Alberta’s separation referendum is a threat to Canada’s national unity and economic stability

Critics have rightly characterized Alberta’s behaviour as that of a “spoiled child of Confederation” throwing a temper tantrum to extract concessions from the rest of Canada. 

 

By Fareed Khan
A version of this article can be found on Substack.

Premier Danielle Smith’s decision to include a question on Alberta’s October 19, 2026 referendum—asking whether the province should remain in Canada or begin the legal process toward a binding separation vote—represents a dangerous escalation of regional grievances. Though framed by Smith as non-binding and exploratory, this move risks normalizing secessionist rhetoric, creating profound economic uncertainty, straining Indigenous relations, and undermining Canadian unity at a moment when Canada is engaged in a low grade economic conflict with United States, which is already testing the federation’s resilience. Far from a principled stand for Alberta’s interests, the initiative appears primarily designed to pacify the separatist wing of Smith’s United Conservative Party (UCP), a politically expedient but foolish strategy that could ignite a fire the rest of Canada would be forced to deal with.

Smith has positioned herself as a defender of Alberta’s autonomy, yet the referendum’s timing and structure betray internal party management as the driving force. A vocal separatist faction within the UCP has long demanded stronger action against perceived federal overreach on energy, equalization, and resource development. By advancing this multi-part ballot, Smith offers symbolic concessions without immediate commitment to independence, allowing her to rally the base while claiming personal loyalty to Canada. Polls consistently show most Albertans oppose separation, with roughly 60% indicating they would vote to remain. Yet the premier’s maneuver keeps fringe demands alive, prioritizing short-term UCP cohesion over long-term provincial and national stability.

This approach echoes the cautionary tales of the 1995 Quebec sovereignty referendum and the 2016 Brexit vote. In Quebec, the “Yes” side came within 54,000 votes (a razor-thin 49.42% to 50.58%) of victory, plunging the province and country into years of uncertainty, market volatility, and constitutional wrangling. The near-miss forced federal responses like the Clarity Act, which set strict conditions for any future secession negotiations, and highlighted how even non-binding or ambiguous votes can legitimize division and erode investor confidence.

Brexit provides an even starker parallel. Then-Bank of England Governor Mark Carney, now Canada’s Prime Minister, witnessed firsthand how a referendum sold as a “bluff” or negotiating lever produced profound, unintended consequences. Promises by pro-Brexit forces of an easy divorce from the European Union gave way to years of negotiation, supply-chain disruptions, regulatory divergence, and reduced growth. Studies estimate Brexit reduced UK GDP by 6-8% by 2025, with business investment falling 12-18%, employment and productivity each declining 3-4%. Uncertainty depressed capital formation, diverted management attention, and prompted firms to relocate. Carney has explicitly warned that Alberta’s vote risks similar “dangerous bluff” dynamics where voters may support it expecting better terms, only to unleash protracted economic instability.

Alberta’s economy, which contributes approximately 15% to Canada’s GDP, is heavily reliant on energy exports and foreign investment making it particularly vulnerable. Heightened constitutional uncertainty would deter long-term capital commitments in the oil and gas sector and related infrastructure. Business leaders and advocacy groups like Alberta’s Voice have already signalled concerns about reputational damage. In a global investment landscape wary of political risk, even exploratory secession talk shifts focus from productivity-enhancing reforms in health care and inter-provincial trade barriers to constitutional unpredictability. This occurs as Canada faces economic pressures from the US, making internal division especially self-defeating.

The referendum also threatens relations with Indigenous communities, on whose treaty lands much of Alberta sits. Courts have twice rejected separatist initiatives on constitutional grounds, citing failures to consult First Nations whose treaties are with the Crown, not the province. In May 2026, Justice Shaina Leonard quashed a citizen initiative petition, affirming that separation would infringe Constitutional rights under Section 35 and that the province breached its legal duty to consult affected First Nations, including the Athabasca Chipewyan First Nation and Blackfoot Confederacy groups. The decision made clear that Alberta cannot unilaterally redraw borders or abrogate treaty rights with The Crown. Pursuing this path despite these rulings risks protracted litigation, eroded trust, and legal invalidation—further inflaming tensions rather than resolving grievances.

Critics have rightly characterized Alberta’s behaviour as that of a “spoiled child of Confederation” throwing a temper tantrum to extract concessions from the rest of Canada. While Alberta has long been a net contributor to federal equalization and fiscal transfers, holding the country to ransom over resource revenue sharing and policy imbalances is not the way to get results. Framing separation—or the threat of it—as leverage resembles blackmail rather than legitimate negotiation. This alienates other provinces and Canadians who view Alberta’s economic wealth as intertwined with national infrastructure, markets, and stability. The rest of Canada would bear significant costs in any breakup scenario, and Alberta itself would face isolation, currency questions, trade barriers, and loss of federal programs and other national and international benefits that come from being part of Canada.

Compounding these risks are reports of Alberta separatist consultations with US State Department officials, which some Canadians interpret as bordering on treasonous outreach to a foreign power amid bilateral economic tensions. While details vary, such engagements feed narratives of disloyalty and invite foreign interference risks, as security analyses have noted exploitation of Western grievances by external actors.

Politically, the move normalizes secessionist discourse. What begins as Alberta-specific discontent could inspire parallel autonomy or sovereignty debates in other provinces, other than Quebec where separatism has been an issue for more than 50 years.  It would create a domino effect that would fragment Confederation and impact political stability and the finances and job prospects of Canadians. At a time of external economic attack, Canada can ill afford self-inflicted wounds like Alberta’s that weaken negotiating leverage, deter investment, and distract from unified responses on trade, energy, and security. 

The path Smith has chosen is dangerous and short-sighted. It risks economic decline through capital flight and stalled projects, damages Indigenous relations, fosters political instability, and threatens the national unity that has underpinned Canada’s prosperity. History shows referendums on existential questions rarely deliver clean outcomes.  Instead they amplify divisions, create uncertainty, and deliver consequences far beyond initial expectations—as Quebec and the UK learned painfully.

Albertans deserve better than performative politics that prioritizes pacifying a radical base over pragmatic governance for the vast majority in the province. True leadership would seek to address critical issues like health care funding, overcrowded classrooms, affordable housing, and deteriorating infrastructure through constructive federal-provincial negotiations, not by gambling with the federation’s future. The October referendum may not be legally binding, but its political and economic ripples could prove costly for Alberta and Canada alike. Canadians outside Alberta will inevitably have to deal with its negative repercussions, highlighting why this fire should never have been lit. 

© 2026 The View From Here. © 2026 Fareed Khan. All Rights Reserved.

Danielle Smith’s assault on the Charter of Rights: The latest chapter in a saga of provinces violating rights

As authoritarianism creeps in through provincial actions, it turns provinces into fiefdoms where there are rights for some but not for others.

  
By Fareed Khan

A version of this article can be found on Substack.
  

In the early hours of October 28th, as members of the Alberta legislature sat bleary-eyed after a marathon session, Premier Danielle Smith’s United Conservative Party rammed through Bill 2, the so-called “Back to School Act.” This draconian piece of legislation didn’t just end a three-week strike by more than 51,000 teachers—the largest walkout in the province’s history—it invoked Section 33 of the Canadian Constitution, the notorious “notwithstanding” clause, to suspend the fundamental rights of those educators to associate, bargain collectively, and strike. Teachers, who had walked out on October 6th demanding better wages, smaller class sizes, and support for students with complex needs, were ordered back to work by Wednesday, October 29th, under threat of $5000 daily fines for individuals and up to $500,000 per day for their union.

 

The four-year contract that was imposed on the teachers offers a meagre 12% wage increase, the hiring of 3,000 additional teachers and 1,500 educational assistants, without addressing the other issues—a deal that the teachers had rejected by 89.5% in September. Premier Smith, conveniently absent on a trade mission to Saudi Arabia, justified the “nuclear option” of using Section 33 as a moral imperative for student welfare, demanding swift action.

But this was no existential emergency of war or insurrection, the dire scenarios envisioned when the notwithstanding clause was forged in 1982 as a compromise to repatriate the Constitution. It was a calculated political move to strip Charter protections not for reasons of public security, but to crush political dissent and impose a rejected deal. This act cements Danielle Smith’s transformation from libertarian firebrand to anti-democratic fascist, and a threat to democracy in Alberta.

Elected in 2022 by a razor-thin margin within her party—scarcely 1% of Alberta voters—she has since pursued a relentless centralization of authority, eroding the checks and balances that define liberal democracy. The teachers’ strike was merely the latest flash point in a pattern of authoritarian overreach. 

Recall the “Alberta Sovereignty Within a United Canada Act” of 2022, which critics decried as a dictatorial blueprint allowing cabinet to nullify federal laws without legislative scrutiny and bypassing the courts. At the time NDP Deputy Leader Sarah Hoffman warned it handed Smith “dictatorial powers,” a sentiment echoed by constitutional scholars who saw it as an assault on parliamentary sovereignty. Then there was Bill 20 in May 2024, granting cabinet unchecked authority to fire municipal councillors, overturn bylaws, and introduce political parties to local elections—targeting urban strongholds like Edmonton and Calgary while sparing rural UCP bastions. Mayors decried it as “authoritarian,” a “power grab” that would chill free speech and strip voters of their elected representatives. Edmonton’s Amarjeet Sohi called it a degradation of local democracy, while Calgary’s Jyoti Gondek warned it erodes the public’s right to choose their governance.

Smith’s fascism isn’t bombast, it’s real and a danger to democratic norms. She styles herself as a “freedom-loving” premier, yet her policies reveal an oxymoronic “authoritarian libertarianism”—a worldview where individual liberty means obedience to her party’s unmediated truth, where dissent is vilified as villainy, a style very similar to that of Donald Trump. As political scientist Patricia Roberts Miller explains, this ideology thrives on victimhood, justifying coercion against perceived threats. In Alberta, it manifests in political cronyism—patronage appointments to ethics bodies, threats to public servants’ pensions, and hobbling renewable energy to prop up fossil fuels. Her pursuit of an Alberta Pension Plan (APP), despite 63% public opposition to the idea and economists warning that Alberta’s claim to more than 50% of the Canada Pension Plan will never fly, also demonstrates authoritarian leanings. Similarly, her push for a provincial police force—which would have start-up cost of at least $366 million to transition from the RCMP, and annual operating costs of approximately $164 million, opposed by 67% of Albertans—centralizes coercive power, reducing oversight and ignoring the will of an overwhelming majority of Alberta residents.

These aren’t the choices of a self-proclaimed libertarian. They’re the decisions of a fascist manoeuvring to consolidate power, implement unpopular policies through state compulsion, echoing historical strongmen who draped tyranny in freedom’s garb. Bill 2 is the apex of this drift, but it’s not isolated to Alberta. Since 1982, provincial and territorial governments have invoked the notwithstanding clause 26 times—not in response to existential crises, but to advance partisan agendas at the expense of the Charter rights of Canadians. Quebec leads as the “worst offender,” using the clause 17 times over 43 years, including for Bill 21 (2019), which bans religious symbols for public workers, a law that disproportionately targets Muslim women and violates equality and religious freedom rights. The Quebec Court of Appeal upheld the bill in 2024, but not without acknowledging its “cruel and dehumanizing” impact on hijab-wearing teachers. Section 33 was also used for Bill 96 (2022) which violated the equality rights of English speaking Quebecers once again, by further curbing English use in public services.

Saskatchewan’s Scott Moe is another offender who invoked it in 2023 for the “Parents’ Bill of Rights,” violating the rights of transgender youth under the age of 16, endangering their security of the person—a policy Alberta mirrored in 2024 by shielding three anti-trans bills with the clause. Ontario’s Doug Ford wielded it on three occasions since 2018, slashing Toronto wards in 2018 (later stayed), limiting third-party election ads in 2021, and imposing contracts on 55,000 education workers in 2022—a decision which was reversed due to a massive backlash. However, the precedent lingers.

These right-wing premiers—Legault in Quebec, Ford in Ontario, Moe in Saskatchewan, Smith in Alberta—form a quasi-fascist phalanx, normalizing constitutional overrides that eviscerate minority rights under the guise of “parental rights,” “secularism,” or “fiscal prudence.” This proliferation threatens Canadian democracy at its core. The notwithstanding clause, born of a constitutional compromise to appease provincial premiers, was meant for “exceptionally rare circumstances”—not routine rights suspension to push political agendas. Yet its pre-emptive use—before courts can rule on legislation—transforms the Charter from a bulwark to protect human rights to suggestions that can be violated at the whim of a government, making the current situation no different than it was before the Charter of Rights was adopted.

The use of the clause erodes judicial independence and public trust, and allows government to behave no differently than one would find in countries led by authoritarians. As former prime minister Justin Trudeau warned in 2022, Canadians themselves should be extremely worried about the increased willingness of provincial governments using the notwithstanding clause pre-emptively to suspend their fundamental rights and freedoms . . . The Charter of Rights and Freedoms cannot become a suggestion.”

In the above-mentioned provinces, representing 60% of Canadians, the use of Section 33 in all cases targets those with little power to push back against government—trans youth being discriminated against in schools, hijab wearing Muslim women barred from teaching or being public prosecutors, police officers or judges, teachers gagged from bargaining or legally protesting. This isn’t federalism, it’s fragmentation and balkanization. It a series of unsavoury instance where majority governments tyrannize minorities or impose their will on political opponents, thereby creating a patchwork of rights that mocks the concept of a nation where all rights are protected equally.

All Canadians—not just Albertans—should be alarmed. If unchecked, this contagion will invite broader erosions of rights, like in the United States, where voter suppression, ID mandates, academic censorship, grant vetoes for those not toeing the ideological line, or the weaponization of police against anti-government protests which are endangering American democracy.

The federal Liberal government bears a moral, legal, and constitutional duty to counter this fascist tide. Section 90 of the Constitution Act, 1867, empowers the Governor General-in-Council to disallow provincial laws, a relic of colonial oversight now a dormant shield for national values. Used 112 times until 1943, the power has atrophied amid cooperative federalism, but it remains viable given that it was retained in the Constitution Act 1982. Disallowing Charter Section 33 overrides of Smiths back to work bill, Saskatchewan’s pronoun law, or Quebec’s “secularism” law would enforce the Charter, declaring human rights non-negotiable in Canada.

Morally, Mark Carney’s Liberals must act. Canada’s hypocrisy—condemning human rights violations in countries like China, Russia, or Iran while ignoring domestic abuses—undermines its global credibility. Legally, invoking the power of disallowance would uphold the Charter’s supremacy. Politically, it would be popular, with recent polls showing that 58% of Canadians are deeply concerned about the use of Section 33, with 55% wanting the clause abolished. If he has the political will, Carney spend some political capital and rally Canadians by wielding Section 90 as a threat to compel first ministers to codify limits on Section 33’s use, and by referring the matter to the Supreme Court for a judicial opinion on those limits. Alternatively, the federal government could incorporate Section 90 into legislation to pre-emptively restrict both federal and provincial governments from invoking the notwithstanding clause except in the most dire emergencies, as originally envisioned.

As authoritarianism creeps in through provincial actions, it turns provinces into fiefdoms where there are rights for some but not for others. The federal government, steward of the Charter, must halt this drift or watch Canadian democracy fracture, not in a coup, but via a constitutional clause invoked casually, with rights denials renewed every five years like leases. All Canadians deserve better than to have their human rights violated on a whim by provincial governments, and it looks like it is up to the federal government to ensure that the Charter rights of Canadians don’t slowly dissolve away, until the Charter is a mere shadow of what it was intended to be, and Canadians are back to where they were in the era before the Charter where rights are no longer guaranteed.

© 2025 The View From Here. © 2025 Fareed Khan. All Rights Reserved.