John Armstrong: Labour's soft underbelly

Who's next? The Prime Minister might well ask herself that question the next time she casts her eyes around the Cabinet table.

No sooner has one minister finally dropped out of the headlines after dropping some clanger than another pops up to fill the vacant limelight, again for all the wrong reasons.

Last week's offender was David Cunliffe who, having got into strife for some inappropriate remarks about Telecom's dividend policy, has since proceeded to dig a deeper hole for himself.

This week's culprit was Parekura Horomia, who eclipsed his colleague with an embarrassing rant during a select committee hearing on the Maori affairs vote.

Cunliffe, who is responsible for telecommunications policy, is now the subject of a Securities Commission probe, and Horomia handed the Maori Party a gift opportunity to castigate Labour by confessing he had not bid for extra money for his department during the latest Budget round.

Whether he would have got any is a moot point. But Horomia, who followed the advice of his department's chief executive Leith Comer, looked like a minister captured by his officials.

Just the week before, Horomia had been on the rack in Parliament struggling to explain why his chief executive was shifting resources away from one of the Ministry of Maori Development's key functions - its monitoring of the effectiveness of other Government agencies in delivering assistance to Maori.

That is one of the ministry's statutory responsibilities - and Comer's actions had been strongly criticised by Parliament's Maori Affairs committee.

The usual waffle from Horomia in the House was matched by waffle in the Budget in the form of a reallocation of $24 million to Maori, presumably as a counter to the Maori Party.

It now turns out that the money is a reallocation within the existing Maori affairs vote, which by remaining static has effectively been cut in real terms.

Horomia's tantrum in front of the committee only succeeded only in underlining his failure to advocate for his constituency. But he and Cunliffe are not the only ones who have been in the dog box.

Rick Barker made a hash of his response to Civil Defence's mishandling of the tsunami that wasn't. Dover Samuels broke ranks over Chris Carter's refusal to give the go-ahead to the Whangamata marina. And, of course, David Benson-Pope botched his response to new allegations of personal impropriety during his teaching days, and David Parker was forced to resign after the spotlight was put on his past dealings as a property developer in Dunedin.

The relief for Labour is that no common thread runs through these cases to suggest a serious malaise is afflicting the Government whose performance, anyway, seems unaffected.

In the Beehive, such episodes are seen as evidence of the "chaos theory" of politics. Not everything goes to plan. The unexpected happens. Most of the time things are handled competently. Sometimes they could have been handled better.

The slight worry for the Prime Minister, however, is that apart from Horomia the above ministers come from the lower ranks of the ministry. The front-bench is the party's shop-window. And occupied by Helen Clark, Michael Cullen, Steve Maharey, Phil Goff, Annette King, Trevor Mallard and Pete Hodgson, Labour's front bench remains formidable, even if the latter minister has been finding the health portfolio a real challenge.

Behind them sit ministers who either represent Labour's future or are there because they are supposed to be safe pairs of hands. However, this grouping is starting to resemble Labour's soft underbelly.

There are exceptions. Chris Carter has demonstrated a capacity to both attract trouble and deal with it competently.

Damien O'Connor has been able to put some distance between himself and the long-running problems in his Corrections portfolio.

That was the one thing Barker failed to do following the tsunami alert. His mistake was to display some old-fashioned loyalty for public servants under his aegis who are supposedly unable to defend themselves.

It left him trying to defend the indefensible. It left him exposed when the modern-day practice is for ministers to distance themselves from bungles by their departments or, as is the Prime Minister's proclivity, hang officials out to dry.

And these days public servants are not averse to speaking out and sticking up for themselves.

There is some confidence that Barker's lapse was a one-off and that he has taken the lessons from the experience - just as Parker has been hardened by his.

Parker had already been in National's sights before his temporary suspension from the Cabinet. He was seen as vulnerable because of his initially heavy workload. However, the best way of weakening the Prime Minister's claim to have rejuvenated her ministry is to discredit the newcomers brought in to achieve that rejuvenation.

That has given added impetus to National's hounding of Cunliffe who, after Benson-Pope, may be the most worrying example for Labour of the current rash of self-inflicted wounds, given that Horomia seems beyond redemption.

Cunliffe is held in high regard by the Prime Minister. He has been earmarked for much bigger things.

For example, he was designated as a substitute for Budget-related media appearances that Cullen was not able to fulfil.

It is likely he will receive little more than a slap over the wrist from the Securities Commission.

But that should not excuse his errors of judgment, which began with his breach of Cabinet guidelines.

These instruct ministers not to talk about the prospects of companies listed on the stock exchange because of legal risks posed by their having access to commercially sensitive confidential information.

Cunliffe raised more eyebrows this week when he asked Vodafone to send a letter of apology drafted last November regarding claims that he released confidential information.

This was retaliation against National. But the request risked compromising him just as he was about to regulate on mobile phone fees.

It was extraordinary behaviour for someone facing a Securities Commission inquiry, even if the matters are unrelated.

Cunliffe was absent from Parliament on Thursday and Trevor Mallard, responding to questions about the Vodafone letter, made it very clear he was speaking on Cunliffe's behalf - a tell-tale sign that Mallard was wary of Cunliffe's replies coming back to bite him.

Cunliffe is a classic case of a minister pouring fuel on a fire of his own making. Extremely self-assured and ultra-ambitious, he may consider himself fire-proof.

But although she sticks up for him in public, it would be surprising if the Prime Minister does not quietly disabuse him of that notion in private - for his sake and Labour's.