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Election night in lock-up >> Polling offenders as the votes are tallied by DOMINIQUE RITTER
The fact is that the results of a provincial election, whatever they may be, have little impact on the lives of the penitentiary's 440 offenders. Quebecers incarcerated for more than two years find themselves in federal enclaves like the Cowansville pen, outside provincial jurisdiction. But even in this mini-Canada, discussion of the larger issues behind the election seemed to incite more fervour than even a female visitor. The offenders (as they are called by Corrections Canada) are not anxious to reveal their full names or to have their pictures taken, and no one volunteers the circumstances of their incarceration. But despite their removal from the free world, the inmates of Cowansville pen can spout politics with the best of them. Convicts have conviction. Power of the prison vote Quebec provincial prisoners have had the right to vote since 1978, but only in 1995 did Canada extend the same privilege for federal elections. Although people in the pen are stripped of most basic freedoms, they retain the right to cast a ballot in elections and referendums--a point not lost on clever politicians. Cowansville prison has 148 registered voters. Although many offenders retain their pre-incarceration address (home of their spouse or parents), the majority register in the penitentiary's riding: Brome-Missisquoi. In search of his share of Cowansville's 92 inmate votes, PQ candidate Raoûl Duguay paid a visit to the correctional facility during his campaign--a wise move if you think of it as 92 potential votes for one extended house call. Duguay visited the institution's workshops and classes, and even if he didn't answer each and every question put to him, he did shake a lot of hands. "I asked Duguay what county the prison is in and he didn't know," said Franky. "He had to ask one of his aides. But I voted for him anyway because it's a vote for Bouchard." Cowansville pen is a virtual PQ bastion, and it is not a stretch to imagine that nearly all of its ballot-casters voted in favour of Bouchard's Parti Québécois. Although Duguay lost to Liberal incumbent Pierre Paradis, it's worth noting that about one per cent of Brome-Missisquoi's PQ voters reside within the confines of the riding's slammer. Friends of Paul Rose But just because most of the offenders voted PQ doesn't mean that other parties couldn't garner the favour of the residents of the pen. As it happens, the leader of one of the province's political parties is an old roomie of members of what they call Club longues-sentences (lifer's club). Former FLQ terrorist Paul Rose, who was jailed in connection with the kidnapping and murder of cabinet minister Pierre Laporte during the October crisis of 1970, used to share his days and nights with some of Cowansville's lifers at Archambault penitentiary during the late '70s. Rose now leads the Parti de la Démocratie Socialiste (PDS), which received about 30,000 votes across the entire province. "We did time with Paul," said one of the Club members. "He's a good guy. We was a good inmate and a good politician, even on the inside. But what I'd really like is to see him team up with Bouchard." The group of six or seven lifers who were interviewed were a serene bunch of grandfatherly-like bridge players: weathered faces, silvery-gray hair and tranquil dispositions. But they were irate about the difficulty they encounter trying to obtain information about Rose and the PDS. "He's the hero of Quebec and we can't even read about him in the newspaper," they lamented. "We take our hat off to him. He is the root of Quebec." But no PDS candidate ran in Brome-Missisquoi and the group is resigned to supporting the indépendantiste party with the most clout. Separation holds appeal for the majority of inmates, not only because of nationalist sentiment--which is fervent--but also because they could stand to gain from a political overhaul of the correctional system. Liberal disfavour Clearly the Liberal party was not an option for most of the offenders. Jean Charest's "Mike Harris" politics were generally condemned as prisoner-unfriendly. "I don't like Charest because of the way he talks about people in jail," said Moose, who is serving a nine-year sentence. "We're better off with Bouchard than Charest. Charest wants to hang us all." "Charest doesn't stop talking about the referendum," complained Franky. "The election is for a premier, not a referendum. Mario Dumont seems better than Charest. During the debate he was frank and intelligent. But he is still too young. I voted PQ because I'm a Quebecer." That prisoners vote at all may surprise some people, but there are 3,113 inmates on the Quebec elector list (out of 5.25 million voters). They pay taxes, they pay attention and they are casting ballots. "It's a right. We're still people. We're not spending our entire lives in prison," said Franky, who suggested that inmates who don't want to vote should spoil their ballots so their votes are not lost. "Just because we're in jail doesn't mean that we're animals. I do believe people can change if they want to. I don't like being judged because I'm an inmate," said Moose as he wrapped Christmas gifts for kids in the community. "It's just another way of reflecting that incarceration is not supposed to be punishment. It's supposed to be correctional," said Philip Godin, adjoint-director of the Cowansville penitentiary. "They're going home eventually. This helps remind them that they're going back into the community."
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The federal Cowansville Institution bears some likeness to an austere country compound retreat--apart from the fact that all the residents are male and checking out is not an option. Last Monday night, gym workouts, bridge games and the Canadiens were on the agenda. Watching the election results was not--the inmates were more interested in the Canadiens game. Lucien Bouchard's victory over the Liberals was expected; a Habitant trouncing of the L.A. Kings was a refreshing change.