Amal Attar-Guzman: Anaida Poilievre is the Conservative Party’s secret weapon

On September 10, 2022, after the Conservative party leadership race results were announced and the winner was declared, I didn’t necessarily plan on watching Pierre Poilievre’s speech. It was obvious he would win. Nevertheless, I am glad I decided to check it out—and not because of Pierre. I hadn’t expected to see something completely new burst onto the Canadian political stage, and yet I did.

That “something new” came in the form of Anaida Poilievre, a Venezuelan Canadian introducing her husband as the next leader of one of Canada’s oldest political parties. She immediately grabbed my attention as she began her speech. 

She spoke about how her family left Venezuela, arrived in Canada as refugees and settled in a working-class neighbourhood in East Montreal in the mid-’90s. Her father, formerly a bank manager back home, worked in Canada “jumping on the back of a pickup truck to collect fruits and vegetables” to provide for the family. Eventually, he became a small business owner and she and her siblings went on to make lives for themselves. 

Her experiences were relatable to me and the more than a million other Canadians who grew up in Latin American households; whose families immigrated and settled in Canada for a better, secure life. 

But that wasn’t the only interesting thing about Anaida’s speech. Not only was it in Canada’s two official languages of English and French. She also spoke in Spanish, a language that is rarely heard on any major Canadian political stage. Her tone, rhetoric, and storytelling technique also sounded so familiar to me. This was not a quintessential “Canadian” speech. It was a Latin American one. 

In just four minutes, Anaida stole the room. I was no longer looking at Pierre.

Some Latin American Canadians, especially Venezuelan Canadians (of which there are approximately 20,000), responded positively to Anaida’s performance. For many, it was the first time they felt heard and seen in Canadian politics. 

Afterward, when Anaida appeared on Quebec’s TVA program Le Bilan, Le Journal de Montréal’s Yasmine Abdelfadel commented that she is “self-confident,” “intelligent,” and “passionate.” She concluded that Anaida’s story is of an “accomplished Québécoise of Venezuelan origin that could become la prochaine dame of Canada.” 

It became obvious then that her triple identity as a Canadian/Québécoise/Venezuelan, alongside her professional experience, makes her a potent political asset for the Conservatives and a threat to the Liberal government, which often paints the Tories as anti-immigrant. She was an intriguing new voice in our public life.

Now that polls show the Conservatives are favoured to win the next federal election, we could not only have the first-ever Latin American Canadian spouse of a prime minister, but also the first one who arrived here as a refugee. It is time to consider what having Anaida Poilievre in that role may mean to Canadians and public policy at large.

Her speeches, interviews, and political ads tend to cover certain themes like social and economic mobility and meritocracy that appeal to Conservative voters. The foundation of her rhetoric is something not really seen before in Canadian politics, but it is widely known amongst us Spanish-speaking Latin Americans. It’s called “Ponte las pilas.”

The literal definition is “Put on your batteries,” but its figurative meaning is “get it together, “don’t give up,” “work harder,” or “keep pushing forward.” It’s much more than a motto you would see on a Spanish-language tote bag. It is a promise. The idea is that despite all the challenges we face, we will overcome them. We will not let anything or anyone hold us back, and we will ultimately get to a place where we are not just surviving but thriving.  

As Anaida said on the Latin American Canadian program TLN Connects, “We [Latin American Canadians] don’t want to be given any handouts; we want to get ahead on our own merits [and] want the opportunities to get ahead.” 

This mentality is not without its criticism. Some say it can breed toxic positivity and be used to even invalidate mental health challenges. Still, others find it aspirational. It’s a perspective that could be enticing to not only the Conservative base but also potential voters. In times of political and socioeconomic malaise, ponte las pilas could be seen as an antidote, especially for younger Canadians who are currently the least happy demographic in Canada. 

How Anaida’s presence could highlight Canada’s Latin American community remains to be seen. Some Venezuelan-Canadians believe she will make a difference. A man named Carlos, interviewed by New Canadian Media, said that while he had never heard of Anaida before and he does not generally align with the Conservative Party, her speech moved him to tears.

“I felt very identified as an immigrant, I identified 100 hundred percent,” he said.

Others are not convinced Anaida’s presence will change much. Cristina Pulido Vielma, a Venezuelan Canadian interpreter also interviewed by New Canadian Media noted that when she signed up for a Canadian politics course for the Latin American Canadian community, Conservatives did not participate. She criticized the party’s lack of Latin American Canadian outreach.

“All the federal parties except the Conservatives sent guest speakers. This shows how little they cared about making us part of their movement,” she said. “Now that Mr. Poilievre has a Venezuelan wife, it might make a difference to some…but I don’t think it will make any difference to others.”

Canada’s Latin American community, typically hailing from places like Mexico, Central and South America, and the Caribbean, sits at just over a million people, representing 3.3 percent of the population as of 2021. While it has experienced considerable growth in the past several years,  it is much smaller than the United States’ whopping 62.5 million Latin Americans, accounting for 19 percent of their population that same year. 

These demographics matter. Latin American Canadians don’t carry anywhere near the same political weight as their American cousins, whose votes have the power to make or break presidential elections. 

“[Canadian governments] don’t feel that pressure to understand the Latin American Canadian community,” explained Ana Karina Rizo, a Venezuelan Canadian lawyer and president of Ladies of Liberty Alliance Canada, in an interview with The Hub. 

The community’s political representation is minuscule. Minister of Transport Pablo Rodriguez is the first Latin American Canadian MP. He, along with Soraya Martinez Ferrada, are the only Latin American Canadian MPs holding cabinet positions and in the House of Commons. Across Canada, there are no serving Latin American Canadian politicians at the provincial and territorial levels of government, with the exception of Alejandra Zega Mendez and Andrés Fontecilla in Quebec. 

Because of this, certain inequities are underreported and under the radar. While there is limited research, studies have shown that Latin American Canadians are lagging behind other ethnic groups in terms of wages and education. In Toronto, because they were more likely to work in front-line jobs during the pandemic, they were seven times more likely to be hospitalized from COVID-19 than any other ethno-racial group. Most troubling, they had the second-highest mortality rate among immigrant communities affected by the virus. 

Latin American Canadians’ political participation is, however, generally quite high. Nearly 85 percent of eligible Latin American Canadians voted in the 2019 federal election, according to Statistics Canada. 

The community’s political views are varied and diverse. Some, having left countries ruled by socialist regimes, feel ideologically drawn to the Conservative Party. Others associate it with the U.S. Republican Party and automatically assume it is anti-immigrant, Rizo explains. 

Even though Latin American Canadians tend not to get deeply involved in Canadian politics outside of voting, in large part because they view it as stable compared to Latin American politics, Rizo says that the tides are changing. With rising inflation, health-care challenges, high housing prices, and broader affordability issues looming, Latin American Canadians may be mobilized to run for political office themselves.  

“[A]s you have more issues, people are feeling more invested to get involved,” explains Rizo.  

One Latin American Canadian who will no doubt be involved is Anaida. While spouses of Canadian prime ministers hold no official title or office, they do accompany their spouse abroad and meet other world leaders, give speeches, and most importantly can use their position to champion causes. For example, Sophie Grégoire-Trudeau focused on mental health issues and eating disorders during her time by Justin Trudeau’s side. 

Anaida has mentioned that she would focus on women’s issues, immigration, and, most strikingly, human trafficking. 

Overall, Anaida’s presence in federal politics will surely bring new energy and influence to the Conservatives, helping to attract and energize not only Latin American Canadians but other immigrant groups more broadly to see themselves at home in the CPC. And if my experience watching her a couple of years ago is illustrative, we’d be wrong to dismiss her.