30 October 2014

My Irish forbears were staunchly republican. I have inherited that trait. So, you would think I would welcome the Prime Minister’s plan for a couple of referenda on changing the New Zealand flag to something more distinctive.

Do not get me wrong – I do, but, at the same time, I think it is a really wasted opportunity. The process is estimated to cost around $26 million and at the end of it all we will either have a new flag, or not, as the people will decide. Nothing else will have changed.

MPs and others swearing oaths of loyalty will still be required to swear them to the Queen. The activities of the state will still be carried out in her name or those of “her heirs and successors”, who will still live on the other side of the world, with no direct or meaningful involvement in or understanding of the lives of contemporary New Zealanders.

We may well change the design of a cloth – and finally banish the Union Jack – but beyond that not a lot else is likely, or, more importantly, intended to change. It is a $26 million downpayment on letting the people have their say, but without threatening the core fabric of our comfortable society too much.

Sadly, it could have all been quite different, and not just another spluttered effort along the way. So too could the results of the Constitutional Arrangements Review Committee I chaired in 2004-05, but the Clark Government got cold feet when it came to getting anywhere near the feared “R” word. And so, despite their inclinations, the status quo was preferred, and the first opportunity for reform allowed to pass.

When the current government took office, the Constitutional Conversation was established, with a very high powered Eminent Persons Group under the distinguished leadership of Sir Tipene O’Regan, but again, the debate was cast in such a way to prevent any substantive debate of the “R” question. Despite the eminence of the committee and the willingness of people to engage and to be engaged, it rapidly became clear that the real purpose of the committee, at least insofar as the government was concerned, was to get the National and Maori Parties off their respective intransigent and diametrically opposed high horses on the future of the Maori seats. While it achieved that, it became our second lost opportunity in five years for a wider constitutional debate.

All of which brings me to the current flag exercise, which seems likely to fizzle out once the primary question has been resolved. It really is all quite clever politics. At one level, the various efforts of the last decade can be held to show at least that governments have a superficial willingness to talk about constitutional issues, so that can be construed as a positive. But, at another level, the debates have been constructed in such a way to ensure that the real issues are not addressed or really even discussed.

That may well work while it is perceived that the majority is comfortable with our retaining the Royal Family as the source of our Head of State. A little racy perhaps in giving people a say over the flag, but no real harm done even if people vote to change it, because we still have the Queen.

But, the times are a-changing. New Zealand’s increasingly multi-ethnic society feels less and less emotionally linked to Buckingham Palace as each year and scandal passes. The cry for our own Head of State will become irresistible, just as it was to my forbears all those years ago.           

   

  

 

 

 

 

23 October 2014

Earlier this week we marked the passing of the former Australian Prime Minister Gough Whitlam. The patrician, suavely elegant, physically imposing, polished orator, and silver haired Whitlam was very much a product of his time – the man credited with lifting Australia out of the torpor of the Menzies era of the 1950s and 1960s, and into the (then) modern era of the 1970s. In so doing, he shaped the face of modern Australia to the extent that today, nearly 40 years after his brief three years in office, Australia’s fundamentals are still very much the Whitlam legacy.

The contrast between the haughty grandeur of Mr Whitlam and the four contenders presently seeking the leadership of the New Zealand Labour Party in the now almost annual round of primary elections could not be more profound. However, it is a different time, and a different place, after all.

But there is an important lesson from the Whitlam ascendancy that the current gang of four should think about. Whitlam became leader of the Australian Labor Party at a time when the party had lost eight straight elections. It was dominated by its National Executive – the 12 faceless men as Whitlam famously called them – whose focus was preserving the legacy of the past, rather than facing the challenges and opportunities of the future. The problem as they (and the Caucus they selected and controlled) saw it was that while the ALP’s policies were fine and immutably principled, the Australian public seemed unwilling to accept in the comparative prosperity of the 1960s, the wisdom and virtue of returning to the more controlled society of the 1940s Labor heyday.

It had become a vicious circle. The more Labor lost, the more it turned inwards upon itself, and reaffirmed the need to return to first principles to regain power. And the more Menzies just kept winning.

Whitlam’s real success came early in his leadership of the party when he took on the entrenched interests directly, with a stinging attack on their failings that culminated in the immortal line “only the impotent are pure.”

A similar challenge faces the New Zealand Labour Party as it searches for its fifth leader in six years. A common refrain in the Labour Party is that the reason for their last two catastrophic defeats is that people do not understand their policies, and they need to be better communicated. On the contrary, people understand their policies all too well, and just do not like them. They may well meet all the needs of the interest groups that make up the modern Labour Party, but they clearly do not resonate with the near half million voters who have deserted Labour in recent years.

None of the current leadership contenders is a Gough Whitlam. But they can learn from him. “Only the impotent are pure” is a powerful starting point. The long term winner and possible next Labour Prime Minister will be the candidate bold enough to take on the party’s entrenched interests, and make them secondary to the interest of suburban, middle New Zealand.

Shane Jones was the last such candidate – and look what happened to him.  

14 October 2014

So, we are embarking on a rapid, four week review of our intelligence and security settings in the light of the rise of ISIL and associated groups. But did we not have a major review of the GCSB legislation last year, and was not one of the outcomes of that review a new requirement that from 30 June 2015 the GCSB and the SIS would be independently reviewed every 5 to 7 years to ensure that they remain relevant and fit for purpose?

The answer to each of those questions is yes, so what has changed so dramatically in the last 12 months to apparently override all of this? The rise of what Minister Finlayson described as the “international terrorist” as evidenced most dramatically by the ISIL is the obvious answer. Repugnant as ISIL’s and related factions’ actions have been, the term is essentially pejorative, and needs to be treated with some caution. After all, we used to talk of “freedom fighters” to cover people who joined a variety of “liberation” movements to fight for decolonisation in Africa and Asia, without attracting huge security attention. When New Zealanders were killed in such actions, in East Timor for example, we took clear stances to find out what had happened. And in an earlier generation, many idealistic, progressive young people, New Zealanders included, joined the International Brigade to fight fascism in the Spanish Civil War.

So what has changed? Is it the graphic display of the brutal atrocities being carried out by groups like ISIL? Or the cause they are perceived to represent in this post 9/11 world?

Whatever the reason, all governments (curiously most reporting always contains the adjective “western” governments, which may of itself be telling) are responding. That in turn is bringing renewed focus upon international intelligence sharing arrangements, in New Zealand’s case Five Eyes, and the extent to which national sovereignty is being influenced if not actually limited by the information being obtained and shared.

Now these are not necessarily reasons why we should be wary of the urgent review being undertaken, but they raise very serious questions about the timing and the apparent rush to complete it, compared to, say, the more deliberate way we are approaching the potential Ebola pandemic, arguably of far greater risk to humanity. (The Prime Minister has spoken of legislation being passed under Urgency by the end of the year.) Yet we are scheduled to have a fully independent review of our security services as soon as possible after 30 June 2015, and Minister Finlayson was reported at the weekend noting the importance of that process.

Until the case for urgency is made, we are all left to speculate. For example, has this got something to do with shoring up support for our UN Security Council seat bid, or placing New Zealand in a good international position ahead of next month’s G20 meeting? Or will the Prime Minister’s promised major speech in the next few weeks reveal a set of circumstances so compelling to make obvious the need to leap-frog next year’s planned reviews and introduce new measures now, which ironically may not survive those reviews?

Time will tell, but, in the meantime, a dose of healthy caution is warranted. Breathing steadily and deeply and focusing on the facts, not the emotive hyperbole, is the best way forward.                

 

 

 

 

7 October 2014

One of the challenges facing any government – particularly a long-term government – is that of regeneration. And the conventional wisdom is that by and large, governments are not very good at that, because the last thing politicians want to do is think too much about who might succeed them.

When changes are made and Cabinets reshuffled they are generally dismissed as cosmetic exercises, mere fiddling around the edges, removing the one or two more obvious problems, but leaving the essential fabric more or less untouched.

Well, actually, that conventional wisdom does not accord with reality. Politics is a game of constant regeneration, and the present government is a good example of that. Of the 58 National MPs elected when the party came to office in 2008, just 34 remain MPs today. 24, nearly 42%, of that original Caucus have for one reason or another moved on within the intervening 6 years. A similar pattern applies with regard to Ministerial selections. Just 12 Ministers (44%) remain from those appointed to john Key’s first Ministry in 2008. Within the Cabinet itself there has been a 45% turnover rate in the last 6 years.

Now, the sceptic might concede that this process of subtle, steady change under John Key is unusual, and that the parlous state of the Labour Party at present shows what happens when a party does not regenerate and lets the old guard hang on for too long.

But they would be wrong too. Of 43 Labour MPs elected in 2008, only 18 remain today. 58% of Labour’s post 2008 election Caucus has moved on, or been moved on, a far higher turnover rate than National’s. All of which gives the lie to the old guard argument Labour has been suffering from.

Overall, a bare majority – 61 MPs – has been elected at or since the 2008 election, which means a just over 50% turnover rate of MPs in the last 6 years. Moreover, just 21 of our current MPs were in Parliament 10 years ago. The average life of a New Zealand MP remains at just over two terms.

So, in reality, we do have a high and constant rate of MP turnover, contrary to the public perception. The challenge therefore is not so much the turnover question, but the twofold one of ensuring that the quality of MPs coming into Parliament is high, and that a sufficient number of experienced MPs is re-elected each election to ensure continuity and stability. And that is where the unfailingly correct judgement of the electorate at large plays the decisive role.

 

 

30 September 2014

The current debate over the future leadership of the Labour Party has given rise to much commentary about the ideal political leader.

For me, an outstanding political leader by any standard, whom I have always admired, was the great Irish nationalist Eamon de Valera. From the time of the Easter Uprising in 1916 until shortly before his death in 1975, de Valera was at the centre of Irish politics, either as Prime Minister, Leader of the Opposition, or President of the Republic.

That physical longevity was remarkable enough, but de Valera’s political survival skills mark him out as one of the great leaders of the 20^th century. Yet he was a grim, dour figure, possessing no charisma, and virtually blind for the last 20 years of his life.

What made de Valera was that he never lost his dream of what his country could be. Quaint and out-moded as it proved to be by the time he finally stood down as President in 1973, de Valera’s dream shaped and dominated Ireland’s destiny, probably through until the rise of the Celtic Tiger in the 1990s. He was extremely wily – his biographer Lord Longford paints vivid pictures of how he outwitted the English over the Abdication Crisis in 1936, and the Germans during the War over their wish to upgrade the status of their Legation in neutral Dublin to that of a full Embassy. To their surprise, de Valera not only was supportive but agreed that the Embassy should be opened by the German Head of State, provided, of course, he respected Ireland’s neutrality by travelling to Dublin for the occasion, by non-military means, which was of course completely impossible in the circumstances of the time, unless one was to travel via England. At that point, the proposal was quietly shelved.

I am not seeking to make allusions between de Valera’s extraordinary and arguably unique career and the current plight of the Labour Party, save for one point. De Valera knew instinctively what the narrative was that he wanted to present to the Irish people, and he stuck with it for over half a century in public life. There were times when it was unpopular; times when it was seen as slightly old-fashioned and romanticised; and, other times, especially towards the end of his career, when it was simply out of touch.
Yet he stuck to his line, and backed down for no-one, most notably in his rebuke to President Kennedy, after the latter’s powerful speech to the Dail during his successful 1963 visit, or when he spoke on the occasion of the 50^th Anniversary of the Easter Uprising in 1966. Constancy was his byword.

To me, that highlights a critical quality of leadership – conviction and strong self-belief in the cause one is promoting. I do not mean conviction displayed superficially in the neo-Pentecostal sense we often confuse as charisma, but conviction in the sense of quiet, determined inner passion that drives one forward and which over time inspires its own sense of confidence. Grim determination in pursuit of a goal should always outshine flashiness or overt showmanship, in my view.

Interestingly, it was that same sense of grim determination that marked out one of our greatest Prime Ministers – Peter Fraser – and Helen Clark, in more recent times. So, maybe as Labour begins its now near-annual search for a new leader, it should take a leaf out of the Fraser and Clark books, and opt for the choice that has the determination, constancy, grit and stamina to settle in and knuckle down for the long haul.

The problem is finding such a person in the current Labour Caucus.     

    

  

 

 

 

 

18 September 2014

A couple of elections ago there was a bumper sticker around to the effect the one million New Zealanders liked to hunt, fish or tramp in our great outdoors. The implication was that governments therefore needed to take their concerns more seriously to retain their electoral support. The reality was, however, that when it came to the elections that million New Zealanders voted pretty much the same way as everyone else, and nothing much changed.

One of the reasons for that that was that while the statements were fine and the concerns serious, there was no political party that appealed as the most logical home for their votes. All that has changed significantly in the last three years. There has been a party in Parliament that has demonstrated a commitment to outdoor values in the most practical of ways. That party is UnitedFuture, and the practical evidence is the establishment of the Game Animal Council as a statutory body. For almost 70 years hunters in particular had been advocating for such a body, but those calls had consistently fallen on deaf ears. The fact that UnitedFuture was able to bring the Game Animal Council to fruition not only resolved this long standing issue, but more importantly sent a signal to many with an interest in outdoor recreation policy that at last there was a party which did not just talk the talk, but walked the walk as well.

That achievement assumes a fresh relevance on the back of an announcement by the recreational fishing group Legesea last week. Legesea, which speaks for about 85,000 recreational fishers, issued its assessment of the various political parties’ policies and who would be best for the recreational fishing sector. UnitedFuture was their runaway winner. Now here is the rub. If around 30,000 of those members give their party vote to UnitedFuture there will be at least 2 UnitedFuture MPs in the new Parliament. If 50,000 of them vote for us, there will 3 UnitedFuture MPs, and if the whole 85,000 vote for us there will be at least 4 UnitedFuture MPs, and the debate about potential kingmakers would look entirely different.

Be all that as it may, we are now coming to the end of the most unusual and bizarre election campaign I have ever been involved in. The overriding message I am picking up is that people have had more than enough of the sideshows, and are looking forward to the resumption of normal business next week.

My parting shot is simply this: one thing this campaign has shown is that anything is possible – and you can vote for it. This is still a democracy which our votes control. So maybe this time the bumper sticker claims I began with will translate into practical results on the day – but only if people vote for what they believe in. Now it really is over to you. Your vote can move mountains, if you are prepared to let it do so.      

 

12 August 2014

It had to happen at some stage. And better late than never is probably an understandable excuse, but, at last, as the home straight looms, the election debate has started to focus on the policy options the various parties are putting forward.

UnitedFuture seemed all alone a few weeks ago when we launched our election manifesto on-line. Alone – because we had a detailed manifesto – and even more alone because we chose to promote it. And when we started to follow that up with specific Policy of the Day on-line releases, we were really out on a limb. We were in danger of taking the election too seriously, and proving my infamous “we did not set out to be spectacular” comment was true after all. I mean, fancy using an election campaign to focus on serious things like policy, when there are so many clowns, charlatans and cheap sideshows around to claim public attention.

Yet our statistics show that thousands of people have had a look at our manifesto and on-line policy announcements, and have liked what they have seen. And I have been struck at meetings, in my own electorate and around the country, in casual conversations at airports and shopping centres and other places I have visited, how familiar people are with our key policies and how they could be implemented. All that is consistent with the messages being recorded by the various websites which aim to fit voters’ views with the most relevant political party for them, and the numbers of people contacting us to say they have been most aligned to UnitedFuture.

All these developments offer encouragement that the election is not going to be the farce it threatened to be a few weeks ago, and that people do want to focus on the real issues, and hear what the parties have to say, and that our democracy will be the better for it.

By and large, the media have worked this out too, and have started to focus on the things that matter. However, it is by no means universal. Of course, every election has its clowns and snake-oil merchants – indeed, we seem to have a perennial performer in that regard. Sadly, spivs like this attract their own deal of curious attention – superficial, slobbering, and looking solely at the external trappings, not the lack of substance or policy, or the chicanery lying behind the faded image. Most people, in the media and elsewhere, readily see this for what it is. Some genuinely do not, but worse, some who do choose to ignore it, preferring to be tawdry apologists for what they see as no more than necessary electoral entertainment. That not only defiles their credibility as commentators, but also politics as a noble art.

As I say, policy and its detail – which were decidedly absent at the start of the campaign – have now become relevant, as at least one leader has discovered to his discomfort. Now, as the post-election phase approaches, it will be policy again –not sensationalist alarums – that will shape the future direction of government. A simple tip comes to mind: in looking ahead to what may happen post September 20th, it will be the parties that have worked together, who will be those that are able to stay together.