THERE could hardly be a greater contrast between two politicians than Bill Clinton and Mark Latham. Both faced a campaign of slurs and innuendo about their sexual (and in Clinton’s case, financial) conduct.
In Latham’s case, some scuttlebut was circulated over a period of six years around the Canberra ‘beltway’, making a fleeting appearance in the media before the 2004 election.
In Clinton’s case, one allegation (that was correct) and many, many other untrue slurs about his sexual and financial dealings were circulated, over at least fifteen years, in the largest global media outlets, in at least 180 countries, for most of which time, his face was the most recognisable on the planet.
At the material times, Latham was leader of the opposition in a distant and medium-sized country in the South-West Pacific, a position in which he made decisions affecting the electoral prospects of the Labor opposition.
Clinton was 42nd President of the United States of America, a position in which he made decisions in the domestic sphere affecting almost 300 million people and foreign policy decisions that decisively shaped lives in Central America, the Balkans, Africa, the Middle East (and not implausibly, many more lives, in an indirect way, in all parts of the world).
‘Campaign’ is probably too strong a word for what Latham faced; he faced some rumours that were loosely coordinated (if at all) by three or four ageing ALP hacks.
Clinton faced a sophisticated and vicious campaign, funded in the millions of dollars, by many of the brightest political operators on earth.
But there was a difference between Clinton and Latham. One was a giver to, and the other, a taker from the public sphere. One was committed to the sacrifices demanded by public service and the other was a man nourished, throughout his adult life, on the teat through which flows taxpayer and union salaries to those who regard public service as qualitatively indistinct from any other job.
After he left office, one continued to be exercised by acute problems of health, social and economic disadvantage around the globe, and continues to work towards his political ends.
After calculating that the personal cost/benefit analysis involved in public service had finally swung against him after the 2004 election, the other simply took leave in order to do nothing. (“I’m a home dad now, Tony.” “Andrew, did I mention I’m now deliriously happy as a home dad?”).
After Latham’s election to the ALP leadership in December 2003, I wrote a piece in which were raised serious questions about Latham’s capabilities, competence and personality. It was published later, in TasmanianTimes.com:
READ HERE: The Latham ascendancy: ersatz intellectuals, violence and suburbia in Australian politics
His strange demise and breathtakingly selfish (yet simultaneously pathetic) infliction of great injury to the Labor Party’s electoral prospects came as no surprise to me.
By way of redeeming features, the second half of Latham’s interview on Lateline gave us a glimpse of the promise some of the gullible had seen in him. In recounting the stories of the Campbelltown removalist with an investment property and the woman who asked to borrow the Fin Review ‘market wrap’ after jumping on the train at working class East Hills, Latham demonstrated an understanding that the world has changed since 1970 and that those changes involve practical difficulties for social democratic parties.
Head in the sand
Many in his party fail to demonstrate recognition or understanding of that problem: Simon Crean, Wayne Swan and Doug Cameron are among them. If Latham didn’t have his head in the sand, it didn’t stop him from making serious miscalculations related to such changes, such as the way in which he articulated Labor’s policy on private schools.
Perhaps, that is the best we can say about Latham: that he didn’t have his head in the sand. There are some others in the Labor movement who do not.
Lindsay Tanner, whose book is like Latham’s Civilising Global Capital, except that it is well-written and intelligent, is one, although he is from the wrong faction to his party. Bob McMullan, one of the most thoughtful of Labor’s federal caucus, has his physical similarity to John Howard, as well as factional politics against him: the next Labor prime minister will be a sharp, physical break from Howard when the electorate feels that it’s time.
The faux working class inflections of Julia Gillard will not overcome her factional difficulties and her aspirations for leadership have been dealt a cruel blow by Latham’s endorsement.
Many years ago, when I watched him address the National Press Club, I formed the view that AWU general secretary Bill Shorten would be the next Labor prime minister. He too, though, has been tainted by factional wrangling sufficiently to cop a bucketing in Latham’s Diaries himself. Of the present front bench, the stylish, articulate and bright Stephen Smith may be Labor’s best prospect.
During Lateline’s pre-interview story on the Latham Diaries, one very revealing piece of footage was shown. It was brief footage of Latham, as opposition leader, walking through a doorway with another man. There are moments when body language and a viewer’s reactions to a visual medium give away a lot. It may be that my eye just followed my own interests, although the utter dominance of the other man in the doorway, walking alongside Latham was obvious in the latter’s deferential, almost schoolboy stance in his presence.
The other man was immaculately dressed and attractive, exuding masterful confidence.
It was Paul Keating.
Keating once ran on a one word slogan, Leadership.
The times were with John Howard and it was unsuccessful but its importance remains. The Labor Party must find a capital-L Leader. Until it does, it will not govern Australia.
