PM playing loyalty card deals Albo back into game

Parading a weakness or a potentially fatal flaw to an opponent is never a good idea. When Mathias Cormann, of all people, followed the course set by Scott Morrison, of all people, to question Anthony Albanese’s loyalties, the Labor leader responded initially by nipping at his opponents’ ankles like a fox terrier.

After Cormann and Morrison asked whose side Albanese was on, suggesting he was supporting terrorism and opposing Australian farmers, Albanese was within his rights, in light of recent revelations, to hark back to Morrison’s own words and actions not even a year ago to question the Prime Minister’s own concepts of loyalty and trust.

At first, Albanese tamely described the accusations as a sign of an immature government playing politics, something Morrison is usually good at and has been deploying ruthlessly with wedge after wedge against Labor to fill the vacuum while he works out his agenda for the remainder of this term. Labor had left itself open to an extent by offering up token resistance to government legislation (tax cuts, drought aid, foreign fighters), then capitulating.

Government MPs were flabbergasted when Labor chose to focus its parliamentary attack on Julie Bishop and Christopher Pyne, but there was some method to this apparent madness.

The surprise tactic on the first real sitting day of the new parliament touched tangentially on the simmering enmities and rivalries at the top of the government, hinting at a clever psychological ploy to force the hard men of the Liberal conservative flank to defend two people they despised.

That was part of the motive, but mainly it was forced by the Senate inquiry into the new career paths of the former cabinet ministers and the discovery by Labor, on Google, of Bishop’s video for Palladium.

The side benefits were all the delicious ironies that flowed, particularly as Bishop and Pyne were so disillusioned by last year’s events and the behaviour of their colleagues that they quit parliament.

During the days of madness Bishop had described Cormann to colleagues as “the most disloyal man”, then later to me as the ultimate seducer and betrayer. Cormann, as well as publicly pledging loyalty to Malcolm Turnbull one day then defecting to Peter Dutton the next, had sat through a long lunch not all that long before, agreeing with one of his closest friends, Michael Keenan, who had called Morrison an “absolute a…hole”. That week, intimates reported that Cormann was sickened by the thought of Morrison as prime minister. He did whatever he could to stop him getting there. Now Cormann is, once again, loyally standing beside Prime Minister Morrison, declaring that Pyne and Bishop have done nothing wrong and Albanese is the one who needs to demonstrate fidelity.

Morrison ascended to the leadership thanks to the assiduous plotting, planning and praying of himself and his small band of devotees; however, he couldn’t have got there without Pyne. Pyne helped corral the moderates, sacrificed Bishop to block Cormann’s very good friend Dutton from the prime ministership and gave Morrison the numbers to squish Turnbull. To say Morrison owes Pyne is an understatement.

Morrison has sought to dismiss the coup as ancient history or as a muppet show, a bit of light entertainment, not worth worrying about. Reviewing my book Plots and Prayers, Paul Williams, senior lecturer in politics and journalism at Griffith University’s school of humanities, languages and social sciences, described what happened as “arguably the most traumatic leadership spill in modern Australian politics”.

Despite the stiff competition, that seemed a fair call. Not only are there still wounds, it would be foolish for anyone to believe the duelling sword-wielders have suddenly become great mates. There is no law or code that says the prime minister and his cabinet ministers have to be friends, but government works better if they can respect as well as trust one another.

While some Coalition MPs report a better mood in the ranks post-election, they say one of the greatest threats to the government is the culture of public disagreement with policies; the constant broadcasting of alternative views by backbenchers.

Morrison, never comfortable with being defied, felt compelled to deliver another lecture on how he expected his backbenchers to behave at Tuesday’s joint party meeting, after a procession of MPs had suggested the government abandon its promise to lift compulsory employer superannuation contributions to 12 per cent. He did it nicely, saying not only did it hurt the government, it was disrespectful to colleagues, but the message drawn by most of his audience was: behave or else. A number of backbenchers, figuring they had nothing to lose or nothing to gain by staying silent, continued to speak out. Liberal MPs have always treasured their right to express a different view. No edict from any leader will ever stop that.

Morrison’s other clear message to MPs was that they could count on the government facing a fight for its life at the next election and that while Labor might look like a mess now, at some point it would get its act together.

He was a prophet. Soon after, Labor zeroed in on Energy Minister Angus Taylor, regarded as one of the government’s weak links, a view definitely not shared by Taylor. In fact not so long ago his staff were boasting he would be opposition leader after the election.

After overplaying the whole “whose side are you on?” stuff, Morrison then sounded petulant when he complained Labor had not asked him a single question in parliament, suggesting Labor MPs should rectify it. They obliged, but Albanese also moved from the ankles to the jugular, accusing Morrison of divisive nonsense by suggesting one side of parliament was more against terrorism than the other. Albanese referred to the irony of Morrison asking “whose side are you on?” after standing next to Turnbull, declaring he was on his side, while his supporters voted for Dutton to undermine Turnbull.

“We won’t be taking lessons from this turncoat,” Albanese said.

Like I said, parading your weak spots is never a good idea.