
Last week, the mayor of Quebec City made a decision that should concern every Canadian who still believes that history matters.
A historic mosaic, installed at city hall, depicting the moment Samuel de Champlain meets a First Nations chief, is being removed. Why? Because, and I quote, it was deemed to be “offensive.” That’s it. That was the only criterion. One of the most important figures in the founding of Quebec — and, by extension, of Canada — is now considered too problematic to be shown to the public.
Dans le dernier film de Denys Arcand, Testament, une scène identique se déroule.
Le wokisme a son pire. Effacer l’histoire, qui nous sommes, au nom de l’inclusion et de la diversité de façade.
Il existe toutes sortes de façons de se réconcilier avec les premières nations.… pic.twitter.com/IVfzjvqoFk
— Eric Duhaime (@E_Duhaime) June 17, 2025
Let’s be honest: the mosaic depicts a painful truth. Yes, the Indigenous chief is shown in a posture of submission. Yes, it reflects the colonial lens through which history was often portrayed. But the role of history is not to make us comfortable. It is to show us what happened. The moment we begin to edit the past to make it easier to look at, we stop telling the truth, and we begin to create fiction.
Seventeen years ago, in 2008, I wrote the speech delivered by Prime Minister Stephen Harper for the 400th anniversary of the founding of Quebec City. It was one of the proudest moments of my life, because it was a moment of unity, between French and English, between past and present, between our country and the city that gave birth to it.
In that speech, Prime Minister Harper honoured our collective memory: “1608 is a historic date for you, for Quebec, and for all of Canada. Because it was beginning on July 3, 1608, exactly 400 years ago today, that we really started becoming what we are today.”
He described Quebec City as “the most beautiful city in Canada, the most enchanting, a city that breathes a real joy.”
And he said something else, something deeply important to remember today: “The seeds planted here 400 years ago today have blossomed into a magnificent city, a strong and proud Quebecois nation and a great Canadian country, strong and free.”
But he didn’t stop there. He also acknowledged the founding role of French in Canada’s identity: “The 400th anniversary of the founding of Quebec City reminds us that French is Canada’s founding language,” he said. “The founding of Quebec City also marks the founding of the Canadian state.”
Let that sink in. The very language, culture and political existence of modern Quebec, and of Canada, can be traced to the moment Champlain arrived and established a settlement on the shores of the St. Lawrence. And today, that very moment is being removed from the walls of the city he founded.
This is not reconciliation. This is revisionism. This is not respect. This is erasure.
We have a duty to teach our full history, including the injustices. Including the imbalances of power. Including the painful truths about colonization and its lasting effects on Indigenous peoples. But we cannot do so by pretending the past did not happen. We cannot do so by tearing down mosaics instead of building understanding.
When we erase history, what comes next? Language? Identity? Memory?
We are a country built on the tension and the union of its founding nations, Indigenous, French and English. We are not perfect. But we are here. And to be here is to remember how we got here.
You cannot teach the truth by hiding the evidence of its existence. You cannot build a stronger country by burning the pages of its past. And you cannot defend your culture, your language or your values by abandoning your history.
History remembered is a foundation. History erased is a warning.
We must choose to remember, not to shame, but to learn. Not to glorify, but to understand. Because if Champlain is too offensive to remain in Quebec City, the rest of our story won’t survive, either.
What does it mean to be Canadian? It means belonging to a country forged between two founding languages, on land first inhabited by Indigenous peoples. A country that stretches from the Atlantic to the Pacific to the Arctic, where winter forges our character and distance teaches us humility.
To be Canadian is to live on a land that is vast but never empty. Where cities vibrate with global energy, but where the soul of the country still lies in small towns, in the northern lights, in maple trees and in the quiet pride of neighbours helping one another.
It means carrying the weight of our history, with its triumphs and its faults, and refusing to forget either.
It means standing for the anthem even when no one is watching, and believing, deep down, that peace, order and good government is not just a slogan, it’s who we are.
It means belonging to a country founded in French, built in both French and English, and rooted on Indigenous land. A nation carved from the wilderness into Confederation. A northern country shaped by explorers, settlers and treaties, not by passing trends.
To be Canadian is to carry that legacy, to know where we come from and to never let anyone rewrite it.
Being Canadian must mean something. Otherwise, we are nothing.
Let that be a wake-up call.
National Post
Dimitri Soudas is the former director of communications to Prime Minister Stephen Harper.










