Before Mr. Bertrand's intervention, the pack was working up a nice panicky lather. To speak of the Constitution at such a time, said Prof. Kenneth McRoberts, was to insist on "narrow legalisms." Whatever the law may say, it is "irrelevant," former Speaker John Bosley advised. "Separation is a totally political question." Former B.C. Liberal leader Gordon Gibson mocked "those who seriously think the words of the Constitution protect us from the consequences of a Yes vote." Such "dangerous nonsense," he warned, would prove "a gold mine for the separatists," prompting Quebeckers to vote Yes out of spite. (Maybe that was what Mr. Bertrand was up to.)

And then the clincher: What are you going to do, send in the army? This devastating riposte, a masterful blend of alarmism and defeatism, appeared in nearly every piece. "Supposing secession to be illegal," intoned Jeffrey Simpson, "how is the law to be enforced against it?" The proposition "necessarily raises the question of force," said Prof. McRoberts. "Should Quebec be turned into some kind of Chechnya?" Lysiane Gagnon asked sweetly. "Let's have the Mounties throw the Parizeau government in jail," guffawed the Montreal Gazette's Don McPherson.

Oh for goodness sake. Is this the depth of analysis we can expect in coming months? If so, we really are in trouble.

Believe it or not, there are a great many ways of resisting secession short of parachuting the Airborne into the National Assembly. They involve, rather, setting obstacles in its path, and one of these is the law. It's not that we would arrest the Premier of Quebec. It is simply a gate in the road, one that cannot be opened without the rest of Canada's co-operation. And so far as Quebeckers are disinclined to leap this hurdle on their own, the question of enforcement is irrelevant.

It is not a narrow legalism to ask whether Quebeckers wish to live in a law- based state. Apart from its other perils, a unilateral declaration of independence would plunge Quebec into what the scholars call "legal discontinuity," which is a gentler way of saying anarchy. Immediately after the legislation giving it effect was proclaimed from the balcony of the presidential palace - it could hardly receive royal assent - it would be challenged in the courts of Canada and Quebec: not only by the government of Canada, but by Quebeckers.

Perhaps the PQ could ignore the courts, or fire all the judges. But meanwhile, the Crees in Northern Quebec would have declared independence, based on their own referendum, as indeed might Quebeckers in other regions who wished to remain part of Canada. The government of Quebec, having just abolished the rule of law, would be ill-placed to invoke the law against them. (What are they going to do, send in the SQ?) Anyone who thinks Quebeckers are prepared to entertain this sort of nightmare is, in Mr. Gibson's words, "in need of a good reality therapist." Not even the PQ is that far gone. So they would prefer separation to be legal, and if they want it to be legal, it has to be negotiated. Except it can't be negotiated, as Patrick Monahan's carefully argued paper for the C. D. Howe Institute makes painfully clear: There are too many issues, too many obstacles, and too many chances for the whole thing to break down. And that's assuming the rest of Canada was even bargaining in good faith, as opposed to fudging, stalling and generally buying time until the next referendum or election in Quebec could be organized. There is, in short, every possibility of finessing a Yes vote, so long as people in positions of authority keep their heads.

Those timorous souls who ask how Canada could enforce the law to prevent Quebec from leaving have it backwards. In defence of Canada, we have no need of an army; we have General Inertia. The federation is the status quo. The ones who have to shift the status quo - to expel the institutions of federal authority from Quebec soil - are those who would break up the federation. If any desperate measures are contemplated, it will not be on Canada's part.