KEY POINTS:
The epigrammatic observation that a week is a long time in politics is widely attributed to 1960s British Prime Minister Harold Wilson, even though he once said that he could not remember having uttered it. No matter: the point is well made, and it follows from it that
a year is an eternity. And if National's persistent lead in the opinion polls survives an election year and translates into an election win, Labour will be forced to look back on the last two months of 2007 as the beginning of the end.
The political management of the Electoral Finance Bill has been a public-relations disaster. However well-intentioned it may have been, it has looked like - and has been easy for its opponents to depict as - a desperate bid to silence criticism and make incumbency the major qualification for political success. And this week Labour's leading lights really began to look like cornered cats.
Michael Cullen's outburst in the debating chamber, in which he called National leader John Key a "scumbag" and a "rich prick" was extraordinary. This was not the unflappable debater whose command of the astringent and witty rejoinder made him the natural inheritor of David Lange's mantle; it was the act of a man on the ropes, throwing punches that did far more damage to himself than to his target.
The latter comment, in particular, is disturbing: this Labour-led Government has been very keen to depict itself as a friend of business and to have senior ministers photographed alongside very rich entrepreneurial people who, they say, embody the country's spirit and its future. Cullen's spiteful remark may be much more revealing than he would have wished. And it made a sadly fitting sequel to the ill-judged words of Environment Minister Trevor Mallard, whose every minute in politics must seem like a very long time these days.
Things have been going pear-shaped for Mallard since he threw a punch at National MP Tau Henare in a Parliamentary lobby in October. The crestfallen demeanour with which he delivered a public apology was doubtless calculated to minimise the political fallout but was not enough to save him from an ignominious relegation from the ministerial front bench nor to protect him from a private prosecution.
In between those two events, Mallard might have been expected to breathe through his nose and keep a low profile. Instead, he responded to a complaint from communications consultant Erin Leigh - that the ministry for which he was responsible was being politicised - by launching a blistering attack on her professional integrity. In doing so, he relied on advice from ministry boss Hugh Logan, which Logan now says was not intended to reflect on Leigh's ability or performance.
Mallard says the advice (the wording of which will not be made public) was ambiguous - a view backed up by State Services Commissioner Mark Prebble - and refuses to apologise. That stance is understandable - the apology to Henare doubtless still sticking in his throat, he unsurprisingly doesn't relish issuing another one - and is also technically excusable since ministers do rely on officials' advice. But that doesn't make it right.
Government departments increasingly use contracted consultants rather than fulltime staff, and the business of government relies heavily on freelancers. The damage to Leigh's reputation caused by comments that Mallard made under parliamentary privilege is hard to quantify but is unlikely to be insignificant. Logan's later statement that Leigh's work was "professional and of good quality" had a mealy-mouthed tone and bore the unmistakable whiff of damning with faint praise.
It remains to be seen whether Leigh will have any legal recourse, but Mallard's refusal to apologise is a serious misjudgement. He may not hide behind the technical excuse that he was relying on advice. New Zealanders' belief in a fair go - not to mention the "buck stops here" principle - demands more.
The events of the last month have made the Government look increasingly aloof and arrogant. This fiasco has simply etched that impression deeper.
