Political capital squandered

Gladys Berejiklian’s “head prefect of NSW” persona has served the Premier well. Conscientious to the point of being a workaholic, as she was as head girl of her public secondary school in North Ryde more than 30 years ago, Ms Berejiklian, 50, retains a schoolgirl demeanour. She bops about, even in parliament, and nods and giggles. Her expressive face shows how much she dislikes criticism. Even on Tuesday last week, when she should have been self-isolating after a COVID-19 test, she touched a colleague on the arm as she swanned into the Legislative Assembly chamber to vote. Being nerdish, a bit quaint but competent economically and in getting on top of the coronavirus after the Ruby Princess debacle has strengthened Ms Berejiklian’s position. Among premiers, she has been the voice of reason and decency about opening state borders.

Few other politicians would have survived the revelations of her secret relationship with disgraced former Wagga Wagga MP Daryl Maguire. Imagine if Victorian Premier Daniel Andrews were in the same boat. Ms Berejiklian’s poor romantic choice garnered sympathy and empathy as much as incredulity and dismay. Then came the scandal of her senior policy adviser, Sarah Lau, shredding and deleting notes about the allocation of $250m worth of grants under the Stronger Communities Fund before last year’s state election. Claims of pork barrelling tarnished Ms Berejiklian’s image some more, but not irretrievably.

What has really made her frontbench colleagues look askance is a more blatant and clear-cut lapse of judgment and ethics. Voters, or her partyroom, ultimately will decide whether it was acceptable for her office to tell what amounts to a big lie on her behalf and then try to cover it up with threats when she was sprung by The Australian’s Yoni Bashan. Voters — or the partyroom — also will decide what it reveals about Ms Berejiklian’s character and integrity. She’s seen as a stickler for rules and correct process — she makes her displeasure clear when colleagues fail to social distance — but her willingness to bend the rules herself when she thinks no one is looking is now clear. That includes the COVID-19 rules that have kept NSW safe and its economy open. She also has broken a cynical political rule: “Don’t get caught.” When political personas are pricked and found to be froth and bubble, they are usually in deep trouble.

After pursuing a lead for six days amid stonewalling from the Premier’s office, Bashan scooped the Macquarie Street press pack on Monday. He reported that Ms Berejiklian attended parliament last week while waiting for COVID-19 test results. It was a breach of health guidelines that require NSW residents to self-isolate until they are cleared. Ms Berejiklian’s office scrambled desperately, using threats and warnings to disrupt publication of the article. Sean Berry, the Premier’s media director, advised Bashan in writing to get his two sources on the record so they could “share the grief” if he published “wildly inaccurate” claims.

The story was accurate. But Berry’s behaviour, journalists from other organisations say, is not new.

Readers can judge for themselves whether Ms Berejiklian, who is notoriously “hands on” about sweating the small stuff, approved of Berry’s high-handed approach. Sky News reporter Andrew Clennell once wrote about a staff member who left her office after being asked by the Premier to draft a letter to a Year 11 student three times. On Tuesday, following Bashan’s story, team Berejiklian squirmed and fumed. And she fessed up that she had been in her office after having the test and regretted not closing the door for 90 minutes to two hours. She held meetings in that time. “I’ve got to cop that and I deserve it, and I appreciate why people would raise issues about that,” she said. The Australian also confirmed she did not seek a “pair”, which would have allowed her to be absent from parliament while awaiting her results. After recent events, the public is entitled to wonder how well they ever knew “our Gladys”, whose website is simply called gladys.com.au. Asked on Tuesday if she would change COVID guidelines, she told the ABC: “I would never do that.” Complacency was her “biggest fear”. Not always. Trust, once broken, is hard to restore.