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| ISBN-13: | 9781742698199 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Allen & Unwin Pty., Limited |
| Publication date: | 03/01/2012 |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| File size: | 2 MB |
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From Carr to Keneally
Labor in Office in NSW 1995â"2011
By David Clune, Rodney Smith
Allen & Unwin
Copyright © 2012 David Clune and Rodney SmithAll rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-74269-819-9
CHAPTER 1
THE LABOR PARTY
Rodney Cavalier
During the sixteen years of Labor in government, 1995–2011, the Australian Labor Party (ALP) ceased to be a creative contributor to the policy-making of the government bearing its name. The members of the Labor Party ceased to play a role in the governance of their own party.
Bill McKell, Labor leader 1939–47 and premier 1941–47, had created a model of governance that would deliver government for 49 of the next 67 years — and that remained relevant even when Labor was not in government. In 2008, the McKell model came to an end, its pieces broken and lost. The party has come to treat the leader as godhead — an approach to statecraft eerily similar to conceptions of monarchy in medieval times. The leader is infallible, to be obeyed in all matters; liege service in the court of the king is the sole means of advancement; connection to the connected is the only game worth pursuing; dolts prosper while ever they are loyal. Loyalty is absolute, whatever the grievances, whatever the injustice. Loyalty remains absolute until the moment of assassination, after which loyalty transfers absolutely and the processes continue as before. Under the godhead model, the purpose of the ALP is to become an instrument of the leader's will as translated by those who operate the party's central machinery. When the controllers of the ruling faction act in concord with the parliamentary leader, their power is irresistible. In such circumstances, paramount power will override the rules and practices of the party to achieve the outcome enunciated.
None of this seemed at all likely in 1995. The destruction of democracy was incremental until 2002–03 when, in the space of just a few months, the machine's leadership asserted absolute control over candidate selection and succeeded absolutely against a feeble sham of resistance. Thereafter, the assault on local democracy was unresisted. The use of paramount power entrenched the lieges of the machine. In the space of two elections, Caucus independence became a fond memory, as did a parliamentary party capable of scrutiny and self-criticism. Independence disappeared because of an aggregate of (1) members of parliament (MPs) imposed by central authority, often against the express opposition of an overwhelming majority of the local ALP membership, (2) MPs protected from preselection and (3) Members of the Legislative Council, all of whom are dependent on factional anointment. The rude democratic culture of the party subsided into a culture of entitlement. A Caucus culture of robust criticism of the leadership group and a fierce protection of Caucus independence occasioned leadership stability over six decades and nine changes of leader. The loss of independence and obeisance to the godhead has resulted in unending instability, caverns of treachery and a loss of respect for the office of leader.
THE BEGINNING
Bob Carr had been leader for seven years when he accepted the commission to become premier. He had been an MP for eleven years, including service as a minister in the final years of the Wran government and the entire life of the Unsworth government. He had the immense advantage of being a participant in both good government and poor.
Carr enjoyed a limited sense of the power within his potential. He had not sought to be leader and actively sought alternatives to a fate he openly dreaded. Very tentatively, he explored his influence. He was resigned to coping with whatever MPs the local memberships preselected and the shadows the Caucus elected. That was, after all, the tradition with which he had grown up. The 1991 poll was the great comeback. After being written off, Carr achieved a hung parliament. Vested with new authority, he exercised it with hesitation and care by appealing to the established leaders of the factions to purge those who had disappointed him and to provide him with talent that he identified. The factions delivered what he sought. Carr was not a gladhander; he was not going to work the bar or visit offices. He relied on his performance on the floor of the House — which was outstanding from the outset — and getting out and about in the electorate where MPs could see for themselves how he was going down with their constituents. He attended ALP functions. Knowing Labor history, he knew how to touch emotional buttons.
RELATIONS WITH HEAD OFFICE
Relations were always cordial. At the time of his accession, the party's general secretary was Stephen Loosley who, more than anyone, decided that only Carr could be leader and set about making it happen. Loosley departed for the Senate in 1990. The key machine operative in the Carr era was John Della Bosca (general secretary 1990–99), who played the vital role in the difficult, very close election that brought Labor to power as well as in its two triumphant re-elections. Della Bosca devised very different strategies for 1991 and 1995. The same structure pursued different messages: 1991 running against Greiner over taxes and charges; 1995 against the 'comic misfits' in the ministry.
Carr recalled that he was at his lowest point in 1995 when he arrived at the Parramatta studios of 2KY to cut commercials for television. He was tired; the shooting took hours; he put headphones on and was fielding phone calls. The camera moved around while a stationary Carr explained to a listener how his government was going to solve problems in policy areas. Research showed how strongly he came over on radio. The electorate was beginning to entertain the idea of Carr as an alternative premier. The commercials highlighted his strength: his voice offering assurance. Carr remembered the Sunday night, six nights out from polling day, when the commercials began to screen. He retreated from the lounge room — he could not bear it; however, the quality was perfect. Della Bosca had put aside the funds for this final assault. The amount of advertising in the final days was massive: it shifted votes and won the campaign — by the narrowest of margins.
Carr had known Della Bosca since his teenage years. In him he observed someone who could read polls, able to see beyond the top line — a rare gift. Unlike the Liberal Party at the time, in which Nick Greiner had created a separate campaign arm, relations within the ALP were collegial. Carr's staff worked seamlessly with head office. Part of the reason was that Carr dealt exclusively with the general secretary every fortnight, working off an agenda for over an hour. The sessions included frank assessments on how the government was performing. Carr recalled that the meetings became more valuable in the second term. Della Bosca did not step over the line. He certainly did not tell Carr who should be made a minister.
GROWING IN POWER
After victory, Carr moved against shadow ministers he thought were non-performers in favour of the likes of Craig Knowles and Carl Scully. Those whom Carr elevated from the backbench, leapfrogging those who had done the hard yards of opposition, owed their principal loyalty to Carr. In 1999, more of his team came on. Carr personally purged the non-performing Pam Allan and Gabrielle Harrison.
Carr's method was elementary. He set about seducing the ambitious so that the pre-existing loyalties and leadership groups were placed at a discount. Carr was relying upon (1) the prestige of his office, which he was intending to deploy across the Caucus, (2) the suasion of the Right's leadership group and (3) the muscle of head office. Pulling off a ticket of the premier's choice made Carr a far more dominant premier than Wran ever sought to be.
The character of Caucus altered fundamentally at the 2003 general election. The then general secretary (Eric Roozendaal, 1999–2004) had sought and gained unlimited powers to impose candidates under the feint of changing the gender balance. Roozendaal supervised impositions in four safe seats where the imposed candidates had next to no base and could not have won a contested ballot. Each was in her own way a disaster for the ALP — one facing trial, one under investigation by the Independent Commission Against Corruption (ICAC). The selection of Kristina Keneally over another woman, Deirdre Grusovin, the sitting member for Heffron, was a scabrous exercise. The only claims of these women over a legion of similar Labor women were that they had impressed Roozendaal. Independent thinking was not a virtue. Carr acquiesced. His interest was in finding seats for Frank Sartor and Linda Burney, an Aboriginal woman.
The Caucus that assembled after the 2003 general election was a gathering of guided missiles. In such a Caucus, Carr had his way on all that mattered. With the faction that calls itself a Left, Carr set about methodical destabilisation. He rightly took a deep interest in whom the factions were offering for the ministry. He was adept at exercising a silent veto: when Carr chose not to block the election of Joe Tripodi, it was a signal his own retirement was imminent.
BUILDING THE SINEWS FOR WAR
The costs of continuous campaigning even inside a fixed four-year term altered the structures of party politics. All year round, Labor was paying for the convening of focus groups, geographically targeted opinion polls and qualitative polling. These are costly outlays.
Labor went after money in big licks — quantums unprecedented at any time in its history. Contributions from party units, affiliated unions and public funding were not sufficient, as they had been just 20 years earlier. The sources for the big money were developers, hotels and gambling interests. Some of the funds came directly via declared donations; the remainder came via fundraising events. Fundraisers were of four different kinds: ALP dinners; industry dinners; the right to observe at the ALP annual conference; private lunches.
ALP dinners were big occasions, with guest lists in the order of 700 at major Sydney hotels. People paid large tariffs for the chance to talk to ministers, especially Planning ministers. Frank Sartor (Minister for Planning 2005–08) said the response to favours was always the same: 'Give me a card, write me a letter. The developers had a point of view, the bureaucrats another, so it was essential to have them in a room. You needed witnesses. Sometimes you laid on a half-day of interviews. Developers were in a queue.' Placement at table was important: ministers might veto who they were sitting with, but that did not stop the vetoed from coming up to them.
Industry dinners were part of the ALP Business Dialogue, Labor's fundraising club. Members paid $15 000 to $20 000 per annum, with about 20 people in a room, many of them developers. The general secretaries were careful in what they asked of ministers: 'Just talk to him. I don't care what you do.' Business people also paid serious money to be observers at the ALP annual conference. Private lunches were rare and potentially dangerous: they involved a selective lunch with the premier, the treasurer, the Planning minister and a developer. Finally, there were auctions in which ministers were the prize for a lunch with ten people. The proceeds went to charity.
Sartor explained the expectations of the ALP machine in this way: 'Mate-mate-mate-mate, four or five times. There was an index of mates, always prefaced by "we don't expect you to do anything but we want you to see him, the bureaucrats are mucking things up".' Premiers attended all the major dinners. Entirely separately, Carr would see a reputable big investor who had been blocked by a local council in circumstances thought to be unfair. Carr ensured the Minister for Planning was present. Always present, too, were a staffer and a public servant. Notes were taken.
The need for such volumes of money fundamentally altered the organisation of the ALP, transforming the need of a party in government for assistance from the party below. The evolution of modern politics has meant parties do not require mobile armies of activists. Branch members and party supporters once delivered leaflets, erected posters and staffed campaign offices; nowadays, political machines do not bother with the personalised pamphlet. Instead, they deploy direct mail, broadcast email, phone banks and unending surveys of opinion to fine-tune the message. Candidates lock into the central message or else. The mobile army of activists has been replaced by a sedentary army of ministerial staffers — a political class on large salaries with travel privileges, furnished offices in the best addresses in the city, mobile phones, computers, taxi vouchers and the like. Staffers are permanent and available at any time to serve as required. The work of staffers is in concert with the efforts of party officials, union officials and mercenaries in polling, direct mail and public relations. When Labor goes out of power, its sedentary army disappears. So do most of the sources of funding.
THE CONSEQUENCES OF ABOLISHING PARTY MEMBERSHIP
The continuing advance of a cartel party receives its homage when the 'graduates' of an ALP training course called Campaign Insight receive certificates for what they have learned about 'campaigning'. The certificates are a substitute for the learning that used to take place at the feet of masters. You observed, you did as you were told, you volunteered for more, you learned from your mistakes. Shortcomings warranted a verbal thrashing of the kind you might have thought you had left behind at school. The people at the other end of these lessons were stalwarts; they had earned the right to demand effort because they led by example.
ALP campaigns took place below: the fundraising was undertaken locally. So were pamphlet design and organising the printing. You learned basic design principles, who was reliable, what represented value for money, the importance of being timely. Stalwarts related stories. Travelling a constituency and speaking from the back of a truck, new members were thrown in at the deep end, learning the tricks of engaging a passing throng. Candidates spoke in public halls, learning how to deal with interjectors and worse. At dawn, you put your snipes high up power poles; you tore down all evidence of the other side.
Everyone worked for a living or was a student or an aged pensioner. The ALP employed no one you ever saw. Union officials might get a day off to assist towards the end of the campaign. No one was available for weeks at a time. The campaign was whatever locals made it. With the death of the ALP below, the party gives certificates to reward what was once basic to membership of an ALP branch — the training of the next generation of activists.
THE UNBROKEN DISCIPLINE OF THE NSW RIGHT
According to the organisational principles upon which the Right is built, a general secretary is right even when he is wrong. Because of such discipline, the Right has ensured its dominance for 70 years. Because of such discipline, the party in NSW is in a diabolical state.
Basic principles of governance have broken down in the NSW branch. The strongmen who ran the machine in times past have disappeared. These were seriously tough men, very capable instillers of fear who rarely had cause to deliver a threat because they understood that a spectre was always more frightening. They had other jobs in a union or parliament; they were steeped in Labor tradition, aware that ALP conferences had their own rude persona worthy of respect. They were restraints on the wilfulness of the general secretaries who, under such oversight, possessed a sense of how much of the candle was worth burning so that when the stoush came to an end, the party retained some sort of flickering light.
General secretaries in times past had worked for a living before entering the job; however, the last six (Dastyari, Thistlethwaite, Bitar, Roozendaal, Della Bosca, Loosley and Richardson) have only ever drawn an income from inside the political class. The party of the workers has a machine leadership that is wholly disengaged from the world of work. In such a world, it becomes possible to believe that all political outcomes are the result of manipulation: leadership is the tracking of public opinion with a view to crafting messages aimed at the hot points discerned in the polling. The role of the party membership is minimal for the good reason that a party membership is no longer necessary for any of the basic functions of a campaign. It is not needed for the customary work in an election campaign in which, in all the seats that matter, outside professionals discharge the tasks the locals used to perform; nor is it required for fundraising, which has well and truly been replaced by the dinners for the big end of town and the contributions from developers and gambling interests; and it is no longer a source of candidates and renewal, given that the imposition of outsiders and the unknown failed to elicit meaningful opposition from either the so-called Left or resistance by the electorate.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from From Carr to Keneally by David Clune, Rodney Smith. Copyright © 2012 David Clune and Rodney Smith. Excerpted by permission of Allen & Unwin.
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Table of Contents
Contents
Preface Rodney Cavalier,Contributors,
List of figures and tables,
Introduction and acknowledgements David Clune and Rodney Smith,
PART I: THE PARTIES AND INDEPENDENTS, 1995–2011,
1 The Labor Party Rodney Cavalier,
2 The Liberal Party Rodney Smith,
3 The Nationals and rural politics Bradley Bowden,
4 Non-rural Independents and the minor parties Rodney Smith,
PART II: KEY INSTITUTIONS OF NSW GOVERNMENT, 1995–2011,
5 Parliament Rodney Smith,
6 Premiers and Cabinets Paul Fawcett,
7 The public service Michael Di Francesco,
8 NSW and federalism Anne Twomey,
PART III: POLICY DEVELOPMENTS IN NSW, 1995–2011,
9 Budgets and finance Russell Ross,
10 Health David Gadiel and Jeremy Sammut,
11 Education Geoffrey Sherington and John Hughes,
12 Community services Kylie Valentine and Deborah Brennan,
13 Law and order Sandra Egger,
14 Industrial relations Greg Patmore,
15 Transport Claudine Moutou and Corinne Mulley,
16 Urban planning Robert Freestone and Peter Williams,
17 The environment Bruce Thom,
PART IV: THE 2011 NSW ELECTION,
18 NSW politics, 2007–10 David Clune,
19 Election rules, public funding and private donations Anika Gauja,
20 The campaign David Clune,
21 The news media Peter Chen,
22 The polls and voter attitudes Murray Goot,
23 The results Antony Green,
PART V: INTERPRETATIONS AND CONCLUSIONS,
24 How Labor governed Rodney Smith,
25 Why Labor lost David Clune,
26 The state of democracy in NSW Michael Hogan,
Notes,