Sharan Kaur served as the deputy chief of staff for former Liberal finance minister Bill Morneau and is currently a principal at Navigator. Canadian politics has never been for the faint of heart. Every party has its fractures, leadership wars, and moments of chaos. But what’s happening inside the Conservative Party under Pierre Poilievre isn’t normal turbulence. It’s institutional decay disguised as discipline. Let’s be clear: what’s unfolding inside the halls of Ottawa isn’t strategy — it’s rot. When an MP from Atlantic Canada, Chris d’Entremont, the Member of Parliament for Acadie–Annapolis, crosses the floor to join the Liberals, that’s not routine politics. That’s a flashing red light. And when another MP, Matt Jeneroux, rumoured to be mulling a similar move, decides to walk away entirely, that’s not coincidence. That’s combustion. The pressure inside Poilievre’s caucus has reached a breaking point. This isn’t how you build a credible opposition. It’s how you run a cult. Floor-crossing has always existed in politics. People evolve, ridings shift, principles collide with party lines. But there’s a chasm between individual choice and a culture built on coercion, fear, and threats. The bullying tactics aren’t new for Poilievre or his inner circle. Discontent has simmered for years. On the campaign trail, Conservatives themselves whispered about intimidation, blacklisting, and a leadership office obsessed with control. I know this because my professional life has crossed partisan lines — and despite spending years in Liberal politics, friendships and trust don’t stop at party colours. Toxicity isn’t unique to Poilievre, but when a leader relies on the likes of Andrew Scheer as an enforcer, the writings on the wall. The paranoia is palpable: whispers about who might jump, who’s on the watch list, who’s next to be “handled.” Some threats are blunt — “we have oppo on you” — others are subtler, the kind of late-night phone calls that remind MPs of every vulnerable moment from their past. This isn’t House of Cards. It’s amateur hour with intimidation tactics. And yes, I’ve lived through the heavy-handed days in the Liberal government — the PMO micromanaging ministers, silencing dissent. It was maddening. But what’s happening in the Conservative ranks right now is worse. This isn’t discipline. It’s internal terror. Take d’Entremont’s exit. He said that under Poilievre, he “didn’t find I was represented.” His words were calm. The reaction from Conservatives was not. Former colleagues lashed out, calling him a coward and a traitor. The optics were brutal: a respected Atlantic moderate walking into a cheering Liberal caucus while his old team imploded in fury. If one of your last Red Tory moderates in Atlantic Canada decides he can’t take it anymore; you don’t have a loyalty problem — you have a leadership crisis. When operatives are calling MPs to warn “we’ll make your life hell” if they even think about leaving, that’s not a party holding firm. That’s a party in free fall. Poilievre’s brand has always been bold, populist, unapologetic. Fine. You can win elections that way. But you can’t govern that way. There’s a line between being disruptive and being destructive — and his operation crossed it a long time ago. The Conservatives have become a movement driven by paranoia instead of purpose. They don’t build trust; they weaponize fear. They don’t inspire loyalty; they enforce silence. Governance isn’t about brawn — it’s about credibility. People support leaders they believe can bring others together to solve problems, not those who lead by threat and intimidation. When MPs are more afraid of their own party than the opposition, you’re already losing the plot. Yes, MPs switch sides. History is full of them. But those were personal choices — not hostage negotiations. In healthy parties, loyalty is earned through vision and respect, not enforced through fear of exposure. So here’s the warning to Canadians watching this slow-motion collapse: don’t mistake public unity for private stability. Behind the photo ops and talking points is a party cracking under the weight of its own toxicity. If Pierre Poilievre wants to lead — truly lead — he should recognise that running a caucus like a gang doesn’t make him strong. It makes him small. You don’t build a government by crushing dissent. You build it by commanding respect. Because when the fear stops working, so does the machine. And what’s left isn’t a movement — it’s ashes. More from Sharan Kaur:
