Dialogue: Greens battle growing pains in their search for consensus

By VERNON SMALL

My name's Vernon, and I spent a weekend with the Green Party.

I confess I ate vegan food and organic fruit, drank (gulp) organic beer and a nice pinot noir.

But if you think the Greens are a soft lot, of touchy-feely political correctness and recycling your own waste, you might just miss the point.

Sure, they are so steeped in gender equity that they have co-leaders and co-conveners (which other parties call presidents).

True, it is the only parliamentary party whose leader delivers her keynote speech dressed in sandshoes and a warm woolly-pully.

Yes, its love of consensus means it needs four-day annual conferences to get through its business, where other parties take less than two.

On Saturday, that meant hours of debate ending in a no-confidence vote for both male candidates for post of co-convener, and an irresolvable mathematical micro-debate about the way to select the Green list.

But the range of delegates with such a diversity of barrows to push - from GE food, to electoral reform, to peace, to animal rights, to the environment - means the debates are at times more brutal and more open than the big parties have allowed themselves since the mid 1980s.

Perhaps the party is not yet used to such a big media presence but it was willing to air most of its laundry in public. The resulting spectacle belies the acres of woollen pullovers and the tree-hugging image.

Criticism of individuals was robust to the point of cruelty - what one senior adviser described as "emotional grenades." The acrid smell of passive aggression was everywhere behind the "greenspeak."

For instance: "Do you think you are sufficiently bicultural" probably means, "I fear you are a racist redneck."

"Have we reached consensus yet?" translates as, "Have you bloody-minded guys in an obvious minority accepted the fact?"

While much of the process can be put down to growing pains - they are "green" as well as "Green" - the product is important in the broader political landscape.

The party's place at the top of the minor party tree, and its poll position to join Labour in Government after next year's election, gives it a crucial role.

But the Greens' rapid success can veil the truth that they are still a movement rather than a political party.

Saturday's debate over the male co-convener's position is a clear example. It was obvious to those haunting the side rooms at Nelson's Tahuna Holiday Camp that neither the incumbent, Richard Davies, nor his challenger, treasurer Jon Field, would get the numbers (a 25 per cent no confidence vote is enough to disqualify a candidate).

But it seemed no one bothered to tell the meeting or the rival candidates about the pre-meeting lobbying, so a four-hour charade went on.

Of more concern is the Greens' unresolved position on whether to:

* Join a coalition government after the next election.

* Join one later.

* Or, not sign up in the foreseeable future.

Co-leaders Rod Donald and Jeanette Fitzsimons sent a strong signal that they want in.

A workshop, including MPs Keith Locke and Nandor Tanczos, showed that a big majority of the party was sceptical. They know their "brand" is clearer but they recoil from the damage that coalition-forming has done to NZ First and the Alliance.

They also fear their outspoken activism on the powers of the SIS, a revamp of the tax system, free trade and GE foods may not survive the strictures of coalition.

The compromise message, delivered by political scientist-cum-adviser Tim Bale, was to get a tight coalition agreement and preserve a strong voice outside cabinet.

The party at large is unconvinced, and there is a risk of a rift between its ultimate focus and the desire of the parliamentary leadership to get its hands on the levers of power.

As Ms Fitzsimons put it: "We cannot afford to be satisfied with a few MPs, $15 million in a $38 billion Budget and a few members' bills."

If they are not yet a real party in the traditional sense there are good reasons for that.

The most obvious is resources.

The treasurer's report shows total income of just $145,000 last year - half the amount raised in election year.

Income of about $12,000 a month is dominated by tithes of $5000 from the seven MPs.

Last year it had no donations of more than the disclosure level - $1000 for local campaigns and $10,000 nationally. The only serious money comes from Parliamentary Services to fund the MPs.

There the professionalism is all in place. The experience of the seven MPs is augmented by a strong media team and two top-rank researchers - economist Roland Sapsford and Treasury-trained Deb Moran.

Whether that political strength can remain in step with the membership's devotion to the "movement" will be a big test for the future.

Ms Fitzsimons tried to link the two, calling for a strong voice in Government backed by a "quiet green revolution" at home and at work.

But an evening of Celtic dancing, hugs ahead of handshakes, a commitment to consensus and the best political brand around will go only so far without a harder-headed, better resourced party.

Bereft of big corporate donations, and with only 2590 members, the Greens will struggle to find cash.

Opponents trying to quash them might like to reaffirm their opposition to taxpayer funding of political parties.

If they don't, then the Green genie might really get out of the organic beer bottle.