Yesterday, Pierre Poilievre was elected leader of the Conservative Party of Canada – and for the first time since he become Prime Minister in 2015 and Stephen Harper stepped down as leader of the Conservatives, Justin Trudeau has a truly formidable political opponent. The 43 year-old populist firebrand, who supported the freedom convoy and opposed vaccine mandates, is a political wunderkind, having first been elected to the Canadian Parliament in 2004, aged 25. Since then he has been re-elected at every subsequent election.
The liberal Canadian media likes to describe him as a “conspiracy theorist”, largely because he accused Trudeau of wanting to impose a ‘Great Reset’ on Canada in 2020. In August 29th of this year, he held a leadership rally in which he said “I will ban all my ministers from getting involved in the World Economic Forum”. Just in case that wasn’t clear enough, he added: “If any of my ministers want to go to that big, fancy conference of billionaires with the World Economic Forum in Davos… they better make it a one-way ticket because they won’t be back in the Cabinet.”
You can watch a video of that campaign rally here.
Politico has compiled 43 things you need to know about Justin Trudeau’s new rival that you can find here. For those who can’t be bothered to read it, here’s what you need to know:
What emerges from a look back at Poilievre’s more than 25 years in politics is a portrait of a man who has been remarkably consistent – pugilistic, articulate, anti-elitist, aggressively partisan and fiercely dedicated to individual freedom and small government.
My kind of politician.
Maclean’s, Canada’s well-known general interest monthly, published a good-ish profile of Poilievre (pronounced “paul-ee-EV”) in March. If you can get past the liberal bias, it contains some valuable insights, such as the following:
Talking to this would-be prime minister at length instead of watching him on the political stage is compelling and disorienting at the same time. Poilievre’s answers are slow and deliberative, and there’s a depth of insight that’s uncommon on Parliament Hill. You get the sense of a human being in there who really believes many of the ideas he advances. He’s funny, occasionally self-deprecating. He is, in short, impressive and likable.
But if you even brush up against the electrified buzzer of a partisan issue, a trapdoor opens in the floor, plunging you into Skippyland. Here, the intelligence becomes a switchblade, the complexity of thought a dust storm in which you can’t find the point you were sure you had.
Worth reading in full.