Australia’s Largest Christian News Site

Anthony Albanese calls for civility after the Helen Haines attack, but revelations of a political dirt file raise uncomfortable questions about his government’s own conduct.

There are few things more reassuring than a politician lecturing the rest of us about civility.

But that’s exactly what we’ve had to endure from Saint Anthony all week.

The Prime Minister has been at pains to stress just how important it is that we lower the temperature of political debate.

And there’s nothing wrong with that advice — especially in light of the appalling attack on Independent MP Helen Haines.

It’s just a bit rich coming from the PM whose own office was shopping around a so-called dirt file on Helen Haines just weeks before she was attacked in the street.

Now, of course, I’m not suggesting any link between the dirt file and the car ramming.

But I am suggesting that, when it comes to the issue of civility, the PM has all the moral authority of Pope John XII.

It’s all a bit too convenient to sermonise on lowering the temperature right after you’ve finished fiddling with the thermostat to see just how much heat you can apply to your political opponent.

Deflection

As is now well known, Helen Haines had been critical of a $6m government grant awarded to a golf club in Anthony Albanese’s Marrickville electorate.

Rather than answer the criticism, the PM’s office created a dirt file on Helen Haines, casting aspersions about her own funding requests.

Because nothing says “healthy democratic debate” quite like responding to questions about your own conduct by encouraging questions about somebody else’s.

So what exactly are politicians doing when they pass journalists a dirt file about their opponent?

To understand why it matters, you need to understand how the game works.

Political parties put a lot of effort into collecting material about their opponents — old statements, spending decisions, embarrassing associations, alleged inconsistencies, perhaps a few facts that look considerably more suspicious when arranged in the right order.

The file is then passed to selected journalists, usually with the understanding that the source will remain confidential.

“Don’t say you heard this from me, but, here’s something you should look into.”

Or, even better: “Here’s something you should ask my political opponent at the next press conference.”

So, instead of politicians publicly insinuating their opponent is shady… which they wouldn’t want to do because it’s all so undignified — and, besides, we don’t want to raise the temperature — a journalist is invited to do it for them.

And that’s the beauty of it, from the politician’s point of view.

The politician supplies the ammunition, and the journalist fires the gun; all of which means the politician is still able to express concern about the increasingly toxic political environment even after he’s poisoned the well.

Now, the journalist, of course, may have entirely legitimate reasons to pursue the information.

A document supplied by a politician isn’t automatically worthless, and journalists should investigate genuine questions about public money regardless of who raises them.

But there’s a crucial difference between receiving information and allowing yourself to be recruited into somebody else’s political operation.

A dirt file is not necessarily a lie. But the power of a dirt file is often in what it leaves out.

Facts can be selected, context removed, and innocent decisions arranged to create a suspicious-looking pattern.

An allegation becomes a question, the question becomes a headline, and the headline acquires a life of its own. Job done.

The politician gets to damage an opponent without having to defend the insinuation publicly.

The journalist gets a potentially juicy story and almost certainly a headline, even if it’s just that so-and-so denies allegations about such-and-such.

And… the long-suffering public gets the impression it’s watching independent scrutiny when, in fact, it may be watching a political attack, laundered through the press pack.

That’s when journalism risks becoming something other than journalism.

The reporter stops independently deciding what deserves scrutiny and starts following a trail of bread crumbs laid by someone with an obvious political interest in the destination.

And the public can’t tell the difference simply by looking at the finished headline.

Labor’s Awkward Questions and Convenient Answers

What’s hilarious about Labor’s dirt file on Helen Haines is that the dirt file has now become the story. That’s not supposed to happen.

Anthony Albanese at first avoided answering questions about the dirt file which, the document’s own metadata showed, had been edited by Mr Albanese’s Deputy Director of Communications.

When asked about it by my News24 colleague Keirn Gilbert, Albanese pretended he was asked a completely different question.

What did he know about the dirt file?

“Helen Haines is a very good local member,” he replied.

Huh?

Labor MP Julian Hill didn’t want to talk about Labor’s dirt file because, well, he’s just not that kind’a guy…

He told News24:

No, I’m not (aware of it), and I’m not — on a day when my colleague and friend’s fighting for life in hospital — going to go down political rabbit holes. People can talk about that kind of stuff if they want. But that is not my focus today.”

I get it. The whole point of preparing a dirt file is that your own hands are kept clean.

Deputy Premier Richard Marles was keeping his hands AND fingers clean:

I don’t think it’s about pointing fingers, it’s about all of us taking responsibility. It has been the Prime Minister who’s led the call on turning the temperature down

Richard Marles went on to say that the Prime Minister was someone who always engaged with grace — the virtue, not the tuckshop lady.

Grace is a lovely quality. It is also an unusual word to reach for when questions about a political dirt file remain unanswered.

The dirt file raises a legitimate question about political standards. Do the rules about lowering the temperature apply to the government as well as everyone else?

And do journalists understand when they are being given information in the public interest — and when they are being used to advance somebody else’s interests?

Albanese is right that political violence and intimidation must never be normalised. But civility can’t simply be a sermon delivered to the public after politicians have finished throwing mud.

If the Prime Minister wants to lower the temperature, he could start by answering some straightforward questions about the document reportedly circulated from his own office.

Who commissioned it? Who approved it? What was its purpose? And were journalists being asked merely to examine information, or being encouraged to pursue a political line?

These are not unreasonable questions. They are precisely the sort of questions governments should expect when they wield power.

Anthony Albanese can’t demand that we all take the heat out of politics while leaving unanswered questions about whether his own office was busy trying to turn the place into a sauna.

Otherwise, “lower the temperature” risks becoming less a principle than a public-relations strategy: a demand for good manners from everyone else, issued from behind the bunker.

On Friday, the Prime Minister — unable to go on denying the existence of the dirt file — tried to reinvent it.

Dirt file? No. It was a character reference.

Observe how the PM begins by saying “Let’s be very clear” and then tells an absolute porky:

“Let’s be very clear because apparently, it’s been published somewhere. It’s a list of funding from Helen Haines, just showing that people of integrity stand up for their electorate. No personal criticism of Helen. Helen is a strong advocate for her electorate. She’s advocated for funding for projects in her electorate.”

If you believe that, you’ll believe anything. And that’s exactly what this Labor Government is counting on.

___

Republished with thanks to The James Macpherson Report. Image courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.