April 1 2026
There are moments in a democracy when, faced with unruly behaviour by some, order must be restored for everyone else. The question is where the line is drawn before the public is pushed out of the room altogether.
Last week at Nova Scotia’s Province House in Halifax, that line was crossed.
On March 24, a late-night budget vote was interrupted by protesters singing from the public gallery. Proceedings stalled and the Speaker adjourned the House of Assembly. Outside, police were called after other protesters blocked exits. One person was arrested and later released.
The next morning, the response widened. Province House was closed to the public – not just the gallery, but the grounds and committee rooms as well. Officials said the move was meant to prevent further disruption and allow the House to conduct its business. The budget passed.
But let’s be clear. This government, which holds a supermajority, faced no real threat to passing the budget and still chose to proceed only after ensuring that no member of the public – not just the songbirds and shovers – could be present.
Removing disruptive individuals is one thing. Removing public access to the institution of self-governance itself is another. That access is not incidental. It is baked into our history, taught in our schools, held up to newcomers as proof of our longstanding commitment to public participation in government.
In 1848, under the leadership of Joseph Howe and others, the idea that those who exercise power must answer to an elected assembly became the law of the land. At the time, government conducted in view of the public, accountable to it and open to scrutiny was a radical model – one that would shape parliamentary democracy.
When this government shut that down last week, the message it sent was not that some people can’t be trusted; it was that all people can’t be trusted. And that message was heard loud and clear.
Claudia Chender, leader of the Official Opposition and Nova Scotia NDP leader, was not wrong when she said, “It is a right for people to visit Province House … there’s a reason we call this the people’s house.”
True, the speaker’s office emphasized that Province House remained open to MLAs, staff and accredited media, and that proceedings would continue to be broadcast online and on cable.
But watching is not the same as being there.
Voting aside, rights and protections in any democracy are almost always secured by argument, agitation, protest and persistence, sustained by the expectation that people may gather, object, witness, challenge and, at times, make those in power uncomfortable.
That’s not a flaw in the system. It is the system.
By the same token, governments – especially those with commanding majorities – have a particular obligation to understand they do not merely govern through election results.
They are responsible for protecting the culture of political participation that gives meaning to their mandate. And that is nothing less than the public’s place in the room where decisions are made in its name.