ES © open lines ¢ WHEN I’M ASKED to assess Bill Vander Zalm’s life in politics, a Henry Kissinger quote pops quickly into mind: “Ninety per cent of the politicians give the other 10 per cent a bad reputation.’’ Compared to the confused and disloyal cabal of Socred detractors, the Premier is a breath of in- spiration. Yet the perpetual circus of Brit- ish Columbia politics is more reminiscent of the French writer who said about his own country, “If it were not for the government, we would have nothing to laugh at. After six weeks of contempla- tion and widespread controversy, the Premier wasted a glorious op- portunity. His supporters, while pleased that he would remain in office, must have felt something was missing. There was nothing in the speech to engender exhilaration or even renewed confidence. In a radio editorial following the broadcast, I said I was reminded of the Huckleberry Finn classic, involving a flim fam man known as the Duke of Bridgewater. Ina small village, the Duke advertised a major theatrical production, to be held on three successive nights. Half the village population crowd- ed into the tiny theatre the night of the first show. When the curtain went up, a nude man in gaily painted colors, pranced around the stage, the ap- parition was gone, down came the curtain, and the audience sat silently in stunned disbelief. Like kindling generating cracks and sparks, the spectators’ sense of outrage was slow to evolve. Wise leadership advised them that if they were to tell the other half of the village what had hap- pened, they would be called suckers. So they went about the community telling everyone it was a great show. The theatre was packed again the second night and the result was the same. Now the whole village was angry. They all stormed the theatre for the third night. It took a while 2 ~Magi before they were convinced that the curtain was never going to be raised. By that time, Huck Finn, The Duke of Bridgewater, and their pal were cheerfully rafting down the river, buoyed by $468 worth of confidence. kak If Bill Vander Zalm possessed a devious sense of humor, and a cynical attitude toward the public, these past few weeks could be regarded as a masterful practical joke. After the Oak Bay defeat, the Premier’s announcement that he would consult friends, family and advisers over the holiday season and deliver a televised ad- dress in January, fell like a guillotine on public criticism. An egomaniac, finding himself the sole subject of public debate and even personal analysis for weeks on end, would experience nirvana. The Premier, who shares with all politicians and pertormers a noteworthy sense of self, should not be considered the cause of a monomaniacal media ... the media is obsessed with Vander Zalm. He tries to debate issues. His critics only want to debate the subject of him. Then they blame him for be- ing self-centred. The Premier had an opportunity rarely -— if ever — presented to his predecessors. The weeks of suspense and media speculation would have created a monumental audience. It was a chance to etch a signature into the public psyche: what we saw last week is what we are to get, then we can expect an apologetic, defensive and unimaginative profile.