When Daniel Johnson announced his resignation as leader of the Quebec Liberal Party, Jean Charest had barely a moment to react. Almost immediately control over his political destiny seemed to be wrenched from him, and he came under intense pressure not only to leave Ottawa and the leadership of the federal Progressive Conservatives, but to enter Quebec provincial politics, to change political parties, and to become the leader who would defeat Lucien Bouchard and consequently the separatist forces. It was no simple decision. It was no simple task. It was also no secret that he favoured federal politics over the Quebec provincial stage. But as Johnson’s exit from the main theatre of Quebec politics was announced, a flurry of polls revealed that a Charest-led Quebec Liberal Party could defeat the Parti Québécois.

The passion with which Charest has played a role in the unity debate is well known. This was especially clear in the 1995 referendum and in the 1997 federal election. It was a role that helped make him the most popular federalist politician in Quebec. “Canadians know how strongly I feel about national unity. I will always put my country ahead of partisan politics,” Charest said. It appeared that if he turned his back on the leadership opportunity he risked damaging his own credibility. How could he expect to be listened to seriously in any future referendum, it was asked in Quebec circles, if he refused the job of head of the federalist forces in Quebec? If he did decline the position that political circumstances, enormous popular support, and perhaps even destiny were urging him to accept, history might remember him as the man who put his own interests ahead of the country’s. Jean Charest had to struggle with the dilemma of an encounter with history and his own personal wishes.

Charest’s decision to accept the leadership was announced in late March 1998 and came after he had been endorsed by politicians, pundits, commentators, and voters throughout almost every region of Canada. Concern arose that the pressure from outside Quebec threatened to burden Charest with the baggage of being English Canada’s candidate. Lucien Bouchard expressed this sentiment, saying “I hope my adversary will be chosen by the supporters of the Quebec Liberal Party and not by the Privy Council in Ottawa and not by the people in Ontario or by petitions from the West.” While some said the attack was predictable it underscored the sense among Charest supporters that the welcome signals had to come from inside Quebec.

Despite the question of whether Charest was backed into a corner, many are confident that he welcomes the head-to-head confrontation with Bouchard, a confrontation of significant dramatic and historic proportions. For Charest, a battle with Bouchard has dramatic irony. In 1990 Charest was handed the task of finding a way to appease critics of the Meech Lake Accord. When Bouchard discovered that Chrétien had been involved in secret dealings with Tory advisors on the Charest process, he expressed his sense of betrayal and left the government. Bouchard denounced the Charest committee as an unacceptable attempt to weaken the terms of Meech Lake. He then went on to found a new political party, the separatist Bloc Québécois, before he too took the road back to Quebec, where he became leader of the Parti Québécois and eventually premier.

Once Charest formally became leader of the Quebec Liberal Party, he suggested he would follow in the footsteps of such federalist predecessors as former premier Jean Lesage. Like Lesage, Charest indicated his commitment to Quebec and promised to work to strengthen the power of the Quebec legislature. Charest said “I want to tell Quebeckers, and all Canadians, that as of today the inevitable modernization of the federation will not be avoided. . . . I intend to affirm, with great firmness, the powers of the National Assembly of Quebec.” This latest turn of events in the constitutional theatre of Canada adds a new dimension to the question of who will be maîtres chez nous in Quebec.