Turn of century slow in coming

By JOHN ROUGHAN

The last year of the last century before all four digits change, no wonder 1999 was the year of the foregone conclusion.

It wasn't just the millennium bug - certain to strike software somewhere, we were warned - but politics, sport, all of national life in 1999 had an air of inevitability. The Government would go, the All Blacks would win the World Cup, Auckland would whine, and Wellington worry, about hosting half the world at a trade conference but Apec would go all right.

Roger Estall would go, eventually. And Murray McCully. Bill Clinton would survive impeachment and Monica would cash in. Mike Moore would win the top job at the World Trade Organisation and Don McKinnon would get the Commonwealth. Jenny would hang in for a full term and Helen would not put a foot wrong.

But the waiting seemed interminable. And that made the unexpected all the more interesting. Rachel dumped Rod. Jenny Shipley went to Waitangi with Titiwhai Harawira. Sian Elias became Chief Justice. Pam Corkery quit Parliament. Helen Clark climbed Mt Kilimanjaro.

Peter Hillary skied to the South Pole with two Australians and kites to pull them along. That wasn't very interesting until they returned and had a public row.

John Hawkesby returned to One to read the news with Judy Bailey and the audience switched to TV3. Perhaps they wondered why he had refused to work in tandem on the other channel, or perhaps they just didn't like the way Richard Long was shafted. Long came back and so did they.

And there the saga would have ended had not the Prime Minister, months later, put a foot in her mouth on television. Hawkesby got a $1 million golden handshake to walk away from TVNZ, she told astonished interviewers Linda Clark and Mike Hosking on Crossfire.

Afterwards, they asked her how she knew. "I made it up," said Mrs Shipley. "Isn't that what you people do?"

Golden handshakes were a sore point by then. Big exit payments and ersatz corporate excess just kept popping out of the public service all year.

"Winz" was the worst of it. Work and Income New Zealand, the newly restyled, goal-oriented, consumer-focused merger of the welfare office and the labour exchange, chartered aircraft to fly its most valued human resources to Taupo for induction in their new culture.

Chief executive Christine Rankin said she was not told the flights would cost the taxpayer $165,000.

But then, the department was spending $1 million on "rebranding," another million on refitting offices, $250,000 on advertising against benefit fraud, $80,000 on staff roadshows and $79,000 on designing a corporate wardrobe.

Meanwhile, the previous year's interminable struggle in the Fire Service continued unabated.

Eventually the stubborn reformer, Roger Estall, rejected chief executive Jean Martin's deal with the Firefighters' Union and both were paid off.

The head of education's Qualifications Authority reportedly received a six-figure sum when he left his $200,000 a year job, having made 15 trips home to Australia in his two-year stint.

And the country learned that two directors of the Tourism Board, Bryan Mogridge and Michael Wall, had collected $340,000 between them (chief executive Paul Winter got $620,000) when they could no longer stand the meddling of Tourism Minister Murray McCully.

Audit New Zealand took a look and pronounced the directors' payments unlawful. The amount had been intended as an opening offer, said Mr Mogridge, but the minister had gladly accepted it. Mr McCully resigned to save the Government further embarrassment and Messrs Mogridge and Wall agreed to return half their payments.

Behind the whole affair there was an advertising impresario, Kevin Roberts, an Englishman assimilated by New Zealand Breweries and inspired by the All Blacks. He had been recruited to head Saatchi and Saatchi Worldwide, where he had a big idea for New Zealand, starring Xena the Warrior Queen.

Television's sworded siren in leathers had not much to do with New Zealand except that Lucy Lawless from Mt Albert played the role. But for Kevin Roberts she was "cut through" for a global marketing campaign selling an image of an edgy destination to capitalise on the country's rare events of 1999-2000, Apec, the America's Cup, the millennium.

The National Party was interested, the Tourism Board less so. Saatchi's were seeking the board's blessing when the Prime Minister attended a private dinner with Kevin Roberts. The subject was not mentioned, Mrs Shipley told Parliament.

But a letter Mr Roberts wrote to the Tourism Board at the time suggested otherwise. "I was wrong," he said, when the letter surfaced. He had mentioned his proposal at a meeting with ministers on the morning after his dinner with the PM.

Name dropping did him no good in the end; the board preferred clean, green, "100 per cent pure" New Zealand to Xena and the edge. And "dinnergate" did National no good in election year.

Not even Apec could save the Government, and Apec was quite something.

Bill Clinton came, with daughter Chelsea and Hillary's mother. It was only the second United States presidential visit to this country and, unexpectedly, we were charmed.

The man was not just handsome. He was pleasant and his gestures were impeccable. He went shopping, greeted people, touched them. He played golf with Burton Shipley at Queenstown, admired the scenery and seemed genuine.

And while here, he fixed a couple of international problems. He met the President of China for the first time since his aircraft bombed the Chinese embassy in Belgrade. And he let Indonesia know it should let an international force into East Timor.

Apec in Auckland did not much advance the cause of Asia Pacific Economic Cooperation but it resolved the crisis that followed East Timor's vote for independence. With US Secretary of State Madelaine Albright and British Foreign Secretary Robin Cook attending, the way was cleared for Australia to lead a pacifying force.

Soon New Zealand was a nation in crisis. The All Blacks had fallen over at the rugby World Cup. Adidas had the team well equipped. John Hart had them well accommodated. Air New Zealand painted the front row on its plane. They had rolled England in style and were set to sleepwalk to the final.

It must have been a lesson to Helen Clark. The polls had been telling her for three years she would win but she took no chances. Promising little, campaigning quietly, she led Labour into government with Jim Anderton's Alliance. The predictable had arrived; year 2000 is upon us; 1999 was a long wait.