Why the ability to speak truth to power matters, and why Houston and his staff are quelling dissent

On Nov. 28, former Justice Minister and Attorney General Becky Druhan participated in a panel discussion and made a public admission that many of us in the advocacy space have long suspected: the centralized, leader-centric political environment cultivated under Premier Tim Houston’s government has stifled dissent and silenced critics.

Speaking alongside Independent MLA Elizabeth Smith McCrossin and Acadia political science professor Alex Marland, Druhan shared that her departure from cabinet was, in part, due to interference from staff who dictated what she was allowed to say as a government official. The most striking revelation from the article was the communication training she and other members of the party received after the 2021 election, where they were told that “every story should have an enemy,” and that identifying this enemy was a crucial part of crafting the party’s public message.

For anyone familiar with Nova Scotia’s political landscape, this is hardly a new or surprising development. As an activist and outspoken advocate in the province, I’ve been witnessing firsthand the way Premier Houston’s government has been operating to suppress critique; whether through veiled threats, intimidation, or outright silencing. I know this personally, as I’ve been the target of such tactics myself.

It started in the summer of 2021, shortly after Tim Houston’s government came into power. The Premier appointed Pat Dunn, a senior white man, to lead the African Nova Scotian Affairs portfolio. This appointment came a year after the murder of George Floyd, in the midst of a global racial reckoning, and seemed particularly tone-deaf in a province where the African Nova Scotian community has long been underrepresented in positions of power. I posted my thoughts about this decision on my social media accounts, calling for more diverse and representative leadership for the community.

I thought it was a straightforward appeal, as a member of the public and a constituent, for better representation in government. But the response I received was anything but typical. The first call came from a donor who was a well-known member of the PC party and connected to the nonprofit I worked for at the time. She strongly advised me to remove the post, explaining that my critique could jeopardize the organization’s future funding from the government. The message was clear: disagree with the Premier’s decisions, and risk being sidelined, or worse, blacklisted.

It was a classic attempt to silence dissent from someone who was used to being able to threaten people.  It was not by reasoned debate, but by leveraging access to power and wealth. I disagreed, firmly telling her that I had every right to express my opinion on matters of justice and equity. After all, what good is public service if you cannot speak up for the communities you represent? Moving forward, she refused to work with me on any projects.  I was used to this from some donors and was grateful that my employer stood by me.  And, it wasn’t the last time I would encounter this kind of pushback.

Months later, as I worked with my organization to submit a proposal for capital funding, I received word that Premier Houston’s chief of staff, Nicole LaFosse Parker, had spoken to one of our volunteers. My public criticism of the Premier, specifically around the use of non-disclosure agreements (NDAs) and other policies, was reportedly going to jeopardize the chances of securing funding. The message was again clear: tell her to stop talking.

It’s one thing for a politician to target you personally, but it’s entirely different to threaten to withhold public resources (funding that could support vital community initiatives) because of a difference of opinion. This was a blatant attempt to coerce silence by leveraging access to funding, and it only reinforced the toxic, centralized control that has come to define this government.

So, no, when Becky Druhan revealed that she left cabinet due to similar experiences of being silenced by the Premier’s staff, I wasn’t shocked. In fact, her story merely confirmed what I have experienced over the last five years under the Houston government. It’s become painfully clear that dissent is not tolerated, particularly when it challenges the narrative the Premier’s office is trying to maintain.

We’ve seen this in action over and over. Those of us who oppose this government’s policies (whether we’re advocating for environmental protections, gender-based violence prevention, or racial justice) are labelled “problem stretchers” or “professional protestors.” In the eyes of this government, it seems, if you’re not with them, you must be the enemy.

But here’s the thing: people like me, and the countless others who are taking to the streets and speaking out against policies we believe are harmful, are not doing this for fun. We actually have jobs, families, businesses, and communities to care for. We’re not protesting for the thrill of it; we’re doing it because we care deeply about the future of our province, and we are deeply concerned by the policies and attitudes being enacted by this government.

I’ve been trying to meet with my own MLA for over five years to discuss banning the misuse of NDAs.  I have made more than 20 requests to meet with Tim Halman, and every single time, I’ve been declined. Halman is too afraid to meet with his own constituent around an issue we disagree on. This is a government that claims to value transparency and accountability, yet refuses to engage with the very people it is meant to serve.

Becky Druhan’s decision to leave cabinet is just one example of the growing centralization of power in the Premier’s Office. It’s a pattern that has become all too familiar to those of us who have been on the receiving end of this administration’s attempts to silence critics. And it’s a pattern that matters. Not just because of the individuals it harms, but because it undermines the very principles of democracy that we should be preserving.

If we allow this kind of control to become the norm, we risk losing the ability to hold our government accountable. The power to speak truth to power is a cornerstone of a healthy democracy, and the more power is concentrated in the hands of one office, the less room there is for dissent, for diverse voices, and for true democratic discourse.

So, as we move forward into another year, let’s remember the lessons we’re learning from this government’s approach. Let’s remember the people—advocates, activists, and everyday Nova Scotians—who are standing up and speaking out, despite the pressures to remain silent. Our province deserves better than the kind of leadership that silences its citizens for daring to ask questions and speak truth. We must demand better. Because at the end of the day, our democracy depends on it.

Liz LeClair is an activist and advocate based in Nova Scotia.

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