MOST people would agree that the crucifix that hangs prominently in Quebec’s provincial legislature is a Roman Catholic symbol. As such it should be banned under proposals Quebec’s government released on September 10th aimed at enshrining secularism in provincial law. But in the French-speaking province of 8.1m, where the majority still identify themselves as Catholics even if they no longer bother with church, removing the crucifix would be a step too far. So in its proposed ban on the display of “conspicuous” religious symbols in public buildings or by public employees, the ruling Parti Québécois made an exception for “items of cultural heritage”. Not surprisingly, these turn out to be Catholic.

As in France, which banned headscarves in classrooms in 2004 and veils in public places in 2010, the real target of the proposals is the tiny minority of non-Catholic Quebeckers who wear headscarves or turbans. As in France it has fuelled a divisive debate, in this case pitting Montreal, with most of Quebec’s 1m immigrants, against the rest of Quebec; Catholics against non-Catholics; and Quebec against the rest of Canada. Naheed Nenshi, the Muslim mayor of Calgary, called the charter “social suicide” and invited unhappy Quebeckers to move to Alberta.

Still, there is political method in the seeming madness of the minority PQ government, led by Pauline Marois. The public does not support independence from Canada, the cause for which her party was founded. But French-speakers are permanently anxious about protecting their language and culture. Her attempt to impose stricter language rules was blocked by opposition parties. But opinion polls suggest that a “secularism” which makes concessions to Catholicism commands the support of a majority.

This is not the first time that religious issues have been a political football in Canada’s second-most-populous province. In 2007 the minority Liberal government of Jean Charest almost fell during a divisive debate about such issues. One involved a request by orthodox Jews that a Montreal YMCA frost its windows so children attending a nearby synagogue would not see people exercising in skimpy clothing. Others concerned decisions by two maple-syrup shacks (ie, restaurants) to accommodate Muslim customers by taking pork off the menu, and to allow a dance hall to be used temporarily as a mosque.

Mr Charest’s solution was to appoint a commission headed by two academics, Gérard Bouchard and Charles Taylor. They found that Quebec’s identity was not under threat. But they also suggested that the government spell out secular values, prohibit public servants with a coercive role, such as police or judges, from wearing religious symbols, and remove the crucifix from the legislative chamber, placing it instead in a museum in the National Assembly. The PQ proposal goes further by banning all public servants from wearing religious symbols. When details leaked last month Mr Taylor called them “Putinesque” and compared them to the crackdown on homosexuals in Russia.

Others say the charter is an awkward solution to a minor problem. For example, it is not clear whether long beards would be classed as a religious symbol, or whether Jews could claim that skullcaps are a symbol of cultural heritage. And as France knows, enforcing a ban on headscarves in classrooms can be difficult. Even Bernard Drainville, the PQ minister responsible for the charter, appeared flummoxed when asked whether the bible would still to be used to swear public oaths.

Philippe Couillard, whose opposition Liberals are riding high in the opinion polls, says the proposal puts fundamental freedoms at risk and will divide rather than unite Quebeckers. François Legault, leader of the third-party Coalition for the Future of Quebec, calls them “too radical”. Both accuse the government of creating a false crisis to avoid talking about the sluggish Quebec economy.

But Ms Marois has not spent more than three decades fighting in the PQ trenches without learning the power of identity politics. With her “secular” charter she may have found a winning issue. Some in Quebec believe that the legislative debate on the proposed ban will be followed by a snap election.