I was a young political staffer working for Allan Rock, then Minister of Justice, when I was seconded to the Federalist No campaign communications team. 

It was a front row seat to history. The Montreal Unity Rally, Prime Minister Chrétien’s Verdun Auditorium speech and Referendum Night at Club Metropolis, remain indelible memories. I was sent to observe Lucien Bouchard’s first event as Yes leader. He slowly limped up on the stage, cane in hand, at a Montreal baseball field.  I watched with wonder this force that would mesmerize so many Quebecers during the campaign’s second half.

What often goes unremembered today is that the No side began the campaign comfortably ahead. And yet that early lead made us more vulnerable, not less. Our message was a rational — constitutional, legal, economic warning about separation risks with little in the way that was positive or inspiring. The Yes campaign moved faster, emotionally and visually. They put something in the window first; a future people could picture. They made independence sound almost costless — even claiming Québec could separate while keeping the Canadian Loonie and remaining inside our monetary system. It was framed not as a rupture, but an upgrade, sovereignty with security. 

We responded too cautiously, and by the time we articulated a more positive vision, the emotional momentum had shifted. The result was a narrow cliff-hanger win: 50.58% to 49.42%. 

What shaped me most was not the relief of victory, but the importance of positive messaging and finding better ways to connect with people.  We didn’t win because people feared separation — we won because, eventually, just enough people believed we still had a common future.

I still have so much respect for what came afterward. Prime Minister Jean Chrétien, and Stéphane Dion showed true political leadership — not by spiking the football, but by passing the Clarity Act, directly addressing jurisdictional grievances, and brilliantly buying time to de-escalate. I still remember Mr. Chrétien’s speech to the Liberal Party’s Quebec wing in Hull, Quebec defending the Clarity Act — the best political speech I have ever witnessed. It was forceful. It was principled, historically literate, emotionally grounding — the kind of leadership moment that fortifies a democracy. He literally turned a skeptical crowd around with his words. 

Chantal Hébert’s The Morning After remains the essential account of how close Canada came to breaking up — and what leading political figures were privately prepared to do had the vote gone the other way. It’s a great but scary read!

And now, thirty years later — with the Parti Québécois consistently leading in the polls and the Carney Government focused on US trade and economic issues;  I worry that we could soon find ourselves in another unity crisis. There is a lot of change and uncertainty ahead of us.

In 1995, division still moved at analog speed — through television, doorsteps, and printed words. Today, algorithmic social media can accelerate division instantly, amplify half-truths like “sovereignty without economic disruption,” and punish measured leadership rather than reward it. Hostile foreign governments would see this as a great opportunity to take Canada down a peg. 

1995 taught me the importance of messaging. You do not preserve a country by winning a vote. You preserve it by continuously earning trust in a shared vision before someone else fills that future with something more seductive.

That was true then. It is even truer today.

David Rodier is Managing Director, Corporate Communications in Edelman Canada’s Ottawa office. He has served in senior campaign roles for prime ministers Jean Chrétien, Paul Martin Justin Trudeau and Mark Carney.