THE MERCURY colunist Wayne Crawford has produced the first arms-length analysis of Cheeky: Confessions of a Ferret Salesman
Here’s some of what he says:
It is something never before attempted by a journalist-turned-politician …
Cheek clearly is not concerned who he offends in the interests of telling the truth as he sees it. He’s got a lot off his chest in what was obviously a cathartic experience to confront demons which had left him a humiliated and broken man —
He paints a picture of a totally dysfunctional Liberal Party in Tasmania. And although the present leader Rene Hidding claims the book highlights just how far the Liberals have moved in reforming themselves since Cheek led them to their worst election result in nearly 100 years, chances are the damage from Cheeky: Confessions of a Ferret Salesman will be fatal to whatever slight chance the Liberals might have had of making any sort of a comeback in the election next year.
It’s one thing for Cheek to drop a bucket on those who were his political opponents — such as describing former premier the late Jim Bacon (who has been virtually sanctified since his tragic death from lung cancer) as “vicious, obsessive, dangerous … a compulsive hater” who mouthed obscenities across the House of Assembly chamber; and Premier Paul Lennon as “the archetypal bully and thug” but who was a workhorse, Labor’s best parliamentary performer, and who at least would have a beer with you after a parliamentary debate was finished (unlike Bacon who wouldn’t even shake Cheek’s hand at the televised election debate).
But it’s another matter entirely for the former Liberal Leader to be telling tales out of school about his former colleagues — of how his successor in the leadership Rene Hidding is a former bankrupt (discharged in 1984) who avoids taking on economic or financial portfolios or shadow portfolios because his past might backfire; and how a complaint by a female Liberal staffer about Hidding’s behaviour towards her at an office drinks function had been raised at a parliamentary party meeting. (Hidding has since claimed it was all an innocent misunderstanding, had been cleared up amicably, and that the staff member had even apologised for the fuss caused at the time).
Of how Special Minister of State Senator Eric Abetz — a “balding, hawkish Howard minister with a voice like a dripping tap” — is arguably the most unpopular politician in Tasmania but has become the Liberals’ kingmaker by virtue of knowing how to work the party organisation to his own ends and has become so powerful that only the foolhardy would ever consider crossing him.
Hidding was crying foul this week about so-called gutter tactics*, but Cheek was sticking by “every word” of his book and even challenged Hidding — or anyone else affronted or offended by what he’d written — to “make my day” and sue him. There was, he said, plenty more that he hadn’t included in the book and which would be even more embarrassing to those involved if it came out in a court case.
In a remarkable pre-emptive strike, Hidding wrote to Cheek before the book was even off the presses, threatening to sue him for everything he had if he felt aggrieved by what Cheek had written. (From the office of Rene Hidding)Cheek, a former journalist who as a businessman has built up what is described on the book’s jacket as a “fortune”, was unfazed and invited Hidding to go for it.
What made Hidding look either foolish or nervously guilty was that at the stage he made the threat, nobody apart from Cheek and a few confidantes had any idea what was in the book. It begged the question, what had Hidding done to make him so nervous? Was there something he was trying to hide?
But what is most striking is Cheek’s experience on the three major issues which defined his leadership — forestry where his gentle questioning of the logic of clearfelling centuries-old forests caused a terrifying tsunami of wrath from the industry; shop trading hours where he fought unsuccessfully to protect corner shops against the open-slather demands of the major supermarket duopoly chains; and Bass Strait shipping, where his appeal to at least investigate the prospect of using one of the new generation of super-cats from local builder Incat caused a mutiny. On all three issues he discovered that in Tasmania, what big business wants, big business will get; and that regional rivalries will always prevail over the common state-wide good.
It is, he writes, not the Government, but the Tourism Council of Tasmania (TCT) — with its exalted position because of the importance of tourism to the economy — which runs Tasmania. And it is influential businesses such as the powerful Federal Hotels — with a stranglehold on the fragile Tasmanian economy — which dominate the TCT.
Even allowing for the distortions caused by Cheek’s painful and humiliating experience in politics, his story from the inside is still unique and a valuable insight which illuminates corners of a secret world where the unwritten, unspoken rule of the insider has always been not to spoil things by dobbing on your mates.
I doubt Cheek will have many mates left in politics after this, but the rest of Tasmania owes him a debt of gratitude.
Contact Wayne Crawford at: [email protected]
Hagnote: *Well, Rene’s right about that. One brief innocuous ref in Cheeky’s book and Tassie’s Pravda unit populated by former journalists, the Government Media Unit, would have licked its lips. First revved-up goss conduit through the old mates’ network would have been The Oz (Page 3 Thurs), then it would have been drinkies at Teev with much back-slapping and mirth as Rene squirmed.
All perfectly normal practice … think Richard Butler …
Christian Kerr of Crikey produced an interesting piece during the week, titled, Who skewered Greg Barns’s candidacy?
Greg Barns’s candidacy for the Tasmanian state Liberals in 2002 was always going to be touchy, but there was a lot riding on it. Everyone knew Barns was volatile. But he was also media savvy, a media tart and a media darling with a national profile after the republic campaign.
The plan went something like this: get Barns in to the Tasmanian parliament, make him leader quick smart and establish a counterpoint to the “Liberal” philosophy coming out of Canberra.
Of course, it all ended up in tears when Barns’ campaign for refugees led to his disendorsement.
The conservative Tasmanian powerbroker Eric Abetz was the bloke who did the deed – but was he just a hired assassin? That’s where former state Liberal leader Bob Cheek’s newly-released memoirs are interesting.
Cheek says Barns did himself no favours with his comments: “In Parliament, Premier Bacon couldn’t contain his delight that Barns, supposedly the Liberal’s star candidate, was wreaking such havoc. ‘I’m glad he’s your candidate, not ours,’ Bacon mocked. ‘You can have him.’ I rang Barns and tried to reason with him. ‘I defend your right to your views but have the good sense to can it before the federal poll so you don’t damage Howard,’ I said. ‘And keep the personal criticism of Howard out of it.'”
Barns wouldn’t and didn’t. “Howard duly won the November 10, 2001, poll. But Tasmania performed poorly and the five Federal House of Representatives seats remained firmly in Labor hands. Many state Liberals, looking for a scapegoat, unfairly blamed Barns …”
Who wanted Barns out? Cheek talks about “pressure from the PM down.” He says “my phone ran hot with calls from Howard’s office and the Federal Liberal Party director, Lynton Crosby, urging me to get rid of this habitual troublemaker.
” ‘He’s bad news, he’s caused trouble wherever he’s gone and you’ll get the same treatment if you endorse him,’ Crosby warned in a well meaning phone call. I liked and got on well with Crosby, but unfortunately I shrugged off his advice as skewed to suit the occasion, anyway, refugee policy was a federal issue.
“Meanwhile, Tasmania’s only minister, Senator Abetz, a Howard loyalist and at the opposite end of the political spectrum to Barns, was leading a huge push in Tasmania to stop Barns’march towards endorsement. He had plenty of mates. Most Liberals had been willing to give Barns a chance, but they drew the line at personal criticism of Howard. He was losing support fast and Abetz urged me to toss him overboard.
” ‘I’m telling you the PM and all his Ministers are very upset and want him out,’ Abetz constantly opined ……”
In the end, a meeting of the Tasmanian Liberal state executive was held at Campbell Town, halfway between Hobart and Launceston, to consider disciplinary action against Barns.
By this stage it was easy to claim that Barns was point scoring against his own party — using his criticisms of the Prime Minister and then Immigration Minister Philip Ruddock to boost his own profile — when he should have been commenting on State issues as a State candidate.
Barns was asked to attend to show cause why he shouldn’t be disendorsed, the penalty under the party constitution for his comments. He conducted himself poorly.
When he left, meeting proceeded to a vote. State president Doug Chipman was in the chair and moved that the meeting consider the disciplinary action. Abetz was notably quiet during the debate but others of his group took the lead.
The vote that followed was not overwhelmingly, but solidly, behind the disendorsement action, Tasmanian Liberal Party sources say. One person who attended describes it as “a reluctant action by the party”. “Everyone lost that day,” they said.
Barns told Crikey today that he was “anathema to the Prime Minister after the ARM.” He says these events occurred “at a period when they were foaming at the mouth over refugees — it was convenient for Abetz that he was able to work Crosby and Howard’s office.”
Interestingly, Barns recalls a meeting with Cheek the former leader does not mention where they spoke about refugees and where Cheek gave him an “OK” to continue speaking out on the issues.
But Barns says “I’ve got no doubt” that the Prime Minister was behind his dumping.
That’s the message we get from Cheek, too — but in fairness the chain of events went something like this: Howard gave Abetz a knife and all he had to do was hold it pointing outwards. Barns impaled himself. A rather messy episode all round.
Who skewered Greg Barns’ candidacy
Christian Kerr also has an interesting piece on pollies’ memoirs and the question of character:
Iron Mark? Cheeky Bob? Listen up.
“Virtue” has been big business in the US since conservative commentator William J Bennet published his “treasury of great moral stories” The Book of Virtues back in 1996. It’s spawned a sanctimony industry of its very own – but also sparked some interesting dialogue.
Part of this is contained in a journal called In Character, which “seeks to illuminate the nature and power of the everyday virtues – and how these virtues shape our vision of the good life.” Too much? Hold on a moment. The current issue carries an article that may be of interesting to a few Australian pols. It’s called To Thine Own Self Be True: What Tell-all Memoirs Tell Us About Ourselves, by Christine Rosen.
In his book, Authority, sociologist Richard Sennett begins with an observation that at first glance appears obvious: Without the ties of loyalty, authority, and fraternity,’ he writes, ‘no society as a whole, and none of its institutions, could long function.’ Sennett links loyalty to authority and fraternity for a reason — as a virtue, loyalty cannot exist in isolation. Historically, it has always been tied inextricably to institutions, to authority, and to traditions. Authority is ‘a bond between people who are unequal,’ Sennett reminds us, and it was this bond that formed the basis for lasting loyalty: the reciprocal loyalty of landowner and tenant, lord and serf, and sovereign and knight
But loyalty need not be felt only toward other human beings; a person can exercise loyalty toward a high ideal, an institution, a country, and a faith — often all at the same time. There are, it seems, no natural limits to loyalty. But as times and mores change, and as respect for authority and hierarchy declines, what becomes of loyalty? Can it continue to exist without ties to its traditional sources of legitimacy? After all, no one used to ask (to borrow the title of a recent book about the Bush administration) the price of loyalty; they noticed only its presence or absence. In earlier ages, disloyalty to his superior could cost a man his life. Until recently, it could cost him his job. Today, however, it will almost certainly land him a book contract. It is worth asking, then, if we have developed a more sophisticated and flexible concept of loyalty to suit the times, or if we are, instead, witnessing the last vestiges of loyalty succumb to the inexorable forces of market democracy
Got you interested? The article is available: HERE
