>> Thirty-five years after founding the FLQ, Raymond Villeneuve says the time for violence is once again at our doorstep. He's taking on the partition movement by scaring the hell out of its leaders

by PHILIP PREVILLE

"There is one price, one price--and history bears me out on this--there is only one price that freedom will accept, and that is blood." --United States marine drill sergeant, from Gwynne Dyer's documentary series War

When Raymond Villeneuve's name comes up in most conversations, a small battalion of descriptive nouns is always trotted out in order to describe him: killer, racist, fascist, madman. The first three words paint a pretty accurate picture--he makes no bones about his past as an FLQ terrorist or his contempt for English Canadians, and his authoritarian brand of nationalism could in all fairness be considered fascist.

But although many people would like to think otherwise, the 54-year-old Villeneuve, leader of the Mouvement de libération nationale du Québec (MLNQ), is no madman. A dead ringer for Lenin, with a steely look in his eyes, he does not speak or act randomly. Let's put it this way, if he were ever brought to trial for the acts he says he intends to commit, no judge or jury would ever find him insane. He's thought it out far too carefully.

"I'm an activist for a political cause," he says. "I look at a situation, I study it, I analyze it politicall. I don't have anything against anybody, and I draw conclusions. My conclusions are that the Québécois are a people, we have the right to self-determination, and we're going to become independent eventually. I'm in favour of doing it by legal means, and I'm even in favour of recognizing the rights of the historic minority in an independent Quebec. But if the federalists get in the way of achieving independence legally, then we'll find other ways."

Villeneuve speaks about his country, Quebec, with the fierce pride of a war veteran--which is more or less what he is. In 1962, Villeneuve and a small group of friends became the founders of the Front de libération du Québec, and committed their lives to the struggle for Quebec's independence. They wasted little time. "The tunnel network for the métro was being built," Villeneuve recalls, "and a couple of us went down to what is now Laurier métro station in the middle of the night and stole 300 sticks of dynamite. Things were easier then. Nowadays they keep the dynamite locked up."

They built a bomb and, on the night of April 20, 1963, killed 65-year-old nightwatchman Wilfred O'Neill at a nearby Canadian armed forces base. They were quickly arrested, charged, tried and convicted. Villeneuve, the youngest of his comrades at age 19, received the heaviest sentence--12 years--for orchestrating the entire affair.

Released from jail four years later, he spent the next 17 years overseas before returning to Quebec in 1984. He worked as a volunteer organizer for the Parizeau-led Parti Québécois from 1988 right up until the referendum loss in 1995. That's when he became "fed up" and decided to form the MLNQ. Villeneuve describes the MLNQ as a loose organization of about 200 people who have taken it upon themselves to prepare for all eventualities, including that of violent conflict.

Now, with the growth of the partition movement since the last referendum, Villeneuve has been musing aloud about the possibility of violence in the streets. In fact, Villeneuve considers his threats of violence to be much more pertinent now than they were back in '63. "I believe that the FLQ was premature back then," he says. "At the time, I thought we were too weak to achieve independence peacefully. But the movement has grown, and as long as that peaceful avenue is open to us, then violence is unnecessary. But if not, then it will be time for violence."

Villeneuve insists that the MLNQ has never made any direct, specific death threats against any particular individuals. He is, however, willing to admit many things that sound like death threats. "It's true that I said 'Canadians go home,'" he says. "And it's true that I said that partition leads to war, confrontation and bloodbath. And it's true that last year I said that if Quebec ever found itself in a particular situation--though I admit that I never adequately defined what that situation would be, which is all for the better--I said we'd burn their homes, their cars and their stores with Molotov cocktails. Molotov cocktails are wonderful, extraordinary instruments. They do more damage than a tank, and they're easier to transport from place to place. And there's not an army in the world that can stop the widespread sale of gasoline."

Ironically, Villeneuve's threats are a roundabout way of admitting that the partitionists are right: if Canada is divisible, then so is Quebec. The Parti Québécois government has been unable to mount any coherent argument against partition, because there is none. The way Villeneuve sees things, if the PQ maintains its commitment to sovereignty by peaceful negotiation they run the risk of having the territory cut up into bits and pieces. So he has taken it upon himself to revoke the commitment to peace, because it's the only way of keeping the territory intact.

"They're always threatening us, always, always. Whether it's Brent Tyler, Stephen Scott, William Johnson, William Shaw or whoever. And they're very subtle about it. They say that if we want to divide Canada, then they'll divide Quebec. And they make it sound as though people will accept it. Their real objective is to scare people, but they say, 'We don't want violence. We just won't pay our taxes. We'll use civil disobedience.'

"But on the other hand, they say that if there's independence, Quebec will be like Lebanon, it will be like Yugoslavia. Those aren't threats? They're basically saying there will be violence in Quebec. And we're the ones who are willing to say yes, you're right, there will be violence. We will never accept partition, so you can bet there will be a bloodbath. And you'll pay dearly, you'll fall first.

"We will chase them out of here, we'll send them home where they belong. It's better that they understand the consequences of their project now."

As reprehensible as his views may be, they force us to consider the worst. Tanks in the streets and armed insurrections are, after all, relatively standard fare even in democracies--think of Northern Ireland, Basqueregion of Spain, or even right-wing U.S. militias. Of course Quebec's situation is not the same, but then again, Villeneuve is not interested in that discussion. He's got a war of liberation to plan. Villeneuve gives the phrase "unity crisis" a new, far more menacing twist. He has looked further into the future than most, and if people don't like his version of what the future looks like, then they had better imagine a different one.

Villeneuve explains to me that, depending on the circumstances, the Mirror offices in which we're sitting may one day become a primary target of his. I tell him that, despite all he's had to say, he hasn't made me feel personally threatened in the least. He looks at me with those steely eyes and laughs. And I get the message: now is not the time.

Is partition inevitable?


| TOC | THE FRONT | ARTSWEEK | ENTERTAINMENT LISTINGS | SEARCH | LETTERS | BACK |


This document was created Thursday, October 30, 1997. ©Mirror 1997