Australians Saw the REAL John Howard and Rejected Him
From Times onLine
It could have been much worse. On Saturday John Howard and his Government were ejected with an enormous swing, but for the past two weeks the Australian Liberal Party had been facing electoral Armageddon.
Though in the end it was badly beaten, despite a campaign in which everything seemed to go wrong it was no 1997.
The closest thing to a Portillo moment was Howard’s defeat in his own seat of Bennelong, but given his majority that was hardly a surprise.
Over the course of the campaign, the Government had endured an interest-rate rise (the sixth in a row), the release of an official report that showed it had spent millions pork-barrelling its own seats, and the revelation that a senior member of the party had been caught delivering forged campaign literature designed to stir up hatred against Muslims.
The wonder is not that it lost, but that it held so many of its seats.
Why did Howard lose?
Part of the explanation is that the voters were sick of him. He had been a fixture in national life since 1977 when Malcolm Fraser made him Treasurer.
Over that time, as all politicians will, he shaded the truth on occasion. His particular skill was to make statements that appeared cast-iron but which on closer examination allowed considerable wriggle room should circumstances change.
For this reason Howard was very rarely caught telling lies, but as the years went by the impression increased that he was economical with the truth. The focus groups must have picked this up, because this year all Labor politicians have been repeating a line to deadly effect: “John Howard is a very clever politician.”
The 2004 Election
Looking back, the signs that Australians were beginning to weary of Howard were there before his last election victory in 2004. He won then with an increased majority by successfully painting the Labor leader, Mark Latham, as a flake, not fit to be trusted with the economy. The emphatic nature of that win led people to overlook that for much of the previous three years Labor had been ahead in the polls, suggesting that Howard’s appeal was fading, and that only at the last minute had voters decided that Latham was too risky.
As it turned out, Latham was a flake: within three months of the election he had cracked up and resigned from Parliament, forcing Labor to resurrect Kim Beazley.
Howard seemed invincible. He had a big majority courtesy of Latham. He had an Opposition leader he had beaten twice before and who he was sure he could beat again.
He even had control of the Senate, the first Prime Minister to do so for 25 years. In these circumstances, why would he retire to hand over to his unpopular deputy, Peter Costello? The back bench was not telling him to go, indeed most of its members were begging him to stay.
Howard's Position Built on Sand
Alas, Howard's position was built on sand: his big majority was not a reflection of his popularity, but Latham's unpopularity.
Labor soon realised that Beazley was a dud and replaced him with the fresh-faced former diplomat Kevin Rudd, who it was clear was no Latham. But it was Howard's control of the Senate more than anything else that was to prove his undoing.
For years he had longed to change Australia’s industrial relations system, watering down unfair dismissal laws and making it easier for bosses to move workers from collective agreements (negotiated by unions) on to individual contracts; but the Senate had made this impossible.
Now armed with a Senate majority Howard pushed through Work Choices – probably the most unpopular law in Australian history.
At a stroke the Liberal Party lost the working-class voters who had been the bedrock of its electoral success and on Saturday they sent it packing.
Labour's Message to Voters
If Labor is absent from the picture, it is because, by and large, Labor went out of its way to make the election about the Government.
Rudd’s message was simple: “If you want to get rid of that tricky old politician John Howard, then vote for me. If you want to get rid of Work Choices, vote for me.”
What Rudd really wants to do now he is in government is anyone‘s guess.
Oppositions don’t win elections, Governments lose them.
Where there was no obvious electoral advantage in disagreeing with him, Rudd was happy to lead a “me too” party. Labor was also very good at turning Howard’s gifts as a politician against him.
At every opportunity it praised his intelligence and cunning, so that voters began to see calculation whenever he opened his mouth.
SO LONG, JOHN
by
Jill Singer
DING dong, the witch is dead. No more lies, cover-ups, stupid wars, trashing of our environment and brutalisation of refugees.
At least, I live in hope, as do the vast bulk of Australians who turned their back on John Howard after his 11 years in power.
I'm not sure which I'd rather be now, a fly on the wall at Kirribilli when Janette is forced to remove her clutches from the drapes, or over at the Liberals' post-mortem.
What a bloodbath that will be, full of recriminations and battles for supremacy. John Howard has, of course, endorsed Peter Costello as his successor -- the future of the Liberal Party, such as it is.
But Costello is not having any of that, which leaves the way for either Turnbull or Nelson to slug it out.
If he wants to seek job opportunities in the private sector, I'd recommend checking out the paper-shredding industry, which is surely set to boom.
Gosh, I'm feeling chirpy. I realise such blatant jubilation is possibly ungracious but really, can you imagine the triumphalism if Howard had got back in?
We'd never have heard the end of it. He'd have been lauded as a little Menzies and been utterly unbearable on his morning walkies, doing that silly slapping high-five thing he adopted over recent times to make himself look hip.
Frankly, I was disappointed that Kevin didn't rub his nose in it on election night. Which is why I'm doing it for him now.
Howard wouldn't have been so decent in victory. He'd have been gloating and sinking the boot into Labor like there's no tomorrow. As would his supporters.
Yes, I realise there are some people who are upset, like the silly newsreader on Channel 7 who said she cried when Howard conceded defeat. Stiff. He has only himself to blame.
When confronted with bad polls John Howard faced his worried Cabinet and asked with incredulity, is it me?
Yes, John it was you -- your pride, puffed-up ego, dirty tricks, profligate bribery and streak of cruelty.
When your colleagues wanted to oust you you refused, on Janette's advice, to step aside.
How fitting, then, that after hiding behind your wife's skirt another sheila has given you a hiding in Bennelong.
What a bravura performance by Ms McKew. And what a stunning faux pas by ABC bloodnut Kerry O'Brien when he called the swing to Max a swing to the ABC, rather than the ALP. That'll take some living down.
As will the behaviour of several others. Journalist Caroline Overington hardly covered herself in glory during the campaign, what with her emails to candidates ranging from raunchy to threatening, then slapping the Labor candidate's face in front of witnesses.
She says it was a push, not a slap. Either way, not a good look.
Nor was the Age's pathetic, long-winded fence-sitting editorial. So many words, so little respect for readers.
Who would have imagined that the Age, renowned for its soft-Left bent, would refuse to openly back Rudd, when even The Australian, Daily Telegraph and Courier Mail did so?
Some might say the campaign was as dull as the Age's grip on its readers' sentiments. Not me. There were plenty of highlights.
For a while it looked as if Kevin's proclivity for chewing ear wax and perving at topless barmaids would bring him undone.
Strangely enough, it only served to endear him to a public keen for change.
It was the behaviour of Kevin's opponents that proved most remarkable.
Bribes, threats, scare tactics -- it was vintage stuff.
Lest we forget, there was John Howard's rattled, worm-strangling debate performance; Alexander Downer hissing and spitting like an alley cat whenever Rudd's name was mentioned; Tony Abbott's uncharacteristic loss of control when the going got tough.
They were nothing compared with Jackie Kelly and Kevin Andrews, though.
Kelly's defence of her husband's bogus flyers linking Labor to terrorism was pure idiocy.
And Andrews' ripping down of an opponent's election posters at a polling booth was stunningly petulant.
What joy. Kevin, Julia et al -- congratulations. Just don't stuff it up. Please.
The Rudd to Nowhere
by Guy Rundle
(Guy Rundle is an Arena (Australia) Publications Editor, and author of The Opportunist: John Howard and the Triumph of Political Reaction, (Melbourne, Black Inc, 2001).
Eleven years after Australians comprehensively voted in John Howard, said by some to be the most conservative prime minister in our history, they have booted him out again, selecting Australian Labor Party leader Kevin Rudd with the sort of swing – six per cent – that passes for a landslide in contemporary electoral politics.
Paul Keating, the Labor prime minister deposed by Howard in 1996, summed up the mood for many when he said that his dominant emotion following Howard’s departure was not so much happiness, but rather a sense of relief. ‘Relief’ is a curious emotion to nominate as your first reaction to the success of your own party, denoting the absence of the negative – the worst hasn’t happened – rather than enthusiasm for any positive, transformative programme. But Keating is spot-on in his assessment of where the Australian people are at: both the Ruddslide itself and the reaction to it tell us much the country, and also about the predicament of Western electoral politics in general.
Australia, 9/11 and immigration
John Howard, and the Liberal/National Party coalition he led (the Liberal Party party is effectively a Conservative party; the National Party is exclusively a rural-based party) has dominated federal Australian politics for a decade, especially in the past five years. First elected in 1996, Howard had run overwhelmingly on a campaign against ‘political correctness’, targeting Labor prime minister Paul Keating’s growing obsession with addressing some dominant issues in Australian life – the country’s relationship to Britain, aboriginal/non-aboriginal relations, etc – because they had alienated a socially conservative section of the working class on which Labor’s vote had been based. Yet his support remained shaky, and he effectively lost the 1998 election, winning by the fluke of seat distribution.
What confirmed Howard in power was the almost simultaneous occurrence of the Tampa crisis, in August 2001, and the attack on the Twin Towers the following month. The Tampa was a Norwegian container ship that had taken on a large group of refugees from a sinking ship in the Indian Ocean. The captain was refused permission to dock in Australia, but when he attempted to dock anyway, the vessel was occupied by the Australian military. The bizarre events brought to a head the sharply polarised views on the government’s ‘mandatory detention’ policy – indefinitely imprisoning asylum seekers in desert prison camps – with a solid 70 per cent of Australians supporting the policy.
The era of the ‘war on terror’ confirmed Howard as the ‘natural’ leader of the country in dangerous times, a view reinforced by an adulatory conservative-dominated press. Yet the principal effect of these years was not hegemony but hubris; gaining control of the Senate (the upper house) in 2004, Howard introduced a series of laws – ‘Workchoices’ – designed to dissolve most of the remnants of Australia’s centralised wage-fixing system, and sharply restrict the ability of trade union organisers to enter workplaces. The result was an immediate, instant and decisive shift of support back to Labor, which had chosen a leader, Rudd, who was the first to be seen as dependable after a few Labor duds.
Simultaneously, the Iraq war – never popular with the electorate, aside from a few weeks at the time of the 2003 invasion – became immired. Howard’s slavish devotion to the American alliance (he had once said that Australia could play the role of ‘deputy’ to the US sheriff in the Pacific region) became a liability as the war on terror’s image changed to that of duplicitous farce. No longer serving as a national unifier, Iraq became a source of discredit, and it attached itself to other policy positions running contrary to the mass of Australian public opinion, such as the decision not to sign up to the Kyoto accord.
By the early part of 2007, Howard simply couldn’t take a trick, and his politics became desperately opportunistic – sending the military in to occupy Australian aboriginal communities one month (to ‘restore law and order’), promising a referendum on racial reconciliation the next – and so on. It was an attempt to find any front for a new social division, in which the primary social conflict between the ‘battlers’ and the ‘elites’ (cultural not financial) could be opened up.
The collapse of political difference
Howard’s instincts were right – his problem was that he was faced with a Labor leader who did not put forward a dramatically alternative programme, but instead offered, embarrassingly, to endorse many of Howard’s attitudes, leaving very little space between them on a range of issues.
The result was effectively a political vacuum for six months, during which time it became clear that the public had made up its mind, and little would change it either way. In this vacuum – a fully post-political space in a country more socially atomised than most – the findings of opinion polls came to occupy the centre of political commentary and reflection in the media. Yet this was not because the polls were moving; in fact they weren’t – they hovered around a 55-45 preference for Labor, with occasional fluctuations for most of the year.
The Labor party that fairly effortlessly replaced Howard in the subsequent campaign is thus a cautious centre-right administration, which has hedged its bets magnificently. Though it will, or claims it will, withdraw Australian combat troops from Iraq, it will remain in Afghanistan. Though it will remove much of the ‘Workchoices’ legislation, it will try to leave key restrictions on union organisation, wildcat strikes and so on in place. Its plans for education and healthcare reform (which it must conduct in line with the state governments, under Australia’s federal system) will be modest, and are unlikely to address the growing inequality in access in what was once a substantially fairer system. Much of its programme – and the base of its support – has simply been around undoing what the Howard government has done on many issues.
This is in part because, on the surface, Australia is doing well economically, with low unemployment, high incomes and increasing assets in increasingly many hands. Yet that has served not only to hide the shaky base of economic prosperity, but also to naturalise the remaining areas of urban and rural poverty and lack of opportunity as simply being beyond remedy.
Increasingly Australia has taken its self-image from outside – from the rapturous appreciation by British and Americans of a country where detached housing, good schools, stable work and good affordable basic medical care contrasts with a perceived torpor of the former and the substantial inequality of the latter in Britain and America themselves. Yet this hides what could be taken from this newfound prosperity, if the will was there. The cost of home ownership in a society which used to see owning your home as a right has gone from two-and-a-half times one’s income to an average of seven times, a process sold as inevitable by asking the (shrinking) band of homeowners to focus on the fabulous appreciating value of their bricks-and-mortar.
Consequently, the other side of the Australian boom has been underplayed until now – that it has been based on substantial underinvestment in infrastructure, high-end manufacturing and, above all, education and research, the government running heavy budget surpluses to return tax cuts. The result is an economy overly dependent on mining, and demand for its products in the Chinese economy, with a severe trade deficit.
Labor, currently in control of all state governments as well as the federal government in Canberra, now has an opportunity few administrations have had: to push forward substantial change without the fear of policies being derailed by state-level opposition, as has happened in the past. Unfortunately, it is an oppporunity that Rudd’s government looks very unlikely to seize.
The Liberals under Howard
For the Liberal/National opposition, prospects are dire. The National Party is disappearing, many of its former rural seats becoming regional suburban centres. Hitherto based on unabashed rural socialism and urban capitalism – subsidies for uneconomic farmers, master-and-servant law for workers, etc – it has no principled base from which to speak.
The same is true for the Liberal Party. This is a new development and one that owes much to John Howard’s determination that his politics would come not from an assertion of a positive set of values, as such, but as correctives or responses to the supposed dominance of Australian life by inner-city left-liberal ‘elites’. This move – on issues as broad as indigenous relations, migration policy and school curricula – exploited the fact that what had been a progressive alliance between such ‘minority’ groups and the broader working class in the Seventies had collapsed into mutual distrust in the Nineties, as Paul Keating’s harsh economic reconstruction hit manufacturing jobs, while he became increasingly elitist in his celebration of high art, promoting colonial history as guilt, and occasionally berating Australians for not being, well, Europeans.
The Liberals thus represented themselves as the party standing up for those victimised by anti-patriotic cosmopolitans. The ‘elites’ had imposed a ‘black armband’ view of history; they had made it impossible to talk openly about the ‘Muslim threat’; they had alienated our history and identity from us by turning the curriculum into a deconstructive mish-mash. The Liberals would stand up for Australian values – ‘mateship’, the ‘fair go’ – against these alien imports.
There was some truth to the Liberals’ charges. Much cultural-left politics was self-defeating and unreflectively elitist. Indigenous politics had become trapped in a politics of symbolism, in which notions of ‘reconciliation’ and a government apology for past eugenics policies meant making indigenous people, once again, subject to the will of whites – waiting to be granted their own subjectivity by white acts. Howard’s canny refusal to apologise, offering instead a statement of regret, endeared him to people tired of being blamed for massacres they didn’t commit. And Liberals were right that school curricula had been transformed by educationists keen on post-structuralist ideas – despite concerted opposition from a materialist left – in ways that delivered a less-than-rigorous education.
The corrosive effect of opposition
Yet by focusing on these relatively minor features of most people’s lives, well beyond the point at which they had seemed to be urgent issues, the Liberal party set itself up for an internal collapse. By the end of its decade in power, it was wholly defined by what it was not, and once Labor had begun to shadow it, there was no political player on the stage to define itself against. The Liberal party simply failed to understand where that distinctive Australian self-conception, or the mateship thing, came from: that is, from a solidaristic trade-union tradition. Thus it attempted to sell its changes to employment law in an American-style language of ‘choice’ and ‘freedom’, only realising when it was too late that the party would founder on that very notion of Australian solidarity that it had being playing to.
Since Federation in 1901, right-wing parties in Australia have always defined themselves against Labor. Until the 1980s, they could call on a sense of British national identity and loyalty to do this. Once this appeal collapsed, as large-scale immigration changed the composition of the country, they were forced into an explicit theft of Labor’s dominant traditions. Had they prudently avoided tinkering with the wage-arbitration system – a core of Australian life since 1907 – they might have gained an extra term. But sooner or later they would have faced the problem that they had not committed themselves to any positive statement of something to stand for. Howard’s 1996 comment that he wanted Australians to feel ‘comfortable and relaxed’ about themselves lacked, in the long term, any notion of a sense of collective aspiration and mission that might animate politics.
The Liberals now face the problem that all parties going into opposition face across the advanced world: there is no clear programme amongst the established mainstream parties that they might define themselves in opposition to. In Australia, the conservative collapse has already begun. With Howard likely to lose his seat, and retiring in any case, the heir apparent Peter Costello stunned many by announcing that he would not seek the leadership of the party, and instead would leave politics. He was followed by the leader of the National Party, Mark Vaile. Others will follow, an exodus beyond the usual changing of the guard. It is a response to the fact that official political opposition is now the very negation of life, a ghastly charade that no-one wants to be trapped in. Those who survive will be the party’s hard right – fundamentalist Christians on an explicitly US neoconservative model, so far outside of the Australian political tradition that they would render the party a permanent rump.
Meanwhile, many people who cheered – as I did – at Rudd’s victory, will soon find out what even a couple of years of New Labour in the UK taught Britons: that the coercive soft and hard power deployed by one-time social democratic parties, their shaping of a culture which invites people to consent to unfreedom in the name of community and safety, will have to be contested and challenged on an entirely different basis.
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