The pantheon of Canadian historical figures got a bit smaller last year. In a manner reminiscent of Stalin-era censorship that saw former allies of the Soviet leader excised from photographs after they fell from favour, Canada is now disappearing many of its own former notables. Since 2019 Parks Canada has been scrutinizing the thousands of historical bronze plaques scattered across the country commemorating significant Canadian persons, places and events with the goal of identifying individuals from the past who no longer meet the Liberal government’s “progressive” standards. According to the policy document Framework for History and Commemoration, this process is supposed to “advance reconciliation and to confront the legacy of colonialism.”
As revealed by a previous C2C Journal investigation, by 2022 Ottawa’s naughty list had spotted 208 (since raised to 229) individuals, events and locations considered problematic enough to warrant further investigation. Those singled out could have their plaques revised or in “exceptional circumstances” their federal designations revoked entirely. And despite initial reassurances from Parks Canada that “history is not being erased through the review of these designations,” some commemorative plaques have already begun to disappear.
Late last year, the first four targets were revealed. In keeping with the process’ overarching woke objectives, all are white, English-speaking men. They are early Confederation-era senior administrator Edgar Dewdney, Western Canadian journalists-cum-politicians Nicholas Flood Davin and Frank Oliver, plus Duncan Campbell Scott, the long-time deputy superintendent of the federal Department of Indians Affairs. They were singled out, Parks Canada’s statements claim, because of “colonial assumptions”, largely as a result of their association with federal Indigenous policy in Canada.
As the plaques for Dewdney, Davin, Oliver and Scott were being consigned to the dustbin, Ottawa was buffing the reputation of another white male ‘settler-colonial’ interloper from Canada’s past.
And while these four initially had their plaques removed on what Parks Canada called a “temporary” basis, the agency has since changed its tune. “No new plaque will be prepared as the limited text of a plaque does not allow for adequately communicating the complex history,” Parks Canada stated in an email to C2C. While their designations have not been formally revoked, the commemorative bronze plaques for these men – the most significant and visible public manifestations of their status – are now gone. The disappearance of each ought to be considered a loss to all Canadians.
Curiously enough, however, at the same time the plaques for Dewdney, Davin, Oliver and Scott were being consigned to the dustbin, Ottawa was buffing the reputation of another white male “settler-colonial” interloper from Canada’s past.
How is Parks Canada editing the history of Canada?
Since 2019, Parks Canada has been reviewing its list of National Historic Persons to identify individuals who are associated with “views, actions, and activities condemned by today’s society.” Those considered to have offended modern-day standards may have their plaques removed or their historic designations revoked.
As first reported in the National Post, Parks Canada recently designated Acadian soldier Joseph Broussard dit Beausoleil a person of National Historic Significance. This means he gets a brand-new plaque and all the recognition that goes with it. According to the plaque’s text, Beausoleil was a heroic resistance fighter rebelling against British oppression in what is now New Brunswick and Nova Scotia. “Through his actions in defence of the Acadians, he inspired their resistance and left his mark on their collective memory,” it states.
As part of his “resistance”, Beausoleil committed many objectively horrible war crimes, including scalping and killing innocent civilians during a 1751 raid now known as the “Dartmouth Massacre”. It seems strange that Beausoleil – whom the Post deems a “slaughterer of settlers” – should be commemorated by the federal government at the same time it hustles four law-abiding, federally-employed individuals out the door.
Welcome to the club, war criminal! Joseph Broussard dit Beausoleil, a leader of the Acadian resistance against the British in the 1700s, was recently honoured by the federal government as a National Historic Person with a new plaque in Moncton, New Brunswick, despite scalping and murdering settlers. (Sources: (left image) Facebook/Musée De La Neufve-France; (right photo) Victoria Walton/CBC)
How exactly did Beausoleil escape Parks Canada’s revisionist policy? There is little doubt that Beausoleil held a European view of the world. And polite society today tends to frown on scalping and murdering civilians. This is not to argue that Beausoleil doesn’t deserve to be recognized as a significant figure from Canadian history. Rather, all representatives of Canada’s past ought to be judged by the same standards. And it is hard to escape the notion that the key difference in these two differing outcomes lies in Beausoleil’s native tongue.
Nicholas Flood Davin
To properly appreciate the injustice and incoherence of Ottawa’s campaign against Canadian history, it helps to understand the stories of some of the recently disappeared.
According to the authoritative Dictionary of Canadian Biography (DCB), Davin was a “journalist, orator, politician, writer and poet” of particular note. He arrived in Toronto from Ireland in 1872 and was a vocal proponent of Irish unity “across religious lines”, what seems a conciliatory (and hence very Canadian) perspective. He was also a founder of the Young Men’s Liberal-Conservative Association and, as a lawyer, favoured underdogs and political outsiders. This extended to his unsuccessful defense of George Bennett, the man who killed Father of Confederation George Brown.
Journalist, orator, politician and poet: Nicholas Flood Davin, founder of the Regina Leader newspaper, was a significant figure in the settlement of the Canadian West. According to Parks Canada, however, his entire legacy is defined by a single report he wrote for Ottawa in 1879 on native residential schools in the United States. Shown, the Leader’s office, circa 1884.
Davin made his way out west as a politician and later founded the Regina Leader newspaper in 1883, the predecessor of today’s Regina Leader-Post. Among his journalistic coups, he interviewed Louis Riel on the eve of his execution by sneaking into his jail disguised as a priest. Davin stands as a significant and colourful figure in the settlement of the Canadian West, as his plaque once testified.
His plaque’s removal is largely due to a single political appointment he received in 1879. The federal government asked Davin to investigate what were then known as “Indian Industrial Boarding Schools” throughout the United States, and make recommendations. As Parks Canada tells it:
“His report recommended the federal funding of existing boarding schools at Christian missions and the establishment of new federally-funded, church-run industrial boarding schools. These recommendations aimed to remove Indigenous children from their families and strip them of their cultures. His report reflects the 19th century settler beliefs that Euro-Canadian culture and Christianity were superior to Indigenous cultures, traditions, and spiritual beliefs, and that these Euro-Canadian values should be imposed on Indigenous Peoples by means of assimilation and colonization.”
Davin was clearly associated with what is now considered a discredited policy. But in this he was no different from many others of his era, including some Indigenous leaders who requested that government schooling be made available to their people. Is it fair that his modern-day reputation should rest solely on this one aspect of his entire career?
Edgar Dewdney
According to Parks Canada, Dewdney had his plaque removed because his implementation of government policy as Indian Commissioner of the North-West Territories led to “malnutrition, disease, and death” among Indigenous people; he also helped to “initiate and shape the residential school system in the Prairie West and beyond.”
Dewdney’s complete story is far more generous to his reputation. He was a civil engineer and politician who arrived in the colony of British Columbia in 1859. There he assisted in the construction of many government buildings as well as a number of trails into the vast Interior. In 1868, he was appointed to the colony’s Legislative Council and participated in initial deliberations related to B.C.’s entry into Confederation.
Like Davin, Dewdney enjoyed a wide-ranging political career. Appointed Indian Commissioner in 1879, his instructions were “to prevent starvation by the distribution of relief, to get those Indians who had not already done so to settle on their reserves and take up agriculture.” Dewdney ended his career as Lieutenant-Governor of British Columbia, leaving a long legacy of significant public service.
If a story is difficult or complicated, it seems Parks Canada would rather not tell it at all.
The DCB entry for Dewdney notes his sympathy to the Indigenous population’s plight and his “great faith in the younger generation of natives.” In 1976, when he was designated a National Historical Person, Dewdney’s policies after the 1885 Rebellion were described as “humane and sensible”. As for accusations that he deliberately starved native tribes, the well-reviewed new book Sir John A. Macdonald and the Apocalyptic Year 1885 by Canadian historian Patrice Dutil concludes that “there is no evidence that food was withheld to kill Indigenous people,” and that spending on relief efforts was one of the largest items in the federal budget at the time. A fulsome picture of Dewdney’s accomplishments seems at odds with the nasty, specific claims made about him by Parks Canada.
The Fatal Connection
The same general conclusions hold for the legacies of our other two now-missing figures. Scott is widely condemned today for his strict management of the residential school system. But he too had many other notable accomplishments, including being one of Canada’s greatest poets. As for Oliver, he was a fiery defender of Western Canadian rights, both as a journalist and federal cabinet minister. And while Parks Canada claims his now discredited views on immigration and native schooling define his legacy, Oliver deserves recognition as one of the first in a long line of outspoken Prairie populists.
The link between all four is that their careers intersected in some way with Canada’s now-reviled Indian Residential Schools. Parks Canada’s commitment to “reconciliation” apparently means any connection to this corner of Canada’s history is grounds for immediate cancellation. Yet such a myopic approach ignores the totality of a figure’s contributions to Canada and its history. Recall that Parks Canada rejected any role for countervailing or conflicting evidence because plaques are apparently ill-suited to “adequately communicating the complex history” of these four men. If a story is difficult or complicated, it seems Parks Canada would rather not tell it at all.
History, though, is full of complexity. It is the historian’s task to make sense of it all, both the good and the bad. And while the legacy of residential schools is significant, there is far more to the Canadian story. Focusing on these schools to the exclusion of all other events, accomplishments or circumstances is a simplistic and reductive approach that does a grave disservice to Canada’s past.
Further, many other federal plaques do describe events that are anything but simple. The “Winnipeg General Strike” or “Japanese Canadian Internment” involve complex themes and conflicting viewpoints and morality, and Parks Canada somehow found a way to incorporate all this in plaque form. And in other cases – Beausoleil, for example – such complexity seems to play no role at all. Clearly Ottawa is playing favourites. A few additional examples reveal the trend in full.
What are some cancel culture examples of Canadian historical figures?
Edgar Dewdney, former Lieutenant-Governor of British Columbia, and Nicholas Flood Davin, founder of the Regina Leader newspaper, recently had their historic plaques removed by Parks Canada. No new plaques will be issued due to the fact both held “colonial assumptions”.
Canada’s Teflon Prime Minister
Consider the contrast between Sir John A. Macdonald, Canada’s founding prime minister, and Canada’s seventh, Laurier. As Canada’s first native French-speaking, Québec-born prime minister, Laurier is an icon of the federal Liberal Party. Outgoing Prime Minister Justin Trudeau often heralded Laurier as an inspiration for his own career, frequently copying his “Sunny Ways” catchphrase.
As the pre-eminent Father of Confederation, Macdonald once enjoyed an even greater reputation, particularly among conservatives. Today, his reputation lies in tatters; statues of him have been torn down or decapitated and his name removed from numerous public buildings, schools and other landmarks. Much of this animosity emanates directly from the federal government. At Macdonald’s former home in Kingston, Ontario, for example, a Parks Canada display describes him as “a monster” for his promotion of residential schools. Macdonald’s immigration policy, including the infamous Chinese head tax, is similarly excoriated elsewhere in the facility.
Yet everything Macdonald did, Laurier did worse.
The original “Sunny Ways” prime minister oversaw a vast expansion of residential schools far beyond Macdonald’s initial intention. And the rest of Laurier’s native policies led to objectively worse outcomes for Canada’s Indigenous people. According to the DCB, “Sharing the common assumptions of their day, the members of Laurier’s cabinet aimed to cut costs in the administration of the Department of Indian Affairs and facilitate surrender of reserve lands; Indigenous people across the country were persuaded or coerced into giving up thousands of acres of land.” His government also ignored reports from Peter Henderson Bryce, Chief Medical Officer of the Department of Indian Affairs, detailing the deadly effect of tuberculosis in residential schools.
Adding to this sense of unfairness is the fact that Frank Oliver, recently dumped by Parks Canada for his views on immigration and Indigenous policy, served as a cabinet minister in Wilfrid Laurier’s Liberal government. Oliver takes the hit while his boss, who bore ultimate responsibility for all such policies, skates free.
Laurier also instituted measures to limit black, Chinese, Japanese and Indian migration to Canada. While Macdonald, under great political pressure, reluctantly imposed a $50 head tax on Chinese immigrants, Laurier deliberately raised this to a prohibitive $500. In announcing his policy, Laurier used explicitly racist language to explain the alleged impossibility of “Caucasian and Mongoloid” races cohabitating.
Despite all this, Laurier’s reputation has suffered none of the bile directed at Macdonald. His name is still in full view across the country, including at Wilfrid Laurier University in Waterloo, Ontario. And in contrast to Macdonald’s former home, Parks Canada’s Laurier House National Historic Site provides no signs alerting visitors to its former resident being “a monster”. Adding to this sense of unfairness is the fact Oliver, recently dumped by Parks Canada for his views on immigration and Indigenous policy, served as a cabinet minister in Laurier’s government. Oliver takes the hit while his boss, who bore ultimate responsibility for all such policies, skates free.
A Study in Champlain
The tale of two statues honouring the same French colonial explorer and soldier offers additional evidence of the puzzling dichotomy between how English and French Canadian historical figures are treated.
In 1925, a crowd estimated at 10,000 gathered on the shore of Lake Couchiching at Orillia, Ontario for the unveiling of a magnificent 36-foot-high monument to Samuel de Champlain, often considered the “Father of New France”. The monument featured Champlain on a plinth flanked by bronze “side groups” including Indigenous people. It was intended to symbolize the rapprochement between Canada’s English and French-speaking populations and the plaque at its base referenced “the advent of the white race into Ontario under the leadership of Samuel de Champlain.”
Such wording is off-putting today, although it reflected the era’s mainstream views. Attempts to modernize the monument stalled in 2017, and the statue and plaque were ultimately removed by Parks Canada, ostensibly for conservation. Two years later a working group recommended an altered version of Champlain be returned to his plinth, along with a new plaque. Parks Canada agreed, a move clearly aligned with local opinion. Today, however, the plinth still sits empty as Parks Canada has reneged on its earlier promise. Last year, Orillia formally requested Parks Canada give it back the land the plinth sits on.
How does Canada remember historical figures from French and English heritage differently?
French-Canadian figures are often shielded from scrutiny due to politics and cultural sensitivities, while English-speaking figures are more likely to face condemnation. For example, Sir John A. Macdonald is vilified for his policies on residential schools and immigration while Sir Wilfrid Laurier’s legacy remains intact, despite policies that are objectively worse than Macdonald’s.
The fate of Orillia’s Champlain statue is in sharp contrast to a similar tribute to the man in another part of Canada. This one also features him atop a grand plinth, this time surrounded by naked angels trumpeting his success as a soldier, colonizer and explorer. From his vantage point in Québec City, Champlain overlooks the St. Lawrence River and the famous Château Frontenac. This other statue of Champlain ought to be considered every bit as controversial as Orillia’s, given its heroic stance and colonial mien. And while it is technically owned by the local municipality, it sits on land adjacent to a National Historic Site administered by Parks Canada. Unlike the situation in Orillia, however, there is no sign of any concern on the part of Ottawa regarding its presence. Instead, the federal government abides Champlain in la Belle Province, while holding him hostage in Ontario.
Complexity Theory
The distinction in how English and French-Canadian historical figures are treated is further illustrated in the case of Lionel Groulx, who has not made the federal government’s naughty list but has been the subject of intense public scrutiny in his home of Québec.
Groulx was a mid-20th century clergyman and educator who pioneered the study of Québec history from a French-Canadian perspective. He was highly regarded by his contemporaries and exerted a towering influence over the province and its trajectory towards nationalism and self-determination. Groulx also expressed a variety of problematic views, however, including a 1933 pseudonymous screed regarding how to solve the “Jewish problem” (“Le problème juife”) and the prospect for a boycott of Jewish businesses.
In recent years, as woke Québec progressives sought to emulate their English-Canadian peers, petitions popped up demanding Groulx’s name be removed from public view. As a result of this controversy, in 2024 an annual prize for the best French-language history was changed from Prix Lionel-Groulx to Grand Prix de l’Institut d’histoire de l’Amérique française. While this was in keeping with the fate of the former Sir John A. Macdonald Prize for the best Canadian history book written in English which was also renamed, other demands regarding changing the names of metro stops or buildings honouring Groulx were soundly rejected by the Québec public.
The response from the Université de Montréal offers an object lesson in how such demands ought to be treated. Following calls that it strike Groulx’s name from the nine-storey Pavillon Lionel-Groulx on its main campus, the school set up a committee to examine the issue. Its final report recommended the building’s name be kept as is. “Although some of his positions are contrary to Université de Montréal’s modern-day values, particularly those related to diversity, equity and inclusion, the majority of the experts consulted by the committee were of the opinion that the racism, misogyny and antisemitism expressed in Groulx’s work were not central to his thought,” the report states.
The report recognized that Groulx was a complicated man who held some despicable views. But that alone shouldn’t render him incompatible with public recognition today.
The report also recognized the difficulties in judging any past life by current standards. “Father Groulx,” it argues, “did not contribute to the development of these ideologies but rather reflected the dominant thinking among Roman Catholic intellectuals of his time and the prejudices of that era, when the clergy wielded considerable influence in Québec and in academia.” While this statement is suspect in many ways – other “Catholic intellectuals”, as well as many non-intellectuals, would risk or sacrifice their lives to save Jews from the Nazis – the main point that Groulx’s overall significance exceeds his minor role in this issue stands.
In short, the university’s report recognized that Groulx was a complicated man who held some despicable views. But that alone shouldn’t render him incompatible with public recognition today. The mystery is why such a sensible notion doesn’t apply equally to English Canada’s historical figures.
Masters of Our Own History
Three factors are likely at work in explaining this linguistic historical distinction. First is that wokism has been a mainly Anglo-centric fixation. At the height of the global statue-toppling craze in 2020 when politicians around the world went silent in the face of angry mobs, French President Emmanuel Macron took a strong and principled stand in defence of historical fact. “The Republic will erase no trace or names of its history,” he declared in a nationally-televised address. “It will overturn no statues. We must instead lucidly look together at our history, all our memory…[with no] hateful, false rewriting of the past.” Statues and other significant historical markers were then placed under police protection. In a similar vein, Québec premier Francois Legault called the toppling of a Macdonald statue in Montréal in 2020 “unacceptable” and vowed to replace it. Inherent Gallic pride may in itself be a defence against wokist historical destruction.
It can also be argued that history matters more to francophone Quebecers than other Canadians due to their unique circumstances. As a small island of mostly French language and culture in the vast English-speaking ocean of North America, Québec’s French-speaking residents are more attuned to the significance of having, maintaining and defending a common identity and heritage. That sense of honouring the past animates the Université de Montréal’s refusal to remove Groulx’s name from its campus.
This convergence of linguistic, cultural and political factors has apparently left Quebecers unwilling to sacrifice the truth of their own history for current ideological fashion.
The final element at play is political. Given the importance of culture and identity to Québec, it is not a stretch to argue that taking on the legacy of Laurier or Champlain in Québec would be a risky proposition for any government, considering the potential public backlash. This factor is even more sensitive given our soon-to-be-former “Sunny Ways” prime minister and his federal Liberal Party’s long history of political reliance on Québec voters.
This convergence of linguistic, cultural and political factors has apparently left Quebecers unwilling to sacrifice the truth of their own history for current ideological fashion. Meanwhile, the heritage of English Canadians is regularly eviscerated at the altar of political correctness and ideological fantasy.
Regardless of the explanation, it isn’t right. Among the purposes of historical commemorations is to make Canada’s past accessible and literally visible to Canadians across the country. Those now-disappearing plaques were meant to spark curiosity and discussion, providing an important contribution in communicating Canada’s history. They tell a series of small, distinct chapters in our evolution as a country and of the people, places and events that shaped it for good or for ill and sometimes for both. The removal of any leaves all Canadians poorer.
And with Davin, Scott, Oliver and Dewdney now disappeared, who else will be on the chopping block? And what are the standards, beyond current political whims and cultural/language considerations? History shouldn’t play favourites. To hear Parks Canada tell it, “History includes fascinating stories of greatness, valour, exploration, and innovation but also stories that are challenging, uncomfortable and, in some cases, tragic. National historic designations reflect this diverse range of subjects.” Based on the agency’s current activity, however, this is definitely not the case.
If Ottawa can find a way to honour the French-speaking Beausoleil despite his complexity and many flaws, surely we can do the same for English-speaking Dewdney, Scott, Davin and Oliver.
Larry Ostola served as Vice-President of Heritage Conservation and Commemoration at Parks Canada and is the editor of a 2021 collection of James Wolfe’s personal correspondence, Your Most Obedient and Affectionate Son, and co-author of the 2008 book Military History of Quebec City 1608-2008.
Source of main image: The Canadian Press/Lars Hagberg.