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Let’s face it: Crisis communications have never been the French language minister’s strong suit.
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Two words: total sham.
There’s no other way to describe Minister of the French Language Jean-François Roberge’s meeting with members of the English-speaking community Tuesday to “clarify” 31 pages of new directives that he keeps insisting mean nothing changes for anglophone patients trying to access health care in English.
Where to begin?
Well, for starters there’s the fact a meeting had to be held at all to explain the new regulations outlining the “exceptional circumstances” in which “a language other than French” can be used in the health system under Bill 96.
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In effect since July 18, these rules contradict the earlier promises Premier François Legault’s government made to English-speaking Quebecers when the new language law was adopted, including that no proof would be required to obtain health and social services in English. Instead, the document repeatedly references certificates of eligibility for education in English as a means of qualifying for health care exclusively in English.
Yet Roberge took to Twitter to deny this was the case and published an open letter co-signed by Christian Dubé, the health minister, and Eric Girard, the minister responsible for relations with the English-speaking Quebecers, reiterating this assertion.
Clear as mud.
Then Roberge called a meeting with members of the anglophone community to dispel the confusion. But the guest list was a mystery until after the fact.
Key stakeholders including the Quebec Community Groups Network, an umbrella organization for many smaller anglophone organizations, the Townshippers Association and the Task Force on Linguistic Policy were left out.
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The minister’s office belatedly revealed those in attendance were: Jeffery Hale—Saint Brigid’s, a Quebec City hospital and long-term care home offering English care since 1867; the Cummings Centre in Montreal; Seniors Action Quebec and 211 Montreal. The secrecy and selectiveness surrounding the invitations suggest the government is being choosy about who it hears from.
The QCGN, which has been openly critical of the directives, ultimately received an 11th-hour summons to the meeting, but decided not to participate because Dubé was not present. Quebec City’s Community Health and Social Services Network also declined.
Despite the fact his ministry drafted the complicated policy, Dubé was missing in action (as was Girard. Or perhaps they were ducking for cover).
Although Roberge said that he could allay any concerns from the community himself, he got tripped up trying to explain the finer points of the directives.
After telling The Gazette that they applied to “administrative” communications in the health network, Roberge was unable to offer an example of what that would entail because, he said, he is not in charge of health and social services and didn’t want to give erroneous information. But he suggested access to information requests could be one possibility.
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Are we really to believe that the Health Ministry drafted 31 pages of guidelines just for that?
But let’s now zero in on the outcome of the meeting. In spite of his assurances that the government only needed to clarify the bafflegab that supposedly doesn’t really change anything, Roberge conceded that the regulations need to be rewritten.
“We are coming with a new way to formulate it, with new wording, which will be more clear that you don’t have to have your life at risk,” Roberge told The Gazette.
Oh, but the rules that have caused so much consternation will remain in effect until the new version is drafted.
Wait, what?
Let’s face it: Crisis communications have never been Roberge’s strong suit. Think back to his handling of the COVID-19 pandemic, when as minister of education he tried to convince teachers and parents that the air in the province’s many poorly ventilated schools was perfectly fine.
After forbidding French-language service centres from purchasing air purifiers like English school boards did, he ordered up a series of air quality tests to show that everything was hunky-dory. Experts immediately questioned the methodology, which included taking a reading after the windows had been open for 20 minutes. Roberge said public health officials had signed off on the scientific validity of the protocol, but this was later exposed to be untrue, once Radio-Canada obtained an email exchange that showed objections were voiced and ignored while the minister proclaimed otherwise.
All this to say, there are grounds to be skeptical that Roberge’s assurances on health care in English are little more than gaslighting. Quite frankly, these Health Ministry guidelines on language are as farcical as the faulty air-quality tests.
Sending ministry bureaucrats back to the drawing board won’t clarify a thing. There’s a good chance it could make things worse.
If nothing has truly changed for anglophones who want health care in English, if “good faith” and “self identification” are all that is required to qualify for these services, why are any guidelines needed at all? The Legault government should scrap the Kafkaesque directives entirely.
All Roberge’s meeting accomplished was to deepen the mistrust of English-speaking Quebecers.
ahanes@postmedia.com
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