PM’s fly in the ointment: it’s Kevin Rudd’s time to zip

It was a Friday morning when NZ Prime Minister John Key stopped by the bathroom at Christchurch airport.

Then opposition frontbencher Malcolm Turnbull with then prime minister Kevin Rudd in Parliament House in 2010. Picture: Ray Strange

It was a chilly Friday morning two weeks ago when New Zealand Prime Minister John Key stopped by the bathroom at Christchurch airport. When his phone rang, Key took the call from Malcolm Turnbull. In the rush, Key forgot to zip up his trousers.

The incident with all its ­attendant hilarity was captured on New Zealand morning radio show Si & Gary several days later as one of the DJs, Simon Barnett, revealed that he, too, had been at the airport and had seen Key in a state of undress.

It was the Australian Prime Minister’s fault, Key declared: “I was talking to Malcolm Turnbull about Helen Clark,” he said. “It was an incident caused by the Aussies.”

The airport trouser episode unfolded on July 22, exactly a week before Turnbull would call a Sydney press conference to ­declare he had blocked Kevin Rudd in his quest to ­become secretary-general of the United Nations. Turnbull’s allies had declared the government had better things to do than think about Rudd and the UN. Yet Turnbull had time to speak to Key while votes from the Australian election were still being counted.

Had Turnbull nominated Rudd, he would have gone on to compete against Clark from New Zealand. Key had endorsed the former prime minister on April 4, the same day Rudd had formally requested Turnbull nominate him to join the UN race. Where Clark had received ­enthusiastic hometown barracking, Rudd was met with defenestration.

Three days after his airport phone call with Turnbull, Key took to the New Zealand airwaves, mocking Rudd personally. On Monday, July 25, he told a broadcaster, “If any person wants to be in the race … you’ve got to get ­either your host country preferably, or a country, to nominate you. At the moment, he (Rudd) doesn’t have a country nominating him.” Sinking in the boot he said: “A hell of a lot of Australians believe Clark would beat Rudd.”

Yet in the week before his July 22 talks with Turnbull, Key had seemed polite about the UN race.

On July 19, Key acknowledged earlier talks with Turnbull and Tony Abbott (who had opposed Rudd). He told media in New Zealand that it would be difficult for Australians to back Clark with Rudd in the mix. “If a country has a former prime minister that goes to the government and asks the government to support them … it can be a difficult position because in the end, most people want to see their own nationals do well,’’ he said.

Turnbull made it clear on July 29 that he saw Rudd only through a dark lens. In a media announcement notable for its vituperative tinge, Turnbull declared Rudd was “unsuitable” to be nominated as secretary-general.

Not content with stating simply that the government would not support Rudd, Turnbull heaped on public humiliation in the knowledge his words would be heard across the theatre of international affairs. If he had wanted not only to thwart Rudd but to damage him as well, he could not have done better.

The scene was different back in 2010. The two had crossed swords, issued pithy denunciations, ­be­come policy companions over ­climate change and finally forged a degree of friendly alliance. Turnbull had been opposition leader until December 9, 2009, when he was rolled by Abbott by one vote. It was Turnbull’s conviction on ­climate change that had lost him the support of his own colleagues. Rudd had been the prime minister who had described climate change as the greatest moral challenge of our time.

This common ground had not stopped Turnbull claiming Rudd had misled parliament in a damaging mid-2009 scandal known as “utegate” — an attempt to link Rudd to allegations of doing special favours for a car dealer mate. At its centre was an email, later ­revealed as a fake, created by senior Treasury official Godwin Grech. Turnbull had called Rudd’s suitability as prime minister into question, calling for him to resign. When the email was revealed as fake, Rudd called on Turnbull to resign.

By early 2010, Turnbull was a dejected figure, rolled by the muscular Right in his party for supporting a deal on Rudd’s emissions trading scheme and with new prime minister Abbott dumping the policy and excluding Turnbull from the ministry.

Turnbull was on the brink of quitting politics when Rudd reached out, inviting him for a cup of tea at Kirribilli House. The pair, joined at the hip over climate change but ferocious across the parliamentary chamber, sat outside. Rudd had a proposal in general terms. If it was any help to Turnbull, once he had left the parliament, perhaps there could be a position created for him — as a ­climate change envoy or ambassador for Australia.

A source from Rudd’s office this week said that Rudd had been concerned about Turnbull’s wellbeing. “He offered for Mr Turnbull’s consideration, a position representing Australia as a special envoy or ambassador of climate change.”

Turnbull’s office yesterday said the Prime Minister had no comment. It was understood that he could recall neither the occasion nor the offer.

On April 6, 2010, Turnbull ­announced he would quit politics. Speaking to the media on the day, he described a phone call he had just received from Rudd offering commiserations as both “kind” and “gracious”.

A month later after soundings with friends and supporters and the intervention of John Howard, Turnbull announced he would ­remain in parliament after all.

Turnbull had his own gracious moment upon Rudd’s departure from politics after losing the September 2013 federal election. In a valedictory speech Turnbull ­declared: “The resignation of a former prime minister from the parliament … is a day that all of us here will remember … you have had a leading and decisive role for so many years. You have been a leader in Australia; a leader of Australia; a decisive leader.”

A little over a year later, in early January 2015, Rudd was invited to lunch at the Turnbulls’ home — a pleasant interlude according to Rudd. Afterwards, he says Turnbull told him on the way out to the car that he thought Australia would be mad not to back Rudd for the UN job.

Rudd was well under way, in hopes as well as deeds. Later that day he met Foreign Minister Julie Bishop at the Sheraton on the Park in Sydney where they, too, discussed Rudd’s prospects. This was followed by a catch-up ­between Rudd and Turnbull in April 2015 at Rudd’s home in New York, a brownstone near the UN headquarters. Again the event was said to be convivial with plenty of talk about Australian politics and no hint of animosity.

Turnbull, according to Rudd, repeated his view the government would be mad not to back him.

The grounds upon which Turnbull would ultimately cast Rudd into the wilderness had not yet been laid. Back then, 18 months ago, the two could afford a social relationship.

Turnbull would not become prime minister for another five months — rolling Abbott as Rudd had once been rolled by Julia ­Gillard, before he in turn, rolled her. These two men would ultimately personify the New Australian political paradigm for prime ministers: one eye at all times on the rear mirror; roll or be rolled.

Last December, with Turnbull now Prime Minister, the first contested meeting occurred between the two. Rudd would insist this week that Turnbull did not discourage him from pursuing the top job at the UN in any way when they met on December 23 in Turnbull’s office, a meeting running for as long as 45 minutes.

Rudd insists that Turnbull took notes of whom he should lobby on Rudd’s behalf on the international circuit and that they discussed the need for Turnbull to take Rudd’s candidature to cabinet to avoid perceptions of a “captain’s pick”, a phrase identified with Abbott’s controversial knighthood for the Queen’s husband, Prince Philip.

Rudd has insisted he has never freelanced and he had the assurance at all times of Turnbull and Bishop — that he was campaigning with their full knowledge and support.

On April 2 this year, Bishop in New York publicly acknowledged to journalists for the first time that Rudd was campaigning. Choosing her words carefully, she said: “It seems that Mr Rudd has visited a number of people and expressed an interest.”

Two days later, on April 4, Clark in New Zealand announced she was a candidate. On the same day, Rudd formally wrote to Turnbull requesting Australia provide him with a letter of nomination as required under new UN rules. Rudd’s letter was copied to Bishop.

“You have indicated that you would take this to Cabinet after I had notified you formally of my intention to be a candidate,” Rudd wrote. “I am conscious of the fact you have many competing cabinet priorities.” He closed saying: “Thank you for the support you have offered me in our discussions on my candidature. If I succeed, I believe I can do Australia proud.”

From that moment, Turnbull moved the dial to radio silence. Rudd’s request was not revealed to the public. And as the Prime Minister prepared to run dead, attack dogs leapt into the fray. By a startling coincidence, no sooner had Rudd’s formal request arrived than a leading light of the Right, Peter Dutton, thrashed Rudd with ridicule. “Kevin, mate, cobber, please stop driving these people crazy — do what other people do in retirement and play golf or buy a caravan.”

It was clear immediately that regardless of the respect for Rudd in international diplomatic circles, and appointments over the years to a string of prestigious foreign policy positions and boards, his opponents in Australia were ready to do battle in the Australian way: kill, maim and destroy. Turnbull ultimately become the leader of this charge.

By the start of May this year Rudd had been waiting for nearly a month for a response from Turnbull to his request for a nomination.

The election was in the air, the budget was days away. Rudd ­resolved to fly to Australia to see Turnbull, face to face. He called Turnbull’s office to let them know. He was at JFK Airport when Turnbull rang.

Whatever had gone before, this time there was no support, no “mad not to support you”, no “at one with Julie Bishop”. This time there was a cold and frosty Turnbull and there was a round ­denunciation of Rudd and his prospects.

The cosy cups of tea were at an end and Turnbull had decided that Rudd’s interpersonal skills and his qualifications meant that he was entirely unsuited to the position of secretary-general of the UN. At the end of their argument, Rudd was stunned. Turnbull had been withering. The conversation degenerated into a heated exchange.

Within days Bishop would negotiate a compromise. Turnbull, she told Rudd, had agreed to take the matter to cabinet after the election. On May 8, less than a week later, Turnbull called the election for July 2. It would provide Turnbull with little respite from the terrible six months that had preceded it — as his standing in the polls crashed and his honeymoon evaporated.

Losing swathes of seats, Turnbull remained on a knife-edge as Prime Minister for days. The last thing he needed was a Rudd candidacy drawing out the red teeth of the conservatives in the party. But they would soon be ­baying.

On July 18, Bishop announced that Rudd had put his hat in the ring, not mentioning that it had been in the ring for nearly four months. And with that the dogs came. Had Rudd paid careful ­attention, he would have seen that it was not just Dutton attacking, not just Scott Morrison flexing his muscles, but Turnbull acolytes: juniors such as the Queensland senator James McGrath.

McGrath was the canary in the coal mine. A core member of the Turnbull group that overthrew Abbott, McGrath’s attacks on Rudd (“he couldn’t operate a toaster”) signalled that Turnbull’s personal dogs had been let off the leash.

By the time Turnbull had led the matter through a long cabinet discussion on July 28, and then allocated the decision to himself as a captain’s pick, Rudd was finished.

Rumours abounded later that Turnbull had consulted John Howard at the death-knock. Howard had been beaten by Rudd in 2007, losing not only government, but his seat.

An old-school politician and a fierce tribal fighter, Howard’s was a voice Turnbull listened to. Asked yesterday whether he had discussed the Rudd candidacy with Turnbull in the week before Turnbull blocked Rudd, Howard, through his office replied: “I speak to the Prime Minister from time to time on a variety of issues. Beyond that I have no comment.”

On July 29, Rudd flew to Sydney to attempt one last time to wrestle things back.

When he landed in Sydney, Turnbull called him and again Rudd took the bad news at an airport. It was over and Turnbull had no words of kindness as he ­throttled Rudd’s hopes.

If the two had danced around each other for years, rich men, into climate change, neither a natural fit in his party, sharing private talks about enemies and others, it was over now. The next phase in a long war had commenced.