because they were threatening to kill my kids,” he stammered.
I spoke to Arora earlier in the night, and he told me his adult children left Canada because they do not feel safe here. He didn’t have a question for Poilievre so much as a requiem for the country he thought Canada could have been — and should have been — for his children.
Another man, pointing to his cane, told the crowd he sat on a waitlist for nearly two years before receiving necessary medical care. After Poilievre gave his canned answer on fixing health care, he shared a joke: “They say that if you have a heart attack, don’t call 911, call a taxi — ’cause the driver’s probably a doctor.” If you don’t laugh, you’ll cry.
Others had similar questions. What about tuition costs? Bureaucrats strangling small businesses with red tape? Our devalued currency? All anxieties and frustrations, and even disbelief, about the country we are all standing in.
The night was a release of energy with nowhere else to go. Where is Prime Minister Justin Trudeau? He’s hiding and on his way out. Those “F*ck Trudeau” flags just don’t provide the same dopamine hit they used to Jagmeet? Irrelevant.
And then there is the Chrystia Freeland or Mark Carney sideshow of shameful vanity and capriciousness. Neither make good targets for a purge of our pent-up Canad-anger. (Canad-anger: it’s like the “hangry,” portmanteau of hungry and angry, but instead it means we are mad at the dismal state of our country.) Are these two really in the midst of their own personal marketing campaigns while the country hovers on the brink of a trade war with our “best friend” and the largest economy in the world — selling themselves to a populace that largely doesn’t want them?
And then there’s Poilievre. Whether you love or hate him, need to yell and scream and shout at him, or sing his praises once you’ve calmed down — he’s our guy, apparently.
National Post