Barclay: Where it went wrong
The National party are gathering for what was supposed to be a triumphant weekend. But the PM has been diminished by shenanigans in Southland. Where did it go wrong? reports.
Politics is brutal? Hell yeah. On Tuesday it looked like Todd Barclay was digging his heels in, refusing to quit over a developing scandal about secret recordings. But the drums were beating. The talk around National Party circles in Auckland that evening was that Barclay was already a goner. They were right.
It was just after 1pm on Wednesday when Barclay finally issued a short statement, announcing the inevitable.
Barclay is one of a tight circle of close knit MPs in the National caucus - a group that includes the senior whip Jami-Lee Ross, Invercargill MP Sarah Dowie, and back benchers including Paul Foster Bell and Brett Hudson.
Some of them had spent the day at his side, others came and went to check on him. Barclay was in turmoil, life as he knew it in tatters.
Mentors like his former boss, Hekia Parata, were counselling him that his position had become untenable.
His friends were shattered. And they were deeply, deeply angry. But politics moves fast. By Wednesday evening, names for Barclay’s potential replacement were already being tossed around.
Barclay was the ultimate career politician; one of the new breed of MPs spat out by the political machine on both sides - he worked for Hekia Parata and Gerry Brownlee, grew up down the road from Prime Minister Bill English. Landing the plum Clutha Southland seat must have seemed like the ultimate promotion. It should have been a job for life, one of the safest seats in the country. But Barclay’s career is over after just three short years, and this bluest of blue seats, as heartland as it gets, has been torn apart by allegations of skulduggery, sabotage and dirty tricks.
Barclay, English: chalk, cheese
Barclay, 27, inherited the CluthaSouthland seat from English. They are chalk and cheese. So it’s not surprising Barclay immediately rubbed up English’s old staff the wrong way.
Here is where accounts differ of who was most to blame.
But where there is agreement is Barclay’s refusal to follow the advice being offered him.
Depending on who you ask, it was either youth and inexperience that did for him, or a combination of arrogance and narcissism. People hold deeply polarising views about the young MP.
Relations in Southland quickly turned sour. The flash point was Barclay’s relationship with Glenys Dickson, English’s long time assistant.
Dickson had been running the office for more than a decade and was used to doing things her way with a boss who had bigger problems on his plate and largely left her to it.
She and Barclay clashed. Insiders say Barclay should have seen it coming, had a clean sweep.
Parliamentary Service contracts include a ‘‘face doesn’t fit’’ clause that allows MPs to terminate someone’s employment if the relationship of trust has broken down.
It is used surprisingly often. But Barclay didn’t pull the trigger till it was too late.
Relations got worse and the poison spread to to the local electorate committee. There was ill will over Barclay choosing to live at the richer end of the electorate, in Queenstown, rather than closer to the Southland office.
Barclay is young, wealthy, and likes to party; he frequents the bars on Courtenay Place and in tourist mecca Queenstown.
He got word of a whispering campaign about his social life and some of his conduct. Rightly or wrongly, Barclay was convinced Dickson was behind it.
‘‘The evil six’’
Dickson was ousted but you don’t run an electorate office in a place like Gore without gathering allies.
Many of the old guard were in an uproar.
Dickson complained to police about the ‘‘secret’’ tape recordings. Key people quit, including the electorate chairman Stuart Davie.
English’s text to Davie, and subsequently provided to police, confirmed Barclay had admitted to him recording Dickson, though Barclay had publicly denied it.
The so-called ‘‘malcontents’’, dubbed ’’the evil six’’ , were forced out and the electorate hierarchy were more sympathetic to Barclay.
There’s talk about Barclay stacking the votes, and a board investigation (insiders doubt Barclay broke any rules).
But the so-called ‘‘evil six’’ continued to agitate and tried to get up a challenge when Barclay went for re-selection in December.
Their candidate was a high flier in the mould of former prime minister John Key, Queenstown based former funds manager Simon Flood.
But the local electorate stuck with Barclay. Some of them had misgivings, Stuff has been told.
But there was a lot of anger about the way the campaign to undermine Barclay had been run, much of it out in the public arena.
The divide between sympathy and anger
You don’t get into politics if you’re squeamish about blood on the floor. But since the dark old days of the early 2000s, when the party nearly tore itself apart, National’s way has been to keep its fights behind closed doors.
Says one Nat insider: ‘‘This is not how we do things’’.
By this time the stories about secret recordings were rife throughout the electorate though Barclay denied it.
And Barclay’s problems with his office were by then widely known within the caucus as well. But sympathy seems to have been firmly on his side.
High fliers including Judith Collins and Jonathan Coleman publicly endorsed him.
Even now, feelings run high. Party insiders spoken to by Stuff say they were ’’disgusted’’ on Barclay’s behalf at the way people were briefing against him.
‘‘Disgusting’’ is a word used by more than one Nat. But the sympathy is not universal; another insider spoken to by Stuff says Barclay treated his staff ‘‘appallingly’’.
Where things got messy
It might have stayed a local electorate dispute if Barclay hadn’t directed some of his attention to a National Party stalwart, and key member of the board, Glenda Hughes.
Hughes is the woman you want at your side when you have a massive PR headache - she advised broadcaster Tony Veitch when he was at the centre of a media storm over domestic abuse allegations.
She also advised equestrian Mark Todd when cocaine allegations emerged.
So she seems like the obvious go-to person to try and sort out the mess. Here is where things seem to get messy.
A persistent story doing the rounds is that Hughes travelled to Southland during that process.
But it appears Hughes was never there. National Party president Peter Goodfellow has confirmed, however, that Hughes - along with others - did talk to various players over many months.
The involvement of Hughes
Hughes is a former police woman and champion shot putter. She is also notoriously forthright, and extremely shrewd.
It’s alleged that Hughes told Dickson that if she didn’t withdraw the police complaint she could potentially take down the National Party and that a court case would be hard on her and her family.
Hughes could not be contacted for comment. But it would not be surprising if Hughes did warn Dickson how the story would likely play out.
Hughes is paid big money to second guess the media for her high profile clients. She would have seen it as her duty to Dickson to tell it like it is.
Ironically, Barclay appears to have become convinced Hughes was also undermining him. Caucus insiders have confirmed he led a small but determined group of MPs who tried to get Hughes off the board.
The campaign petered out and Hughes is expected to be re-elected this weekend.
English’s scars
But it is evidence of how a small local dispute has sent ripples through the entire party.
National’s composure has publicly slipped. The timing of Barclay’s resignation, and the events that forced it, have spooked many about what else might be lurking in wait for them on the campaign trail.
And it has inflicted scars on the leader, English.
This weekend’s annual conference was supposed to be a celebration of the seamless transition from one prime minister to the next, a chance to energise the grass roots and fine-tune the electorate machine.
But now they’ll be circling the wagons instead.