Jokey, blokey John is just a distant memory
Is once unflappable Key’s faulty recall really a political shield?
POLITICS IS a corrosive business and eventually, one way or another, it marks its protagonists. Whether it is with a disfiguring scar or glowing halo, the question of legacy is one that sooner or later greets them all. It often pertains to a particular moment which only in later years asserts its significance, while time and history distil it down to a single, memorable phrase.
Take the stoic resolve of Winston Churchill rallying his embattled nation during the early years of World War II, as the prospect of a German invasion of Britain began to look possible, and which has come to define the ‘‘Churchillian’’ spirit: ‘‘We will fight them on the beaches . . . ’’
Or John F Kennedy’s appeal to national unity and pride in his celebrated inauguration speech of 1961: ‘‘Ask not what your country can do for you – ask what you can do for your country.’’
There was Martin Luther King’s visionary 1963 oration in which he appealed to his nation’s conscience for tolerance, fairness and racial equality with the immortal line: ‘‘I have a dream . . .’’
Or Margaret Thatcher’s Boadicea-like incantation in defence of her government’s neoliberal economic policies during her 1980 address to the British Conservative Party: ‘‘You turn if you want to. The lady’s not for turning.’’
Closer to home, there was David Lange’s famous 1988 call for a pause in what he had begun to see as the depredations of Rogernomics: ‘‘Time for a cuppa.’’
And our current Prime Minister John Key? What would history preserve as his signature phrase? Could it possibly be: ‘‘I can’t remember . . .’’
Key has cultivated and enjoyed a reputation for straight-talking with a little wit thrown in for good measure – jokey, blokey, honest John. The brand, after the bland, controlled and somewhat humourless presentation of his predecessor, Helen Clark, has served him well.
It may continue to do so, but it took a ding last week as he had a memory lapse or two.
First there was his exact position on the vote over raising the drinking age. When confronted by a poll suggesting a majority of New Zealanders supported raising the drinking age back to 20, he implied he shared that view and had voted that way himself.
In fact, while he had supported the split alcohol purchase age initially, his final vote was to retain the age at 18.
But it was yet another tentacle of the Dotcom saga, the political gift that keeps on giving, creating havoc at every turn, that threatens to do lasting damage to Key. The embrace of the corpulent Dotcom has already all but suffocated the political life out of the internet entrepreneur’s former friend, Act party leader John Banks.
Last week the affair saw a top spy sent home on ‘‘gardening leave’’; the leader of the opposition David Shearer floundering in the wake of his apparently unproveable Government Communications Security Bureau (GCSB) video recording allegations; and Key having to make a personal statement to Parliament.
This is a rare event and is widely regarded as an opportunity to rectify an incorrect account previously made to the House. It’s a chance, as it were, to return to the witness box and correct an untruth.
As such it falls into a category of political misdemeanour altogether different from the spin and slant that accompanies almost all political information these days. A personal statement is about truth, lies and personal integrity.
The nub of the matter was whether Key was first informed of GCSB’s illegal role in spying on Dotcom on September 17, as he told the House; or whether, in fact, he had been previously briefed on it by the spy agency when he visited the bureau in February.
Last week Key, who alone as prime minister has oversight of the agency, acknowledged he was briefed on Dotcom and the agency’s role in surveillance during the February visit, but that he did not recall this. And since his answer to previous questions was based on his recollection at the time, ‘‘there was no intention to mislead the House’’. Hmmmm.
Has an increasingly faulty memory become a political shield of choice for the once unflappable, refreshingly frank prime minister? It would be a shame were history’s distillation of the Key leadership to zero in on these ‘‘lapses’’. But on the strength of last week’s performance, and the associated evidence, it wouldn’t be altogether unjust.