In a society increasingly defined by its outrage, the debate over religious symbols in public life has ignited strong feelings across Canada. A recent column from Calgary highlights the visceral reaction many feel towards Quebec's secularism legislation, which restricts the wearing of overt religious symbols by certain public servants.
The Anatomy of Outrage in a Diverse Society
Outrage, defined as a strong reaction of anger or indignation, has become a hallmark of modern discourse. It was no surprise when Oxford Dictionary selected "rage bait" as its word of the year, reflecting the current climate of societal rudeness. This emotional landscape forms the backdrop for the ongoing controversy surrounding Quebec's secularism laws.
The original law, known as Bill 21, was passed in June 2019. It prohibits public officials in positions of authority, including teachers and police officers, from wearing visible religious symbols like hijabs, turbans, kippahs, or large crosses while at work. For many outside Quebec, particularly in multicultural cities like Calgary, this legislation has provoked a sense of fury and disapproval.
A Calgary Viewpoint: Contrasting Realities
From the perspective of columnist Catherine Ford in Calgary, the law feels like a targeted measure. She notes that in her daily life, she interacts with a Sikh store owner wearing a turban, a Muslim cashier in a hijab, and Jewish family members wearing yarmulkes—all without a second thought. This stands in stark contrast to the reality the law creates in Quebec.
Ford points out the historical irony: while the law now bans such symbols, the fight for religious accommodation in national institutions was hard-won. The RCMP only began allowing turbans in 1990 and permitted hijabs in 2016. Furthermore, the initial passage of Bill 21 was met with outrage because it was seen as unfairly targeting those not of "pure laine"—a Quebec term referring to descendants of original French settlers.
Symbols, Culture, and the Crucifix Controversy
The debate over what constitutes a religious versus a cultural symbol came to a head with the crucifix in Quebec's National Assembly. For 80 years, a crucifix hung above the speaker's chair. When challenged, Premier François Legault and others argued it was a cultural heritage symbol, not a religious one. This claim was met with derisive laughter from critics like Ford, who asked how a cross bearing the figure of Christ could be anything but Christian.
Public pressure eventually prevailed, and the crucifix was removed to a museum after the secularism law was passed. This sequence of events underscored the perceived double standard at the heart of the controversy for many critics.
The issue remains live. In August 2025, the Committee to Study Respect for the Principles of the State Secularism Act and Religious Influences, co-chaired by Christiane Pelchat and Guillaume Rousseau, unveiled a report with recommendations, suggesting the debate is far from settled. The proposed expansion of the law in 2025 has reignited the national conversation.
For Ford and many watching from Canada's diverse urban centres, the fundamental question persists: in a country built on pluralism, can state secularism coexist with individual religious expression, or must one inevitably suppress the other? The outrage felt in Calgary is a testament to the deep values of inclusion that many Canadians hold dear, values they feel are being challenged by legislation in another part of their own country.
