History lesson, I

A few choice snippets from the increasingly fascinating Newfoundland: Dawn Without Light; Politics, power and the people in the Smallwood era, by the late Herbert L. Pottle (Breakwater, 1979):

The Department of Economic Development, over which the Premier presided from beginning to end, was [the professional parasites'] communal beehive, the ready answer to most any prayer.

In summary, those who kept obeying the Leader did so mainly for immediate gain or the hope of future gain, or because they could never achieve anything like comparable security in the competitive world at large. Those who rankled under the chain of command and disagreed with the plan and operation were encouraged to quit, or voluntarily resigned, oftener than not on matters of principle. [p. 16]

To this supreme priority all else, however important in itself, was to be subordinated. Serious opposition to this instant revelation, or in fact to any major initiative of the government, either within the legislature or without, was spurned as something akin to disloyalty. [17]

As premier, he took into his own hands, powers to which he had no moral or constitutional right. He held so much power that many people were actually afraid of him. It seems incredible that such could happen in the 20th century in a democracy operating under the British parliamentary system. How far back in history must we go to find a minister of the crown whom law-abiding citizens had reason to fear? If we omit Mr. Duplessis we have to go all the way back to the Earl of Stafford in the 17th century. [24, quoting Ted Russell]

Another classic technique of control is to pre-empt the field of all possible competing interests and to fill the vacuum with the overriding interest to be promoted. [24]

[In Newfoundland] "a gift of the gab" is as likely as not to be complimentary rather than offensive — it depends largely on the role and reputation of the person bearing the gift. In popular local usage it carries the current equivalent of "speaking in tongues", in the sense of the speaker's being generally understood. When applied to Smallwood by those who had ears to hear, it was tantamount to the voice of prophecy. [34]

The House had barely opened when a Bill to establish a Department of Economic Development was introduced by the Premier and Minister-of-Economic-Development-to-be, and had reached Second Reading before the Opposition had had time to read it thoughtfully even once. [35]

Smallwood did not give me the impression of one who, in times of conflict, behaved as if sweet were the uses of adversity — excepting when his own status was not on the line. Otherwise — in his public performances, for instance — he seemed to revel in a contentious role... During the first years of Newfoundland as a province, when Smallwood was unchallenged in the saddle and there was not enough of his record yet to draw ominous criticism, he was actually looking for a fight. [131-2]

[Smallwood's] most withering fire seemed to be reserved for those victims who functioned outside the House, although part of their duties might lie within — such as press reporters.

In trying to come upon anything like a principle to help explain this, the most reliable one I have discerned is that Smallwood was most sensitive to criticism, by word or deed, which challenged his right to rule, which disputed those areas in which he was his own expert — any move that he regarded as calculated to cut down the prestige of his leadership... the rumblings of the underground at large, especially those which were stirred by decision-making powers or by the media — all of them with multiplier effect in the voting constituency — those were the clarion call to all-out warfare. [133]

Mrs. Dora Russell complained to the local press of being "verbally lashed" by the Premier for her reporting, and that any hint of criticism "drives the Premier to a frenzy that is fascinating to watch. It doesn't seem human or decent." The enlightening footnote is that Mrs. Russell's husband [Ted Russell] had earlier resigned from the Smallwood cabinet over its financial policy. [136]

One of the first things we can say with assurance is that, in spite of the battery of adverse judgment that could rightfully be brought against [the anti-IWA] legislation, Smallwood was not primarily concerned about the constitutional propriety of the steps he intented to take. [143]

... I cannot think of any Canadian occasion notably involving Newfoundland at this national level of national concern. Instead, whenever the Smallwood government and the federal government came to the point of serious interplay, it was invariably, as I recall around such issues as finances and jurisdiction... [179]

How does that thing go, you know, about how those who ignore history are doomed to do something or other?