Casual Vexillology: Montréal
Recently, the Province of Québec, and City of Montréal, have been wanting to revamp the Francophon-ity of the City. In a perfect world, in solidarity with them, I’d write this in French but, alas, here is what a conversation written using my knowledge of the language looks like:
‹‹ Bonjour. ››
‹‹ Oui. ››
‹‹ Non c’est une pomme! ››
‹‹ Moi aussi. ››
‹‹ Non. ››
‹‹ Merci beaucoup. ››
While I can’t help out from a language standpoint, I do have a, perhaps unwelcome, suggestion on where to start upending some Anglo-isms: the flag.
For the record, before I begin, I want to make it clear that I like Montréal’s flag. In my humble, subjective opinion, it’s pretty good lookin’. However, there have been some attempts to try and define what makes a good flag. The most notable try at this is by NAVA — the North American Vexillological Association. It’s a short list of five rules that all circle back to uniqueness and simplicity — and I don’t disagree with them. But, if I may be so bold, when comes to any art, because that’s what flags are, I’m a member of the Pirate’s Code School of Rules: they’re more like guidelines. (To be fair to NAVA, I believe they’d agree with me, they’re just trying to encourage vexillology, and I’m on board with them on that.)
Anyway, here’s what flies above 275 rue Notre-Dame:
A crash course:
The flag, based on the City’s coat of arms, is a Cross of St. George,* with a white pine in the center that creates a quardrisection design, with each section containing a heraldic symbol. From hoist to fly, upper to lower, these are: the Fleur-de-lys, the Red Rose of Lancaster (those who know me will understand my appreciation for this one), a shamrock, and a thistle. Personally, my takes are these: a.) I think it’s very clever, and as I’ve already said, it’s a good one. And, b.) the Province of Québec, and the City of Montréal may need to reevaluate it if they’re trying to Franc-ify.
Let’s begin with the newest addition to the flag, added in 2017, the white pine. Like all these symbols it represents a people, or in its case, peoples. The tree is for the First Nations of what is now Montréal, Québec, and Canada. Not only do I think it’s a great aesthetic addition to what was already a nice looking flag (just imagine the exact same thing as above, only without the tree), but I’d call it an objectively appropriate addition — and one that was long over due. Other cities across North America and around the world ought to take notice. And, should Montréal for whatever reason change its flag, this white pine should remain.
The rest of the symbols then, the ones in the cross’s sections, are heraldic, European ones in homage to the first large groups of settlers from the continent to Montréal. Two of them are rather obvious: the Fleur-de-lys for the French, a shamrock for the Irish. But perhaps many people — myself not included, if I may say so — may not gather the rose’s and the thistle’s representations. Actually, pause a moment, give it the tiniest amount of thought, and I’m sure you’ll get it. Plus, they’re every possibility that I’m being pompous and obtuse when I say these are not as obvious of symbols, and for that I apologize.
Okay: they’re for the English, and Scots, respectively. The thistle being a national symbol of Scotland, and Red Rose of Lancaster representing the English county of Lancashire which, incidentally, I was lucky enough to spent three terrific months in, in 2017. Generally a red rose is a representation of the whole of England as well, but it seems like most people agree the one on Montréal’s flag is distinctively Lancastrian. In any case, the final product is England.
But if we head further down this northwestern European path, however, you’ll note that, in typical British fashion, a representation of the Welsh is missing (oh, don’t worry, I’ll get into the Union Jack and the Welsh flags in due time) from a flag that otherwise represents the modern British Isles quite comprehensively. My guess is that this is because, for the longest time — as in from 1535 to 1993 — Wales was, in strictly legal terms, an incorporated part of England. Feel free to fact check, or provide more accuracy to that one. Some evidence for this dual-representation on Montréal’s flag comes from mtl.org, which says the Red Rose “…represents England (and Wales)” — yes it’s written with parentheses on the site. I’m sorry Welsh readers, if you’re out there.
And then there’s the *Cross.
While Montréal’s official website defines it as a recollection of “…the Christian thought and principles which governed the founders of Ville-Marie.”, anyone who knows anything about flags, the United Kingdom, or has witnessed the World Cup, will recognize that what’s on Montréal’s flag looks suspiciously like the Cross of St. George (which is why I called it that before) as in, the flag of England. I don’t have a dog in this fight, and I don’t want to stir up any squabbles, but I call ’em as I see ‘em.
By the way: Ville-Marie refers to the borough of the same name in central Montréal, where the original French fort, and later settlement, was raised.
So let’s revisit my takes:
I said it was clever, I liked it, and I stand by those statements. Not only does it include symbols of what makes a place a place: it’s people, but everything makes a pattern. A pattern that’s visual, and representational. And something I haven’t yet mentioned is Montréal’s cross-and-quadrisection design, whether intentional or unintentional, reflects the similarly formatted La Fleurdelisé — the flag for the Province of Québec.
I also said that I thought Montréal and Québec had a point in their observance of a waning Frenchness in the City, and are trying to do something about it. Again, I agree. After all, I believe Canada isn’t Canada without the Quebecois (that’s my opinion, anyway, as an American who’s only every entered Canada through the remote Quetico).
So, perhaps a good first step for the Province and City in working towards re-Franc-fication is — even though I don’t relish saying it — a new flag. One that isn’t riddled with British, and Anglo symbols.
