- V for Vegas
- Sep 1, 2004
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THUNDERDOME LOSER
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Great long form piece in the Oz on the 'Mediscare' campaign and how screwed the LNP campaign was
http://www.theaustralian.com.au/fed...cd6d15f447e692f [$]
quote:With the temperature outside fit to freeze, Malcolm Turnbull arrived at the Coalition’s campaign headquarters in Canberra at close to 1.45pm last Thursday. He had wrapped up a successful speech to the National Press Club and now he would thank excited campaign staff for their hard work.
They would win “with the luck of the gods”, he told the crowd as it gathered in a bland room adorned with a few posters on the wall. It was now up to the judgment of the Australian people. He added optimistically: “I think Labor’s lies have started to wear thin.”
Turnbull did not reveal the bad news he had just received. In a private office, party director Tony Nutt had walked the Prime Minister through the numbers. It was not a happy picture. The Coalition’s recovery in the polls had stalled. The advertising blackout had begun. They could not counter Labor’s ground campaign with mass union volunteers. And with seats up-ended by the exodus to independents, the outcome was unclear.
An hour later, on a RAAF jet back to Sydney, Turnbull was in a pensive mood. Seated in the forward cabin with its polished timber fittings and blue-leather seats he admitted to being tired. “I remain apprehensive,” he said. “It’s still pretty close. A whole bunch of seats are pretty close. What the net is, we don’t know.” Labor’s Medicare scare campaign was on his mind. “The Medicare lie is probably the worst … that’s obviously cost us some votes. It’s amazing how they got away with it.”
Three weeks earlier, Erinn Swan, head of digital at ALP campaign headquarters in Melbourne and the daughter of former treasurer Wayne Swan, had come up with a good idea. She could hardly have known that it would disrupt the Turnbull campaign’s economic mantra: “We have a plan.” Nor that it would help derail Turnbull’s smooth path to power. Or that it would expose weaknesses in the Liberal headquarters and suck almost two weeks out of the Prime Minister’s campaign.
In the end Swan’s good idea would become Labor’s campaign motif — right up to judgment day. Swan’s digital team had wanted to create a digital ad warning that the Coalition would wreck Medicare — after all, it was already looking to outsource some backroom functions. Protecting Medicare had already been on the grid of issues Labor deployed to attack Turnbull. But if it could get former prime minister Bob Hawke to front the ad, well, it just might fly.
Wright liked it. The digital team managed a list of about 300,000 email addresses, plus social media and digital advertising. Through this large email network, Labor now received small online donations that totalled twice the size of the largest single contribution from any trade union. A digital Medicare ad with Hawkie was a good idea. Wright phoned Hawke. He agreed — happy to be involved with the campaign — and a team flew to Sydney to film in the ALP’s Sydney office. They made a 90-second spot to use online and with supporters.
The spot went so well online that Wright had it cut to a 30-second ad for TV and took it out to focus groups. Again, it worked so well that Wright flew to Sydney to see Hawke to discuss running it as an ad on TV. He wanted to walk through the potential aggression the old campaigner might strike if the Coalition decided to go after him — with all its weapons. Could Hawke cope with that? Hawke waved it through.
The Medicare campaign was based on a projection from a premise: that because the government was outsourcing a small corner of Medicare, the whole lot could go. So far as Wright was concerned, this tapped a core weakness of the Coalition: that it did not support Medicare, or that it supported it only grudgingly while looking for ways around it. This was the fear to leverage.
The Hawke ad was launched on YouTube on June 11 and on TV on June 12. It ran as free as a rabbit in a field for nearly a week. “You don’t set up a Medicare privatisation taskforce unless you aim to privatise Medicare,” Hawke told viewers.
By June 16, fast-rising anxiety had gripped Victorian Liberal officials. Voters in marginal seats were responding to Hawke — and older voters, who pinned health as their top item, were raising concerns about Turnbull’s plans to privatise Medicare. Told it was not true, these voters still thought it sounded right. Turnbull had no such plans. But it was too late. The Hawke ad had bitten deeply.
The party’s activist Victorian president Michael Kroger and his state deputy, Simon Frost, decided to push Coalition campaign headquarters to act — they needed a rebuttal and it had to be fast. Some of the state directors were already concerned about whether the campaign was too lifeless, with its clinical jobs and growth message. Labor’s Medicare ad was biting in Victoria.
Frost raised it at the 7.30 morning conference between state directors and Nutt, and pressed for action. The Victorians thought the feds should have been on to it instantly to crush Labor’s credibility before the Medicare story developed a life of its own. Kroger was understood to have raised his concerns with Foreign Minister Julie Bishop. She too, would take it up on a CHQ conference call.
The Coalition had not anticipated Shorten would turn Medicare into a giant privatisation scare. It was unprepared. Suddenly the challenge was to rebut it while not spending too much time on it — thus ending up fighting on Labor’s turf. It had to get back on to safe territory with its own message about the plan.
On Saturday, June 18, and clearly suffering from a cold or flu, Turnbull struck back, vehemently declaring the Medicare scare to be an outrageous, bizarre lie. But he revealed how far Labor had already bitten, announcing that he would dump plans to outsource Medicare’s back-office operations. Medicare would “never, ever” be privatised, he said.
Turnbull looked and sounded authentic, angry and honest, repudiating the Labor attack. But it was too late. He would be forced to fight the mirage of Medicare privatisation until the final breath of the campaign.
When Wright’s headquarters team saw Turnbull abandoning the taskforce they were stoked. They were in a fight and they had taken a major win. It would be a turning point in Labor’s campaign.
The next day, Sunday, June 19, Shorten went after Turnbull again over Medicare at the Labor campaign launch. No mind that the Coalition had no plans to privatise Medicare, the story was now embedded with the public and Shorten intended to water it. Turnbull could not be trusted, he told the party faithful and TV viewers. There was already a taskforce and other inquiries into Medicare. “Piece by piece, brick by brick, the Libs want to tear it down,” Shorten roared.
One senior member of Turnbull’s team said later: “It wasn’t until someone got the AMA to come out, that we got any traction.” New AMA president Michael Gannon rejected the idea that the government had plans. But his impact as a supportive third party did not last long. Labor, after all, had the health unions.
On June 20, Wright fired up his “never, ever” ad with a quick cascade of grabs of former prime minister John Howard declaring he would not introduce a GST “never, ever, it’s dead”, followed by Tony Abbott promising “no cuts to education, no cuts to health” and concluding with Turnbull: “Medicare will never, ever be privatised.” It was honey for an adman. The voiceover rolled: “Now he wants to privatise Medicare.” The finale was simple: The Liberals say one thing and do another.
It rammed home the message succinctly.
On June 21, the ABC’s 7.30 ran the story, following the row between the parties. Presenter Leigh Sales told viewers that the Coalition had no plans to privatise Medicare, and yet Labor said it could not be believed — given past form on breaking promises. Two nights later Shorten appeared on the program when Sales pressed him to put his hand on his heart “and say the Coalition has a policy to privatise Medicare”.
Shorten responded that the election would determine the future of Medicare. And with that, Labor cemented its pitch.
Through to election day, “save Medicare” rallies would spring up at short notice with union volunteers, and Shorten’s “Bill Bus” would roll into marginal seats to “save Medicare”.
The pressures caused by the Medicare scare opened up a number of other fissures in the Coalition campaign, in particular concern over finances.
Money had become a sore point. The confusing manoeuvres between Turnbull and Treasurer Scott Morrison on economic policy in the months leading up to the election had disappointed and angered donors in the business community.
Many had been aghast at the on-off nature of debates, such as raising the goods and services tax and the overnight elevation and equally swift dumping of Turnbull’s proposal to overhaul federal-state taxes.
Turnbull had described this as the most fundamental reform to the Constitution in generations. It was gone in two days.
There had been evident strains between the Prime Minister and the Treasurer. There was speculation over Morrison’s future prime ministerial pretensions and ambitions, notwithstanding he was still attempting to come to grips with his Treasury portfolio. Some big donors had sat on their hands after this. Many disapproved of business tax cuts aimed eventually for the pockets of offshore conglomerates. And once the budget had cracked down on superannuation concessions, the list of aggrieved Coalition supporters only grew longer.
Money was still raised from some big donors but generational change in the wealthiest families had reduced this buffer. The younger generation was not so keen to give.
The party had a new federal treasurer, an honorary position, in Andrew Burnes, a travel industry businessman. His connections with the deep pockets of industry could never rival some of his predecessors, particularly given the deep disenchantment with politics, although party insiders felt he had made an excellent start. But they would need more than a good start.
In January, Turnbull contacted Ron Walker, the party’s greatest fundraiser, who had retired several years ago after a commitment of 15 years as treasurer. They met at the end of that month at Treasury Place in Melbourne.
Turnbull wanted everything possible in the saddlebags for the election and he asked Walker to open his legendary contact book to help Burnes where possible.
On March 7, Walker hosted a private lunch for Turnbull at the Athenaeum Club in Melbourne. The Prime Minister was re-establishing himself with a small group of businessmen with influence and connections. Moreover, they were closely connected to the party. They included Hugh Morgan, Charles Goode and John Calvert-Jones, all directors of the Liberal Party’s Cormack Foundation, a long-time investment vehicle that provides funds to the party.
Walker hosted another lunch for Nutt in the same vein later that month.
The Cormack Foundation would be closely watched by different divisions of the Liberal Party — keen for its cash. Cormack was established in the 1980s after the Liberal Party sold radio station 3XY and invested the $12 million proceeds in blue-chip stocks. It has earned multiple millions of dollars in dividends over the years, steered by a group of sharp-eyed directors. Chaired by former Western Mining boss Morgan, the board includes Goode, former chairman of ANZ and Woodside; stockbroker Calvert-Jones; Fred Grimwade, formerly at Western Mining and now a principal at Fawkner Capital; and Peter Hay, chairman of Newcrest Mining.
It includes a preponderance of lawyers, a handy defence during regular arguments with party officials over where the money should be directed.
As recently as two weeks ago, insiders at the Coalition CHQ in Canberra were complaining bitterly that Cormack had promised them more than $2m for the campaign but that this money had been slashed after Kroger insisted it belonged instead to the Victorian party, which was still trying to get itself out of the hole caused by a major fraud in the branch office.
Cormack, which is understood to have a policy of distributing only dividends, declined to comment. But close observers in the party say that the tradition has always been to provide strong support for the maintenance of the Victorian branch — and to occasionally make funds available to the federal party.
After substantial payments, disclosed under electoral laws, Cormack has expended most if its cash for now on the clutch of elections over recent years.
It is understood Kroger had already argued that any money available should go to the Victorian division, but was rebuffed by the board. The federal party argued for more. Nutt’s federal office wanted $2m, but the sum provided was closer to $1m.
Nutt was forced to go off-air with his TV advertising for two or three days in the third-last week of the campaign. One furious insider declared: “If we’d had the money it would have been about losing less than five seats at that time.” Instead there were 10 in play.
From the other side of the pond, there was no concession that the Coalition appeared to have financial troubles. By the last week of the campaign Wright believed Turnbull himself must be footing the bill given the scale of advertising running nightly.
Labor’s campaign, outside the Medicare fight, fell into its own hole after the release of the policy costings on June 26 which showed deeper and longer deficits than Turnbull had revealed. It fed into the argument, with shades of Tony Abbott, that Labor was all about debt and deficits, taxing and spending.
On the same day as the Labor costings bombshell almost halted Shorten’s campaign, Wright launched his “Out of Touch” ad. It was designed to attack Turnbull by implying that his personal wealth was a barrier to his ability to understand everyday worries. “Maybe it’s because he never had to rely on these services that Malcolm Turnbull would make a decision to cut health, education and Medicare, cuts to pensions and family payments, and talk up a GST. Malcolm Turnbull is just seriously out of touch.”
They had tested the ads with focus groups, finetuning, and the response had been excellent. But at one group, one member told the questioner, Turnbull’s not just out of touch, he’s seriously out of touch. Wright added the word to the mix and tested the ad again. This time it went off the charts.
Many had expected the Turnbull-versus-Shorten battle would be a bloodless affair. Even the calling of the election had no excitement, no fanfare. It dribbled in, like a light rain that had dried by noon. It was in line with Nutt’s strategy to portray Turnbull as a steady and competent manager of the nation in a time of uncertainty — but with a plan. No hoo-has and pompoms, as they expected Labor to turn on.
Still there was an undercurrent between the two men, a note of class war. Turnbull, the son of a single father, and Shorten, the son of a single mother, had worn their ambition like incandescent tattoos. Turnbull had reached the top of the business ladder, Shorten had reached the top of the labour ladder. With their broad foreheads, wide smiles and self-determination born of emotional fortitude, each had always intended to be prime minister one day. Turnbull had torn down predecessor Abbott to get there; Shorten had officiated at the political death of his own two predecessors. But he remained a step away from power — as far away as the heartbeat of a nation.
Neither man’s story bore the Shakespearean drama of the momentous clash of 1996 between Paul Keating and John Howard, two of the most talented politicians to stalk the stage. Labor’s 13 years of rule under Hawke and Keating had given way to the shock of Howard’s victory, which he in turn carried to 11 years as prime minister. That clash resounded with blows as they fought each other to the finish line.
Turnbull visited the Governor-General on May 8. In truth, he had called the election three weeks earlier, on April 19, when he announced it — as a second order of business — during a photo op in Canberra. He was not actually calling an election, he said at the time, but Australia would go to the polls for a double-dissolution election on July 2. The budget would be delivered on May 3. Turnbull had committed the country to an eight-week campaign. Purists would call it a 10-week campaign, dating from Turnbull’s first announcement on April 19. Either way, and beyond the semantics, it was going to kill everyone involved. In a perspicacious comment, Peta Credlin, former chief of staff to Abbott, declared in her first newspaper column: “You are probably all sick of it and it’s barely started.”
Many eyes and ears would be tuned to Credlin and Abbott. Would they disrupt the campaign? Would Abbott white-ant Turnbull, transforming 2016 into a rerun of 2010 when Kevin Rudd had undercut Julia Gillard’s campaign. Each knifing had begat more future knifings. No one truly believed the cycle of bloodletting could stop.
Turnbull had begun a fall from grace with the electorate. After a political honeymoon with matchless poll numbers, Turnbull had appeared initially to be some kind of golden figure. But it was not to be sustained — it was a honeymoon, it was rose-coloured glasses, it was dreams, it was an illusion.
The Newspoll that signalled Turnbull’s sharp fall from public favour was a devastating blow to his supporters and all of those who had backed his tilt against Abbott. The front page of The Australian on April 5 had news that sent a shudder through the party: “Turnbull surrenders lead.”
In a bit over two months, Turnbull’s satisfaction rating had crashed 15 points from a post-honeymoon high. Far more ominous was the headline number: Labor was ahead 51-49 per cent in two-party terms, reversing the polls at the start of the year that had the Coalition ahead, 53 to 47 per cent. It was just seven months since Turnbull had challenged Abbott.
When finally Turnbull approached the Governor-General on May 8, Jacqui Lambie, the troublesome independent senator from Tasmania, declared that the Prime Minister had turned Mother’s Day into Turnbull Day.
To the myriad questions thrown by reporters through that day, Turnbull responded that it was an exciting time to be an Australian, that a double dissolution would mean rolling back lawless building unions with the restoration of the watchdog Australian Building and Construction Commission, and, on a positive note, that he looked forward to several campaign debates with Shorten.
Abbott, vanquished, seemed to stay mostly below the radar.
Every now and then, he materialised suddenly on television, perhaps an interview with a true believer from his camp, or a bright wave from a candidate launch for the cameras.
But his followers in the party had barely kept their claws gloved as Turnbull walked on water in the months following the coup.
With the election imminent and Turnbull’s popularity dented after the messy economic debates over the GST and other matters, the party seemed poised for a secondary war between its two prime ministers in addition to the battle between Turnbull, the Prime Minister, and Shorten, the challenger. There could be three potential prime ministers in this fight if Abbott chose to argue his own policy positions from the sidelines.
Credlin, seen still by many as Abbott’s forward guard, rattled Turnbull’s cage early, referring to him as Mr Harbourside Mansion on Sky, where she had a new role as an election commentator.
Abbott mostly took to the road, attending campaign launches, helping candidates, shaking hands and smiling. In the final stretch of the election, he could be found wandering along the main street in Brighton-Le-Sands near Sydney airport.
Clad in navy, he strolled with Nick Varvaris, the federal member for Barton, who would go on to lose his seat to Labor’s Linda Burney four days later. “Hey, it’s Tony Abbott,” a couple of big guys said, rushing for a selfie with the former PM. “We’ll definitely be voting Liberal.”
Abbott found a baby to chat to, its enthralled owner happy to stop for a photo. Abbott, making small talk, trying out the fish and chips, walking alone without the entourage of prime ministerial office, looked strangely disconnected. He kept his thoughts to himself. V for Vegas fucked around with this message at 01:31 on Jul 4, 2016
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Jun 1, 2016 01:30
