Quebecovi sovereignisti generacije Z, ki se osredotočajo na zabavne trenutke, se razjezijo na sporočilo stare garde PQ

Quebec’s Gen Z sovereigntists, focused on fun times, bristle at the PQ old guard’s message Éric Cyr, a lifelong supporter of Quebec independence, finds himself at odds with a younger generation of activists who view the cause through a different lens. More than three decades after he cast his ballot for separation, the Parti Québécois stands on the brink of regaining power, promising a third referendum on independence. Yet, for many young supporters, the path to self-rule is less about solemn duty and more about embracing a vibrant, modern identity shaped by internet culture and social media. Mr. Cyr, 57, recalls being mocked as a “frog” during childhood in Labrador City, N.L., before settling in Fermont, Que., a community where a majority once supported separation. He sees the upcoming provincial election as a critical moment. With the deadline set for October 5, he insists that supporting the PQ is non-negotiable. “There won’t be another opportunity,” he says, fearing that delaying action could spell the end of the movement. In contrast, two young voters in Montreal, Aymeric Lalonde, 20, and Delphine Marchand-Roy, 25, express skepticism toward the traditional approach. Born after the 1995 referendum, they belong to a generation that views sovereignty not as a rigid ideology but as a flexible, evolving concept. Their engagement with the movement is rooted in online communities, where memes and viral content shape their understanding of independence. For them, the PQ’s strategy, centered on a referendum within a first term, feels outdated and overly serious. Ms. Marchand-Roy admits she might spoil her ballot in the next election, while Mr. Lalonde expresses discomfort with the PQ leadership under Paul St-Pierre Plamondon. The party’s leader, who currently holds the fourth place in the Quebec City legislature, has positioned himself as a unifying figure. His pledge to reduce immigration aims to safeguard the French language, a key pillar of the sovereignty movement. However, this stance has drawn criticism from younger activists, who accuse him of clinging to an “old narrative.” Political analysts note that the province’s sovereignty movement has splintered in recent years. Once a unified front, support for independence is now divided among multiple parties, including the PQ, the Coalition Avenir Québec, and the Bloc Québécois. Despite this fragmentation, polls show that only about 30 percent of Quebecers favor independence, a number that has declined since Donald Trump’s return to the presidency. This shift reflects broader societal changes, including growing concerns over economic stability and cultural integration. Mr. Cyr, however, remains undeterred. In Fermont, where he lives, he argues that the influx of immigrants, who often identify strongly with Canadian identity, threatens the survival of the French language. “It’s as if it dilutes the francophone pool,” he explains. “I’m convinced this is the last chance. Honestly, if they really claim to be sovereigntists, there’s no other option but to vote for the Parti Québécois.” Meanwhile, the PQ faces the daunting task of bridging generational divides. While older supporters like Mr. Cyr demand immediate action, younger activists seek a more inclusive, adaptable vision of independence. Mr. St-Pierre Plamondon, aiming to secure a majority government, must navigate these tensions as he prepares for the October election. Whether he succeeds in uniting the movement remains uncertain, but one thing is clear: the future of Quebec sovereignty is far from settled.