In 1946, Montreal restaurateur Frank Roncarelli, an Italian immigrant from Bologna, did the unimaginable – he sued the most powerful man in Québec, populist Premier Maurice Duplessis. Roncarelli v. Duplessis wound its way through the Canadian legal system until it reached the Supreme Court of Canada in 1959. The court’s decision would reshape Canadian constitutional law by setting a precedent which established the limits of government power. Equally significant, the case would come to be regarded as one more act of defiance in the turbulent socio-political setting that was mid-20th century Québec.
A court ruling is, at its core, the interpretation and application of the law by judges who are meant to be impartial and detached from individual narratives. However, Roncarelli’s personal story provides a valuable perspective to understanding the case’s importance in a broader context. It also reveals the human cost of the fight for justice. Roncarelli’s actions, the consequences he faced, and the lasting impact of his case are all worth remembering, as populist governments today envisage or enact laws to limit freedoms.
Frank Roncarelli was born in Bologna, Italy, in 1904. Shortly after he was born, he and his family immigrated to Canada. He was eight years old when his father opened Roncarelli’s, a very successful Italian restaurant on vibrant Crescent Street in downtown Montreal. Quaff Cafe, the restaurant’s cocktail lounge in the basement, was also a popular hangout.
Frank Roncarelli with son, Ed, and first wife Mimi. (Courtesy of Sarah Roncarelli)
Roncarelli was “a vivacious, interested man,” his granddaughter Sarah remembers. He was involved in many activities as a young man, playing football and hockey for McGill University. He also kept strong links with Italy, even returning to live in Milan for ten years, working as an engineer. He was a prominent figure in the Italian hockey scene, helping to develop the sport in his birth country. During this time, he would marry his wife, Mimi, and raise two sons, Ettore, “Ed” and Roberto “Robi.” He would also have his first experience with authoritarian power.
Roncarelli was never afraid to speak his mind. In a 1937 news clipping about his involvement in Italian hockey, he calls Benito Mussolini “a dictator and a warlord.” When he was introduced to Mimi’s social circle – which included Mussolini’s daughter, Edda – he made no effort to hide his disdain for her father. Sarah relates an often-recounted Roncarelli family anecdote: once when Edda asked Roncarelli to light her cigarette he refused – a small gesture, but one that demonstrated his unwillingness to yield to members of Mussolini’s circle. The oppression of Mussolini’s fascist regime would eventually lead Roncarelli to leave his birth country again. “He couldn’t abide that, so he left,” Sarah recounts. No longer comfortable with life in Italy, Frank and his family moved back to Canada, leaving Italy for good.
In Montreal, Roncarelli took over the family business. Harnessing the popularity of the restaurant, he and Mimi enjoyed commercial and personal success, owning several properties along Sherbrooke Street and residing on affluent Redpath Street. Frank could be seen skiing along Montreal’s avenues in the wintertime. He traveled far and wide in North America, taking road trips across the United States with his two sons, or traveling to Florida by cruise ship. From all appearances, the Roncarellis were living a happy and fulfilling life in their adopted country.
Mimi Roncarelli poses in front of Roncarelli’s Restaurant and Quaff Cafe in Montreal. (Courtesy of Sarah Roncarelli)
Quebec in the 1940s
The Province of Quebec during the 1940s was firmly in the grip of the Catholic Church. With Maurice Duplessis as provincial premier, church and state collaborated to dominate the fundamental aspects of Quebeckers’ lives, namely, the education system, hospitals, and social services. Duplessis’ reign was marked by conservative ideals; attachment to religion, specifically Catholicism, and the stifling of all dissension. Duplessis especially despised communists and the labour movement, and he had no sympathy for religious minorities.
But the era was not without strong opposition from other quarters. Pockets of resistance manifested themselves from time to time. The labour movement in particular was very active, culminating in the violent Asbestos strike of 1949. Most notably, prominent Quebecois artists and intellectuals like Paul Emile Borduas, Jean Paul Riopelle, and Françoise Sullivan wrote a manifesto titled Refus Globale in 1948 to denounce Quebec’s oppressive social climate. Another very active group during this time were the Jehovah’s Witnesses, a small religious faction that aggressively criticized the Catholic Church by circulating pamphlets and calling out what they saw as corruption and authoritarianism. This provoked fierce backlash by the Duplessis government which, in turn, labelled the Jehovah’s Witnesses as seditious. Under a new law, hundreds of Jehovah’s Witnesses were arrested and fined forty dollars (about $750 today) or sentenced to sixty days in jail for ostensibly illegally distributing religious pamphlets. The aim was clear: suppress the movement through incarceration and intimidation.
Roncarelli’s Conversion to the Jehovah’s Witnesses
Frank Roncarelli was an intellectually curious man. “He had a very active mind,” says Sarah. Like most Italians, Roncarelli grew up Roman Catholic. At some point in his life he became disillusioned with the Catholic Church. “Something about it just didn’t make sense to him,” Sarah explains. She posits that witnessing Mussolini working with the Catholic Church to maintain his power may have played a role in her grandfather’s decision to abandon his Catholic roots. Roncarelli, disappointed with systems of governance and their leaders, sought alternative answers.
Roncarelli’s conversion was tough on his sons. In September of 1945, the three Roncarelli men were chased out of the town of Chateauguay by a mob intent on harming them. The young boys did not share their father’s enthusiasm for the religion’s practices. “As part of the Jehovah’s religion, they had to go door to door [to recruit converts]. It was embarrassing,” Sarah relates.
What drew him to the Jehovah’s Witnesses remains unclear. Why a man “of reason and logic,” as Sarah describes him, would respond positively to a relatively fringe religious group is still a mystery. What is known, however, is that his fervent support for the Jehovah’s Witnesses made him famous. Frank used his considerable personal wealth to post bail for virtually all the hundreds of Jehovahs who were arrested.
Roncarelli v. Duplessis
Roncarelli’s actions drew the ire of Maurice Duplessis. To punish Roncarelli, the premier ordered the revocation of Quaff Cafe’s liquor license, effectively destroying his restaurant business. FR Scott, the celebrated McGill professor, civil rights lawyer and intellectual, was sympathetic to Frank’s cause and took on his case out of principle. Interestingly, Roncarelli sued Duplessis for damages personally, not as Quebec premier. In a CBC television interview about his legal battle, recorded in 1965, Roncarelli asserted that he was the first citizen to sue a premier. Then he pointedly remarked: “A dictator, I prefer.”
After an initial victory in the lower courts that awarded him $8000 in damages, the decision was overturned on appeal. Not one to back down, Roncarelli took the case to the Supreme Court of Canada. He argued that Duplessis abused his power to personally destroy his business and, as a result, Duplessis was at fault and he ought to pay for it. In 1959, the highest court in the land rendered its landmark decision. It ruled that the premier had overstepped the authority of his office and was not acting in the interest of the people when he ordered the revocation of Roncarelli’s liquor license. In the words of Justice Ivan Rand:
Action dictated by and according to the arbitrary likes, dislikes and irrelevant purposes of public officers acting beyond their duty would signalize the beginning of disintegration of the rule of law as a fundamental postulate of our constitutional structure.
Roncarelli was awarded $33,123 in damages (equivalent to about $357,902 today) – far less than what he had lost. The real victory was a moral one, and the important precedent it set: no politician, no matter how powerful, was above the law.
Frank Roncarelli with his two sons: Ettore (Ed), left, and Roberto (Robi), right. (Courtesy of Sarah Rocarelli)
The Aftermath
Frank Roncarelli never recovered financially from the case. Roncarelli’s and Quaff Café closed not long after the liquor license was revoked, as the number of clients tumbled, never to reopen. The money awarded by the court did little to reverse the financial and mental toll the case had taken on Roncarelli and his family. “He gave up all claims to material comfort for the sake of a principle,” Sarah recounts. “In the end, he accomplished his goal, but the cost was immense.”
The legal battle not only cost Frank Roncarelli his business, but it also deeply affected his family. Ed and Robi were teenagers when the case began and adults by the time the Supreme Court rendered its judgement. They struggled with the fallout, as the case consumed much of the family’s fortune and marked the end of the comfortable life they had known. The conflict made it difficult for them to balance their pride for their father’s principled stand with the personal hardships it brought. “I heard about the cost. And that’s hard to reconcile,” Sarah said, reflecting on her father and uncle. “They suffered the heartbreak of having a lot, including social standing in Montreal, which was huge for Italian immigrants. And then it was all taken away. Tough for a couple of teenage boys.” The two brothers would eventually leave Quebec, building successful careers in Toronto.
The Supreme Court decision was delivered in January 1959. By this time, Maurice Duplessis was in his late sixties and ailing. He would die in office in September of that year after a series of strokes, but not before learning that Roncarelli v. Duplessis was decided against him.
For his part, Frank Roncarelli would miss the turning point in Quebec history that his legal victory helped usher in. The death of Duplessis and the beginning of the 1960s marked the start of the Quiet Revolution. Quebec started to modernize, the Church’s influence weakened, and secular state control over education and social services expanded. Frank, however, no longer lived in Montreal. He left Canada for the United States to start a new life, first in New York and then in Connecticut. He found work once more as an engineer, his profession by training. He also separated from Mimi and married a fellow Jehovah’s Witness. “He and his second wife ended up living in Connecticut, not with a lot of money,” explains Sarah. “Really, just living a fairly simple life.”
When Sarah met her grandfather for the first time, the case had long been decided. “He always seemed a bit spent,” she recalls. “He was no longer the proud, vital man in charge of his own destiny. The case broke him.” Frank’s experience with the legal system serves as a reminder that justice delayed is often justice denied.
Quebec premier Maurice Duplessis. (La Presse Archives)
When the State Picks Sides
The Roncarelli case is, among other things, emblematic of the struggle between majorities and minorities, coming to a head when the state aligns itself with a particular group over another, rather than working for everyone. Fast forward 75 years or so to 2025 and the Quebec government is once again confronting a Supreme Court challenge involving religious rights. Bill 21, “An Act Respecting the Laicity of the State,” was introduced by Premier François Legault’s Coalition Avenir Quebec government and passed by the Quebec legislature in June 2019, ostensibly to position modern Québec society as fiercely secular. The law bans public employees like teachers and government workers from wearing religious symbols like hijabs, turbans and kippahs, essentially forcing them to choose between expressing their faith and keeping their jobs.
The law was immediately challenged, but the government’s controversial use of the “notwithstanding clause” of the Constitution Act pre-emptively overrides the courts. Several groups subsequently asked the Supreme Court to intervene, including the Fédération autonome de l’enseignement (FAE), a union representing 66 000 teachers, the Canadian Civil Liberties Association (CCLA), and the federal government, which filed a notice to join the case. As of this writing, the Supreme Court has agreed to hear the case.
Frank Roncarelli’s Legacy
History remembers Frank Roncarelli as a man who challenged those in power on principle, at the cost of financial stability and social standing. He may have been driven merely by a desire to prove a point – maybe it was his pride that kept him in a legal battle for thirteen years, maybe he was just unwaveringly stubborn. Either way, he showed he was willing to hold the most powerful man in the province accountable, and in doing so contributed to the protections of fundamental rights and freedoms in Canada. We can easily conclude what Frank Roncarelli, a man who fought against the targeting of religious groups, would think of Bill 21.
“He’d be tremendously proud,” says Sarah, when I asked her what her grandfather would have thought of the legacy of his case. “It’s a tremendous accomplishment, and I’m proud to be connected to a man who fought against what he saw as a terrible injustice.”
Frank Roncarelli passed away in Mystic, Connecticut, in 1981, from an aneurysm. Today, every Canadian law student knows his name. In textbooks he may be just a case citation – a landmark precedent, but the man behind the ruling was far more than that. He was complex, driven, and unwavering in his resistance to abuse of power, sticking by his principles, even at great personal cost.
Dario Cusmano is a law student completing his legal training at the Québec Bar. He holds a BA in Political Science from McGill, an LLL from the University of Ottawa, and a JD from the Université de Montréal. He lives in Montreal.
