When I finished I got a standing ovation from most in the room. You see, contrary to popular myth, people understand fairness. As my campaign manager used to say, there’s wisdom in the crowd, especially if the facts and the truth are presented. CBC and crew silently stole away. There was no blood this time.
Things were moving quickly in the department on the offshore file as we honed our skills on offshore matters and finalized our position on jurisdiction, introducing legislation, establishing a petroleum directorate, acquiring expertise, and, most importantly, establishing our own regulations. Likewise with the Upper and Lower Churchill, things were moving and various talks with the federal and Quebec governments occurred as well as the introduction of the Lower Churchill Development Corporation Act. Both these issues will be discussed in another section of this book.
During this time I was given the added responsibilities of the Department of Rural and Northern Development. This was an interesting and challenging task in that it provided for further extensive travels to rural Newfoundland (as if I needed further education in this regard), and more particularly Labrador, where my experience was limited. I therefore visited all the communities in Labrador and became more familiar with the Inuit and Innu peoples.
One of my more unpleasant experiences was to fire one of our workers in Davis Inlet. The province oversaw retail operations in the aboriginal communities. One summer morning I arrived by seaplane at Davis Inlet. It was around 10: 00 a.m. The government store was not far from the government wharf where we disembarked from the plane. However, the store was not open. It was a regular workday and there was no reason for the store to be closed. A number of native children were nearby on the road, so I asked them where the manager for the store lived. They took me up one of the roads and on to another and pointed at the house. I went up to the door and knocked, but there was no answer. I proceeded inside only to find manager and wife still in bed. When I finally awakened the manager and he arose from the bed, I informed him that he was fired. I had already had a number of complaints against the manager, and this dereliction of duty could not be tolerated. Apparently, there had been a celebration the day before and our good manager was a willing participant to the extent that he was unable to perform his work duties the next morning.
This department was an honest attempt by the government of the day to support and encourage small business enterprise, especially in the resource sector of logging, fishing, farming, and tourism and craft development. The department supported rural development associations throughout the province and their parent body, the Rural Development Council, whose job was to identify opportunities and encourage proper business practice and leadership.
As mentioned, the offshore file was moving fast and the Petroleum and Natural Gas Act of 1977, and the accompanying regulations under this act in 1978, established the reality that Newfoundland intended to assert its ownership of the exploration and development of oil and gas on the continental shelf and margin. This gave rise to all companies having to apply to the province, for the first time, for a permit to explore offshore. Of course, the federal government maintained that the offshore was in their jurisdiction, so the companies were faced with two sets of regulations. The development and implementation of these regulations meant many meetings with the oil companies and saw myself, Cabot Martin, and Steve Millan, in particular, spending many days and hours in hotels in Calgary talking with executives of the oil companies.
This was no fun. While the companies all complied in the end, there was a lot of “weeping and gnashing of teeth.” I remember one evening while in Calgary having to talk to an executive of Total Eastcan (they had federal permits off Labrador) on the phone from Paris. A heated discussion ensued in which the executive, in broken English, expressed anger and disgust with our regulations and our whole approach. I think at the end of the conversation I, too, was mad and told the executive that if he didn’t like it (he could lump it), then that was just too bad. I am not sure whether any government minister had ever spoken to him in such terms and with such emotion before, since this quickly ended the conversation. Along with the new provincial regulations, the department, with the blessing of the Cabinet, developed an expensive booklet called Heritage of the Sea—our case on offshore mineral resources, which was sent to every householder in the province.
I was now, of course, involved in the Resource Policy Committee of Cabinet and hence had the opportunity to see the developments occurring in the other resource departments in the same way as, earlier, I was involved in the Social Policy Committee of Cabinet when I was minister of Municipal Affairs. I became chairman of the committee and also deputy chair of the Treasury Board.
Given these roles and my previous Municipal Affairs and Housing portfolio, it was becoming obvious that the present configuration of the provincial economy was such that even with our major economic levers of fishery, forestry, and mining performing at capacity, it would not generate sufficient revenue to make a significant difference in the revenues to the province. And if this was all we had, then “have not” status with the federal government (being our chief income provider) would be a permanent condition.
At this point the fishery was still seen as having real potential for growth, and various numbers were used to indicate significant increased tonnage to the TAC, total allowable catch. New fish plants were on the drawing board for places like Triton (which was built), Jackson’s Arm, Lewisporte, and other places. While this optimism was encouraging at the time in that it would stabilize the rural population and help sustain the present demographic, many of the plants would be largely seasonal and the population highly dependent upon unemployment insurance. I am afraid there was a practice in some places where plants hired people on for a certain period to qualify for UIC (now called EI) and then would lay them off and hire another group, and the cycle proceeded. Certain fishing families would do this within the family unit; in the winter months, all the adult members of the family were receiving a sizable UIC cheque. The province largely ignored such practices, and therefore a real system developed whereby UIC was looked upon by many as an entitlement as opposed to insurance to be used to bridge a time between jobs. In the Economic Council of Canada Report of 1980, the following can be found in its Summary and Recommendations section, page 9:
Because the fishery is a common property resource, there was no limit to the number of people who could enter it before the recent freeze on new licenses. Through subsidies for boats and gear, people are granted assistance to go fishing. Once in the fishery, unemployment insurance guarantees some kind of income assistance during the off season, provided they earn a weekly minimum during the initial twenty-week qualifying period. If they also work in a fish plant, they can be guaranteed even longer off-season benefits. Once on the system, the eligibility requirement drops to ten weeks and the annual cycle is set up to be repeated indefinitely. There is, of course, no limit to the number of other members in the same family who can make use of the system.
It was becoming obvious, almost day by day, the huge potential that offshore oil and gas could offer if significant quantities were found, and an even bigger potential if the province would be able to reap significant revenue and economic spinoff from any such discovery.
It was also becoming obvious to many on the inside around 1978 that Frank Moores was tiring of the job and that the difficulties of managing a political party, caucus, and Cabinet, the minutia in which a leader was forced to be involved, were not areas that kept his attention. Furthermore, there were lingering issues dealing with the Public Works department that had led to a scandal involving a local electrical contractor, which necessitated an inquiry conducted by a retired Supreme Court of Newfoundland Judge Furlong. There was also considerable suspicion concerning a late-night fire at Elizabeth Towers involving some Cabinet ministers. There were clouds forming and there was a lot of internal discussion about leadership. I remember being in the premier’s office some months before his announced retire
ment, where he informed me that he intended to retire very soon (within months) and wondered if I was going to run. Well, Frank followed through on this and announced his retirement.
Of course, I had by then thought about the idea of challenging for the leadership, but I also realized that this would be a monumental challenge. However, I felt up to it. I decided to give it serious thought.
That next weekend I dropped in to see my parents. They lived in Gander then. My father was the administrator of Lakeside Homes. I had to drive through Gander to reach my constituency, so I was a frequent visitor. It was Friday evening. During a quick supper, I mentioned that I was considering running for the leadership now that the sitting premier had announced his intention to resign. My mother was a little shocked and urged caution, that perhaps being a minister was enough and that taking on such a big undertaking was just too much. Father said little, except for a few questions, which I dutifully answered. I indicated that I had not yet made up my mind—that I would check with my wife and friends and the district association— and would be coming back on Sunday evening, at which time, of course, I would drop in again. Sunday evening saw me back at my parents, for supper before the 200-mile drive to St. John’s that night. Mother had a great supper as usual and the three of us sat down to dine. Of course, there was only one question—Are you going to run? Mother posed it, at which time Father said to my mother and me: “Wait.” He got up from the table and went to the bedroom, hauled something from a side drawer, and came back to the table. He passed an envelope to me.
“Open it,” he said.
I opened it, and there was a cheque for $1,000.
“I wanted to be the first donor to your campaign,” Father exclaimed.
“Ewart,” said Mother, “how do you know he is going to run?”
“Allison, it was clear when he was here Friday . . . he has no choice anyway.”
Of course, others had encouraged me to consider this opportunity. My later campaign manager, Frank Ryan, who was honest and super able, visited my office and suggested I seriously examine this option. Additionally, I was further encouraged by a meeting I held in Gander of supporters led by Ron and Agnes Richard. These people knew me well and I could count on them to provide frank and direct advice.
CHAPTER 5: STEPPING FORWARD
“Politics is the art of the possible.”
— Otto Von Bismarck
Statement by the Honourable Brian Peckford
Minister of Mines and Energy
January 31, 1979
A New Generation of Leadership
I have decided to run for the leadership of the Newfoundland and Labrador Progressive Conservative Party at its convention to be held on March 16 and 17. This was not an easy decision. I have thought long and hard about it. I have consulted with my wife and family, friends, my district association, and supporters from around the province. There are many reasons for my decision. I shall attempt to highlight some of them:
Since an early age, I have been interested in public life. The same drive and ambition that brought me into politics eleven years ago still possesses me today.
As a people or society we have in this century “sold out” to those who would develop our resources for themselves and others without providing a fair return to the owners of the resources—the people of Newfoundland and Labrador. We are on the threshold of having perhaps our last chance to “make it” or “break it.” I think I can help us make it.
Since being involved in government I have seen injustice that I would like to set right: social, economic, and political injustice.
Reform must be the order of the day if we are to succeed; that is, a new politics based on ability and integrity. It is a strong conviction I have held for a long time.
People whose opinions I respect have confidence and faith that I can provide the leadership that’s needed. Both my district association and a large group of people from around the province who met in Gander on Monday night endorse this view.
Perhaps the all-pervasive, underlying reason has to do with two concepts: leadership and the province’s future. The two are intertwined.
Our resources—the fishery, energy and minerals, forestry, agriculture, tourism—and our people all have a great capacity for expansion, to improve the living standard of all our people. If and only if we in government representing the people use the right methods, pursue the right policies, and have clearly developed aims and objectives established after adequate public debate. It is easy to answer the question “What should we do?” It is much more difficult to answer the question “Why should we do it?” We must answer the question of why before we can be sure that the answer to the question of what is the right one. Sound, realistic, long-term resource development goals are the only sure way to meet the many social needs and have a healthy society. It will take strong resolve and determination—that is, leadership—to look beyond the project-oriented approach to government to one that involves the long-term good of our people, to be creative yet responsible. It is a challenge that must be met now. I am excited by such a challenge and wish to embrace it with all vigour.
The March 16–17 convention is perhaps the most important one ever held by the PC Party in its history because not only is the party choosing a leader, but at one and the same time a premier is being selected. I consider it absolutely vital, therefore, that the delegates know where I stand and what I will try to do if elected. Of course, it will not be possible to give in-depth policy statements, but I will issue specific statements which will provide clear direction on my thinking. The first statement will deal with political reform. Statements will follow over the next weeks dealing with economic development, social development, and cultural development.
My wife and I, beginning today, will visit every district in the province to meet with district associations and explain and elaborate on ideas contained in this announcement.
I challenge all those interested in better government not more government—in a new generation of leadership—to get involved to ensure a bright future for our people.
THIS WAS AN EXHILARATING time. New people were coming forward. Frank Ryan, my campaign manager, was putting together a solid team at our new campaign headquarters and, hence, I could go on the road to meet the executives of the district associations around the province. These executives were already voting delegates, so meeting and trying to get their support was crucial, for their own votes as well as their ability, given their stature, of influencing the other delegates to be elected from the riding. Three incidents stand out as I write.
The Port au Port District Association had a public meeting to which they invited all the candidates for the leadership to address the gathering and give the people of that region a chance to assess each candidate. Of course, all the main candidates attended. Given that there was no hotel on the Port au Port Peninsula, all the candidates stayed at a well-known hotel in nearby Stephenville. The night went well, with a full house at the meeting. After the formal part of the meeting a dance followed, at which time the candidates were able to mingle and meet “the people.” This proved to be a late night; however, I think I was one of the first candidates to leave, when I was sure I had done all I could that night to attract support and that wine and song was to be the order for the rest of the night. I also had an ulterior motive.
I was up early the next morning and off to the peninsula to meet the executive members of that association, and I did not have a lot of time. I had found out from the locals the previous evening where the executive members lived. My first stop on the peninsula was a small house right on a curve of the road. This was the Campbells’ residence; Mr. Campbell was an executive member of the association. It was all of 8: 00 a.m. when I tapped on the door. No answer. I tapped again, and then a third time. Suddenly, the door opened, and standing in her nightgown was Mrs. Campbell.
“Oh!” I blurted out. “Sorry to get you up so early. My name is Brian Peckford and I am running for the PC leadership
.”
“Yes, yes,” Mrs. Campbell said. “Well, we are just getting up, but do come in.”
The wood stove had been lit and a good heat was circulating around the kitchen. A door off the kitchen opened and Mr. Campbell appeared.
“Well, well, Mr. Peckford, you are an early bird,” he said.
“I am,” I replied, “but if I don’t start early I will never get to all the districts, and I must do that if I want to be elected.”
And so the missus got us some breakfast and we had a grand chat about the upcoming convention and politics in general.
The Campbells became very strong supporters at the convention and campaigned vigorously on the floor of the convention hall. They remained strong supporters.
By late morning I had met the four executive members for the Port au Port district and then headed back to the hotel for an early lunch. None of the other candidates had been out that morning; all of them were having a late breakfast or early lunch. I did not disclose to them my earlier campaigning. I credit this hard work as one of the major contributing factors to my success in the upcoming convention and in other subsequent electoral successes.
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