POLITICS IS ALL about timing. I think I found myself in provincial politics at just the right time, working among some of the most interesting people in the country. The Liberal Opposition in the 1980s and 1990s was a cornucopia of colourful people who were well-versed in the art of feisty debate. Prominent among them were people like Ed Roberts, Bill Rowe, Steve Neary, Roger Simmons, Chuck Furey, and many more who were razor-sharp in question period. Some had developed their skills under the tutelage of the headmaster himself, Joey Smallwood, and it often showed. They could slice and dice with the best of them, but it was Jamieson who always impressed me the most.
As an Opposition leader, Jamieson could not be matched for his eloquence. To this day I marvel at the kind of talent he had that enabled him to deliver an hour-long speech without a note and with perfect phrasing, pace, and timing. There were many both in Opposition and government who could ramble on from topic to topic for hours, killing time and boring the Speaker out of his mind, but Jamieson was not in that category. He was truly a great orator and well-deserving of the comment Pierre Trudeau made about him—that Jamieson was the greatest communicator in the country. I shall always be grateful that I was given the opportunity to sit in the same House with him, and I will always remember his kindness to those, including myself, who were so much less talented than he.
Jamieson loved his cigars, and in those days one could slip behind the curtain next to the Speaker’s chair and smoke your lungs into oblivion. In fact, it was not unusual to see the smoke bellow out into the chamber, engulfing the Speaker in a sea of blue haze. To make matters worse, the old House of Assembly on the ninth floor had no proper air conditioning or venting to disperse the smoke once it had floated into the chamber.
After question period a few of us would congregate behind the chair, often with Jamieson, to take a puff and listen as he delivered an interesting story about some political event. I recall one particular kindness he showed me that will always remain etched in my mind. As parliamentary assistant to the premier, I often had to attend some function to speak on Peckford’s behalf, generally just to bring a few minutes of greetings and to express his regret on not being able to attend because of a conflicting schedule. I was always well-prepared and often did some research on the event so that I might at least appear somewhat knowledgeable when making my remarks. Jamieson as Opposition leader would frequently be present, too. On this particular occasion, however, a representative from the Fisheries department was to stand in for the premier. If memory serves me correctly, the ceremony had something to do with the seal hunt. At approximately 5:30 p.m., a call came to the premier’s office advising us that the ceremony was to begin very shortly and that there was no one present to say a few words on government’s behalf.
As much as I hated being caught off guard, I was assigned the job of getting downtown to the appointed venue to say whatever should be said in the premier’s absence.
The dignitaries, including Jamieson, were still mulling around when I got there, and I could tell that the organizers of the event were not too impressed with having to delay the proceedings.
I had absolutely no idea what the event was about or what I would say to the crowd, no idea what kind of historical significance was attached to the occasion, and no idea how to get past my usual comments about the premier’s conflicting schedule which made it impossible for him to attend.
Jamieson, aware of the foul-up, could tell that I had been caught unprepared. He didn’t hesitate. He walked over to me, passed me a program, and began to explain in detail what the ceremony was all about. “You might mention this when you speak,” he said. “You might also make this point as well . . . It’s also interesting to . . .”
We were all ushered to our seats with both Jamieson and me in front. While the various preliminary remarks took their course, I started to jot down as many of Jamieson’s points as I could remember, on the blank page at the back of the program.
Finally the greetings began and, as the government representative, I was called first. I could see Jamieson in the front row smiling and nodding in agreement each time I mentioned one of his pointers to the audience. At last, I thought, it was over; one more event that could have been disastrous had just turned out okay.
The next morning I was at the office bright and early, getting the preliminary coffee fix with the boys before heading into the meeting with the premier. I think it was Hewlett who made the first comment about the function the night before. “By the way, Norm, how did the evening go? That was sure a foul-up last night.”
“It went okay,” I said. “I gave a few remarks to the gathering. I was no Jamieson, but it went okay!” I would understand some years later what Tom Rideout meant when he told me that one of the most difficult things he ever did in his life was to tell Jamieson that he was crossing the floor to the Tories. “Crossing to the Tory benches wasn’t a problem,” he said. “It was having to disappoint Jamieson that troubled me. You just hate to do that to a man like Jamieson.”
I could easily understand his sentiments.
Peckford had many things he wanted to accomplish for the people of Newfoundland and Labrador. On more than one occasion, I would sit in his office with him long after the House of Assembly had closed and witness the great passion he had for both the people and the Rock. He would go on and on at length, expounding upon the vital importance of gaining absolute control of any resource that might be developed on his watch. There would be no giveaways of our future this time, and it was obvious that any development plans signed by his government would be for the benefit of the people.
His speeches both in and outside the House of Assembly made it crystal clear to the locals and the mainlanders that there could never again be a repeat of the Churchill Falls fiasco. Peckford hated the have-not tag that seemed so permanently tied to our status. I always felt it was demeaning for him to sit at the table with first ministers and the prime minister and to be looked upon as one of the poorer provinces, always grovelling for a better equalization formula, debasing himself for a few more crumbs from the federal masters’ table. He was well aware that we were capable of so much more than many of the other provinces. We had resources in the ground and sea and under the sea that most provinces could only dream about: our fishery, the forestry, our mining, and now oil.
Peckford was fiercely determined that this time the opportunity to acquire “have” status would not escape us. Yes: “One day the sun will shine and have-not will be no more.” He would include and very often end many of his speeches with that one sentence. He had coined it, he meant every syllable of it, and those of us who endured each morning meeting knew that nothing, absolutely nothing, would stand in his way. The battle that would soon ensue with Big Oil and Big Government would take every ounce of energy and courage he could muster. If you knew Peckford and worked with him on a daily basis, you could bet the family farm that the feds would need either a tank or a hit man to stop this guy.
Peckford wasted very little time in creating his legacy and carving out a place in the history books of Newfoundland and indeed Canada. He had given the province its new provincial flag, and not without some controversy. The Matrimonial Property Act, the Provincial Advisory Council on the Status of Women, the Roads for Rails Agreement, and the Provincial Arts Council were or would soon be stars in his crown. He would secure the future of the Corner Brook pulp and paper mill and be a key player in the repatriation of the Canadian Constitution.
These were contributions the province would never forget; however, these things would pale in significance if only he could make that one great lasting contribution to the coffers of the province, a gift that could eventually catapult Newfoundland and Labrador into the enviable position of “have” status. He desperately wanted, in his tenure as leader of the government, to secure the future of the province with the signing of an agreement on the development of our offshore resources. This achievement would follow him well past his days in political life. It would be the jewel in his crown, but it would take a lot of fighting, a lot of time, and a lot of determination.
I would have the opportunity to see first-hand many of the hard-hitting battles that Peckford fought with the federal government over control and revenue sharing of the offshore. I witnessed these bitter disputes from inside Peckford’s office from late 1979 as his parliamentary assistant, but the next perch from which I would view the proceedings was from around the cabinet table.
In May of 1982 the news was conveyed to me by the premier that I would be given a seat in cabinet. Even though the position of parliamentary assistant was one that carried with it the opportunity for a shot at cabinet, I was a bit bewildered as to why I was going in at this point in time. There was no position available, as far as I could see. No one had been dropped from the cabinet, and there would be no new departments created. Where am I going? I thought. No sooner had the question entered my mind than the answer came.
“I can’t give you a senior department right now,” Peckford said, “but hang on awhile and we’ll see what develops. I want you to be the minister of Communications. Cyril Abery is the deputy down there, in addition to all his other duties, so it’s a good place to start and you’ll have a first-class deputy minister.”
So I would be in cabinet. But what would I do when I got there? All the doubts and fears of leaving the comfortable pew in Peckford’s office started to rise to the surface. I had longed for this day. I had daydreamed about it, and I knew it would eventually happen, but surely not now, not today. I wasn’t ready.
After our talk I went back to my office, an office separated from Peckford’s only by a partition. I sat there thinking about what had just happened to me on the other side of that wall I was leaning against. I would be one of only twenty people in the entire province who would sit at that cabinet table just outside Peckford’s office on the eighth floor. In only three short years, I had gone from climbing steel columns with the ironworkers to the House of Assembly, to Peckford’s office as his parliamentary assistant, and into the cabinet room, where all the big decisions were made.
I would find out later that Bill Marshall, Peckford’s House Leader and soon-to-be Energy minister, was responsible for my designation as Communications minister. The premier probably wanted to give me a cabinet position at this time so that he could begin another round of appointments, beginning with a new parliamentary assistant. I think it was Peckford’s intention to place me in the cabinet without a portfolio until an opportunity became available to appoint me to a department later on. That suited me just fine. Marshall, however, had advised the premier that it was far better to give a minister some level of responsibility than have both the minister and the public wondering why it was necessary at this time to place him in cabinet at all. As usual, Marshall was thinking outside the box and could always be counted on to provide a razor-sharp analysis of any problem.
Peckford relied to a great extent on Marshall as his House Leader to steer the legislation through the Assembly, but he was more than that to the premier. He was a trusted friend and adviser, one who had both the legal and political knowledge to offer the common-sense solutions to the most complicated problems that would frequently arise at cabinet meetings. I would often observe Marshall with interest at cabinet and caucus meetings. The meeting could be somewhat animated over a sensitive political issue. Speaker after speaker might argue about some sticky problem to the point of exhaustion. Some hothead might even throw down the gauntlet, willing to risk even a heart attack to advance his argument.
As House Leader, Marshall, along with his good friend Gerry Ottenheimer, sat next to the premier in cabinet and during the tirades which inevitably occurred from time to time, Peckford and his two lieutenants would always wait until everyone had exhausted the topic completely before offering any comment. When the argument finally ran its course, Peckford or Marshall would then begin to diplomatically sift through the problem, being careful not to embarrass or expose anyone too much for attempting to advance an opinion that was so obviously doomed to failure. At this point the room would always go silent, everyone knowing full well that Marshall’s comments would either carry the day or at the very least influence the outcome of any decision that would be made.
Marshall’s comrade-in-arms was a man no less respected around the table. Gerry Ottenheimer was a very close friend and confidant of Marshall, and together they formed a formidable team in the House and cabinet. Ottenheimer was also a great intellectual and linguist who was skilled, I believe, in about six languages. If Marshall needed any support to convince the caucus or cabinet of the wisdom of proceeding in a certain direction, Ottenheimer could be counted on to bear his share of the load for his good friend.
If humour was needed to defuse a tense moment, Ottenheimer would often turn to Marshall and make some friendly wisecrack: “You were a few minutes late for cabinet this morning, Chancellor, no doubt busy on the phone conferring with the Archbishop of Canterbury.” Ottenheimer would be referring, of course, to Marshall’s involvement and work in the Anglican Church. Marshall would just smile and wait for his opportunity to take a dig at Ottenheimer:
“Gerry, you look a bit tired today. No doubt up all night seeking the advice of the Vatican on ways to advance your sagging career in government.” The friendship of these two was well-known, and the thought would often cross my mind that if cabinet ministers could play a role in bringing about the reunification of the Anglican and Catholic churches, then Marshall and Ottenheimer should be pressed into service at once.
As far as I or anyone else could determine, Marshall, Ottenheimer, and Peckford continued to be a very compatible trio. If there were any differences among them on the goals that had to be reached leading up to the signing of the Atlantic Accord in 1985, they were difficult to spot. Marshall’s determination to see Newfoundland’s vast oil reserves developed for the benefit of Newfoundlanders was in complete sync with Peckford’s philosophy of “a good deal or no deal.” Peckford let it be known far and wide that the oil could stay under the seabed for another billion years before we would accept one nickel less than a fair share. It was understood as well that Newfoundland was looking for a significant measure of control over the resource itself.
Dealing with the challenges of a cash-strapped government in the early days of Peckford’s tenure was a difficult row to hoe; however, the odd glimmer of hope showed up from time to time. One such ray of light appeared not long after Peckford’s own leadership victory of 1979. In that same year a young Progressive Conservative prime minister named Joe Clark was elected, and, being a Westerner from an oil-rich province like Alberta, he would prove to be a compatible friend for a young premier who wanted his oil resources treated as if they were on land just like Alberta. There was one drawback, however, that would prove to be a stumbling block to an early deal with the Progressive Conservative Government of Joe Clark. Clark was leading a minority government, and it lasted only a few months. During these few months, Clark had given a commitment to transfer ownership and jurisdiction of offshore mineral rights to coastal provinces. With the defeat of the Clark government, however, came the death of the promise. Clark had not had time to implement his policy on the offshore.
I remember vividly Peckford’s disappointment over Clark’s defeat, but he wasn’t one to expend a lot of energy brooding over what might have been. Trudeau was now prime minister, and Peckford knew he had to set about the business of dealing with the new government, although he was painfully aware that dealing with Trudeau would be much more difficult than with Clark and John Crosbie.
Peckford’s negotiating team continued their tough stance with the Liberal Government, and the premier remained resolute in his commitment to a solid deal on the offshore. Not everyone, however, supported his approach. Even St. John’s city council weighed in, demanding that the premier loosen his grip a little, and be more conciliatory with the federal government. “The city needs a deal on the offshore right now, we need activity here, revenues to grow the region,” was the call from City Hall. That kind of pressure might have worked on some, but not on Peckford. He would not be moved.
Peckford’s Energy minister at this time was Leo Barry. Barry had contested the leadership of the party, placing third, and had won his seat in the 1979 election. Peckford had immediately appointed him to the Energy portfolio. Barry was well-respected and capable enough; however, from working in the premier’s office at that time, I could tell that the two did not always see things from the same perspective, vis-à-vis the ongoing negotiations with the federal government and the province’s stand on many of the issues. Peckford had also held the Energy portfolio himself during the Moores administration and knew exactly what he wanted from an Energy minister.
In the meantime, the federal government was just beginning to play hardball with Newfoundland. In 1980 the federal Liberals introduced the infamous National Energy Program and, in the process of doing so, said they would take the province to the Supreme Court and bring to a head the whole issue of ownership of the offshore once and for all.
While the feds were doing their best to break the back of Peckford’s plans, John Crosbie and Pat Carney, the Opposition Energy critics, were assailing Trudeau on a daily basis in the House of Commons in an effort to get the deal Newfoundland wanted. The premier was pleased to be making some headway, even if it was only with the Opposition. Trudeau, in the meantime, was resisting Peckford’s every move.
Back home the premier was having a few internal problems of his own. Leo Barry had tendered his resignation from cabinet, citing disagreement with Peckford over negotiations with the federal government on Newfoundland’s claim to offshore resources. To the casual observer the resignation was something of a shock, especially at such a sensitive time in the debate on ownership and control of this vital resource. However, for those of us who were in a close working relationship with the premier, it was no surprise at all. In fact, it was a long time coming. There was always a certain friction between the two, and it was not difficult to spot. Maybe the reason for the differences went back to the leadership convention just two years earlier, or maybe it was a genuine feeling on Barry’s part that the direction in which he wanted to take the negotiations was not fully appreciated by Peckford. In any event, it was time to move on, and the premier, as usual, wasted little time in filling the space left by Barry. Bill Marshall was now appointed the new Energy minister.
The negotiations that would follow from 1981 onward to 1985 consumed every waking moment for Peckford and Marshall. Crosbie and Carney continued their assault in the Commons and worked tirelessly for the province. In my opinion, one of the most significant developments in the offshore debate occurred while the federal PC Party was in Opposition. Pat Carney, the Energy critic and later minister of Energy, Mines, and Resources in Prime Minister Mulroney’s administration, reached a very important Memorandum of Understanding in 1984 between Mulroney and Brian Peckford. The memorandum stated that the Atlantic Accord that Mulroney would implement and sign if he became prime minister would “recognize the right of the Atlantic provinces to be the principal beneficiary of the wealth of the oil and gas off their shores consistent with a strong and united Canada.”
Although Mulroney was in Opposition and could do little at the time to effect such a deal, it was an important step for the federal Tories to take. After all, this memorandum was now official policy for the federal Progressive Conservative Party and would be a major step forward in the economic development of Atlantic Canada. The MOU of 1984 also recognized that even though the issue of ownership had been dealt with by the Supreme Court of Canada just three months before in March, a Conservative Government would still recognize the right of Newfoundland and Labrador to be the principal beneficiary of the wealth of the oil and gas off its shore.
Mulroney went even further, as pointed out in the Royal Commission report on “Renewing and Strengthening our place in Canada.” The soon-to-be prime minister said that a new PC administration would be prepared immediately to conclude an agreement with Newfoundland on the offshore and that the principal of revenue sharing between the federal and provincial levels should be the same for all oil- and gas-producing regions without discrimination. Therefore, “Newfoundland would be entitled to establish and collect resource revenues as if these resources were on land.” Mulroney further wrote into the agreement that there would be no dollar-for-dollar loss of equalization payments as a result of offshore revenues flowing to the province.
All of that sounded great, but there is always a snag or two preventing a clear dash to the finish line. It was no different here. Convincing Mulroney and his caucus of the absolute fairness of an exceptionally good deal for Newfoundland on the offshore was one thing, but what about the rest of Canada? Mulroney made his intentions clear in words that probably went something like this: “Now Brian, I know what the deal is. I know you’ll work hard to deliver the Newfoundland seats for me in the upcoming election, but you have to realize that what you’re asking for here will catch a lot of attention from the rest of the country. They have to be convinced also that Newfoundland is deserving of the deal you’re looking for. After all, the Supreme Court has already ruled that the offshore resources are the property of the federal government, so the rest of Canada will be wondering why you guys should be given any more than what we as a government, if we become government, are reasonably expected to give you.”
I would hesitate to think that these were Mulroney’s exact words or that he wasn’t already committed to the MOU that was now in Peckford’s hands. He did, however, have over 100 incumbent members on his team, not all of whom were pleased with the Memorandum of Understanding reached between the two PC parties. In addition, the Tories were not altogether sure at this point how such a deal might be viewed by the Canadian public in the middle of an election campaign.
The question on everyone’s mind now was how to bring Canada around to our way of thinking. On so many occasions we had told the old joke that Newfoundland did not join Canada in 1949, we had invited Canada to join us. But the question still remained: How do we bring Canada around to our position on the offshore? How do we not only catch their attention on this issue but also actually get them to agree that it’s right, just, fair, and reasonable for Newfoundland to be the chief beneficiary of its oil resources—and if they become filthy rich in the process then let it be because we, Canada, had the wisdom to see that a good deal for Newfoundland is a good deal for Canada? Tall order. Tall, tall order.
Whatever needed to be done must be done now, was the consensus around the cabinet table. It was almost a foregone conclusion that the election would soon come, but it was not a fait accompli that Mulroney would win. Still, Peckford had to be ready on two fronts. He had to win seats for the federal Tories and at the same time convince the rest of Canada that we deserved to get our shot at becoming a “have” province. Both goals were achievable, we thought; everyone knew, however, it would be tough slogging on both fronts.
As is the case in every government or political party, politics is leadership-driven. It’s the leader who must produce. It is he who must do the heavy lifting. Only he can speak for the province and, when the final chapter is written, it is he who takes his place among the winners or losers in the pages of history.
Peckford would have to press his shoulder to the wheel and ease Mulroney’s fears of the possible backlash that could occur once the Canadian public began to analyze the MOU. Worse still, the analyzing might be done in the middle of the campaign.
The plan was put in place. Peckford would begin a cross-country speaking tour of eleven cities in the nation—the objective: convince the country of the often-quoted words, “Whatever is good for____ (you fill the blank) is good for the rest of Canada.” In this case, if Newfoundland should thrive, then Canada would be all the better for it. Newfoundland’s continual dependency on the rest of Canada for equalization payments would be greatly reduced and, as a result, the bill to Ontario, Alberta, and British Columbia would be reduced. Along with that would go the message of jobs, jobs, and more jobs for unemployed Newfoundlanders, thereby reducing our need for unemployment insurance. All good reasons for a good deal, but still a tough sell.
The tour began, and with a significant mainland component attached to it. A mainland speech writer would be hired. It made sense. The speech writer would be adept at using reverse psychology to its maximum advantage. Instead of pleading the case based strictly on Newfoundland’s absolute need for a better quality of life, he would argue that it would be a terrible disgrace—yes, even a black mark on Canada’s international reputation—if she allowed Newfoundland to languish in poverty while it had all this natural resource wealth. It was a first-class plan, and it worked.
The Peckford message had not been well-received in the initial stages of the tour. As he progressed across the country, however, the message began to resonate with the Canadian public. It was catching on. It was having the desired effect and would pay big dividends in the not-too-distant future.
Things were not going well in 1984 for Trudeau. The polls were sending the message of certain defeat for the Liberals in the next election. In these circumstances, and not wanting to see his political career end with a loss to the Tories, Pierre Trudeau did the only thing he could: he stepped down and called a leadership convention.
Peckford by now could sense a change was on the way, both for Canada and, if for Canada, then certainly for Newfoundland. By now the Liberals were in the process of putting their leadership house in order. Jean Chrétien was ready to do battle, but so was his recycled buddy John Turner. Peckford didn’t seem too impressed with the front-runners and was probably thinking that either of the two would continue to walk in Trudeau’s footsteps, which would not be good for Newfoundland’s chances of getting the offshore agreement we wanted. Peckford resembled a caged tiger in those days as he waited for the new prime minister to be elected at the convention. Whether it was Turner or Chrétien, the winner would be prime minister, at least until the general election was called and, who knew, maybe well beyond that.
It was over in a flash, and Turner was officially at the helm. The speculation was rampant from coast to coast as to what the new leader’s next move might be. Turner had walked in off the street to claim the Liberal leadership. He didn’t have a seat in the Commons, so maybe he would delay the election, deal with a few of the tough files like Newfoundland’s offshore, maybe have one of the safe-seat Liberals step down and call a by-election. Internal polls were showing the Liberals with a comfortable lead, which was not too surprising, considering that the party had just come off an upbeat leadership convention. So Turner did what most leaders would do. Seventy-nine days following the leadership convention and ten days after his swearing in, Turner called it. The election campaign was on. This would be the most important federal election campaign that Newfoundland would ever be involved in.
Peckford by now could taste and smell a new opportunity about to emerge for Newfoundland’s offshore. He already had Mulroney’s MOU in his back pocket. This could be the big moment we’ve waited for, Peckford must have been saying to himself. Surely fate would be kind just this one time. There was so much riding on this election, so much at stake. One could bet that these thoughts penetrated every fibre of his being. Peckford had done his part. He had poured every ounce of his energy into bringing us to this point, but he was also painfully aware that it wasn’t far enough. It wasn’t on paper unless Mulroney was elected.
I had witnessed Peckford’s determination in the 1979 and 1982 provincial elections. No effort was spared to win, and it would be no different this time for the federal election. Every stop would be pulled out for Mulroney. Every Tory MHA was to hit the road and let every one of his constituents know exactly what was at stake in this election. Peckford himself would hire a bus and tour the province, visiting all fifty-two districts to deliver the message.
Mulroney didn’t need a lot of new seats to win the election. Going onto the battlefield with 103 incumbent members, he had to win just four or five extra seats in each province to form a majority government.
The evening of September 4, 1984, was a history-making night not only for the federal Progressive Conservatives, but for the people of Newfoundland and Labrador. The thirty-third Parliament of Canada would see the PCs led by Brian Mulroney, winning the largest majority government in Canadian history. By contrast, the Liberals suffered the worst defeat of any governing party up to that time in Canadian politics. This night also marked the end of Liberal dominance at the federal level. The PCs had taken 50.3 per cent of the popular vote: 6,278,000 votes, which gave them 211 seats. Clearly not just the fifty or sixty seats the party was aiming for to form their majority, but an extra 108 seats for Brian Mulroney. The Canadian people looked for and got the change they wanted.
Turner was a broken man. The 147 seats he had going into the election was reduced to forty. How could any new leader lose 107 seats fresh off a leadership convention? This was the question of the day. Easily done, was the answer. First of all, the internal polling by the Liberals was off by a country mile. To add cynicism to the public view of the Liberals in their declining days, Pierre Trudeau had dealt his successor a hard blow; some would say it was below the belt. He had appointed 200 of his Liberal buddies to well-paying patronage positions. These positions included senators, judges, and executives to various Crown corporations—all plum jobs.
Turner was probably helpless to prevent Trudeau from doing this dastardly deed, but Mulroney capitalized upon the public’s severe backlash against the Liberal appointments and verbally sliced and diced Turner in the national television debate. While Turner had groped for words to defend himself against the charge of Liberal greed, saying he couldn’t prevent it, Mulroney, realizing the nation was waiting for a knockout punch, pointed a finger and landed a haymaker squarely on Turner’s chin. “You could have prevented it, sir. You could have prevented it. You could have said no.” The game was over. Turner hit the mat. Mulroney strapped on the gold belt.
Again, Peckford had done his part. His province-wide tour had given Mulroney four Newfoundland seats, and Mulroney would not forget the premier’s effort. I will never forget the premier’s look of satisfaction as he thanked his caucus and cabinet for our work on the campaign. He knew that the next few months would produce opportunities for wealth that had long eluded us. Sure, we had dreams of shaking off the chains of dependency to federal handouts. Yes, we talked a lot about “have” status and how one day the sun would shine, but I wonder if Peckford at that time had a real and a full appreciation for just how much he was about to accomplish for the people of the province.
Peckford and Marshall continued to work with the federal team for the next five months, refining the terms of the soon-to-be-signed Atlantic Accord. Newfoundland was also especially fortunate to have a team of officials working with the government who could not be matched for their intelligence, loyalty, and commitment to the province. Cyril Abery, Ron Penney, Dave Vardy, Jim Thistle, Dave Norris, Cabot Martin, John Fitzgerald, and Barbara Knight are just a few of the people I remember who gave every waking moment to the work of the Atlantic Accord.
Almost thirty years have gone by since that historic day in 1985 when the Accord was signed. Thirty years provides a good backdrop or vantage point from which to evaluate the effect the Atlantic Accord has had upon our province. There are many who say that the Accord has been the financial saviour for Newfoundland and Labrador. Certainly up to this point (2013) we would not be enjoying the prosperity we now have without the commitment Brian Peckford and his government made to ensure that we were to be the major beneficiary of the wealth generated by oil revenues.
There’s no doubt in my mind that with the signing of the Atlantic Accord, Peckford, Marshall, and the Mulroney team produced the second most important benefit for our province that we’ve seen since 1949. Confederation, of course, remains the most progressive step forward for Newfoundland over our 500-year history. I realize there are some today who would argue that point—I would submit, however, not successfully.
It is always interesting to hear what informed outside observers think of what Newfoundland achieved on that day. Richard Cullen was one such observer. Cullen, a professor at the University of Hong Kong’s faculty of law, is an expert on intergovernmental disagreements related to natural resources. He wrote extensively on disputes over resource revenue sharing in three federal systems, namely Canada, Australia, and the United States. In a Telegram interview he was quoted as saying “the 1985 Atlantic Accord stands out as perhaps the most favourable deal ever struck between Ottawa and a province with respect to control over natural resources.” He went on to say that “from his point of view, Newfoundland learned a great deal from its past bad experience with the Churchill Falls deal and that this disastrous deal motivated and energized the debate on the offshore and led to hard bargaining and sophisticated negotiations by the administration of Brian Peckford.”
Peckford’s government, especially from 1982 to 1985, was not only battling the federal government but its own people as well. I vividly remember the hundreds—no, thousands—of letters I answered for the premier while working in his office, most of which were related to the offshore negotiations. Some were highly supportive, but most wanted a deal and wanted it immediately.
Cullen, however, in his interview with the Telegram, confirmed that Peckford, because of his firm negotiating stance, ended up with a very good deal in terms of the benefits the Atlantic Accord brought to the people of Newfoundland and Labrador. “That hard, quality work,” said Cullen, “enabled the province to reap the benefits they have now.”
I am quoting Cullen extensively simply because he speaks as one with no political interests or motives and no affiliation with any party that I’m aware of: he tells it like it is and gives credit where it’s due.
Over the years since 1985, I believe, Peckford, Mulroney, and Marshall have not received their due. It is my impression that few remember what they did to establish the oil industry in Newfoundland. Cullen, however, tells the true story when he “credits then-premier Peckford and his team, including then-energy minister Bill Marshall, for the province’s insistence on a measure of control over the resource. They saw,” said Cullen, “that what mattered was who controlled what happened in the offshore and who controlled where the money went.” Professor Cullen was quick to add: “Of all those places which were battling to get control of offshore resources, Newfoundland was much more hungry than any other of those involved. Is the Atlantic Accord the best of the lot?” he said. “I think there’s no question about that in economic terms.”
Memorial University economist Wade Locke, who also gave a presentation at the twenty-fifth anniversary of the Accord’s signing, was spot-on when he stated, “This document, in my mind is one of the most important ones we’ve had, probably since Confederation: this document has allowed for the transformation of the economy in the way we’re now seeing.” Locke was also quoted as saying that this transformation is even greater than anyone thought possible when the deal was inked twenty-five years earlier.
Peckford obviously was aware that the energy sector was about to take off in a big way. Twenty-five years ago a barrel of oil was somewhere between ten and fifteen dollars, which was not what one could consider black gold. However, I heard him say on more than one occasion that he felt world oil prices would soon change and that security of supply would be a major factor in determining the price of oil. He would remark that this stuff would be black gold, and he was right. If only the government of the day had been equipped with the same foresight and good sense when the Churchill Falls agreement was signed.
Wade Locke made some other interesting observations in his presentation at the anniversary signing that caused a flashback for me to the days when Peckford fought so hard for a say over the pace and mode of development. “The Accord,” said Locke, “gives the province just such a say and to have that say is vitally important because the pace and mode of development are fundamental things that also give us a say on benefits.” Having a say on the mode of development on Hibernia, for example, would prove to be of great benefit to the construction industry because of the gravity-based platform that had to be built right here in Newfoundland. The ironworkers, and indeed all the trades, were about to preside over a construction smorgasbord.
I sometimes wonder if any of us have really taken the time to look back and fully realize the impact oil revenues have had upon so many people in our province and country. In 2008-2009, offshore royalties accounted for forty-four cents of every dollar in provincial own-source revenues. Again Peckford had achieved what no other premier, with the exception of Smallwood, was able to accomplish in such a short time. Up to that point Newfoundland had reaped a total of $6.6 billion over seven years, almost a billion a year from oil royalties alone. That doesn’t include corporate taxes or spinoff benefits from jobs or federal offset payments.
I mentioned Ron Penney, who was on Peckford’s negotiating team and who became the top civil servant with the city of St. John’s. Penney, I think, has a talent for putting things in their proper perspective. When asked by a Telegram reporter how he thought things would have played out if there was no Atlantic Accord deal reached in 1985, he said, “We’d be as poor as church mice. Without the Atlantic Accord, Ottawa would have total control. We would have had absolutely no say. The only benefits we would have gotten would have been those that would have naturally come our way because of location.” Penney went on to say that, “They [the oil companies] would have had to service the supply boats, but none of the other industrial benefits would have taken place. We would not have gotten any money out of it, there would have been no royalties or taxes.” Penney cut to the chase when he said, “The current prosperity is all related to oil, so without that we’d be sunk”.
Peckford had done what many considered to be impossible. He had secured the future of Newfoundland and Labrador in his ten years as premier and put the province on the road to prosperity. He and Marshall had also insisted that some key provisions form part of that agreement, provisions that would protect our interests in a very tangible way. They included the establishment of the Canada-Newfoundland Offshore Petroleum Board to administer the agreement, a board on which we have equal representation with the federal government. The offices of the board and staff would be located in St. John’s. The federal legislation implementing the Accord also permitted Newfoundland to establish and collect resource revenues and provincial taxes of general application as if these petroleum-related activities were on land here in the province. The agreement was clear that the province would receive the proceeds of revenues from petroleum-related activities in the offshore area—revenues like royalties, corporate income tax, sales taxes, bonus payments, rentals and licence fees, and provincial taxes consistent with the spirit of the Accord. The two governments agreed also that there would be no dollar-for-dollar loss on equalization payments as a result of offshore revenues flowing to the province. Offset payments would come to the province, which would eventually expire in later years when Newfoundland would achieve “have” status.
In addition, there would be an assurance that first consideration would be given to services provided from within the province and to goods manufactured here. Also, to put the cherry on the cream, first consideration for training and employment opportunities would go to Newfoundlanders and Labradorians, along with research and development opportunities and education and training opportunities within the province.
These were just a few of the key clauses that the Peckford government was able to secure. Mulroney and his team had obviously done their part well in negotiating this deal. It was good for us, and it was fair to Canada. Prime Minister Mulroney had kept his word to the province and issued a statement on the day of signing: “We have believed firmly in the principle of equality—equality in terms of joint management and equality in terms of revenue sharing.” With the signing of the Accord, Mulroney, Carney, and Crosbie were in effect saying that they meant what they said in the Memorandum of Understanding with the province, and that this was proof of their goodwill and commitment to the principles set forth in that document.
To further enhance and make clear the intentions of both the Government of Canada and the Government of Newfoundland, Pat Carney, the federal minister of Energy, had her say as well on signing day. Her statement, in my opinion, was the most significant one given during the ceremony. It was about serving and securing the national interest while serving the people of Newfoundland and Labrador. She said, “The Atlantic Accord is designed to facilitate the development of the vast oil and gas resources in the offshore. It is based on three fundamental concepts. The first is that the principal beneficiary of these resources should be Newfoundland and Labrador because that is in the national interest. The second concept is that these resources should contribute to energy security for all Canadians because that too is in the national interest. The third and final concept is that producing provinces should be treated equally in areas such as revenue sharing, whether the resource is on land or offshore, because that equally serves the national interest.” Carney could have lifted the entire statement from one of Peckford’s speeches. He had said the same words over and over again in a hundred different ways in a hundred different speeches in a hundred or a thousand different halls all across Newfoundland and Labrador and all across Canada. I can still hear the passion in his voice and see him punching the air at a convention or giving a speech in the House of Assembly. “We don’t want anything special from anyone, we just want what’s rightfully ours. We don’t even want all of it.” Then he would go on for an hour explaining our position and why we should stand firm on it.
Peckford had the talent to hold an audience in the palm of his hand. He would often remind me of an old-time Baptist preacher holding a prayer meeting under the tent. With each phrase that Peckford uttered about the offshore and our right to its wealth, someone in the crowd could be heard saying, “That’s right, Brian,” or, “Yes, right on, Brian.” I would not have been surprised to hear someone shout “Amen” on these occasions.
Now, today, February 11, 1985, Brian Peckford was placing his signature on a piece of paper that would eventually lift Newfoundland and Labrador to greater heights of economic wealth than she ever dreamed possible. Today, where so many have tried and failed in their attempt to secure the economic well-being of the province, Peckford could look back with pride and say, “I did what I set out to do. It was a tough battle, but I saw it through to the end and I succeeded.”
One member of Newfoundland’s negotiating team, Jim Thistle, Q.C., recently wrote an article for Business News, a magazine published by the St. John’s Board of Trade. The cover story was titled “Our Oil Industry.” Thistle’s comments about the offshore boom and its enormous growth over the last few years reveal just how significant Peckford’s contribution to today’s economy really was. Thistle remarked that “from 1979 when Chevron spudded the Hibernia discovery well, through the years of confrontations with Ottawa over control of offshore revenues, then-premier Brian Peckford maintained an unwavering focus on jobs and infrastructure. His perseverance would carry him through the loss of the province’s claim before the Supreme Court of Canada, through the 1985 agreement with Prime Minister Mulroney on the Atlantic Accord, all the way to the 1988 Agreement in Principle for the development of the Hibernia field.” Thistle also mentioned in his article that “Peckford endured enormous criticism at the time for his belief that the offshore could underpin a different province.” I think Thistle is also correct when he stated the following:
Initially the contribution of the Accord and Hibernia project to the economy in the province didn’t get the attention it deserved. In the period 1992 to 1996, actual employment in the province fell just over 2 percent, while going up elsewhere in Canada. This was the natural consequence of the fishery closures, but it masked the transformation that was underway. In the place of poorly paid seasonal jobs, the offshore offered long-term prospects that were, shall we say, more than competitive. To the end of 2006, the cumulative expenditures on the Newfoundland and Labrador offshore reached $23 billion, a number almost beyond comprehension when used in the context of a population just slightly larger than London, Ontario.
Again, Peckford’s unwavering commitment to the deal he finally secured for the province is today the catalyst for enormous continued growth. The oil industry story by Thistle provided some other interesting numbers as well: for example, the three oil fields in production in the Jeanne d’Arc Basin, in 2007, produced forty-two per cent of Canada’s light conventional oil and generated thirty-five per cent of the province’s gross domestic product.
Thistle went on, saying, “On the near horizon, other projects beckon. For oil, the most important of these is Hebron, because of its size and its status, as a second standalone GBS project.” Again, because of Peckford’s insistence on having a major cut of all the industrial benefits associated with oil production, we can now be assured that the GBS project will be done here in Newfoundland.
IN WRITING THESE few brief lines on the negotiations leading up to the signing of this historic document, it was not my intention to convey the impression that I am in any way an expert on the intricacies that are obviously attached to this complex agreement. Sifting through and expanding upon the complicated details of this document is left to greater minds. The knowledge I have of the work that led up to the signing of the Accord came to me first-hand as a result of my presence in cabinet from 1982 onward. Before that it was my time working in the premier’s office that provided me with a taste of what Brian Peckford and Bill Marshall were trying to achieve. In fact, one might say that if you worked in the premier’s office in those days, you had to be exposed to a steady daily diet of complex clauses and figures that Peckford could rhyme off at will.
As I wind up my short exposé of events that will undoubtedly continue to help shape our future, I hope that I have played some small part in giving credit where it’s due. The oil industry we have today was established by the Peckford government and built upon by the governments that came after Peckford, Wells, Tobin, Grimes, and Williams. It was built upon by other administrations in much the same way that a carpenter adds a porch or cuts a new window in the house that the builder erected. Premier Peckford, Energy Minister Bill Marshall, and Brian Mulroney, along with a great team of provincial and federal officials, built the house. Others have since added adornments to help decorate it. Their contribution is appreciated also, and their story, I’m sure, will be told as well.