When Prime Minister Mark Carney appeared last Sunday on Quebec’s most popular talk show, “Tout le Monde en Parle,” the most consequential question may not have been about President Trump or tariffs. Instead, it was probably when the host asked him what he “knew or liked about” Canada’s French-speaking province.
“A singer? A city? A feature? A cheese? Anything?” the host, Guy Lepage, suggested, in French, as Mr. Carney laughed but gave no clear answer.
Winning over voters in Quebec has usually, in great part, meant winning hearts by speaking French, grasping the province’s history and appreciating its culture. That was never going to be easy for Mr. Carney, a political novice whose appeals to Québécois voters have been marked by his faltering French and a series of gaffes that have raised doubts about his basic knowledge of Quebec, the country’s second-most-populous province.
Until a few months ago, the Bloc Québécois — a party that runs candidates for the federal Parliament in Quebec but that supports independence for the province — appeared headed for a big victory that would have considerably hurt Mr. Carney’s chances of winning the April 28 federal election. But Mr. Carney and his Liberal Party now have a huge lead in the polls in Quebec.
The abrupt reversal is another sign of how Mr. Trump’s tariffs and aggressive threats of annexation have upended Canada’s elections. Most Canadians regard Mr. Carney, a former head of the Bank of Canada and the Bank of England who has never before run for office, as the most capable candidate to deal with the American president, polls show. Even many hardcore supporters of the Bloc Québécois are now considering Mr. Carney and are cutting him some slack for his lack of connection to Quebec.
“He seems competent,” said Yves Lefebvre, 67, a retired roofer who was shopping Monday at a supermarket in Sainte-Thérèse, a Bloc stronghold north of Montreal. “I don’t care if he speaks only English.”
Mr. Lefebvre, who said he usually votes for the Bloc, said he was hesitating this time because he was worried about Mr. Trump’s tariffs. That Mr. Carney appeared to know little about Quebec did not matter, Mr. Lefebvre said, adding, “I don’t understand English. I go to Ontario and I’m clueless.”
On Wednesday evening, Mr. Carney participated in a two-hour debate, in French, without a single stumble. Expectations had been so low about his ability to debate in French that most analysts said his otherwise-unremarkable performance would not change the trajectory of the campaign, with some even declaring Mr. Carney the winner.
“Carney survives the debate in French,” Le Journal de Montréal, Quebec’s most popular newspaper, said on its front page. It judged the debate a “draw,” even though it gave Mr. Carney a D+ on his labored French, the lowest grade by far among the four candidates at the debate.
Analysts like to say that in Canada’s elections, Ontario, the province with the biggest population and 36 percent of the seats in Parliament, effectively decides who wins a federal election. It is difficult for any party that does poorly in Ontario to make up the difference in the rest of the country. But Quebec, with a 23 percent share of the seats, decides whether a party will get a majority, which would allow it to govern without a smaller party’s support.
Yves-François Blanchet, the leader of the Bloc, has been unable to hide his frustration at seeing his sizable lead vanish to Mr. Carney. Asked at a news conference whether Mr. Carney understands Quebec, Mr. Blanchet let loose, in English, accusing Mr. Carney of not giving a “damn” about Quebec.
“He will never say that he doesn’t like us,” Mr. Blanchet said. “But I don’t feel the love.”
In Thérèse-De Blainville, an electoral district north of Montreal, Marie-Noëlle Closson Duquette is running as the Bloc’s candidate to succeed a retiring incumbent. When word got around last fall that Ms. Closson Duquette would be the Bloc’s nominee, the party was so far ahead in the polls that some began addressing her as “Madame la députée,” or member of Parliament.
But in recent months, she watched the polls swing as Mr. Trump eclipsed all other subjects.
“Now voters are starting to talk a little bit about other subjects, but it’s still mostly about Trump’s tariffs,” said Ms. Closson Duquette, who was born in and is a well-known lawyer in the district.
In Quebec, many supporters of the separatist Bloc have started to reason that their province’s language and culture have a better chance of surviving inside Canada rather than as part of a 51st state.
“We already have a hard time preserving our language,” said Hélène Bourdon, who was walking in downtown Sainte-Thérèse with her husband, Daniel Trudel. “Imagine if we’re part of the United States.”
Given Quebec’s political weight, most non-francophone politicians learn French if they harbor national ambitions. Pierre Poilievre, the Conservative leader who grew up in Alberta, became fluent enough that Le Journal de Montréal awarded a B to his French during the debate.
In Quebec, Mr. Carney’s shaky French has been a running issue. In a Liberal Party debate in French, he slipped and said, in error, “We are in agreement with Hamas.” In a news conference introducing a Liberal candidate, Nathalie Provost, a survivor of the deadliest mass shooting in Quebec’s history, Mr. Carney mangled her last name. He made matters worse by misidentifying the site of the massacre.
After a long interview in French early this month, Mr. Carney was asked to rate his French on a scale of 1 to 10. He gave himself a 6, but added: “I’m from Alberta. I’m 60 years old. I can still learn.”
His efforts to keep learning appear to be paying off. In Quebec, the dominant French-language culture still acts as a cohesive force in society. Some television programs draw huge shares of Quebec’s population, the kind of audience last seen in the rest of Canada or the United States a generation ago.
The host of one such show, “Infoman,” followed Mr. Carney deep into the province to test his “Québécois 101.” Mr. Carney failed — but good-naturedly — when he was asked to identify Quebec’s version of shepherd’s pie (called pâté chinois).
What sound does curd cheese make in a first-rate poutine? Mr. Carney drew a blank as everyone around him answered in unison: “Skouik skouik!”
“Squish squish?” Mr. Carney said as the host corrected him, “Skouik skouik.”
And so the stakes were high when Mr. Lepage, the host of “Tout le Monde en Parle,” pressed him to name something he knew or liked about Quebec.
Mr. Carney eventually mentioned a singer, but flubbed her stage name. Another host asked Mr. Carney to name Mr. Lepage’s comedy troupe, a staple of Quebec’s pop culture since the 1980s.
When Mr. Carney answered correctly — Rock et Belles Oreilles — cries of approval rose from the audience.
“It felt nice, like velvet,” said Pierre-André Champagne, 65, a retired insurance claims adjuster, who watched the show on television.
Mr. Champagne, who usually votes for the Bloc, said he was going to back Mr. Carney, who he believed was the most qualified person to deal with Mr. Trump.
Like many people in Quebec, Mr. Champagne said he had started feeling greater pride in being Canadian. For the first time in his life, he planted a Canadian flag on his front lawn.
“I feel more Canadian because of Trump,” he said.
Norimitsu Onishi reports on life, society and culture in Canada. He is based in Montreal.
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