This was published 4 years ago
Morrison, the political animal who missed the political opportunity to lead
The Prime Minister's actions during the bushfire crisis jar with what we’ve come to expect from our politicians in moments of national peril and collective grief.
In the euphoric week after last May’s election "miracle", one of the more experienced members of Scott Morrison’s government likened the result to Paul Keating’s victory for the true believers in 1993. “It reminded some of us of Fightback,” he said. An unpopular government had been returned against expectations because voters feared the opposition’s radical alternative.
The senior Liberal shared his insights with colleagues to deliver a quiet warning. Don’t confuse an electoral reprieve for a mandate to govern as you please. Keating had alienated voters immediately after his win with a horror budget and then a policy lurch to the left, which prepared the ground for a landslide defeat in 1996. John Howard, the beneficiary of Keating’s hubris, is likely to have reinforced the message for Morrison. Remain humble and don’t take re-election for granted.
The fascinating part of these internal discussions was the expectation that the Prime Minister would use his authority to bring the government back to the middle ground. One policy area stood out – the environment. There was a strong view that the Coalition could not risk another campaign without a credible climate change policy. In fact, more Liberal seats might have fallen in Sydney and Melbourne in 2019 if Labor had not left itself so open to a scare campaign on its taxation and spending programs. Many Coalition MPs believe otherwise: that the government’s success at the ballot box last year meant a majority of Australians had rejected the global-warming hoax for all time.
But Morrison was assumed to be in the former camp, a realist not an ideologue, who understood the need to reset the government’s approach before the next election. That assessment seems too generous now.
As Morrison is buffeted by rolling waves of local and international criticism over his handling of the bushfire crisis, he should be kicking himself for not connecting the post-election advice for moderation from his own side with the open letter sent to him by former emergency chiefs a month beforehand, in April. That letter expressed alarm at the lack of action on climate change at the national level, and pleaded for an end to the cycle of funding cuts for fire services.
“In the last year we’ve seen unseasonal fires in Tasmania, Victoria, NSW, Queensland and Western Australia, floods and twin cyclones in parts of northern Australia, longer bushfire danger periods and fires burning in rainforests,” the statement, signed by 23 representatives from each state and territory, said. “Rising greenhouse gas pollution from the burning of coal, oil and gas is worsening extreme weather and putting people in danger.”
For a politician schooled in the Abbott era of making Labor responsible for every single asylum seeker death at sea, it is surprising that Morrison would not take out some insurance ahead of this summer’s bushfire season by committing extra resources, to be tapped in the event of a catastrophe.
This remains the most bewildering aspect of the crisis. Morrison is the political animal who kept missing the political opportunity to rise above politics and lead. The trip to Hawaii, the self-pitying apology tour of media outlets when he was forced to cut it short, the blame-shifting to the states and the awkward, passive-aggressive exchanges with victims of devastated towns appeared to be the shrugs of a man who thought this should be someone else’s problem. It jars with what we’ve come to expect from our politicians in moments of national peril and collective grief.
Morrison has a ferocious work ethic and a Kevin Rudd-like propensity to micro-manage. But he felt no immediate compulsion to intervene while the country burnt because he didn’t see the early start, and epic scale of the fires, or the smoke choking Sydney and Canberra as a cause for his concern. Even if it was, what could he do? The responsibility for fighting fires belonged to the states. That was his argument before he went to Hawaii in mid-December. If they asked for help, he’d provide it; a sly formula that suggested the states were the complacent party, not the Commonwealth. On his return, he offered a buck-passing slogan for the ages: “I don’t hold a hose, mate.” He seemed genuinely perplexed and a little pissed off that people were asking him to do more.
As he absorbs the lessons of the past few weeks, the Prime Minister should reacquaint himself with the leadership examples of John Howard and Paul Keating.
Gun laws and native title had been state matters. They were left in the too-hard basket during the economic reform era of the 1980s, in part because the vested interests opposed to reform could swing elections at both the state and federal level. State Labor governments in Victoria and NSW had tried to toughen gun laws in response to a series of massacres but pulled back when farmers and recreation shooters marched on their parliaments.
Bob Hawke, meanwhile, had promised land rights for Indigenous Australians but withdrew his offer after Western Australian Labor premier Brian Burke threatened to campaign against the federal government. Hawke told me that was one of his greatest regrets of his public life. He should have called Burke’s bluff.
The window for national action did not close with those setbacks. The question was whether leaders and their parties were prepared to step up again when circumstances changed.
For Keating, the 1992 High Court judgment in the Mabo case presented both an opportunity and an existential threat to his leadership. Unemployment was heading towards 11 per cent, and Labor was expected to lose the next election. But Keating was determined to act and, in December that year, just four months out from the election, he delivered his Redfern Speech. He was thinking ahead in the unlikely event that his government was returned. If he lost, the speech would be a rallying call to future generations. If he won, it was the mandate for turning the Mabo judgment into Commonwealth legislation.
For Howard, the Port Arthur massacre in 1996 presented the opportunity to act on a lifelong belief. Many on his side were surprised that he felt this way. They shouldn’t have been because a year beforehand, as opposition leader, he used a headland speech on the role of government to declare that “every effort should be made to limit the carrying of guns in Australia”.
No one paid attention then. But like the Redfern Speech, it demonstrated a deep engagement with an issue before the window for reform was re-opened by the next massacre. It meant that Howard spoke with a Keating-like clarity of conviction when he called for uniform gun laws.
A common thread between these two examples was the ability of Howard and Keating to cross the normal language barriers of politics to reveal their true idealistic selves. This was a critical element in inspiring colleagues to continue the fight when vested interests pushed back, or the party base had second thoughts.
For Keating, Gareth Evans, the government leader in the Senate, and Bill Kelty, the secretary of the ACTU, were invaluable lieutenants. Evans steered the legislation through a fractious Senate, while Kelty kept recalcitrant unions in line.
For Howard, National Party leader Tim Fischer and his deputy John Anderson, played the equivalent role in keeping regional Australia on side.
The present generation of politicians underestimates the degree of difficulty of those reforms. I’ve spoken to a number who are simultaneously in awe of the achievement and inclined to play it down because in today’s media environment they can’t imagine land being given to Indigenous Australians or guns being taken off white Australians.
Mabo, in particular, faced a perfect storm of opposition. The Coalition refused to negotiate, forcing Labor to deal with a Senate that had just dismantled the budget. State Labor and Coalition governments were running scare campaigns, warning without evidence that native title could apply in suburban backyards, and talkback radio seemed to be giving voice to every racist in the country. And yet both sides are grateful that Keating prevailed.
The reform era didn’t end because the internet made people angry. It ended because the governments of Rudd, Gillard, Abbott, Turnbull and Morrison lacked the belief to mount and sustain an argument.
Morrison has only known a federal Parliament where success was measured in legislation blocked or repealed. He has only known a polarised media. He was able to navigate both dystopias to claim the prime ministership before the public really knew him. He won the election by turning it into a referendum on his opponent, Bill Shorten.
He entered the bushfire crisis with less baggage than he appreciated. The public was willing to receive him as their saviour, a role every leader I’ve covered - with the possible exception of Julia Gillard - assumed had been assigned to them at birth. Morrison certainly doesn’t lack confidence and his energetic campaign persona suggests he enjoys the company of his fellow Australians.
But he wasted the best part of a month resisting the call. When he finally accepted his burden, his public language remained painfully inadequate. He lacked the clarity of conviction that came so easily to Howard, Keating and Hawke in previous crises because he hadn’t given the issue enough thought beforehand to recognise a tipping point. He had to be hounded into doing his job, and humiliated again until he found his voice.
Last Sunday’s announcement of a national bushfire recovery agency with initial funding of $2 billion, backed up by the deployment of the military, is the first tangible sign that the Prime Minister is engaged. Tellingly, he is now prepared to leave the budget in deficit to fund the relief effort.
In a parallel universe, Morrison delivered that statement a month earlier, acknowledging that climate change had elevated the risk that bushfires posed to lives and property. He could have said he had his fingers crossed that the fires then under way could be contained, but the best advice was that the weather would not be on our side. At that point, he could have taken a short, well-earned family holiday in Australia, remaining close enough to dash back to work on the days of greatest fire danger.
Howard made a revealing intervention on Morrison’s behalf last Sunday. He said the Prime Minister didn’t get enough credit for his efforts since returning from Hawaii. “I don’t think he’s interested in the next opinion poll, if you want my opinion,” Howard told reporter Chris Barrett. “I think what he wants to do now is make certain all of the responses are the right ones. In a federation like Australia, working closely with the states is the most important requirement a federal government has.”
The edge in that final observation was not lost on Liberals. Morrison has been sniping at the NSW Coalition government of Gladys Berijiklian and Howard wanted it to stop.
The damage to Morrison’s standing has been compounded by the global attention. It usually doesn’t matter what the rest of the world thinks because we are too small to bother with. But the fires have triggered something in the international media not seen since September 11, 2001. The apocalyptic images of a mountain of flames pushing an entire township onto the beach, the orange skies over capitals, the military being called to evacuate people, and the charred remains of Australian wildlife are on high rotation. Only this time it isn’t the same clip being repeated of planes smashing into the Twin Towers. Each day brings a fresh nightmare streamed live into a world already anxious about climate change.
Morrison didn’t just miss his moment to lead Australians, his prevarications and obfuscations created a new narrative of a spoilt rich country led by a man who didn’t care if the planet burnt. This is no doubt unfair, but Morrison would have noticed that the global news cycle can elevate a prime minister just as easily as it can humiliate them. New Zealand's Jacinda Ardern sits at one end of the spectrum for her handling of the Christchurch massacre, while Morrison risks being plonked at the other.
Australia has not been on the receiving end of a global pile on like this before. The last time the international community saw us as a delinquent was in the 1970s when we were being advised to deregulate our economy. But that debate was restricted to OECD reports and gentle sledges between officials at international forums. And we were not the only country suffering stagflation.
Morrison could be forgiven for thinking he is being unfairly blamed for the sins of his predecessors. Australia was playing climate change policy spoiler before his arrival in Parliament in 2007. The blame starts with Howard’s refusal to sign the Kyoto Protocol. Yet no global leader or journalist with a global platform today would remember this. Howard is only known to them by his response to the Port Arthur massacre in 1996. He was that rare breed of conservative leader who convinced his own supporters to give up their guns.
Morrison would not have appreciated the intervention this week of former foreign affairs minister Julie Bishop, who called on the government to become an international role model of climate change action. “If a country like Australia fails to show leadership, we can hardly blame other nations for not likewise showing leadership in this area,” she said on Monday.
In the past, the big Australian reforms were framed to impress global opinion. The Hawke-Keating government always had one eye on the international money markets when they were floating the dollar or slashing government spending and tariffs. Keating wanted Mabo to help build a bridge to Asia.
If Morrison is to make something of the bushfire crisis, he has to convince the rest of the world that Australia is serious about climate change.