The Current, Chad Dashly

New political parties rarely fail because of ideology alone. More often, they collapse under the weight of ego, unclear authority, and internal power struggles or inability to raise donations. The brief and chaotic rise of OneBC is a textbook example of how not to launch a political movement and how quickly a lack of discipline can undo even the most ambitious project.

OneBC emerged amid deep fractures on the political right in British Columbia. With voters frustrated by establishment parties and conservative forces splintering, the space for a new alternative appeared ripe. At the centre of that effort was Dallas Brodie, who stepped into the role of leader and became the public face of a party still finding its footing.

But almost from the outset, OneBC suffered from a problem that has plagued countless insurgent movements: power existed without structure.

Behind the scenes Othman Mekhloufi, a political activist and organizer within conservative grassroots circles, became a growing presence. Mekhloufi was not an elected official, not a candidate, and not a formally accountable party executive. Yet he was widely perceived, internally and externally, as exercising influence over communications, strategy, and internal direction.

That influence quickly became a flashpoint.

According to multiple accounts from within OneBC’s orbit, Mekhloufi’s role was never clearly defined. What began as activist energy and organizational support blurred into something far more consequential. Decisions appeared to be shaped by informal authority rather than transparent process. Messaging grew erratic. Internal disputes spilled into public view. For a party desperately trying to establish legitimacy, this was a serious liability.

Brodie’s decision to remove Mekhloufi from any role associated with OneBC was less about a single incident and more about an attempt to reassert leadership control. The concern was not merely tone or temperament, but the existence of what some insiders described as a parallel centre of power, influence without responsibility.

From a leadership perspective, the move made sense. New parties survive only if they project discipline, coherence, and credibility. Allowing unelected activists to appear as de facto decision-makers is an invitation to chaos. Brodie’s action was intended to draw a firm line: authority flows from leadership, not from loudness or proximity.

But the damage had already been done.

The firing did not stabilize OneBC. Instead, it exposed just how fragile the party’s internal foundation really was. Trust had eroded. Factions had hardened. What should have been a private organizational correction became a public rupture. The party’s internal conflicts intensified rather than subsided.

Not long after, Brodie herself was removed as leader by OneBC’s board — a stunning reversal that underscored the central irony of the situation. In attempting to impose order, she revealed how little structural authority actually existed to begin with.

This is where OneBC’s story shifts from internal squabble to political cautionary tale.

Parties do not fail simply because of controversial personalities. They fail when roles are undefined, governance is weak, and leadership authority is ambiguous. In OneBC’s case, the party never clearly established who had decision-making power, how strategy was set, or how internal disagreements would be resolved. That vacuum was inevitably filled by personality, influence, and conflict.

Figures like Othman Mekhloufi become symbols in such environments, not because they are uniquely powerful, but because weak institutions allow informal power to flourish. When accountability mechanisms are absent, perception becomes reality, and internal resentment grows.

This is why commentators like Jas Johal have seized on Mekhloufi’s name. Not because he is a major political figure, but because his involvement represents something larger: a party overtaken by internal dysfunction before it could even define its purpose.

The OneBC saga should serve as a warning to any movement attempting to capitalize on voter frustration. Passion and disruption are not substitutes for governance. Activism does not replace structure. And leadership without clear authority is leadership in name only.

British Columbia’s political landscape may still be hungry for alternatives, but OneBC’s implosion shows that credibility is built long before the first press release. Without disciplined organization, even the most opportune political moment can be squandered.

In the end, OneBC didn’t fall because of its ideas. It fell because it never decided clearly and collectively, who was actually in charge and what they stop for.

Editor Notes: Who Dallas Brodie and Jas Johal:

• Dallas Brodie: Member of the Legislative Assembly (MLA) in British Columbia, representing Vancouver-Quilchena.  
• Brodie was originally elected as a BC Conservative MLA in the 2024 provincial election.  
• In 2025, she and another MLA Tara Armstrong left the Conservatives to form a new political party called OneBC (which is a far right-wing/populist party).  
• She had been serving as interim leader of OneBC, but on or around Dec. 13-14, 2025, she was removed as leader by the party’s board amid internal conflict.  

Why Jas Johal might be mentioning her: Johal tweets a lot about British Columbia provincial politics, especially controversies involving small or new parties like OneBC and its leaders, including Brodie’s leadership struggles and the party’s policies.