Swamp of NZ politics turns into a cesspit
Let me quote a well-known American intellectual about the world of politics. ‘‘This is the most deceptive, vicious world. It is vicious, it’s full of lies, deceit and deception. You make a deal with somebody and it’s like making a deal with – that table.’’
That, of course, was American President Donald Trump talking about the most surprising part of his new role.
‘‘I always used to say the toughest people are Manhattan real estate guys and blah, blah. Now I say they’re babies,’’ he told CBS News in an interview commemorating his 20th month in office.
His description of the ‘‘swamp’’ of American politics would resonate with National leader Simon Bridges after a torrid week of fire-fighting and betrayal.
Perhaps the most telling word in the taped conversation he had with his rogue MP Jami-Lee Ross was the word ‘‘buddy’’, as in ‘‘good, buddy, good’’.
The word evokes a closeness bordering on brotherhood, an intimacy born of tough times together and a confidence earned by guarding each other’s backs.
To see ‘‘buddyness’’, which equates with mateship, manipulated and used vengefully is disturbing, even for the most cynical.
Perhaps we shouldn’t be too scrupulous about Ross’ motives, however. After all, many whistleblowers have hidden motives and axes to grind.
What we do expect from whistleblowers is solid evidence. Ross would have been forgiven if he had disclosed corruption or wrongdoing, even if it was at the 11th hour. However, all he revealed was his own deluded self-interest and desire to bring down the ‘‘buddy’’ who fingered him as a leaker.
Putting the sordidness aside, the most disturbing aspect of Bridges’ taped conversation with Ross is the sense that list selections are influenced by political donations.
The Auckland businessman Yikun Zhang, whose entities splashed out the $100,000 donation, looked as if he expected the donation would help the political aspirations of his son, Colin, who has been accepted for National’s Candidate School.
It’s naive to think big donors do not influence parties but to see it done by relative newcomers to the New Zealand scene is worrying.
Zhang’s Chinese links bring up the issue of interference in New Zealand politics by a foreign power. National had trouble last year explaining MP Jian Yang’s former career teaching spies in China and his membership of the Chinese Communist Party.
Canterbury University China specialist Anne-Marie Brady says the Chinese leadership regards New Zealand as a testing ground for working out how to conduct relations and gain influence in developed states.
Targeted political donations via ethnic Chinese business figures with strong links to China are one obvious method of pursuing influence, she says.
It may be that we are doing a great disservice to Zhang, who, for all we know, is a fierce proponent of democracy and free speech. His easy access to China would suggest that is not the case.
More transparency is the obvious solution and Ross would argue he is being pilloried for providing exactly the sort of transparency people have called for.
To be fair, he did reveal the donation but in such a way that the real issue had been completely overshadowed.
Another serious aspect of this unprecedented week in New Zealand politics is the damage it has done to our democracy.
For a start it has lowered the tone. This sounds frivolous but it is actually crucially important. We love to think the worst of politicians but in our sensible moments we realise they are much like us, doing the best they can in often complex circumstances and with their hearts in the right place.
A sordid week like the last suggests that politics is in fact about deceit, dubious compromises, back-stabbing, sexual chicanery and disloyalty.
Politics does not necessarily bring out the best in people but we still hope it attracts some of our best. Dramatic evidence that it doesn’t reduces confidence in the whole system of government.
The week also highlights a major issue for the National Party, whose parliamentarians are paid to be a strong Opposition and to hold the Government to account. Is Simon Bridges the best they have got?
And if he is, what does that say about the sort of people who are coming through the ranks to be Right-wing politicians? It suggests a party with a dearth of solid talent, a problem that also afflicts the Labour Party. We all share the blame for this, and after a week of mucky politics, you wonder how many good people have been deterred.
The week has been extremely unfair to Bridges. A private conversation with someone whom he thought a close associate and with whom he let his guard down has come back to haunt him.
It brings to mind the phrase that our worst moment does not define us. Not that it was so terrible but it emphasised the difference between the private and public individual. It peeled back the fiction that sustains political life. We should be ready for it but we never are.
Many whistleblowers have hidden motives and axes to grind. What we do expect from them is solid evidence.