Coronavirus: Long, cold stretch doing time in Daniel Andrews’s freezer
Labor people call it Dan’s freezer. It’s where the Victorian Premier puts political allies and associates when he loses faith in them.
Labor people call it Dan’s freezer.
It’s where the Victorian Premier puts political allies and associates — sometimes they’re also former friends — when he loses faith in them or they reach their use-by date. Ministers, backbenchers and party figures often don’t even know they’re in the freezer.
There’s rarely a confrontation. It’s only when the cold sets in that it dawns that they’ve been sidelined and contact dries up; in some cases it stops completely.
Sometimes you can be in the freezer for months, even years.
“He doesn’t confront you. Just freezes you out,” said one Labor figure who served a cold stretch. Jenny Mikakos started feeling the cold some weeks ago.
Despite being the health minister in the midst of the coronavirus pandemic, she appeared alongside the Premier less and less. She briefed caucus less.
Three weeks ago, Labor MPs were openly speculating that the close bond between the pair was icy. But not even the most battle-scarred Labor MPs predicted the brutality of what happened next. As one observed this week: “He has this reputation for showing absolutely no loyalty to anyone.
“Everyone is expendable. He only wants to know you when he’s in trouble. You get the cold shoulder when you are no longer useful to his ambition.”
It’s fair to say that Mikakos did not have a great pandemic, as her department buckled under her direction and the second wave crashed while her people were in charge of hotel quarantine.
But her supporters say she has been treated poorly by Andrews, made the scapegoat for the disastrous quarantine program that has caused close to 800 deaths, infected more than 18,000 people and devastated the state’s economy.
In his evidence to the Coate hotel inquiry, Andrews named Mikakos as the minister accountable to him and parliament for the program during the critical months from April to July.
But she had told the inquiry she did not even know there were security guards at the hotels until two months into the scheme, at least six weeks after the date Andrews said she was accountable.
“She’s a woman of principle and felt it really personally,” one colleague said. “She was very offended.”
When a devastated Mikakos rang Andrews in the hours after he gave evidence, he did not answer the phone. He said subsequently that he missed her call.
But sources said Mikakos was also angry about the emergence that day of footage of her with Jobs Minister Martin Pakula where he talked about the use of private security guards. Ahead of Andrews giving evidence, the footage accompanied stories suggesting she had misled the inquiry.
Sources said Mikakos believed the Premier’s media unit was involved in pushing the story, a claim ridiculed by his supporters, who say her resignation and the way she quit was an overreaction. But colleagues say she felt she was being stitched up by Andrews, a view reinforced by his evidence and the missed phone call.
“When did he actually discuss with her that she was the one in charge of hotel quarantine? We now know what he said to the inquiry, but did he think it would have been useful to tell her at the time?” one close colleague says.
“She thinks she was set up and had no choice (but) to resign. She’s given 21 years of service but he hasn’t even wanted to speak to her. She was so pissed off — that’s why she resigned not just from cabinet but from parliament. She feels dishonoured by it.”
Too many questions
Mikakos isn’t the only long-term Socialist Left ally and (political) friend Andrews has turned on in the past year, the sixth of his premiership and the 10th of his leadership of Labor.
Gavin Jennings was once his closest political mate. When he retired in March, his political obituaries were lined with the convenient but incorrect assumption that the respected left-wing elder was still Andrews’ right-hand man.
Having served on every cabinet committee, steered through the euthanasia policy and held several key portfolios, Jennings was, to the end, a significant cog in government.
But Andrews had apparently tired of Jennings’ attempts to question and debate his decisions and their friendship had soured.
“He asked too many questions that Daniel didn’t like,” one veteran ALP figure said.
While Jennings had too many roles in government to be put in the freezer, Andrews made it clear to his inner sanctum that Jennings was effectively persona non grata.
“It was very obvious that Gavin had pushed back too often,” a cabinet source said. “He saw his role as questioning what was going on but Dan didn’t like it one bit. So it’s safe to say they fell out.”
Cabinet, sources said, had become dominated by the push to build infrastructure at all costs, with too little attention to spending and the lessons of the Cain/Kirner years.
Jennings was one of few people left who was around when Labor crumbled in the early 90s, having been an adviser during the collapse of the Victorian economy.
The effect of Andrews pouring billions into infrastructure was that money was lost elsewhere.
The key to deficiencies in the pandemic response, another source said, was that crucial health programs had been watered down over successive years to fund other initiatives. Hospitals were still well funded but programs such as the public health response (contact tracing, for example), health promotion and even mental health support had suffered.
The dominant cabinet members pushing the massive infrastructure spend were Andrews, Treasurer Tim Pallas and Public Transport Minister Jacinta Allan, all of whom had important roles in the Bracks and Brumby governments.
“There was no point arguing against the agenda because that is what Dan wanted,” a Labor MP said. “We all know that arguing against Dan is a total death sentence.’’
There have been other examples of Andrews’ willingness to destroy his political opponents, even if they sit within his own cabinet. Critics point to the first half of 2016, when he forced out emergency services minister Jane Garrett and just about every Country Fire Authority executive who stood up to him over his gold-plated pay and power deal with United Firefighters Union boss, Peter Marshall.
So determined was Andrews to win the internal power struggle that he was later accused of undermining Bill Shorten’s federal election campaign. Privately, Shorten tells people that Andrews’ scorched-earth war over the CFA helped cost him that election.
The Premier’s command-and-control leadership style is the defining political power play of the coronavirus pandemic in Victoria, perhaps even Australia.
He runs everything. He has appeared for 92 days straight for press conferences that can last 90 minutes and centralised the operation around a small number of ministers in a crisis cabinet of eight. He’s the only leader in the country to have done this.
While Scott Morrison’s government has savaged the Victorian response, Andrews has been very careful in his language about the Prime Minister.
Victorian Labor MPs have discussed concerns that Morrison may punish Victoria financially.
“He (Andrews) actually sounds scared of him. The view is Morrison is a vindictive bastard and he’s got the money,” a senior MP said.
Party machine man
There are few clues in Andrews’ early political career that point to the ruthless and electorally successful political leader we see in 2020, for — despite all his woes — opinion polls suggest the public is embracing his leadership despite the policy and political failures.
This Victorian factor may bewilder some from other states but there appears to be a deep feeling that Andrews should be given every chance to succeed in the fight against the virus, even if in parliament there is open speculation about his future.
Andrews’ first speech to parliament, delivered in February 2003 at the age of just 31, doesn’t soar with ambition. He paid tribute to the electorate of Mulgrave, some local identities, (highly influential) wife Cath and six-month-old son Noah (now completing the VCE).
But the speech is instructive because it serves as a reminder of his narrow professional experience outside politics.
By his own measure, Andrews confirms himself as a product of the Victorian ALP, a classic party machine man, who rose to be assistant state secretary before entering parliament in 2002.
“My time in the Labor Party has been dominated by the machinery of politics, the contest between competing agendas and the running of campaigns,’’ he said. “This is a background that brings a passion all of its own.”
In the Victorian ALP, you don’t get to become assistant state secretary unless you can be ruthless and in his government there is virtually no dissent because people are too scared to confront Andrews. He was comfortable having virtually total control of the caucus despite the left not having the numbers.
“It’s completely and utterly the Dan show. Everything goes through him. Nothing happens without him knowing,” an MP said.
Caucus members have complained that Andrews does not show them enough attention, while the use of the crisis cabinet during the pandemic has subverted the influence of all but the inner sanctum on the frontbench.
Whatever criticism is levelled at Andrews, few who have dealt with him underestimate his political acumen or work ethic.
A former staffer spoke of his “immense capacity”. “He has a large brain and quickly and thoroughly gets across a brief,” he said. “He remembers names and numbers. It’s like he has a photographic memory.
“After a one-on-one with him, a member of the public will leave feeling heard and understood.”
But the same ex-staffer said that, behind closed doors, “he doesn’t suffer fools very well”.
“If he has a position, you have to make a very good argument to change his mind. He has no time for people who are deliberately trying to get in the way of good work, or going slow for no good reason.”
Most current MPs, former MPs and party figures would only offer their insights into Andrews on the condition of anonymity.
But former federal Labor MP David Feeney was happy to go on the record. As the state secretary of the Victorian ALP 20 years ago, Feeney was Andrews’ boss.
“He struck me as someone who was diligent, meticulous … they were good skills and strengths for the job he had,” Feeney said.
Despite the factional rivalry between the pair (Feeney of the right, Andrews of the left), Feeney trusted him.
“I’ve never been stuck in the fridge. I have always found him to be a very warm, a very engaging and a very loyal person,” he said. “He was good at working in a collegiate environment. I relied on him, and trusted him, and was not disappointed.”
Feeney said he never detected overt ambition in Andrews, now 48, saying he was more a carefully calculating and cautious young man on the move.
“I never thought of him as someone who was unusually ambitious. Obviously in that universe there is plenty of ambition rolling around on the deck — he didn’t stand out as being more ambitious than others.”
Andrews was swept into office as the member for Mulgrave in the November 2002 Steve Bracks landslide. He was immediately appointed parliamentary secretary for health. Four years later, he was health minister.
‘Dull, not flamboyant’
This week, one influential figure in the Bracks government remembered the young Andrews this way: “From day one, he always showed that he was competent and capable. But he was pretty dull, nerdish and bookish. There was certainly nothing flamboyant about him.
“He quickly demonstrated he was across the details of his role as parly sec. We never had to clean up after him, or get him out of any trouble. He was cautious. And he worked hard.
“He was a friendly and happy bloke to have around the government. That’s not to say he wasn’t ambitious. Even then, it was clear he wanted to go places.
“And he knew how to get on the right side of the right people. He always did what was asked of him.”
Andrews’ closest supporters are insisting that he will lead the government to the 2022 election. “And he will win it,” one key supporter told The Weekend Australian.
Allan is the left-wing minister most likely to succeed Andrews and has his backing, multiple sources said. Pallas and Deputy Premier James Merlino would not get the backing of the broad right faction, which has the numbers in caucus. Pallas is being tipped by some to leave parliament at the next election.
The right is firming in its view that it will back Pakula, despite him being embroiled in the hotel quarantine debacle, while sections of the left want to support Attorney-General Jill Hennessy, another long term “ally” of the Premier’s.
‘The best thing going’
For all this talk, party figures are keen to highlight that Andrews remains the government’s best electoral asset.
“We don’t want to get rid of him. He is the best thing we have got going,” one Labor figure says.
Even his critics acknowledge that Victorians are deeply invested in wanting Andrews to lead them out of the lockdown. “They not only want Daniel Andrews to be successful, they are literally willing him to be successful.” one Labor source said.
And a Labor warhorse offered this perspective: “Inevitably, a leader has to manage disappointments and difficult moments. Politics is very tough on friendships. To be successful, that is sadly part of the deal. And I’m sure he has had to make difficult decisions about people he cares about. That’s life in a big city.”
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