It has been more than three months since former prime minister Malcolm Turnbull resigned from parliament, supposedly on the basis he was retiring from politics. Yet hardly a day goes by without him dominating the news for the wrong reasons, at least as far as the government is concerned. This week was no exception.
“At the risk of being criticised for speaking about politics, which apparently former prime ministers aren’t allowed to do, according to some of the media — I strongly encourage my colleagues to work together to revive the national energy guarantee,” declared Turnbull in a speech at the Smart Energy Summit in Sydney on Tuesday. “It was a vital piece of economic policy and it had strong support, none stronger than that of the current Prime Minister and the current Treasurer.” Ouch.
This was the same former prime minister who appeared on ABC’s Q&A last month and announced “I’m not going to be, you know, running a commentary on my successor … I’m obviously not in the parliament seeking to undermine him or overthrow him like Kevin [Rudd] and Tony Abbott have done… I’m out of partisan politics … My days as an active political participant have come to an end.”
On top of this The Australian reported this week Turnbull has had several conversations with Opposition Leader Bill Shorten since he was ousted, and that NEG was reportedly raised, which Labor is in favour of reviving. Presumably that is his idea of political retirement and not undermining his successor. We can add that to what is becoming a long list. Just to name a few: Turnbull’s demanding that Home Affairs Minister Peter Dutton should be referred to the High Court to determine his eligibility to sit in parliament; lobbying NSW Liberals to defy Morrison’s request that the state executive re-endorse embattled MP Craig Kelly; publicly calling for Morrison to go to election in March next year despite the government’s preference for May; and all but putting the kybosh on Morrison’s proposal to move the Australian embassy in Israel from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem, saying “There is no question, were that move to occur, it would be met with a very negative reaction in Indonesia. This is after all the largest Muslim-majority country in the world.”
Little over 12 months ago a hapless Turnbull, feeling the strain of the High Court’s ruling that then Deputy Prime Minister Barnaby Joyce and then Nationals Deputy Leader Fiona Nash were ineligible to sit in parliament, denied that his government was in chaos. “I have never had more fun in my life,” he said in a pitiful attempt to appear buoyant. Yet today he could make that declaration hand on heart. Turnbull’s angry assertion that his removal was “madness” has become a self-fulfilling prophecy.
You get the feeling in the last few months we’ve been subjected to endless episodes of the Australian version of the American sitcom Malcolm in the Middle. For those unacquainted with that show, it was about a young boy in a large but dysfunctional family. “His intelligence, as well as feelings of not fitting in, and a large ego fuelled by a cruel streak of snarkiness cause numerous problems for him over the course of the series,” reads its Wiki entry. Talk about uncanny. In hindsight the analogy is unwarranted. The young Malcolm played by Frankie Muniz was quite likeable as opposed to coldly narcissistic.
Which brings me to the older Malcolm. If ever there was a bitter man desperately in need of a hobby, it is him. Come to think of it, given Turnbull’s sardonic (and ironic) reference to not wanting to be a “miserable ghost” like Abbott and Rudd, and seeing it is December, what could be more fitting than him starring in his own production of Charles Dickens’s A Christmas Carol?
As you recall the central character of that tale was Ebenezer Scrooge, an old man who has made a fortune as a banker but is a miser. On one hand that is at odds with Turnbull the philanthropist, but in terms of lack of empathy and indifference to how others are affected by his actions, the likeness is remarkable.
You may wonder who should play Scrooge’s long-suffering and impoverished but loyal employee Bob Cratchit, an uncomplaining man who patiently bares the cruel jibes of his master. Yoo-hoo, Scott Morrison, have you got a moment? Just as Scrooge resentfully permits Cratchit to have Christmas Day off, could Turnbull reluctantly decide to spare the Morrison from criticism for at least one day of the year?
“I’ll retire to Bedlam,” mutters Turnbull with disgust as he grants Morrison’s request, “rather than suffer a merry Christmas.”
That Christmas Eve, as a cranky Turnbull brooded alone at the fireplace, he heard a mournful sound. To his disbelief a phantom appeared before him. “What do you want with me”, he asked in terror. “Who are you?”
“Ask me who I was,” replied the ghost.
“Who were you then?”
“In life I was your partner, Kerry Packer,” said the ghost. “I am here tonight to warn you that you have yet a chance,” he adds, hinting at the prospect of redemption but filling Turnbull with fear as he tells him he will be visited by three spirits.
That night the Ghost of Christmas Past appears in the form of Alistair Mackerras, a former headmaster of Sydney Grammar School who knew the young Turnbull when the latter was a boarder. “When he bossed people around he did it in an abrasive way people didn’t like,” says Mackerras to an invisible audience, as Turnbull looks away in shame. “He makes it clear that he thinks people are perfect fools and haven’t got a brain in their head - that’s not how to make friends and influence people.”
As Mackerras fades away, another spirit appears. “I am the Ghost of Christmas Present,” it says. To Turnbull’s surprise and in the words of Dickens, “Its dark brown curls were long and free; free as its genial face, its sparkling eye, its open hand, its cheery voice, its unconstrained demeanour, and its joyful air.”
“Doctor Brendan Nelson,” cried an incredulous Turnbull as he fell to his knees at the sight of the Opposition Leader he had so brutally dispatched in 2008. “I beg you spare me from retribution!”
“I have no interest in revenge, Malcolm,” said the spirit affably. “In fact, you inadvertently did me a favour by knifing me in the back. Like you, I never was a successful Opposition Leader. Unlike you, I realised I still had much to offer the public after politics. It may sound ironic, but you could say this ghost got himself a life. I suggest you do the same,” he adds as he disappears.
Hours later, another phantom appears. Unlike the other three it is silent and shrouded. “Am I in the presence of the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come” asks Turnbull, hesitatingly. “What is my fate?” Suddenly they were no longer at Turnbull’s Point Piper home, but inside ABC head office at Ultimo. Beckoning, the phantom pointed towards a studio door, above which appears in neon lights ‘The Drum’.
Turnbull looks through the door window at the panellists. Among them is the face of a wizened old man, his expression cast in a permanent sneer that borders on hatred. It is misery and contempt personified.
Turnbull recoils in horror. “That is not me!” He then relaxes, and the old cocksure demeanour returns. “You have the wrong former Liberal Opposition Leader. That is Doctor John Hewson. He is so consumed with hatred he does not realise the ABC regards him as a useful fool, the token Liberal, and a talking marionette whom they can rely on to hurl the usual anti-Coalition barbs,” he snorts. “Fancy being reduced to that level, and for what? Petty revenge and a cab voucher. You do not need a psychiatrist to determine that ultimately it is himself whom he secretly loathes. It has been nearly a quarter of a century since he was deposed as leader, and he still cannot accept that. Pathetic!”
The phantom makes no sound, but instead points to a digital date display in the studio. It is December 6, 2042. Suddenly Turnbull understands. “Spirit!”, he cries shuddering from head to foot. “I see, I see. The case of this unhappy man might be my own. My life tends that way now. Merciful heaven, what is this!”
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You know the ending. The old miser seizes the chance to redeem himself, and one of his first acts that Christmas Day is to purchase a prize turkey for the loyal Cratchit, who he had treated with such contempt. I wonder how that would turn out in Turnbull’s case were he to turn up at Kirribilli House with a gift for a man he continues to malign, undermine and scorn?
Morrison would leave Turnbull in no doubt about what he could do with his prize turkey.
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