Ever since I first became interested in
the history of the credit union movement, I've wanted to visit
Levis, a suburb of Quebec City and home of the very first credit
union in North America. Founded by
Alphonse Desjardins in his home
as the
Caisse Populaire de Levis in
1900, the model pioneered in Quebec quickly spread and was
instrumental in the establishment of the American movement.
However,
in American historiography, the French Canadian element of the credit
union story is treated as something of a prologue, and tends to
conclude with Desjardins' meeting with, and inspiration of, Edward
Filene in 1908. After that moment, the focus of the dominant
narrative shifts to the work of the Filene / Bergengren team in the
United States. While their story is vitally important to
understanding the nature of credit unionism in the US, I've been quite
curious to learn more about the work, life, and legacy of Desjardins.
Happily,
I got just that chance during a recent family vacation to Quebec
City, when I was able to convince my parents and partner (with
promises of micro-brews and chocolate) to accompany me on a ferry
ride across the St. Lawrence to Levis. The town itself, situated at
the top of a steep cliff, has long been a working-class suburb of the
provincial capital and, after climbing the long set of stairs leading
up from the ferry dock, we headed towards the steeple of the Catholic
church.
The
stately white house's location at the edge of the church green was
clearly convenient for members whose common bond was the parish, and
the building is now prominently marked with a sign identifying it as
"Maison Alphonse Desjardin." When we arrived, we were
greeted at the door by an enthusiastic and knowledgeable bi-lingual
docent named Patrick Lafrance, who took us on the (free) tour as soon
as we arrived.
The
house itself has been restored, thanks to the financial support of
the Desjardins Caisse Populaire federation,
to how it would have looked in 1906, and our guide mixed a great deal
of fascinating Quebec social history into the tour, including a
discussion of the distribution of electric lamps in the house
(electricity was put first in rooms that could be seen from the
street) and the black cross hanging in the kitchen (a symbol of the
Catholic temperance movement, of which Desjardins was a supporter).
Many of the artifacts in the house were original, and in each room
our guide filled us in on the origins, functions, and social meaning
of a great diversity of items, from cutlery to furniture to
wallpaper.
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The First CU Office! |
After
touring the other rooms in the house, through which the social,
economic, and cultural context of North America's first credit union
was established, our final stop was the small office out of which
Desjardins and his wife, Dorimene, ran the Caisse Populaire
de Levis in its formative years.
Our guide made a point to emphasize how critical Dorimene was to its
success, since Alphonse's job as the French language reporter for the
Canadian Parliament meant he lived six months out of the year in
Ottawa. As a result, Dorimene was primarily responsible for the
successful operation of the Caisse for
long periods of time, and she is now remembered as its co-founder.
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Toking for Economic Democracy? |
On the
original desk sits the original ledger-book, a handsome,
leather-bound volume that covers the years 1901-1908. Also heavily
present in the office (and scattered around other parts of the house
as well) are numerous pipes. According to our guide, it is believed
that Desjardins bought himself a pipe for each Caisse
he helped successfully found, which was well in excess of one
hundred. Many of the books in the space are also original, although
his correspondence has been moved to the archives of the Desjardins
federation (which is also in Levis).
After
thanking Patrick, purchasing pretty much everything available in the
gift shop, and getting some amazing chocolate-dipped ice-cream at Chocolat Favoris, a shop a couple blocks from the museum, we hopped
on the ferry and returned to Quebec City. However, leaving Levis did
not mean our encounters with Desjardins' legacy were over; rather,
unlike the American credit union pioneers, he has achieved a
significant and recognizable place in Quebec's historical
consciousness.
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Fancy seeing you here... |
The
first real indication of this came as we walked through the streets
of the old city from the Ferry back to our hotel. En route, we
encountered an enormous, multi-story mural portraying historically
important people from various eras on the streets of Quebec. It was
quite the spectacle, so we stopped for a few minutes to take it in.
As we examined it, we suddenly noticed a familiar face, and went over
to look at the guide. Sure enough, Alphonse Desjardins was standing
next to Samuel de Champlain, the French explorer widely credited as
one of the founders of Quebec. In an American context, this would be
like seeing Edward Filene or Roy Bergengren portrayed in a mural as a
figure of equivalent importance to Lewis and Clark or George
Washington.
This
sense of the prominent place of Desjardins and the caisses
populaires in the historical
identity of Quebec was further confirmed the following day when we
visited the Quebec history exhibit at the Museum of Civilization. In
an exhibit whose subject stretched from the indigenous pre-history of
the First Nations to the recent near secession from Canada, fully
half of the display on the development of banking in Quebec was
focused on the caisse populaire movement
(including an original teller counter, sample checks, passbooks,
ledgers, etc.), and visitors could listen to an audio version of one
of Desjardins' speeches.
While
I learned a great deal about the history of the Quebec credit union
movement and Desjardins in particular, the biggest revelation to me
from my journey was the weight given to the man and movement in the
popular understanding of the province's history. In the United
States, credit union history can hardly command a footnote in obscure
academic journals, while, in Quebec, the movement's founder can be
found painted larger than life in public murals and is well featured
in the province's most prestigious history museum. Why the
difference?
While
there is much in-depth comparative work to be done, I think the
relative historical prominence of the two societies' cooperative
banking movements can be attributed to two major factors. First, the
caisse populaire movement
in Quebec was given nationalist meaning by many Francophone people
itching under the domination of Anglophones. As the first Canadian
banks were owned by the English elite and tended to put those
interests above the interests of more working-class Francophone
Quebecers, the caisses populaires
were not simply ways for working class people to obtain credit, but
they were also understood to be building a francophone financial
system that could challenge the economic hegemony of Anglophone
elites. Add to that the early movement's deep ties to the Catholic
Church, which was a core Francophone institution (Anglo elites tended
to be Protestant), and it is easy to see how credit unions in Quebec
have gained historical importance due to their connection to one of
the province's most long-running and central social tensions.
Second,
it seems that the Quebec movement has promoted its historical
importance in a much more intentional and strategic way than has the
American Credit Union movement. Where the American movement's history museum was founded only recently, and is so woefully underfunded that
its director spends much of her time doing financial, rather than
historical, education, the Mouvement Desjardins
has been solidly and consistently promoting its history for decades.
Not only is their museum well funded enough to have full-time docents
available to greet all comers, but they also employ two full-time
historians whose research on Desjardins and the movement have yielded
numerous resources both scholarly and popular (including comics books
on Desjardins in both French and English). Without similar
institutional support for their history, American public
understanding of the deeply meaningful contributions credit unions
have made to our society is virtually non-existent, and our
movement's public standing is thereby substantially lessened.
In
sum, I highly recommend a visit to the Maison Alphonse
Desjardins, should you ever get
the chance. Not only does it leave its visitors with a deeply
enriched understanding of the origins of the North American credit
union movement, but it also demonstrates the opportunities that can
be cultivated when a movement decides to take the task of stewarding
its legacy seriously.
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The view from Levis ain't bad, either... All photos courtesy of Allison Curran |