ST. JOHN'S, N.L. - The masses in Newfoundland and Labrador adore him.
The province's business community hopes to stay in his good books. And his political rivals face the prospect of being wiped out when voters head to the polls Oct. 9 -- the fixed election date set in law.
Premier Danny Williams, despite his reputation as a brash, stubborn negotiator or perhaps because of it, has achieved what every politician covets: a sweeping appeal amongst the electorate.
But beyond the wild popularity, if there's one accomplishment Williams cherishes most during his four years in office, it's that his government is well on its way to pulling Newfoundland out of its chronic state of destitution, shedding its have-not status in the process.
"We've turned the province around fiscally a lot quicker than I thought,'' the 58-year-old Rhodes Scholar said in an interview on the eve of an election call, expected Monday.
"That's a very positive thing for a province like Newfoundland and Labrador that has been on the bottom of the heap for a long period of time.''
When he was elected premier in October 2003, Williams rode in on a wave of popularity few believed he would maintain four years later, let alone build upon.
The Conservative premier inherited a province in fiscal tatters. In his first budget, Williams eliminated 4,000 public sector jobs in a bid to shrink a deficit that had ballooned to $840 million.
Two days later, 20,000 government workers set up picket lines in what became the largest strike in the province's history.
A month later, the government passed back-to-work legislation that imposed a two-year wage freeze and cuts to sick leave, prompting union leaders to warn Williams he would face labour strife for the rest of his mandate.
But the highly anticipated war between unions and the government never materialized. Less than a year in office, Williams had proven he could get his way by playing hardball at the bargaining table.
Williams then turned his sights on Ottawa.
In December 2004, in a bold move that symbolized his disdain for the federal government, he removed Canadian flags from provincial buildings after a failed round of talks aimed at giving Newfoundland full protection against equalization clawbacks on offshore oil royalties.
The flags went back up in early January 2005, and an agreement was reached with then-prime minister Paul Martin in Ottawa a month later.
Then it was time for the oil industry to feel the premier's wrath.
In April 2006, Chevron Canada disbanded its development team for the Hebron offshore oil project after Williams would not budge from his demand for a 4.9 per cent equity stake.
His demand initially drew fierce criticism from the oilpatch and others who accused him of gambling with the province's future. But in the year and a half since, he has brokered a tentative deal to develop Hebron, securing his ownership share, and acquired a similar stake in an offshoot of the current White Rose oilfield.
"The first thing people will remember him for ... is Newfoundland became more powerful or more independent as a province,'' said Stephen Tomblin, a political science professor at Memorial University in St. John's.
"He was well-educated, he was well-positioned, but he succeeded as a populist, as a guy who didn't care what the experts said, didn't care what Ottawa said. He took on oil, he took on market forces, he took on the federal government.''
But Williams's aggressive style has left some investors in the province quietly grumbling, though few dare to speak out.
"It's hard to identify a business in Newfoundland which isn't in some way dependent upon its relationship with the government,'' said John Risley, a Nova-Scotia based fisheries tycoon who has clashed with Williams in the past over the sale of FPI, Atlantic Canada's largest seafood processor.
"So why on Earth would you want to do anything to upset either a customer or a regulator?''
But the recent deals on Hebron and White Rose may usher in a new investor-friendly climate, Risley said.
"I'm hopeful that we may be seeing a new Danny Williams here,'' he said.
"My main criticism all along with him was that, `Look, it's fine to seek advantage and it's fine to bargain aggressively and be tough, but at the end of the day you need a deal.''
Since his belt-tightening budget of 2004, Williams has poured money into unfunded public sector pension plans, lowered taxes and begun paying down a colossal debt of $11.5 billion, the highest in the country per capita.
"It's important to note that we haven't just taken that money and just wasted it,'' Williams said.
Still, while Williams has taken strides to get the province's books in order, the government continues to struggle with outmigration, particularly in rural regions.
With a population of 505,000, Newfoundland has lost 7,000 people since 2001, according to Statistics Canada.
Williams's political opponents point to this as evidence that his policies have done little to help the towns and villages outside the St. John's area.
Further, the capital city region is benefiting from the offshore oil industry only because of projects signed under previous governments, said former Liberal premier Roger Grimes.
"The money that's flowing into the provincial coffers comes from the fact that Liberal governments found a way to make good arrangements, to do good deals,'' Grimes said.
Williams brushes aside the charge, and is now shifting his attention to making Newfoundland a have-province -- or as he puts it, "masters of our own house,'' echoing the slogan former Quebec premier Jean Lesage used in the 1960s to diminish Canadian control over the province's economy.
It's a goal Williams hopes to reach before the end of his next mandate.
"If we become a have-province, obviously that would be his legacy,'' Tomblin said.
Williams's Tory government holds 34 seats in the 48-seat legislature, while the Liberals have 11, the NDP one and there are two vacant seats.
