Rockliff's premiership tied to proposed stadium, but his is not the first to push a contentious project

Tasmania is no stranger to controversial projects.

The island state gained worldwide attention in the early 1980s when calls to save the wild Franklin River in the state's south-west from damming intensified.

And before the Franklin, there was Lake Pedder, the flooding of which — for another Hydro project — still weighs heavily in the hearts of those who tried to save it.

Almost three decades later, in the mid-noughties, tens of thousands marched in protest over timber company Gunns' proposed pulp mill.

Now, once again, Tasmania has found itself in a situation where the state government has tied itself up with big business and is pushing a major project despite large opposition.

And the community is again split.

While polling can be unreliable at times, it has been fairly evident that the majority of Tasmanians oppose the proposed Macquarie Point stadium, but there are also many who are staunchly supportive.

However, few can argue against the fact that the vast majority of the community want what the $1.13 billion stadium brings with it — Tasmania's very own AFL and AFLW teams.

And where previous controversial developments wanted to destroy something wild and beautiful, the premier's oft-repeated description of Macquarie Point as a "wasteland" is not too far from the truth.

A snap of Macquarie Point is not exactly going to evoke the same emotional reaction as Peter Dombovskis' iconic photo of Rock Island Bend. In fact, it might leave mainlanders a little perplexed as to what all the fuss is about.

But it is not the land itself the anti-stadium crowd is trying to save.

It is unbroken views and the heritage — including a war memorial — that surrounds Macquarie Point. History, that in their eyes, will be dwarfed by the stadium.

And, of course, it is the budget.

Tasmania's finances are in a dire state, and for some, throwing money at a stadium is possibly one of the worst decisions the government can make.

It is something that is playing heavily on the minds of Legislative Councillors as they prepare to make the final decision on the stadium next week.

But for Premier Jeremy Rockliff, this is about far more than football and a stadium. 

It is about changing Tasmania for the better.

"In communities of disadvantage, I want to ensure and see the opportunity in a young person's eyes — that glimmer of hope and that glimmer of aspiration — because the team that they love is accessible just down the road or further afield, for the rest of the state," he told parliament during a debate to approve the stadium.

So adamant is the premier in his view that he has tied himself and his premiership to the stadium, almost as closely as the team is tied.

Although the recent election result suggests, he is far too popular to go down with it.

And yet despite his conviction, the Rockliff government has only been half successful in prosecuting the case for a new stadium.

Going through a planning process — which admittedly the government was forced into by two former Liberal MPs — only to decide that it was the process that was wrong, not the project, was never going to win them many fans.

Not to mention that their counterargument to the Tasmanian Planning Commission's concerns that the costs largely outweighed the benefits was that many of the benefits simply could not be quantified.

A little reminiscent of The Castle's "it's the vibe".

Even the government's line that the state's funding for the stadium is a drop in the ocean when it comes to the health budget has failed to cut through.

Maybe that is because, despite the $3.5 billion plus it pumps into health each year, services are struggling while the state's debt is set to hit $10 billion by 2028.

Or perhaps it is because that as much as Tasmanians want their own AFL and AFLW teams, they cannot forget that it was their own government that helped to tie the dream of the team to a costly new stadium.

While the AFL taskforce's 2019 report suggested a stadium would be necessary down the track, it was then-premier Peter Gutwein in 2022 who announced it as part of his State of the State address — back then it was a $750 million stadium at Regatta Point.

The announcement served as a positive talking point for a government that was at the time dealing with two ministerial resignations within weeks of each other.

Just a month after he'd opened the can of worms that would become the stadium debate, Mr Gutwein resigned, leaving Mr Rockliff with his legacy.

By that stage, the AFL had latched onto the idea of a new stadium, which in their view was (and is) necessary to ensure the success of a new team. 

They just wanted it in a different location — Macquarie Point. 

They got their way.

It was on a visit to Tassie only months after Mr Rockliff had assumed the top job that then-AFL boss Gillon McLachlan made it clear — the 19th licence was contingent on a new stadium.

Tasmanians would soon become used to the phrase "no stadium, no team".

There are those who think the team has come too far already to die.

Maybe they are right, or maybe the AFL would relish an opportunity to demonstrate what happens to those who defy it.

Is it worth the gamble? It depends on what you value more.

Here's the thing though — the stadium idea has been around for almost four years now and there have been two elections in that time.

Mr Rockliff has gone to both with a pro-stadium policy, and he has won, albeit he has remained in minority.

Sure, in the 2025 election, the Labor opposition was in lock-step. 

But that was not the case in 2024 when the party vowed to try to renegotiate the deal.

Like the stadium or not, Tasmanians have got what they voted for — a premier who is devoted to his cause.

And if all goes well, it will be his legacy — he will be the premier who dared, who pushed through despite the odds.

Tasmanians will look back at the AFL and AFLW teams in decades to come, and some will remember the premier who helped the dream become a reality.

And if it fails? 

Well, he remains too popular for it to take him down, but it will dent him — a permanent blemish on his time as leader. 

A reminder of the one thing he threw everything at and still could not achieve.

But if it gets up and goes wrong, as some fear, that is a legacy no one wants to live with.

As for the stadium itself — no matter the outcome and like the controversial projects before it — it won't be lost to history.

So, how will Tasmanians view it in years to come?

Will it be the transformative economic enabler with an effect as great, or greater than, Mona?

Or the white elephant that sent a state further into debt and forced tough economic decisions?

And if it never eventuates, will the state look back in relief, the way many view the defeated pulp mill or the damming of the Franklin.

Or will Tasmanians forever wonder what could've been? 

A lost opportunity, in a state that so often seems resistant to change.