Read Some Day the Sun Will Shine and Have Not Will Be No More Online
Authors: Brian Peckford
Frank Moores, Premier of the Province of Newfoundland and
Labrador 1972–1979. I first met Frank Moores in the provincial election
campaign of 1972. What was most striking as this point was his passion for
organization of the PC Party of Newfoundland and his desire to change the
way politics was conducted in the province.
I served as executive assistant and parliamentary assistant to Premier
Moores from 1972 to 1974. I served in Mr. Moores’s Cabinet
from 1974 to 1979 in the portfolios of
Municipal Affairs and
Housing, Mines and Energy, and Rural and Northern Development.
Mr. Moores delegated responsibility. This was a major sea change in the
conduct of government, contrasting sharply with previous administrations in
the province. While much attention over the years has been paid to his time
in Ottawa as a consultant, little attention has been paid to the fundamental
changes that were accomplished under his administrations.
Simply put, it was under Frank Moores’s leadership that governance in the
provincial government entered the twentieth century. The Public Tender Act
brought accountability and transparency to the conduct of business between
the private sector and government. Now companies and the public were assured
that if one bid on government work that price and ability would be the
criteria by which proposals were judged, and not political connections and
influence.
Secondly, the strengthening of the public service, the Public Service
Commission, and the organization of government were further important
reforms that occurred in Mr. Moores’s administrations.
Thirdly, and arguably Mr. Moores’s greatest legacy, was his approach to
resource development in the province. Rather than participating in the
depopulation of rural Newfoundland, he actively fostered a reinvigorated
rural Newfoundland through the Department of Rural Development, a bolstered
Department of Fisheries, active enlightened fishery policy (which often
contrasted with the federal approach and contributed to the province having
influence in overall fishery policy for the first time since Confederation),
and progressive forestry policy.
It was under Mr. Moores’s administrations and leadership that the genesis
for all future offshore oil and gas policy was formed and articulated. Mr.
Moores was one of the
first leaders who spoke for real
provincial influence and self-reliance and who fought the federal dependency
idea that had become prevalent in the first three decades of
Confederation.
A. Brian Peckford
Of course, from the time I was seven or eight years old I had heard the name
“Joey Smallwood.” He was a fixture in Newfoundland politics when I was growing
up. He was the premier. He was the boss man. I saw him in action as a teenager
at a rally in Lewisporte where he invoked admiringly the names of Sir William
Whiteway and Sir Richard Squires. Of course, it was much later that I discovered
the shady deals of Squires, but he was supposed to have put the hum on the
Humber and Smallwood liked that. The next time I saw him was when I was prancing
up Elizabeth Avenue with everyone else at the opening of the new campus of
Memorial University. An additional university experience was when he showed up
with full Cabinet on stage as he announced grants and salaries for students
attending university. I remember it as a sort of surreal experience. I had had
experience as a temporary social worker by this time and this lavish display of
new money seemed so out of place given the many social problems I had
experienced, not least of which was the meagre assistance that was provided to
widows, children, and disabled people. Later in the House of Assembly when
Smallwood sat in Opposition as head of a Liberal Reform Group, I remember
debating with him late one evening about the Upper Churchill contract. It was
clear that Smallwood was about the business of trying to justify, for the
record, the many dubious deals in which he was involved, and of course this
included the infamous contract. In true form, Smallwood went on for a long time.
Finally, at one point I rose to rebut him, lamenting the lack of an escalator
clause on the price being charged by Newfoundland in the contract, exclaiming
that the Greeks in classical times were aware of inflation.
Two
further encounters have already been related: his phone call to me during the
heady days of 1971–72 and his appearance at the formation of the Green Bay
Liberal Association.
One further encounter when I was premier is perhaps the most revealing.
The only living father of confederation, Joseph R. Smallwood, was still active
in the early eighties attempting to complete his
Book of Newfoundland
.
His company had a building off Portugal Cove Road in St. John’s and several
people were hired to assist Smallwood in completing the work. I wasn’t impressed
with the work to date on the project, but it was something Smallwood wanted to
do, so several “old friends” (no doubt who had benefited from Smallwood’s
largess in times past) had helped finance some of it and people were hired to
assist.
It was during this period that I received a frantic call (was there any other
kind?) from Joey imploring me to meet with him as soon as possible because he
had this fantastic opportunity for Newfoundland to describe to me—that it was
something beyond the wildest dreams of the most optimistic of our citizens.
Aware of Smallwood’s weakness for hyperbole, I took this sudden new opportunity
with the more than usual grain of salt and told him that over the next couple of
days I’m sure we could meet to more fully discuss this exciting development.
Well, this could not wait for a few days; it was doubtful, he insisted, if this
could wait a few hours. So not unlike others before me, I succumbed to this
typically brazen Smallwoodian approach. I invited him for dinner that evening at
the premier’s dining room at the Confederation Building. It was a night to
remember! How many people have spent twelve continuous hours with the man?
The province’s own flag debate was raging at the time. I had introduced a bill
in the legislature which would see to it that the province had its own flag. Up
to then we were using the Union Jack and I was intent on changing that. A select
committee of the legislature had held public hearings, designs for the new flag
were invited from the public, and the committee had reported
and
recommended a design created by the well-known artist Christopher Pratt.
“You can’t do that!” Smallwood said as he settled in to the dining room
table.
“Do what?” I said.
“You can’t go ahead with that silly flag. Don’t you realize you will be dead
politically?”
“Well, times have changed,” I responded. “I think the province is ready for
it.”
“This is crazy; haven’t you heard the open-line shows? The Canadian Legion is
against it, the Catholics will never support it. Stop it before it is too late,”
he shouted.
“Well, I can’t stop it now, and furthermore, I don’t want to stop it,” I
replied firmly. “We must have our own symbols; it’s important for our own
identity, of who we are, and what we can become. The Old Country is not this
place. And all the provinces have their own flag and we must establish ourselves
in every way possible.”
This did not go down very well. I could hear Smallwood grumbling under his
breath. The evening was off to a rocky start.
Undeterred, Smallwood continued to explain his many encounters with the
veterans and the strong opposition of the Catholics to the Confederation battles
in the late 1940s. They would bring the government down and I should not be
picking fights with them. I should be getting on with more important issues and
leave this alone.
I did not remember the next day what we had had for dinner that night; the
discussion consumed everything. There was no pause.
“And I have the issue and the opportunity, right now,” exclaimed Joey.
“You have?” I answered sheepishly.
“Yes I do. We are ready to open the Come By Chance refinery. Shaheen has the
money arranged, I guarantee it,” he proudly announced.
And so began a frenzy of discussion about the Great Refinery and
Mr. Shaheen and how only he and Mr. Shaheen could get the thing going
again.
The Come By Chance refinery was the brainchild of Smallwood and Shaheen during
the late sixties and early seventies and opened with great fanfare in the early
seventies (I was there), with the ship the
Queen Elizabeth II
docked in
Placentia Bay for the gala affair. Unfortunately, the whole enterprise failed in
short order and it became at the time the largest bankruptcy in Canadian
history. It was partly because of the financing required of the government that
saw John Crosbie and Clyde Wells break with Smallwood and form their own Liberal
Reform Group and attack the deal from the Opposition benches. After the
closedown of the refinery, the Newfoundland Conservative government was able to
negotiate with the Liberal government in Ottawa for Petro-Canada, then a federal
Crown Corporation, to keep the assets in good standing for a period of time so
that the provincial government could look for new owners. After the set period
of time, the refinery could be dismantled and sold for scrap.
Given this blot on Smallwood’s record, he was eager to wipe this colossal
failure away. And he and Shaheen were busy trying to do just that.
Our heated discussion at the dinner table was adjourned when Smallwood invited
me to his Portugal Cove Road office/residence, so that we could continue the
discussion and he could show me some of the work he was doing on
The Book of
Newfoundland
.
So off we go to Portugal Cove Road, less than a mile from our dinner
surroundings at the Confederation Building.
After we were suitably comfortable and our wine (later cognac) was poured, I
thought I would take the offensive and try and bring the matter of the refinery
to a head.
“Why did you have Shaheen and his people follow me during the PC Leadership
Convention and then have a suite for him right next to mine at the hotel?” I
asked abruptly.
“You wouldn’t talk to a great industrialist, a great friend of Newfoundland,
the man who wanted to invest hundreds of millions of dollars in Newfoundland.
You said that day in the hotel when
Shaheen wanted to get a
meeting with you that you wouldn’t talk to him,” exclaimed Smallwood.
“That’s right. He is not reliable or dependable,” I rejoindered.
Smallwood blew up! “He had the money then and he has the money now. And now you
have got to do something about it. You can’t afford to see millions and millions
offered and not act on it. Shaheen is in Paris right now. I spoke to him today.
I spoke to him yesterday. I speak to him almost every day. He has met with banks
and he has a deal for hundreds of millions of dollars to get the refinery
started again. He can get the crude from the Middle East and in the North Sea
and he can even get some from Nigeria. You know all about the oil. We can build
one of the great petrochemical complexes of the world, right here in
Newfoundland, right in Placentia Bay.”
I retorted as strongly as I could, “But Mr. Smallwood, you know Shaheen, he is
likely just putting you on; it does not mean very much. He is just using you to
get to me and the government—get a half-baked promise from the government for
some vague assistance and then lever the banks and vise versa. Don’t you see
that?”
“You’re crazy, you’re mad,” Smallwood shouted. “You can’t let Newfoundland
down. This great entrepreneur who has the money; he knows all the bankers and
how to get the money. He told me today that he had the money, he told me so
today . . .”
“Okay,” I said, “you believe he has the money. I do not believe he has the
money. But I will take your word for now. And I will check it out tomorrow. If
we can get written confirmation from the banks that he has all the money in
place, I will meet with him. How’s that?”
Smallwood shouted loudly. “That’s fantastic! You will do this first thing
tomorrow morning?”
“Yes, I will,” I answered.
“I didn’t say he had all the money,” Smallwood interjected, “but he has
hundreds of millions committed. Do you understand?”
“No, no,” I quickly said, sensing Smallwood was moving away from his earlier
bombast. “From the way you have been describing it, anyone listening would have
to conclude that Shaheen had all the money he needed.”
“All I am saying is that he has a lot of money arranged and I’m
sure he will get more if needed,” Smallwood responded.
It was now well-nigh midnight, and given that Smallwood had what he wanted, I
was itching to get moving. No such luck.
More wine and cognac followed and we proceeded to talk on a variety of issues.
Smallwood was interested in the simmering dispute regarding offshore oil and gas
and how he had moved earlier to ensure it belonged to Newfoundland when he had a
plaque posted on the seabed. Of course, I reminded him that his friends in
Ottawa were not recognizing this at all. It was viewed as a symbolic act without
any validity constitutionally. He had little response to this but to say that
Trudeau was a great friend and that he would look after Newfoundland. This last
statement was like a red flag to a bull to me.
Raising my voice, I exclaimed, “That is where you and I disagree most . . .
someone to look after us. That’s crazy—that is all we have known—that’s what I
want to change. The oil is off our coast, we brought it into Confederation, and
we deserve the same kind of deal as Alberta has on its oil.”