EYE ON LABRADOR

Eye on Labrador -

About two weeks ago, I stumbled across something that stunned me quite a bit and made me think about for far too long. The Western Star had written an editorial asking whether it's time for Danny Williams to hang up his political hat and return to private life.

Their reason for asking the question was simple. They, like many others, were dumbfounded by Williams' extraordinarily grumpy attack on NDP leader Lorraine Michael, who dared ask the premier when he'd stop posturing and finally end the drawn-out impasse between the province and its doctors.

Williams had ranted. He had raged. He had said Michaels was 'holier-than-thou.' It was almost as if Williams had suddenly decided that anyone who wasn't part of his team didn't even have the right to ask questions, let-alone expect an answer (he has apparently forgotten that when he was opposition leader, his probing, intelligent questions often left the Liberal government red-faced and on the run).

The Star's editorial - and this is the part that really made me think- also contained this question: is being premier no fun for Williams anymore?

I've been wondering about that ever since.

In the last two weeks, Williams has had to navigate his way through a couple of other crises, including the bungled, unintentional and potentially very expensive expropriation of Abitibi Bowater's Grand Falls-Windsor paper mill and continuing anger over the government's decision to relocate the air ambulance from St. Anthony to Happy Valley-Goose Bay. Surely that hasn't been too much fun.

But is it really time for Williams to go?

On the one hand, I think Williams is looking at the next election -still two years away - and thinking, 'Gee, do I really want to run, win and maybe have to hang around for another five years on top of the two more I've got until we go to the polls? I've just had heart surgery, I'm almost a senior and surely I've earned the right to kick back and enjoy my millions?'

That, I would say, is the "angel" on Williams' shoulder talking; the one that reminds him he's already won several big battles for his province and he should get out now while the going's good and while his popularity is still incredibly high.

But I don't think the "angel" is the only one whispering to Williams.

I think there's a "devil" - his ego - also weighing in here. That "devil" is telling him if he really wants to go down in history, he has to do something truly monumental; something no other could do; something so meaningful to the people his name will forever be enshrined in the history books.

That something is the Lower Churchill hydro project. It's Williams' Achilles heel and it is the reason why the "devil" is shouting down the "angel" right now. Williams can already see his name being written in history as the premier who forever changed this province's economic landscape.

I honestly don't think Williams wants to be a politician anymore. I think he's far more aware of his own mortality than he was six months ago and is dreaming of a simpler life. I think he's grown weary of those he sees as bothersome troublemakers - people like the opposition parties and members of the media who don't agree with everything he says and does - and is getting more impatient about the Lower Churchill every day.

But he wants the Lower Churchill victory so badly he can probably taste it. That's why he went to Ottawa to see Prime Minister Stephen Harper last week and that's why he didn't discuss his meeting with Harper after he left.

And that's why you won't hear Williams wildly ranting about the PM anymore. He might criticize the PM on any given issue, but mark my words, his criticism will be gentle. There will be no more ABC campaigns. In fact, I suspect you'll see Williams either stay completely silent before the next federal election or actively campaign for federal Tory candidates.

After all this time, it finally seems the premier understands that working with the PM, not against him, is the only way Williams has any chance of securing his Lower Churchill legacy and, therefore, his exit from politics.

Andrew Waugh, former editor of the Labradorian, writes from Dartmouth.