Government Transitions (A new beginning)

Memories of Entering a Manitoba Provincial Cabinet

There has been a lot of discussion in Manitoba regarding governments that are in a state of transition and terms like the caretaker convention. I have seen the transition of government from a number of perspectives, going into government, being a transitional Premier, and leaving government.

I thought I would share some experiences from these times, not as a form of revelation, but really just to document both the elegancy of transitions of government in a democracy and some of its messiness. And also just to leave a bit of a foot print of experiences that may form a more formal written document at some point in the future.

Let’s begin on a beautiful spring Sunday, May 01, 2016. I remember this afternoon very vividly. My wife and I were on the back deck of our home in Steinbach on what was a really perfect spring Manitoba day.  I had won re-election in my provincial seat of Steinbach handily (with the highest percentage I would ever achieve, nearly cracking 90%) almost two weeks before on April 19^th.Our PC Caucus was about to form government for the first time in almost two decades.

The transition team for the Brian Pallister government had been hard at work I assumed, but really, I had very little contact with them since the election. As I had been the opposition House Leader for many years, I received a few calls regarding the mechanics of the House returning with a new government Throne Speech and finishing off the budget process that had been left undone before the election. But other than that, it was very very quiet.

I remember my wife and I talking about just how nice it was to be past the election and with not any specific duties to perform at the Legislature. It was one of the few times in several years where my mind was free of planning or worry. I vividly recall the conversation drifting to how we might spend some of the extra time I might have if I wasn’t asked to serve in Cabinet.

Observers of Manitoba politics at that time were telling me that I was certain to go into Cabinet having been a long-time MLA serving in a number of leadership roles. In fact, I had heard that virtually every day since the election.

As an aside, some observers have since speculated that what I really wanted at this time was to become Speaker of the House. Having been House Leader for a long time, I had grown a deep respect for the Assembly and wouldn’t have balked at being Speaker if asked, but I was also not set on it. By 2019 I felt differently and would have been eager to be Speaker had the presiding Speaker retired or moved into Cabinet and had we won re-election in 2023 I certainly would have run for the post.  

Ironically, while Mryna Driedger may have very well had her eyes on Cabinet in 2016, she became a fine Speaker and the Assembly was well served by her leadership over seven and half years.

Perhaps it was my natural Mennonite sense of foreboding or simply a well-earned outlook to never be too sure of oneself, but on that afternoon I was not sure of going into Cabinet and quite enjoying the prospect of a relaxing summer.

And then the phone rang.

As I stood on the back deck of my home holding the phone to my ear I immediately recognized the voice of Eric Stefanson. Eric had been the long-time Finance Minister in Gary Filmon’s government, the last time the PCs had been in power in Manitoba. I had always admired Eric for his calm demeanor and simply being a nice person. I still do. He remains to this day someone who I hold in high regard.

At that time Eric was serving on the transition team for Premier-elect Brian Pallister. After some brief pleasantries he got to the point. The incoming Premier wanted to meet with me the next day (Monday, May 2^nd), and I was to be in the parking lot of a Lutheran church near Wellington Crescent at the exact time prescribed. I couldn’t be early or late.

If you have ever tried to be at a place at a specific time without being early or late, its not that easy. And so I found myself driving around the Lutheran church a few times so as to hit the exact mark.  At that time there wasn’t much concern for security for the Lutheran’s, or I might have drawn a bit of suspicion. To this day I laugh when I drive by that church remembering my suspicious behaviour.

Being something of a legalist, I parked at the exact place at the exact time I was instructed. Not a minute too late or too early. And I waited.

It occurred to me at that time that it was a good thing I trusted Eric Stefanson. Because I’ve seen enough mob movies that this reminded me of a few movie scenes that didn’t end well for the person waiting in the car.

After what seemed like a longer time than it was, a van pulled up. But instead of picking me up, it let out my fellow MLA Blaine Pederson who pretended not to see me and preceded to his car. It was no surprise he would be in Cabinet (being perhaps the new Premier’s closest political friend), but this was confirmation.

The van left.

Sometime later another vehicle pulled up. This one clearly was for me as I was waived over and got in.

After a very short drive we arrived at the home of Brian Pallister on Wellington Crescent. The home, not a small one by any means, had many doors and I was led into a side one and told to wait. A few minutes later, as I waited, I could hear the voice of another colleague, Ron Schuler, speaking on the other side of the wall. That was my indication that Ron would be joining me in Cabinet as well.

I suspect that all this intrigue was meant to avoid us knowing who else was in Cabinet until the swearing in. That wasn’t working so well. But of course, we hadn’t done this for more than two decades.

Eventually I was led through the expansive house to the reading room where Brian Pallister and Eric Stefanson were waiting. Again, some pleasantries and congratulations were exchanged. This was the first time since the election I had the opportunity to congratulate Brian. I could tell he was enjoying the suspense, but he ended it fairly quickly and informed me I would be sworn in the next day at the Human Rights Museum in Winnipeg as the Minister of Health, Seniors and Active Living and the Government House Leader. There were some other duties as well (committees etc), but that’s all I heard before I entered the fog that most new Ministers enter when given their first posting. I recall saying something that upon reflection likely wasn’t particularly well thought out or articulate. I will save the recalling of those comments for another time but in hindsight, I should have waited for the fog to clear before speaking.

Leaving that room (still in the fog), I entered another where some instructions were given about timing for the ceremony and where to meet. All that really broke through the fog was that I could only tell my wife what role I had been given. No one else. And if anyone else knew and it became public, I would exit Cabinet before entering.

I was brought back to my car behind the church (the church was either informed of these comings and goings or has a very lax parking policy) and told to exit the parking lot quickly.

The haze in my head was still heavy as I drove off the lot and started heading southeast toward Steinbach. I didn’t call my wife right away but instead headed right to Moores near St. Vital. Because it struck me I should have a new suit for this occasion. Still in a bit of a daze I didn’t exercise proper Mennonite protocols and failed to look at the price of the suit before getting to the till. It seemed high. Especially for Moores. Regardless, I grabbed the garments (which had been quickly altered by the accommodating staff) and started driving home.

It was then that I called my wife. She immediately began guessing what portfolio I had been given. She guessed wrong. Several times.

After landing on the correct answer, she also said something that wasn’t particularly well thought out either. We are clearly equally yoked. Or perhaps understood the challenges ahead.

I also informed her that I had spent more on a suit than I thought I should. And I apologized. She didn’t seem fazed by that, perhaps because she was hoping it would be reciprocated with her own wardrobe addition.

Upon arriving home, I informed my family that they were invited to the Canadian Museum of Human Rights the next day.  Each new minister was allowed six or seven guests (the number escapes me…the fog and all).

True to my word, I did not tell them what role I would be assuming or even that I was part of the Cabinet, only that they were invited and that they should come. That may have been the last good night sleep my Mom (who like most Mothers worries for her children) had for the next seven and a half years.