Division and diamonds are the two main issues affecting the future of the two new territories and this city. But instead of showing progress on either matter, the legislative assembly has been caught up in a classroom dispute over who wrote a note.

The public is understandably dismayed, for there is no solution in sight. It's a matter of the government's integrity.

Premier Don Morin, rather than dealing with the problem, attacks all critics and demands the public believe he and his cabinet and government are being treated unfairly.

The fact is the RCMP have been investigating the government long enough to confirm there is something to investigate. Is the RCMP treating cabinet unfairly?

Despite numerous complaints, resignations and firings, Premier Morin dismissed the notion of a health-care crisis in the Keewatin and patted his minister on the back for a job well done. Are the people of the Keewatin treating cabinet unfairly?

Two of the Premier's closest associates buy into a multi-million-dollar deal with the government and the public wants to know how the deal was done. The Premier gets mad because the questions embarrass his friends, his government and himself.

Then an intimidating unsigned note is delivered to the MLA asking most of those embarrassing questions. A handwriting expert concludes deputy premier Goo Arlooktoo is the likely author. Premier Morin promises to resign if that turns out to be true.

Within 24 hours, and three weeks after the note was written, High Arctic MLA Levi Barnabas, who denied writing the note when asked previously, takes the blame but refuses to provide a sample of his handwriting as proof.

The premier and deputy premier applaud Barnabas for his courage. Just what is it the people of the NWT should be applauding?

Anyone who was surprised by last week's announcement that local phone rates are going up again probably wasn't paying too close attention to the telephone industry in the NWT.

Competition is coming, even if not until July of 2000, and so local rates will have to rise to make up for the lower long-distance rates that come with competing services. The increases, which add up to another $10 by next fall, are probably not unreasonable, and neither is a 30-month wait for competition. No point in rushing into something when a vital service is involved.

Our only complaint is we still have to watch another couple of years of Candice Bergen offering us 15-cent-a-minute calling anywhere in Canada before we can take advantage of it. Oh well.

Our sympathy goes out to Ndilo's Robert Beaulieu, who remains knee-deep in a legal quagmire over attempts to recover the $18,000 court-ordered compensation from the arsonist who torched his home.

Seems Sammy Aitoak, who did serve two years for the dirty deed, has now vanished, leaving Beaulieu's court order pretty worthless.

One wonders why justice officials didn't arrange a payment plan for the convicted arsonist during his incarceration, or at least keep track to the point of ensuring that Aitoak, upon release, left a forwarding address.

Now four years after the crime, chances aren't looking good for Beaulieu, who's plight sounds a little too much like the one facing single mothers waiting on court-ordered support from deadbeat dads. Good luck.

Ever since I heard that Fort Providence RCMP Cpl. Hubert Gardipy will soon be transferring to British Columbia, the whole topic of cops has been on my mind.

You see, I'm a big fan of Cpl. Gardipy and his wife, Christie. Ever since I arrived to do this job, I made it a practice to stop in and see Cpl. Gardipy and his colleagues on each trip to Fort Providence.

In fact, I enjoyed each visit and will always recall how friendly, open and honest he and his colleagues were.

And, contrary to what some naysayers may have to say about the RCMP, never once did they use my visits to provide the local reporter with news of scandalous crimes in town. Not in the least.

They simply answered any questions I might have had and left the rest up to my own editorial judgement.

And, if truth be known, Hubert usually pointed me in the way of good news around the town he served so well.

Fellow Mounties in Fort Liard and Fort Simpson have also been really great to deal with. And, not only have they been fair and upfront, they even went out of their way to help Alison and I along the way.

I've also witnessed officers around here go the extra mile in coaching sports teams, serving as mentors for youth, pioneering school programs, and even losing weight for Christmas charities and generally helping out in a manner that is indeed above and beyond the call of duty.

Let's face it: Mounties have one tough job. We as citizens sleep at night, knowing that our officers are out there on our behalf. And, like it or not, they deal with things that most of us prefer to wish away.

While not all cops are perfect -- as with any profession -- I can honestly say that the officers I've dealt with in the Deh Cho are top-notch.

With this reporter they've been fair, friendly and upfront.

And, on a personal level, they have (once again) gone above and beyond the call of duty to make us feel welcome here.

Anyway, this is a long way of saying, I wish Hubert well in his new job and hope he and Christie enjoy their new life in British Columbia.

You've been great to deal with.

I trust that you'll be scouring donut shops all the way south to find our mutual friend, Scarecop.

Northern policing, like most other things Northern, is quite unlike anything else. And cutting the number of police here for budget reasons, as was announced last week, makes about as much good, common sense as sewing a steel zipper on a parka.

We have a different kind of policing up here, or at least had. The latest round of budget cutbacks will essentially eliminate a quarter of the police officers available to Inuvik and certainly change the way this town and this area is policed. The cuts are going to be felt.

It's not going to be as bad as it currently is in other places -- if your home gets broken into, your valuables stolen and everything else you own trashed, you don't even get a visit from a police officer but rather are invited to phone in a report yourself -- but it's a big step in that direction.

Inuvik is hardly a hotbed for violent crime, the number of crimes last year was down, but there is an effective program of in-school education where officers can be seen working in the schools even on their days off and the force has the resources to run crackdowns on street drunks or drunk drivers or otherwise respond to local concerns.

Now the bureaucrats in the South have applied a formula that essentially tells us that level of service is too good for us. Not that they're exactly telling Inuvik to cut officers, of course, but by presenting a new bottom line on a budget and next to no ways of matching it except by cutting cops, it's the same thing. After all, what else are they going to do to make up the shortfall? Sell the cruisers?

The quality of officers the North gets is generally higher than other places enjoy, if only because Northern officers go through a dual-selection process before they are posted here. In the South, detachments take what they are given by the police college and the personnel office. The North, in contrast, can pick its officers from a lengthy list of those who want to work here, and not just for the money and the benefits but because many police officers, and certainly the good ones, would rather work their own beat up here than be a small cog in a big machine down south.

We may be used to a higher standard here, but it couldn't be any other way: when the nearest backup is a day away, as it is in many isolated Northern communities, it puts a lot more pressure on the officer on the ground there. You want the best you can get, not the best you can afford provided it doesn't cost too much.

Policing is one of the few government services that are rightly seen as essential. Town council is writing a letter to the RCMP brass expressing its displeasure. It's not a lot, but it's all it can do, and for now, it's all residents can do.

Which isn't to say it's not worth doing, especially when the choices are do that or nothing at all.