Arlynn and Lilian Kurtz, who used to farm near Stockholm, Sask., happily retired from the industry a few years ago. But when they look back at their career, they say they would never have made it to retirement if it hadn’t been for the agricultural protests that took place in Regina and Ottawa two decades ago.
Twenty years later, protesters and organizers are reflecting back on what drove them to activism, how the community and politicians responded, and how the gains they made have rippled through the industry since then.
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At the turn of the millennium, Saskatchewan farmers were facing an uphill battle. American and European agricultural subsidies were putting Canadian farmers at a comparative disadvantage, grain and oilseed prices were trending down worldwide, and railway and machinery costs were up. That, coupled with a few years of bad weather, was pushing the industry to a crisis point.
“Most of us couldn’t afford to pay the bills that way,” said Lloyd Pletz, who used to farm near Fort Qu’Appelle and was one of the protest organizers. “And since we owned land or some equipment or some livestock, we couldn’t apply for social assistance. So we were pretty well out of luck.”
In 1998, the federal government launched the $900 million Agriculture Income Assistance program, which the provinces then joined with a $600 million contribution. This was supposed to help stave off disaster — but it wasn’t going to be enough. In 1999, Saskatchewan’s net farm income came to less than $100 million in total, or an average of $1,745 per farm.
In February 2000, dozens of Saskatchewan farmers held a sit-in at the legislature in Regina to demand a bailout from the provincial government. While there were some contentious moments — extra security staff were called in, and then-Premier Roy Romanow was insulted and called a coward as he walked past the protestors — Arlynn Kurtz said the most striking detail he remembers is how the city seemed to rally around the farmers’ cause.
“On our second day at the legislative building, we had doughnuts and muffins and pizza delivered from businesses all over Regina,” he recalled. “There was a lot of support from the public, and we had media attention on the national news.”
Lilian, however, was not partaking in any of the delivered food — to drive home the seriousness of the farmers’ cause, she was on a hunger strike.
Thinking back, she remembers the intensity of the nine-day sit-in — packed into the building, shoulder to shoulder with nearly 100 of her fellow farmers, asking anyone who might have the power to help the agricultural industry to meet the needs of the moment.
The protesters left when police cleared them out of the building’s cafeteria, saying they had received a message about a threat to the protesters’ safety.
Lilian doesn’t consider herself an activist, but believes their tactics worked. Finally, people were listening.
“I feel bad that we had to do all that,” she said. “It would have been better if there had been somebody else looking after our interest, but I think we were an impetus to get the people in the government on the side of agriculture. We reminded them we are an important part of the economy that needed to be supported.”
That year, the federal budget included $1.7 billion for “economic adjustments, primarily further farm assistance.” And even more provincial aid was announced early the next month.
Pletz, who along with the Kurtzes had also travelled to Ottawa multiple times to lobby in advance of the federal budget, says these sustained protests reminded Canadian politicians that the agricultural industry was, and is, a force to be reckoned with.
“I think we woke up the politicians,” he said. “They knew that we Canadian farmers are not going to take all this lying down anymore. We were tired of getting picked on and bankrupted on purpose.”
And long after the sit-in was done and the funding had been secured, Pletz said the political work continued — people who had met and become friends through the protests stayed in touch, and many wound up starting advocacy organizations to keep farmers’ interests high on government agendas.
“We helped get grassroots organizations started up from coast to coast,” he recalled.
As for the Kurtzes, they credit the protests and the additional government funding for their ability to successfully continue in the industry. It wasn’t all easy from then on out, Lilian said, but it had become possible to carry on.
“Twenty years ago, while we were still young, we went through some bad years weather-wise — one year, there was a horrible frost that wiped out everybody’s crops,” she said. “But because there were better support programs after 2000, most of us survived, and personally we were able to happily retire.”
