Rainbow flags and politics intertwined yesterday as Montreal’s Pride Parade transformed downtown streets into a celebration of both identity and civic engagement. As someone who’s covered political movements across Canada, I found this year’s parade particularly striking for how seamlessly it blended festivity with serious political messaging.
The parade route along René-Lévesque Boulevard saw over 12,000 marchers representing 150 community groups, political parties, and corporate sponsors—making it one of the largest Pride events in Canada this year. What caught my attention wasn’t just the scale, but how the celebration has evolved into a significant political platform.
“Pride has always been political,” explained Marie-Claude Savard, executive director of Fierté Montréal. “This year we’re especially focused on making space for transgender rights and Indigenous two-spirit visibility.” I spoke with Savard before the parade as volunteers applied finishing touches to the lead float featuring the progress Pride flag with its added black, brown, and trans flag elements.
The political dimension was impossible to miss. Prime Minister Justin Trudeau marched near the front, flanked by several cabinet ministers and MPs. Quebec Premier François Legault, notably absent last year, joined the parade after criticism from LGBTQ+ advocates. His presence seemed calculated to mend political fences after his government’s controversial Bill 2, which many trans rights advocates had criticized for its initial language regarding gender markers on identification documents.
“Having politicians here matters, but what matters more is what they do when they return to Parliament or the National Assembly,” said Thomas Leclair, a 29-year-old teacher watching the parade with friends. This sentiment resonated throughout the crowd—appreciation for political presence tempered with demands for substantive action.
The federal NDP contingent distributed pamphlets highlighting their proposed national action plan against hate crimes, which have risen 72% against LGBTQ+ Canadians since 2019, according to Statistics Canada data released last month. Conservative Party representatives were fewer in number but emphasized their “inclusive conservative vision” through brochures and conversations with parade-goers.
I walked alongside Jordan Wilson, a two-spirit activist from Kahnawake Mohawk Territory, who carried an eagle staff with Pride colors. “Indigenous queer and two-spirit people have existed since time immemorial,” Wilson told me. “Colonial systems tried to erase us, but we’re reclaiming our place both in our communities and in this movement.”
Municipal politics played a visible role as well. Mayor Valérie Plante, surrounded by city councillors, announced a $2.5 million funding package for LGBTQ+ community organizations over the next three years. The announcement, made at a pre-parade breakfast, received mixed reactions from community members I spoke with.
“That funding is welcome, but we need structural change too,” said Elena Renaud, director of Trans Health Montreal. “Housing insecurity affects queer and trans people disproportionately, especially youth. One-time funding announcements make good parade headlines, but we need sustained policy reform.”
The intersection of immigration and LGBTQ+ rights emerged as a significant theme this year. A large contingent of newcomers to Canada marched under a “Refugees Welcome” banner, highlighting the plight of those fleeing persecution based on sexual orientation or gender identity.
Ahmed Hamdan, who arrived from Lebanon two years ago and now works with Rainbow Railroad, an organization helping LGBTQ+ people escape persecution worldwide, shared his perspective: “Canada saved my life, but our immigration system still creates barriers for queer asylum seekers. Many arrive with trauma and then face delays in processing that extend their suffering.”
Corporate presence at the parade sparked debate among attendees. Major banks and telecommunications companies displayed rainbow-themed floats and handed out branded merchandise. Some participants questioned the authenticity of this support.
“I’m always skeptical when I see rainbow capitalism,” remarked Sophie Tremblay, a 42-year-old software developer watching from the sidelines. “These same companies fund politicians who vote against our rights. Pride isn’t just about putting rainbow logos on your products for one month.”
The political undercurrent of Montreal Pride reflects broader trends I’ve observed across Canada. Pride events have become essential stops on the political campaign trail, particularly as federal parties position themselves ahead of next year’s anticipated election.
What struck me most was how younger attendees engaged with the political elements of Pride. Students from Concordia and McGill universities carried signs connecting LGBTQ+ rights to climate justice, economic inequality, and Indigenous sovereignty—suggesting a more intersectional approach to advocacy than previous generations.
“Our liberation is connected to everyone’s liberation,” explained Jay Martinez, a 20-year-old student organizer I met near the parade’s conclusion. “We can’t separate LGBTQ+ rights from other struggles for justice.”
As the last floats passed and street cleaners began their work, I reflected on how Montreal Pride exemplifies the evolving relationship between celebration and political action in Canadian civic life. The rainbows and music create a joyful atmosphere, but underneath runs a current of serious political engagement that politicians ignore at their peril.
Pride may have become more mainstream and commercially viable over the decades, but its political heart continues to beat strongly on Montreal’s streets—reminding everyone that rights once won must be continually defended, and that the work of building a truly inclusive society remains unfinished.
