This was published 1 year ago
Opinion
I admired Gladys too, but her downfall is her own fault
Carmel Tebbutt
Former NSW deputy premierDuring one of the seemingly endless pandemic lockdowns, queuing for coffee in a local cafe, I overheard two young Gen Z women talking about Gladys Berejiklian. They were discussing what colour her jacket would be at the day’s press conference, what this would signify and how much they admired her. Sydney’s inner west is not known for embracing conservative politicians but I was not surprised by their regard for Berejiklian.
As a former health minister, I know how tough the pandemic was, and despite being from the other side of politics I also admired her leadership and strength during the dark days of COVID-19.
I wonder what these two young women now think, after the release of the Independent Commission Against Corruption report finding Berejiklian engaged in serious corrupt conduct and breached the public trust. Has it put them off going into politics? Maybe, like me, they feel a certain disappointment that the political career of a woman with so many firsts – first woman to be transport minister, treasurer and popularly elected premier – would end this way.
Berejiklian was smart and strategic enough to navigate herself to the top of the Liberal Party and yet, through an almost unfathomable error, lost it all. She did the wrong thing and the community has a right to feel let down and angry at the breach of trust and her failure to uphold the high standards of probity required of political leaders.
The disclosure requirements for members of parliament are essential for the functioning of democracy. Any person in public office must manage conflicts of interest and the public has a right to know about relationships which may impact on a politician’s decision-making.
The issue is not, as Berejiklian said in her evidence to the ICAC, that her personal feelings were “completely separate to what I did in terms of executing my responsibilities”. It was not for her to make that call, but rather disclose that she was in a relationship with another MP and to take action to avoid being involved in decisions where she had a conflict of interest.
At one level I have no interest in raking over the personal travails of Berejiklian and her relationship with Daryl Maguire. It is impossible not to feel extraordinary sympathy as this very private woman’s life is revealed for all to hear, see and talk about – it must be excruciating. However, it was her failure to disclose that personal relationship, as per the clear requirements of the Ministerial Code of Conduct, that led to the ICAC investigation and its damming findings. So her private life cannot be left out of trying to understand how the former premier could fall so spectacularly.
And this is a story we need to understand. The paucity of female leaders in Australia means we need to learn from the success and flaws of those we have had.
Berejiklian’s life story is well known, growing up in a conservative Armenian family, where much of the community life centred around church and school. Her early experiences were as an outsider and she later embraced this as a strength. She was willing to back her own political sentiments even when out of step with the more conservative members of her party. As a Young Liberal activist, she organised an anti-racism rally against Pauline Hanson’s comments, she was a supporter of same-sex marriage, and she took on the hard right in her own party to allow the debate on abortion reform to go ahead in 2017. She was known for her formidable work ethic and being competent.
How did someone so capable, who built her reputation on being squeaky clean, who would not let a journalist pay for lunch in case it compromised her, make such a huge mistake in not declaring a relationship with a fellow MP?
Ultimately, we can only draw our own conclusion about why Gladys Berejiklian behaved as she did. There is no disputing the ICAC findings but, as a former politician, I also understand how intrusive public life can be and how difficult the intersection between personal and political life is, particularly if you are a private person and your personal life doesn’t fit the expected image of husband, wife and a couple of kids.
The former premier had an unerring belief in herself and her integrity – even after all that was uncovered by the ICAC proceedings, she still said if she had her time again she would not have disclosed the relationship. Berejiklian felt she had given everything to her job as premier and no one doubts how hard she worked. But any politician who starts to believe their own rhetoric is on dangerous ground. The loneliness and isolation of power can result in leaders feeling they should not be judged by the standards of others, that they alone understand the job, its pressures and what is right and wrong.
People make mistakes, they have feet of clay, politicians included. But this should not negate their achievements. It would be a tragedy if Berejiklian’s downfall might put young woman off a career in politics because, despite her descent from grace, there is much to learn from her journey. I hope that for any young woman thinking about a life in politics, the career of Gladys Berejiklian demonstrates that with hard work and determination, you can rise to the top with an understated, non-traditional and more relatable style of leadership.
But despite her position and her responsibility, she was not honest about her personal life. So I also hope Berejiklian’s story is a reminder that what matters in politics, as in life, is honesty and authenticity, to be comfortable in your own skin and strong enough to own who you are.
Carmel Tebbutt is a former Labor deputy premier of NSW.