We are now seeing an apparent resurgence of the middle powers in Australian party politics: the Nationals, the junior Coalition partner, which is to the right of the Liberals, and the Greens, to the left of Labor.
Subscribe now for unlimited access.
$0/
(min cost $0)
or signup to continue reading
This is a new twist to the story of the Abbott/Turnbull Coalition government, which has so far largely featured a battle between the Liberals and Labor in the House of Representatives, on the one hand, and between the government and the eight crossbench independent and micro-party senators on the other. That's where the biggest personalities have been found: not just Abbott, Turnbull and Bill Shorten, but also Clive Palmer, Jacqui Lambie, Nick Xenophon, David Leyonhjelm and the rest.
That was all about the major and micro powers. Now the middle powers are making a comeback. It is a revised lesson in how the Australian political system works.
The key events have been the two leadership changes this year: the moves from Abbott to Turnbull and from Christine Milne to Richard Di Natale. A third move, away from Warren Truss, may be in the offing.
The Nationals have been edging away from the Liberals, or from another perspective, the centre of gravity of the Liberals has shifted towards the centre while the Nationals have remained firmly on the right.
The Greens, for their part, are giving greater emphasis to dealing with the government. They have set out to be more flexible, reacting against a community perception that under Milne they were too immovable. Like Turnbull with the Liberals, Di Natale with the Greens is attempting to change both the vibe and the substance of his party. As with Turnbull the vibe comes first and is easier to change than the substance.
The first evidence that the Nationals were flexing their muscles was their participation in the notorious joint party room discussion of same-sex marriage which led to the decision to hold a plebiscite rather than a parliamentary vote. That annoyed many centrist Liberals.
Then when Turnbull overthrew Abbott the Nationals took their chance to rewrite the Liberal-National Coalition agreement. When deal-making in the Federal Parliament is discussed, and often denigrated as undemocratic, this key deal is often forgotten.
Turnbull was held to ransom. He agreed to certain conservative conditions, relating to water, climate change and same-sex marriage. This too flew under the radar to a certain extent in the midst of popular euphoria surrounding Turnbull's ascension.
The Nationals have also been backing the move by the Queensland state Labor government to re-regulate the sugar industry at the same time as Turnbull and Andrew Robb have been enthusiastically singing from the free-trade song sheet.
Finally, the Nationals began discussions with several Liberals, including Ian Macfarlane, Natasha Griggs and Scott Buchholz, about switching parties to bolster their numbers. Under the Coalition agreement greater numbers would mean greater ministerial representation. Macfarlane, smarting from his omission from Turnbull's new ministry, set out to manipulate his way back into the cabinet.
It remains to be seen whether he is successful, but it has demonstrated an opportunistic willingness by the Nationals leader, Truss, to engage in such discussions. No amount of dissembling can disguise the fact that Macfarlane has been self-serving and the Nationals have been willing to destabilise the Coalition.
The whole episode shows what a strange beast the Coalition, that permanent feature of Australian politics, actually is. That is where real deals are done, much more quietly than those that Julia Gillard did to form her minority government. Not only is it a permanent deal between two allied parties which retain real cultural and policy differences, but it is actually one party, the Liberal National Party, in Queensland (as well as one party, the Country Liberal Party, in the Northern Territory). What is going on inside the Queensland LNP to decide Macfarlane's future makes a mockery of stable federal government.
The Greens did try to do some deals with the Abbott government, including suggesting an amendment to Abbott's paid parental leave scheme, but Di Natale, backed by his parliamentary caucus, has projected much greater enthusiasm for such deals.
The current example is his agreement to a softer version of the taxation transparency laws under which the tax paid by big private companies would be made public. This bill had a long and controversial history as the government attempted to undo Labor's scheme requiring companies with revenues of more than $100 million to lodge publicly available financial statements.
After initially refusing to back the government's plan to scrap the law, the Greens settled for a compromise: the cut-off would be raised to $200 million, letting two-thirds of the 900 companies in question off the hook. Labor accused the Greens of "selling out" to the government at a time when the government wanted to press ahead with its own multinational tax avoidance bill, which also needed Senate support.
When is a "sensible compromise" actually selling out by striking a soft deal? It is a matter of perspective; but the Greens run real risks when they grasp opportunities to negotiate solo with the government. Effectively it is negotiation not just with the Liberals but with the Nationals too. That is what the Coalition means.
Unlike the Democrats before them, the Greens are not conducting a more natural negotiation from centre stage, but from an ideological edge. They must always be aware of the danger of appearing to be co-opted and of moving away from the values held by their voting base.
Deals are central to Australian party politics. The latest round now involves the middle powers negotiating with the super powers.
John Warhurst is an emeritus professor of political science at the Australian National University.
