MONTREAL — The aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingles with the bold rhetoric of Quebec sovereignty inside the newly opened Club Pays café on St-Hubert Street, a spot that's quickly positioning itself as more than just a place for lattes and pastries. Opened to the public on Friday, the venue — whose name translates to 'Country Club' in English — features walls adorned with posters bearing slogans for Quebec independence, comfortable couches, a polished-wood espresso bar, a small stage, and even a conference room. Run by the youth-led organization Oui Québec, the café aims to blend casual socializing with advocacy for a sovereign Quebec, offering visitors a taste of separatist politics amid a city already dotted with niche coffee shops catering to cat lovers, gamers, and ceramics enthusiasts.
Camille Goyette-Gingras, the 32-year-old president of Organisations unies pour l’indépendance (Oui Québec), sat amid the café's inviting setup as she explained its mission to The Canadian Press. “Some countries are born out of celebration,” one nearby poster proclaimed, echoing the group's vision. “We wanted to combine the spirit of celebration with the push for independence because, for us, creating a country is a moment of collective joy,” Goyette-Gingras said. The space has been operational for members and other advocacy groups since October, but its public debut has drawn curious onlookers from the surrounding neighborhood, known for its vibrant Latino community.
“People (were) banging on the window, for real,” Goyette-Gingras recounted, highlighting the genuine interest sparked by the café's presence. “You’d be surprised how often they come in to find out who this group of young people is that’s opening a café on St-Hubert. Their curiosity is sincere and wonderful, and we regularly have really interesting discussions.” Operators emphasize that Club Pays is designed to demystify the sovereignty movement, providing a welcoming forum for people from diverse backgrounds to ask questions and voice concerns. “For some people it’s the first time they meet a separatist,” she added. “When you only see things on television, it’s true that you don’t feel like you’re being spoken to as a human being.”
Beyond daily coffee service and snacks, the café will host events, serve as a co-working space, and foster discussions on Quebec culture and independence. Oui Québec members hope it inspires a network of similar sovereigntist venues across the province, drawing from models in other independence movements. Alex Valiquette, Oui Québec's communications lead, credited his idea to a student exchange in Spain last year, where he visited Barcelona bars and cafés supporting Catalonian separatism. “In Quebec, we’re already a society that invests and is known for its co-operatives and social economies. I was like, ‘Hey, there’s so much to do with that,'” Valiquette said. Proceeds from these spaces, he noted, help fund broader political activities for the groups involved.
The parallels between Quebec and Catalonia are not new. The Catalonian movement traces back to the 19th century, with autonomy abolished by Spanish dictator Francisco Franco in 1938. Catalans held an independence referendum in 2017, leading to the jailing of movement leaders as political prisoners; they were pardoned in 2021. Quebec politicians have long engaged with this cause: Bloc Québécois Leader Yves-François Blanchet and Québec solidaire's Ruba Ghazal have attended conferences in Catalonia and delivered letters to prisoners. In 2019, Quebec's National Assembly unanimously passed a motion supporting Catalonians, underscoring shared aspirations for self-determination.
Yet, despite the enthusiasm at Club Pays, public support for Quebec independence remains a tough sell. A CROP survey from August indicated that 56 percent of Quebecers aged 18 to 34 viewed independence favorably, signaling potential among younger demographics. However, broader polls in recent years consistently show only about 30 percent of Quebecers would vote yes in a sovereignty referendum, according to various reports. Valérie-Anne Mahéo, a political science professor at Université Laval, acknowledged the uphill battle but praised initiatives like the café for their democratic value. “It’s been a long time since we’ve had a proper debate on the pros and cons (of Quebec independence),” she said. “There is a new generation, one that has not experienced the high points of the ‘yes’ campaigns, that has not experienced the major societal debates on the future of Quebec.”
Mahéo views such grassroots spaces as essential for countering polarization and encouraging dialogue, even if most Quebecers aren't pushing for sovereignty right now. Goyette-Gingras, however, detects a “sovereigntist third wave” among the province's youth, fueled by broader social activism. She first embraced the movement during the 2012 student protests, when tens of thousands marched for weeks, clanging pots and pans against proposed university tuition hikes. That era of mobilization, she said, intertwined with independence ideals, helping to sustain Quebec's cultural resilience.
Cultural figures are amplifying this shift as well. Explicitly separatist artists like rapper Kinji00 and singer Lou-Adriane Cassidy are gaining traction; Cassidy recently won four ADISQ awards, including best female artist, and was shortlisted for the Polaris Music Prize. Online, meme pages promoting sovereigntist ideas boast over 100,000 followers, while separatist student groups have emerged in CEGEPs and universities across the province. Goyette-Gingras described this as a decentralization of the movement, moving it beyond traditional parties like the Parti Québécois and Québec solidaire. “While politicians have their role to play, the independence movement needs to be larger and more inclusive,” she said.
The café's location in a diverse, Latino-heavy neighborhood underscores this inclusivity. Goyette-Gingras stressed that Quebec culture endures through adaptation and integration with newcomers. “Quebec culture is enduring precisely because it is constantly changing. One of the things that has ensured that Quebec culture has always remained enduring is that it has become intertwined with the people who have settled in Quebec,” she explained. At Club Pays, she added, everyone is welcome, regardless of background, to engage in conversations about the province's future.
This venture arrives at a time of renewed talk about referendums, with millennial and Gen Z activists injecting fresh energy into the sovereignty debate. Operators claim Club Pays is the first of its kind in Montreal, filling a gap in a city brimming with specialized cafés but lacking a dedicated hub for independence discussions. The space's pre-public opening in October already built buzz, with non-members peering in and sparking impromptu chats that operators say humanize the cause.
Looking ahead, Oui Québec envisions expanding this model province-wide, leveraging Quebec's strong tradition of cooperatives to sustain the effort. Valiquette's experience in Barcelona highlighted how such venues can blend commerce with activism, a formula he believes fits Quebec's social economy. While polls suggest limited overall support, the café's operators point to youth trends as a sign of momentum, potentially reshaping the conversation on independence.
Experts like Mahéo caution that true progress requires balanced discourse, not just echo chambers, but she welcomes the café as a step toward that. As Montreal's café scene evolves, Club Pays stands out not just for its brew but for brewing ideas about nationhood in a relaxed setting. Whether it sparks a wider network or remains a local curiosity, it reflects a persistent undercurrent in Quebec politics, where dreams of sovereignty persist amid everyday life.
The opening comes as Quebec navigates broader identity questions, from language laws to immigration policies, all feeding into sovereignty discussions. Goyette-Gingras and her team hope Club Pays becomes a catalyst, inviting skeptics and supporters alike to sip coffee while pondering the province's path. For now, the venue's walls — alive with slogans and stories — offer a tangible slice of that vision, one cup at a time.