It is early in the afternoon on Feb. 15. Like hundreds of other people, I am not able to get into Pierre Poilievre’s “Canada First” rally in downtown Ottawa.
Despite registering for the event days in advance and showing up right at 1:00 p.m. — the time the Conservative Party advertised it would open the Rogers Centre’s doors — I am one of many people being turned away by security.
“We’re at capacity,” bellows one of the guards to a drove of maple leaf-clad, double-double-sipping, “CANADA IS NOT FOR SALE”-hat-wearing Poilievre supporters.
“Nobody else is getting in,” says the guard.
I reflexively scan the side streets for alternate ins. I find it hard to believe the venue is truly “at capacity.”
I walk east on Daly Avenue, toward the intersection with Nicholas Street. There is a partially open construction site at that corner, attached in some uncertain, liminal way to the convention centre. I consider wandering in, tempted by the prospect of an unguarded corridor or fortuitously placed maintenance elevator, but think better of it. There are too many witnesses.
I see that the Westin Hotel is connected to the Rogers Centre by a pedway. And so I enter the hotel, traipse past reception, ride up the escalator, and walk down a series of halls until I find the service door that fuses the two buildings.
The door is locked. I shake it a bit, the way a middle-schooler might shake a vending machine, ineffectually, to loosen a teetering bag of pretzels. It feels juvenile, and I feel like a fool. I give up.
“You tried opening it?” asks a voice from behind me.
I turn around to see Andrew Scheer, the former leader of the Conservative Party. It turns out he is also trying to find a way into the event. I realize then that the venue might actually be at capacity.
I tell Scheer that I did try opening the door. I also tell him that he might be stronger than me. Stepping aside, I invite the sturdy, six-foot-four opposition house leader to have a go. He walks past me, jiggles the handle, and then notices a nearby keypad on the wall.
“Zero, zero, zero, zero?” he asks, a boyish grin crossing his face. No dice.
“There are only 9,999 possibilities,” I quip.
“Maybe one, two, three, four?” he asks.
Neither of these attempts is successful, so he turns and heads back down the hallway, down the escalator and out the lobby.
I follow him, hoping he knows of some other way into the venue, hoping to slide through a security checkpoint by his side while being mistaken for a staffer. But this does not happen. Scheer simply walks back to the entrance of the convention centre, where a crowd of disappointed party faithful remain congregated, shivering in the February air.
Given the not-so-thinly veiled jingoism of the day, keeping a couple of dual Canadian-American citizens like Scheer and me on the outside seems perfectly understandable. But all these other people? The true believers? That just seems cruel.
It is a brisk afternoon, around 10 degrees below zero with intermittent snowfall. Security guards continue to shout that the venue remains at capacity.
People are frustrated. Some have driven in from out of town. The Conservatives have marketed this speech as the marquee political get-together of the season. Huffing and puffing abounds.
“But at least it’s a good sign,” says one man to a nearby woman, a remark which she meets with an earnest nod of agreement. “No way the Carney events are overflowing.”
A Feb. 11 Leger poll indicates a Mark Carney-led Liberal Party would match the Conservative Party’s support at 37 per cent — this after over a year of the Conservatives enjoying a double-digit lead in virtually all national polls. But the people surrounding me do not seem worried about reports of a Liberal resurgence.
I go back into the Westin to warm up.
“Ana just started speaking,” says a middle-aged woman in the hotel lobby, excitedly, while staring down at her phone.
I pull out mine, find a quiet corner, and start the rally’s live stream.
Anaida Poilievre, Pierre’s Venezuelan-born wife, flaunts an eggshell dress, crimson pumps and a confident display of her trilingualism in an introductory statement. Thunderous cheers roll through the hall.
“This is absolutely not the time to choose the same tired leadership that got us into this mess, even if they wear a new mask,” she says. “This is a time to choose conviction and strength, and to stand up for all Canadians, and put Canada first!”
“And while threats are looming from abroad, only my husband can deliver that strong leadership needed to fight back.”
People scream and twirl flags. Then Pierre takes the stage.
“Are there any patriots in the room who are ready to put Canada first?” he asks. The crowd erupts in applause.
Immediately, the Conservative leader sends rhetorical jabs across the 49th parallel that are pointed and unambiguous.
“I heard that a snowstorm actually paralyzed Washington the other day. But here in Canada, our capital will never be prevented from celebrating its great national flag by a few snowflakes.”
The remarks quickly grow deeper and more political.
“Our founding leader, [Sir John A. MacDonald], united our country from the Atlantic to the Pacific, and warded off American designs to dominate our continent,” says Poilievre. “In the words of our great first prime minister, ‘Conservatives will fight to give us a great, a united, a rich, an improving, a developing Canada, instead of making us a tributary to American laws, American railways, American bondage, and American tolls.’ That is the rich Conservative legacy to Canada, deliberately resisting American annexation for hundreds of years.”
The crowd goes ballistic. Rallygoers furiously wave red and white “Canada First” placards above their heads.
Poilievre calls for scrapping the federal carbon tax. He calls for a west-to-east pipeline to achieve energy independence. He calls for slashing domestic trade barriers.
“Within 30 days of becoming prime minister, I will bring together the premiers with the aim to remove the hundreds of pages of carveouts and exemptions in the Canada Free Trade Agreement that slow or stop goods from moving from province to province.”
When the speech ends, I return to the front of the convention centre, where attendees start to flow out, and dozens of people are still trying to get in.
“I was hoping to hear Poilievre speak,” says John Rowe, a 57-year-old Ottawan who stood outside for the entire rally. “ I think the way forward is through the Conservative Party.”
As someone who plans to vote for Poilievre, Rowe tells me his concern is not foreign pressure from the United States, but corruption within Canada’s current government, the handling of the pandemic, and the epidemic of lethal drugs.
“ I was never a Conservative,” says Rowe. “There are a lot of issues where, politically, I wouldn’t be Conservative. But I’m going to vote. And it’s actually the first time I’ve ever voted. I’ve lived in Canada my whole life and I’ve never voted.”
It’s late afternoon, and people are still flowing out of the venue. Those who made it inside appear far less ambivalent about the party than Rowe.
I begin to walk home, westward, toward Parliament Hill.
Crossing Elgin Street, I see a line of Tory rallygoers running perpendicular to a line of pro-Palestine protesters. The latter are bundled in keffiyehs, on their way to mount their own rebuke of Uncle Sam at the nearby American embassy, though for entirely different reasons.
The lines cross, unceremoniously, and the Tories diffuse into the bars on Sparks Street to shift the focus of their passions from the rhetorical to the kinetic. The matchup between Canada and the United States — the first best-on-best hockey game between the two nations in over a decade — starts in a few hours.
Poilievre is already on his way to the Bell Centre in Montreal. Like the man he seeks to replace, he will watch the game in person. On a day like today, it is impossible to imagine a prime ministerial hopeful watching from anywhere else.
The opening puck drops in sync with the gloves of Canada’s Brandon Hagel and the United States’ Matthew Tkachuk, who trade a flurry of blows before any hockey is actually played.
The crowd erupts in applause. The nation erupts in applause.
Looks like the Cons bused in so many “preferred VIP patrons” from Brampton that there was no room left for the Canadians.
They were proudly posting photos of said busloads on X on the day of the rally.
Typical of “Canada Last” Pierre.
“Looks like”?
Poilievre hasn’t totally dropped the mini-me Trump imitation. “Canada First” “America First” a little too similar for my liking. We need to start looking elsewhere and turbo charging our trade relations with everyone who isn’t the U.S., ie: Europe, China, SE Asia, Australia, and New Zealand.