By Peter Hartcher
The day after Julia Gillard announced her plan to proceed with a carbon tax, Barry O'Farrell sent a message to his parliamentary colleagues in the NSW Liberal Party about how to respond. It was a stark contrast to the message from the federal Liberal leader, Tony Abbott.
We will conduct our campaign, O'Farrell told his troops, in a dignified manner that reflects people's deep-seated concern over the carbon tax. We don't want any Tea Party-type crankiness, said O'Farrell, which may distract from the real issues.
The Tea Party is the angry, populist, sometimes nutty, right-wing American grassroots movement that sprang up to reject Barack Obama's health insurance reform. But for O'Farrell's federal colleagues, it was too late. Tony Abbott had gone public the day before and appealed for exactly that: "I think there will be a people's revolt against this carbon tax," Abbott had told a press conference in Canberra.
"I don't believe it will ever happen because I think the Australian public will be so revolted by this broken promise, by this breach of faith." It was plain to conservative activists that Abbott wanted an Australian Tea Party. This week they gave Abbott his "people's revolt". He didn't enjoy it.
First, the "No Carbon Tax" rally that materialised on the lawn in front of Parliament House on Wednesday was disappointingly small. Even its chief media cheerleader, 2GB host Chris Smith, took the microphone and addressed the crowd as "this little rally''.
Second, it brought Abbott uncomfortably close to some complete nutters. Apart from the abusive and sexist placards that got all the publicity, there were some truly crazy ones: "Great liars are also great magicians. Adolf Hitler," read one placard at the rally he addressed in front of Parliament House on Wednesday.
Another, the last word of which could be seen just behind Abbott's head on some TV shots, read "Say no to Carbon Tax 4 UN/IMF Global Gov = Agenda 21 Genocide." A carbon tax. Genocide?
One of the support groups for the rally says that the science linking smoking and lung cancer is just a conspiracy against the tobacco industry.
To round out the rollcall, Pauline Hanson was there, too.
Third, it put Abbott on the defensive against Labor accusations that he was an extremist.
And there is further embarrassment. One of the pivotal organisers, the man Chris Smith thanked from the podium, the man behind the Consumers and Taxpayers Association, turns out to have a spot of colour in his past.
Progressive grassroots organisation GetUp did some digging into Jacques Laxalle's background: "Court documents show that before putting his efforts into political activities he was an unlicensed builder who was found to have done extremely poor building work and has misled home buyers regarding a sale," GetUp's Simon Sheikh said yesterday.
Some on Abbott's own frontbench are angry at their leader for going out to speak to the rally, accusing him of metaphorically putting the Liberal Party brand on the side of a bus full of conspiracy theorists, nutters and chancers.
One senior Liberal figure said: "We have a genuine grassroots movement opposed to the carbon tax. We don't need an artificial astroturf movement."
But Abbott is no idiot. Why the different responses from Barry O'Farrell and Tony Abbott? For O'Farrell, it was all about voters. The man who today will be elected premier of NSW has talked about many issues, but he has carefully projected a single picture. It's an image of competence and professionalism.
The sort of overarching impression that a candidate creates, reinforced by every statement, every appearance, every ad and even his grooming, is what some campaign strategists have called the "tonal meta-message".
O'Farrell has been seeking to subliminally reassure NSW voters that he is capable of running the state.
His image of competent professionalism is crafted as a deliberate contrast to the Labor band of incompetents and knaves. O'Farrell has carried this off expertly.
Abbott's approach is very different. The task he has set himself is not, in the first instance, to win votes for the Liberal Party. That comes later. Abbott's immediate aim is to bring down the Gillard government by panicking the independent MPs on whom she depends. He only needs to panic one of them. Gillard has the support of the House of Representatives by 76 votes to 74.
If Tony Windsor or Rob Oakeshott or Andrew Wilkie or Greens MP Adam Bandt decide to withdraw support, the Gillard government would fall.
How does Abbott intend to panic them? By creating a mighty racket in the echo chamber of Australian politics. It's very theatrical, a bit like the All Blacks' Maori dance of intimidation, the haka. The din and the grimaces and angry gestures will give them a good fright, show them error of their support for Gillard.
That's why he wanted a people's revolt. So where O'Farrell has pursued a strategy to win over voters, Abbott is trying to intimidate MPs in the court of public theatrics. It's the difference between a plan to win an election and a campaign to foment a political crisis.
Consider the personal attacks. Barry O'Farrell has been unfailingly civil towards Kristina Keneally as he campaigned against her. But Abbott this week cast an extraordinary personal imprecation against Julia Gillard.
Speaking to a meeting of his Coalition parliamentary colleagues on Tuesday, Abbott challenged the Prime Minister's bona fides in attending next month's wedding of Prince William and Kate Middleton at Westminster Abbey.
Abbott predicted that the event would give Gillard a bounce in the opinion polls with these words: "She may not believe in God, the monarchy or marriage but there will be a royal wedding bounce."
This was said in a closed meeting, but the Coalition, like Labor, always sends an authorised spokesman out to brief reporters on these party meetings. Abbott had been rehearsing the line in private before deciding to run with it. It was premeditated and deliberate.
Does he really think a prime minister shouldn't represent the country at events unless they align with his or her own personal life choices? That would mean, for example, that an elected Australian leader could not have any dealings with an authoritarian state like China.
No, it was not a serious point but a snide piece of political bitchery. Mocking Gillard's personal beliefs and choices like this is not only entirely beyond the limits of proper conduct for a party leader.
It also hints at an intolerant disregard for the beliefs of the rest of the Australian people, including the 15 per cent of couples who live in de facto relationships, the 19 per cent who profess no religious belief and the 40 to 50 per cent who want an Australian republic.
And even though the Canberra "No Carbon Tax" rally was uncomfortable for Abbott, he is not stepping back from his crisis campaign. Asked yesterday whether Parliament this week had set a new low for nastiness, Abbott replied that "I think people are entitled to be angry" about Gillard's broken election promise forswearing a carbon tax.
"If the Prime Minister wants to defuse this situation she should say now 'there will be no carbon tax until I have secured a fresh mandate'. If she says that, this situation will be defused and until she says that, every day, I will be out there standing up for the Australian families who have been forgotten by this Prime Minister."
This is Abbott's agenda. He wants to force an early election. He knows Gillard won't really call one of her own accord, and that's why he is targeting the independents.
If the Gillard government were to fall, convention provides that the governor-general would offer the opposition leader the chance to form a government. Abbott would then seek to negotiate with the independents to form a government. If that failed, the country would go to an early election.
At that point, the sentiments Abbott has been fomenting to produce a crisis would become a liability. It's one thing to whip up anger and extremes, and it's quite another to win an election.
The Tea Party approach works in American politics because, in a system of voluntary voting, voters need to be galvanised into getting out to cast a ballot. But in Australia, where everyone must vote, a political party needs to appeal to the moderate centre if it hopes to win power.
Abbott's current strategy puts him in an awkward position. If he succeeds in forcing a crisis on the Gillard government, it will be by political aggression and angry rhetoric. But by succeeding in part one he could well alienate so many moderate voters that he will have disqualified himself from success in part two, winning an election.
At that point, the Liberals would be likely to need O'Farrell-esque reassurance rather than an Abbott insurgency.
Some of Abbott's rivals for the Liberal leadership are counting on it.
Peter Hartcher is the political editor.