Code red - we're in trouble

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This was published 13 years ago

Code red - we're in trouble

There is no style manual for political assassinations, especially when it comes to sitting Labor prime ministers.

By Michael Gordon

THERE is no style manual for political assassinations, especially when it comes to sitting Labor prime ministers. The one lesson from history — the slaying of Bob Hawke in 1991 — is that the faster it happens, and the less warning, the better.

The demise of Hawke was a drawn-out and painful, two-stage affair. A well-crafted letter was written by party secretary Bob Hogg, telling Hawke why he should go. Ministers made heart-felt appeals, but the then prime minister rejected all arguments and prolonged his, and Labor's, agony.

The political death of Kevin Rudd was as quick as it was, for most people, unexpected. All of the drama that was played out over six bruising months in the case of Hawke and Keating was compressed into 24 hours. The intriguing, unanswered question is whether it was Rudd, or the influence of Labor's private polling, that sealed his fate on Wednesday.

Disaffection with the leader was not new. It had been building since the back-down on the emissions trading scheme, along with the view that Rudd's cabinet had become dysfunctional. Most troubling was the fall in Labor's primary vote and Rudd's approval ratings in Labor's private polling.

Several influential figures from Victoria — Bill Shorten, Michael Danby and David Feeney from the Right and Kim Carr from the Left among them — had reached the view that the government had, to borrow Julia Gillard's phrase, "lost its way". The sentiment was shared by figures in the New South Wales Right of the party and reinforced by the polling. But, until Wednesday, there was not an organised campaign, and it counted for nought because, even that morning, the plotters lacked a candidate.

Several senior figures were clinging to the hope that the situation was not irretrievable: that Rudd would change and quickly resolve the debate with the miners over the planned resource rent tax — a debate the government had comprehensively lost, despite the compelling case for tax reform in this area. Others were simply despondent and resigned to defeat. As one expressed it: "People had stopped listening to Kevin Rudd, and the idea that a bloke can change himself into someone else is not a plan for recovery."

It was then that a story appeared on the front page of The Sydney Morning Herald reporting that Rudd's long-serving chief of staff, Alister Jordan, had been talking to MPs to gauge the prime minister's level of support. High in the story was the unsourced assertion that Rudd "does not necessarily fully trust the public assurances of his deputy, Julia Gillard, that she is not interested in the leadership". Gillard was angry at the suggestion and made this plain to Rudd. He denied his office was behind the assertion.

Later that morning, Rudd went to Gillard's office and pressed her on whether she was wavering in her loyalty. The two agreed to meet again later in the day, by which time a cross-section of senior figures who were aware of the polling had left Gillard in no doubt that the mood within the party was for change.

Neither Rudd nor Gillard has revealed what was said in the succession of discussions, but one thing is abundantly clear: Gillard's disposition changed during the course of the day. As one insider speculates: "I think Kevin's discussion convinced her somehow that she had to run. It wasn't the fact that people were organising numbers — it was the fact that he was blinkered to the problems."

If this is so, the irony is breathtaking. The man accused of governing by spin could not convince his closest colleague that he understood the gravity of the situation facing Labor and what needed to be done.

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Once Gillard's disposition changed, it was all over for Rudd. The nation was poised to have its first female prime minister, a 48-year-old from Altona who was born in Wales and emerged from the left wing of the Victorian ALP.

The only question was whether Rudd would contest a ballot and be totally humiliated, or bow out of the contest with as much dignity as he could muster — the course that was in the party's best interests, as well as his own.

Had it come in other circumstances, the Gillard ascension would have been an occasion to celebrate a milestone in the nation's history, and reflect on a personal journey that really began after John and Moira Gillard decided to emigrate to somewhere with a warmer climate and settled, almost by accident, in Adelaide.

But this was a time for action, not reflection, and Gillard's performance since her elevation has been virtually flawless, so much so that many of those who supported the change already feel vindicated — and at least some Liberals are wary. The immediate reaction of one was just three words: "We're in trouble."

If the talkback reaction has been mixed, the message in today's special Nielsen poll is unambiguous: while some of the electorate are appalled that a popularly elected prime minister could be treated this way, the prevailing sentiment is, at the very least, prepared to give Gillard a go.

Within an hour of being elected unopposed, Gillard was facing the media and answering some hard questions about cutting down the man who returned Labor to power after a dozen years of opposition (a man who, admittedly, had no qualms about cutting down his predecessor in Kim Beazley). The message was one of measured humility. "There will be some days I delight you; there may be some days I disappoint you," she said. "On every day, I will be working my absolute hardest for you."

Then, after the swearing-in and a brief hug from partner Tim Mathieson, there was question time; her first head-to-head debate with her regular sparring partner in Tony Abbott; more meetings; an interview with another well-known redhead, Kerry O'Brien; and a private rallying speech to colleagues at an end-of-session party.

Finally, over a takeaway meal at her Canberra flat with Mathieson and a few friends, there was time for a modest toast.

The mood at the caucus gathering that night appears to broadly reflect the reaction of Labor supporters elsewhere: relief and enthusiasm on the one hand, but on the other, sadness and grief for a leader deposed. Rudd may not have been liked, but few took pleasure in his demise.

Social researcher Hugh Mackay called the end of Rudd early and believes Gillard has every chance of being endorsed by the people when the election is called. "The great strength of Gillard is that she's not magic," Mackay said yesterday.

"She's not a figure who inspires a euphoric emotional investment the way Rudd did. She's much more level, much more feet-on-the-ground: a combination of tough and warm, which he was not. And I presume that she's an organised, competent manager in a way that he was not.

"I think in the marginals that voted for Labor last time — where there has been such a collapse and where people had started to doubt that they'd done the right thing — Gillard's huge contribution will be that those people will say, 'Now that she's saying they're back on track, we didn't make a mistake after all.' In the Labor heartland, there will be just a huge sense of relief because this is someone they recognise as one of their own."

Rod Cameron, the pollster who worked on more than 50 state and federal Labor campaigns, is more measured. "I'm not one who thought that Rudd was gone, even though his credibility was vastly reduced. I think it would have been a very close-run thing, but has this improved Labor's chances? Unquestionably.

"She's had a dream start, but I guess her problem will be trying minimise the extent to which the way she got the leadership becomes an issue, and deal with the real policy problems. In terms of appeal, leadership and credibility, she is superb."

Rudd's CV suggested a capacity to manage that did not materialise in the office — whether it came to his colleagues or the bureaucracy. When, for instance. he told public servants concerned about the long hours to get used to it, he alienated those who by career choice wanted to serve.

Gillard will not make the same mistake. Put it down to her temperament, or her upbringing, or the fact that she is a female who has constantly succeeded in male-dominated domains, or being a redhead (only joking), she has never been weighed down by ego or self-importance. "I actually think that the best discipline is obtained when people work together and work together well," she explained yesterday.

"I think that holds true from the top echelons of the national government to local football teams. The best way of making sure that everybody works together is to make sure that they all see a place in the team — that they are there being treated respectfully, their ideas appreciated, their labours understood. And that is the approach that I will take."

Wisely, the new Prime Minister's recovery strategy does not include an immediate, concerted effort to visit marginal seats. "We need to get the government back on track, [and] to do that we need to step-by-step take a series of decisions, and that is best done while I am here in Canberra."

The immediate priority is to resolve the mining tax and, while the early response to her pulling of government ads is encouraging, the hard calls still have to be made. Real negotiation will mean compromise, compromise will mean less revenue, and less revenue will mean cutting back on promised spending on company tax cuts, superannuation or infrastructure.

Two other issues Gillard identified for early attention are climate change and asylum seekers — though there has been very little detail. She says people want to hear "what we are doing to manage our borders" and promises that she will be addressing this concern in the future.

If this means moving policy closer to the deterrent-based approach of the Coalition, she risks offending those who backed Labor when it promised a more humane approach.

In the short term, there are two personnel issues to attend to: what to do about Kevin Rudd, who says he will re-contest his Queensland seat of Griffith, and Lindsay Tanner, who announced on Thursday he will not re-contest his seat of Melbourne.

No one who listened to Tanner's speech in Parliament would doubt that his motives are genuinely personal, and totally unrelated to Rudd's demise, but his loss is hard to underestimate. Along with Gillard, he has been the government's best performer and his departure will make it even harder to fend off the challenge in that seat from the Greens. Tanner has offered to remain Finance Minister until the election and Gillard would be wise to keep him in that position.

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Rudd's intention to remain in politics is baffling but, if he is serious, two options beckon: moving him to his old speciality in foreign affairs (and moving Stephen Smith into Gillard's old portfolios, education and workplace relations) or doing something really bold and assigning him the task of building a consensus around climate change.

All of these challenges will be faced in the context of the bigger battle with that familiar foe, Tony Abbott — a battle that, if the early bounce in the polls continues, will reach its climax sooner rather than later.

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