MMP was expected to break the old Parliamentary duopoly of National and Labour and lead to far more inclusive and diverse political debate. Certainly, the increase in the number of parties in Parliament has spread the range of views being heard in the House, but it is doubtful that this has led to a greater level of debate about those views.
Contrary to what some might imagine, Parliamentary debates are not
free-ranging expressions of opinion, where differing ideas and policies are
contested. They are extremely regimented. Most debates are time limited, with
speaking times (ten minutes per speaker) and speaking order pre-determined evenly
between the government and Opposition sides of the House. A typical debate
comprises twelve speeches, with each of the six parties currently in the House
getting at least one call.
Debates have therefore become occasions to state party positions,
rather to contest differing ideas. Consequently, MPs often appear to be no more
than the delegates of their respective party when speaking in the House, rather
than legislators debating the merits of specific legislation. In short,
contemporary political debate has become all about political parties rehearsing
established political opinions to their respective political audiences, rather
than debating new ideas and seeking to reach consensus about the best way
forward.
The same tactic also applies to the wider approach most parties
take to promoting their interests. In this respect, it is worth recalling Hillary
Clinton’s observation that good political stories always contain a “goodie” and
a “baddie”. So, when the parties tell
their stories to their supporters, they are always the
“goodie” identifying the “baddie” they are fighting to protect the country
from, as the reason why people should vote for them.
The current spat between New Zealand First leader Winston Peters
and Green MP Ricardo Menéndez March is a case in point. The row is less about Menéndez
March’s use of Aotearoa to describe New Zealand than it is about asserting the
respective brands of New Zealand First and the Green Party.
To traditionalist, anti-multicultural New Zealand First, the very
presence in Parliament of Mexican immigrant Menéndez March is bad enough, but
his reference to Aotearoa instead of New Zealand was wokeness in the extreme.
Peters’ comments were therefore a dog-whistle to those voters who hold similar
views, that New Zealand First is in their corner.
The obverse applies in the case of the Green Party. To them, Menéndez
March was showing proper respect to tangata whenua by referring to New Zealand
by its original name and acknowledging their traditional rights and role. But
neither New Zealand First nor the Green Party has any real interest in debating
their respective positions with each other – the far more important point for
both was to window dress where they stood for the benefit of their supporters.
The same goes for ACT and Te Pāti Māori and their dispute over the
Treaty Principles Bill. Each desperately needs to be able to portray the other
as intolerant, unreasonable and anti-democratic to validate its own position
and strengthen its appeal to its core supporters. Again, it is less about
reasoned debate of differing points of view than an absolute statement of an
unshakeable position. The last thing either seek or want is any form of
compromise or reasoned discussion.
This sharpening political fundamentalism is creating a difficult
problem for both National and Labour, more traditionally broad churches than
narrow lines of opinion. It is more acute for National at present, simply
because it is the leading party of government.
Prime Minister Luxon often looks hamstrung by the extreme or
unreasonable positions of his support partners. While he cannot endorse them,
because they are not what his party stands for, he cannot reject them outright
either, because that would destroy his coalition government. But pretending the
differences are not there at all, as Luxon often appears to do, is the worst
position of all. It leaves the government looking weak and indecisive. Therefore,
to resolve this dilemma, National needs to better develop its own political
story, complete with its own “goodies” and “baddies”, instead of just hoping,
as currently appears to be the case, that its tick-box list of achievements
will carry the day.
It is a smaller but similar problem for Labour at present.
However, it will grow as the election nears and more attention is paid to the
radical policies of the Green Party and Te Pāti Māori and how they might be
accommodated in a future Labour-led government. Opposition leader Hipkins is
frequently critical of Prime Minister Luxon’s current difficulties, seemingly
unrealising that precisely the same challenges are lurking just around the
corner for him in the run-up to the election.
The demise of political debate as it used to be, in favour of the
fervent, dogmatic statement of party opinion as incontrovertible fact as we
have now, has dramatically changed the nature of political discourse around the
world. The absolutist way the Trump Administration and its allies operate is
the obvious extreme example. But our political system is not immune from these
features. The redefinition here of political debate to be less about the
exchange of ideas than the statement of pre-determined positions should be
viewed with increasing concern, rather than just becoming accepted, the way it
seems to be.
Over fifty years ago, the satirical television show Monty Python’s
Flying Circus attacked the then emerging lowest-common-denominator approach to
resolving complex issues in a skit where the existence of God was decided in a
wrestling match, by two falls to a submission.
Sadly, that is precisely the same approach we are taking to
complex political issues today.