Malcolm Turnbull: old rivals have been fighting for decades

Turnbull and Abbott have been like two old bulls, circling each other for years.

Malcolm Turnbull, The Australian’s Paul Kelly and Tony Abbott during a 1993 debate on Australia becoming a republic.

When Malcolm Turnbull finally told Tony Abbott face-to-face that the leadership challenge was on, it was more than the end for an ­unpopular prime minister.

It was more than the much-awaited moment for a talented, super-ambitious politician who had talked about running the country since his youth.

This was the climax of a political dance lasting decades.

Turnbull and Abbott have been like two old bulls, circling each other for years. At times they have put up with one another’s existence when on opposing sides.

They have worked prag­mati­c­ally on the same team, too, as they did during earlier lives as Howard government ministers, and since.

Both, however, have a record of epic public jousts and subterranean undermining of each other at critical points in their careers.

Whether it was Abbott whispering in the ears of Liberal Party preselectors in a failed attempt to block Turnbull’s entry to par­liament in 2004, or what Turnbull’s detractors condemn as his campaign of destabilisation to oust ­Abbott as prime minister, the relationship has always been ­uneasy.

Who is Malcolm Turnbull?

Out of the two, it is probably Abbott who has been the more generous in public about his rival.

For a Four Corners profile on Turnbull in August 2008 that did not have his co-operation when he ran for the Liberal leadership first time around against Brendan Nelson, the grab quotes from Abbott were certainly effusive.

Turnbull, declared Abbott, was “one of those people who seems destined for great things”.

He also praised Turnbull as a “clear thinker”, and “a determined and focused human being” with “a certain star quality”. According to Abbott, Turnbull at his best could be “a remarkably charming and genial companion”.

The ABC’s Sarah Ferguson shot back: “And what about at his worst?”

“Well, at his worst Malcolm can be a bit of a volcano,” Abbott ­replied.

The high praise, volcano remark notwithstanding, was no ­impediment to Abbott’s decision to tear down Turnbull little more than a year later in December 2009.

He effectively ended Turnbull’s short-lived first incarnation as Liberal leader by resigning from the shadow cabinet and joining the Right of the party’s angry revolt over the then opposition leader’s endorsement of Kevin Rudd’s emissions trading scheme. In an ensuing leadership ballot, Abbott defeated Turnbull by one vote.

Turnbull announced he would quit politics but changed his mind within two months. He was urged to stay on by others, but his overweening ambition was surely at work, too: when Abbott eventually stumbled, as Turnbull probably sensed would happen, he could lunge again.

It might have taken longer than anticipated for a man known for his impatience, living through ­Abbott’s disciplined years as opposition leader and two years in the top job, but the nation’s most popular politician eventually overcame the thorough dislike of him among large sections in his own party as Abbott’s poor standing with voters showed no sign of ­improving.

Turnbull and Abbott are very different men, at first glance. Turnbull is at ease in the spotlight. He is an impressive advocate, charming and articulate on his feet. Abbott has suffered because of his reputation for gaffes and slogans, even if he is engaging and likeable in personal conversation.

Turnbull is rich and has had vast experience outside politics in business, banking and the law; the bulk of Abbott’s career has been spent as a political operative or elected politician, and he is not wealthy.

Turnbull is liberal and progressive; Abbott is an unabashed social conservative whose values owe much to his Catholic faith. Abbott is the avid cyclist and surf lifesaver in Speedos; it is rare to see Turnbull the non-athlete without his shirt.

Yet there are similarities. Both were wooed by the Labor Party but concluded their futures lay with the Liberals. Both are Rhodes scholars with undergraduate ­degrees from Sydney University. Both were once journalists with The Bulletin; Abbott also worked for The Australian. Both are widely regarded as brash and confident, driven by an enormous self-belief bordering at times on arrogance.

In his recent autobiographical book When We Were Young and Foolish, The Australian’s foreign editor, Greg Sheridan, explained how his old friend Abbott first met Turnbull at a conference of the Australian Union of Students in Melbourne in 1978.

Turnbull, then a journalist with The Bulletin, had a “jovial” conversation with Abbott the student activist. Turnbull described Abbott’s political style as “exuberant” but used “boisterous” for his story.

“While he can win support from students because of the shocking state of affairs in AUS, he cannot take the next step because of his conservative moral views,” Turnbull wrote.

As Sheridan notes, the pair did not really get to know each other again until the debate over ­whether Australia should become a republic. Meanwhile Abbott ­flirted with becoming a priest, while Turnbull made a lot of money.

When the pair did come face-to-face again, it was as fierce opponents in 1993 when Turnbull started a seven-year extra-­curricular stretch as head of the Australian Republican Movement, and Abbott began his enduring commitment to opposing a change to the status quo with his short stint as executive director of Australians for a Constitutional Monarchy.

In 1999, Turnbull, still not in parliament, and Abbott, a Liberal MP with five years on his belt, were very prominent advocates on ­opposite sides when the matter was put to a referendum and lost.

While Abbott had John Howard firmly on side for the republican debate, Howard bore no grudges against Turnbull, even after the outspoken pro-republican claimed the then prime minister would be known for only one thing: breaking the nation’s heart.

When Turnbull successfully ousted Peter King in a preselection ballot for the Sydney eastern suburbs seat of Wentworth in 2004, Howard backed him. Loyal to the low-profile King and perhaps keen to keep the competition out, ­Abbott allegedly urged preselectors to reject the usurper.

Both men prospered under Howard, but the veneer cracked after Turnbull’s miscalculation over the Godwin Grech affair, and party disunity over climate change policy. Now one bull is out of the ring. Abbott may be bitterly dis­appointed but he is unlikely to follow Kevin Rudd’s lead by locking horns again.