Winding back the hands of history’s clock

  • Chris Trotter writes –

IT’S A COMMONPLACE of political speeches, especially those delivered in acknowledgement of electoral victory: “We’ll govern for all New Zealanders.” On the face of it, the pledge is a strange one.
Why would any political leader govern in ways that advantaged the huge number of citizens who’d cast their votes against her party? Surely, in a nation governed by political parties, strengthening one’s own, and advantaging its most loyal supporters, would be the two top priorities?

That so many political leaders reiterate the “We’ll govern for all New Zealanders” pledge is attributable to what might be called the unwritten rules of democratic politics. A government which ruled in open defiance of all but its own voters would very swiftly unite the rest of the country against it. Worse still, when such a government fell (which would likely be sooner rather than later) its replacement would have no compunction about following its predecessor’s example.

Very quickly, general elections would come to be feared by all sides. Failure to win could mean impoverishment, discrimination, even persecution, for the members and followers of the losing parties. The irresistible temptation, upon winning a general election, would be to make damn sure there wasn’t another one, or, at least, not one conducted freely and fairly. At best, the result would be an Hungarian-style “illiberal democracy”. At worst, outright tyranny.

“We’ll govern for all New Zealanders”, preserves at least the fiction that partisanship ceases when the last vote is counted, and that, henceforward, the election winner/s will govern in the “national interest”. Crude partisanship is banished to the sidelines, right up until the electoral term is set to expire.

In this fiction, the incoming government will be seconded by the public service, whose role, at least theoretically, is to preserve the inviolability of such key state institutions as the judiciary, the armed forces and the police, as well as ensuring the continuity of the state’s day-to-day administrative entities and services.

In reality, the public service serves the interests of the party, or parties, that have just won, or been returned, to power. It advances the new/re-elected government’s policy agenda, offering advice, and doing everything within its power to protect its ministers from their own arrogance, inexperience and/or stupidity. In other words, they are the government’s best friend, right up until the moment it is no longer the government. Very much a case of “The King is dead. Long live the King!”

“We’ll govern for all New Zealanders” is also a pledge to refrain from undoing everything the outgoing government has done whilst in office. Aside from one or two highly symbolic revocations and repeals, the new government is expected to retain those legislated reforms which were well-signalled, widely discussed and debated, and properly passed through all the required parliamentary stages.

Failure to be bound by this unwritten democratic rule is tantamount to repudiating democracy itself. If every attempt at reform is to be ruthlessly undone by the reformers’ successors, then democracy itself will be reduced to little more than a triennial search-and-destroy mission.

The whole utility and, ultimately, the very possibility of meaningful reform will be undermined, to the point where, once again, people begin to ask what democracy is good for.

If every attempt to improve society is countermanded by those who benefit most directly from its defects, then people will begin to insist that a more permanent method be found for negating their advantages. Understandable, but a “people’s tyranny” is still a tyranny.

“We’ll govern for all New Zealanders” is, at its core, a bi-partisan affirmation that the whole point of a democratic system is to make possible the steady advance of the general welfare. Parties of the Left will do their best to speed up that advance. Parties of the Right will attempt to slow the pace. But underlying and informing both Left and Right is a belief that history moves forwards, not backwards. The moment a political movement arises that attacks the whole idea of social progress, and announces its intention to wind back the hands of History’s clock, then democracy, along with its unwritten rules, is in mortal danger.

Is this where New Zealand presently stands? Have New Zealanders elected themselves a government determined to wind back the hands of History’s clock? There are some who insist that a narrow majority of New Zealanders have done precisely this. That the National-Act-NZ First Coalition Government has demonstrated not the slightest intention of governing for all New Zealanders. That it is a government for farmers, landlords, road-builders, mining companies – and the rest of the country be damned!

Or, in the colourful language of The Daily Blog editor, Martyn Bradbury: “This Hard-Right, racist, climate-change-denying, beneficiary-bashing Government.”

Others would argue that the only reason the incoming government felt obliged to wind back the hands of History’s clock is because their predecessors had pushed them too far forward. That, in spite of her promise to govern for all New Zealanders, Jacinda Ardern had allowed elements within Labour’s caucus to promote policies and pass legislation that caused a great many of her fellow citizens to feel disoriented, disliked, and even disinherited. Many Non-Māori New Zealanders felt robbed of what they considered their birthright – the country their European ancestors had built, and the European religious and political beliefs that animated its institutions.

The most precious of these Pakeha taonga is representative democracy. From the election of the Liberal Government in 1891 to the election of the First Labour Government in 1935, the Second in 1957 and the Third in 1972, New Zealanders took pride in their country’s designation as the “social laboratory of the world”. Sure, there were periods of conservative consolidation, when the clock’s hands slowed considerably, but, for the most part, it recorded the steady advance of New Zealand’s socially progressive hours. Not even the years of Rogernomics and Ruthanasia could halt its hands entirely.

What happened to so derange the operation of History’s clock remains a matter of heated debate. Beyond dispute, however, is that at some point between 2017 and 2023 its machinery was over-wound to a degree that gave rise to an unprecedented level of social unease. Changes, uncalled for and ill-explained, came in rapid succession. Too quickly to be either understood, accepted, or forgiven. Political polarisation worsened until there was only one statement that all but the Labour Government’s most ardent followers could agree upon: the politicians in the Beehive are not governing for all New Zealanders.

Entirely predictably, the breaking of one unwritten rule, led swiftly to the breaking of another. And, now, the critical motivational spring of this country’s historical clock – its hitherto unshakeable belief in democracy and the social progress it makes possible – is on the point of failing altogether.

But, if Christopher Luxon’s Government shows no sign of pausing in its reactionary backward lurching, then neither does Chris Hipkins’ Labour Party demonstrate the slightest indication of understanding how close they came to breaking the precious democratic mechanism, nor how urgent is the need for its repair.

Democracy, once lost, is not easily recovered.

If ever there was a time for both Left and Right to declare: “We’ll govern for all New Zealanders” – and mean it – then that time is now.

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One thought on “Winding back the hands of history’s clock

  1. I sometimes agree with Mr Trotter and this is one of them. With due respect I believe he misses a point. The backlash that but for MMP would have destroyed the Labour party was, in part at least, because the Ardern government openly justified their wrecking of democracy with claims that what they proposed was merely a more mature version of it. Fortunately enough voters saw the fatuous falsehood of that, and the surreptitious, stealthy, manner in which it was being imposed, to react the way they did. In short, most New Zealanders, or at least those of my generation, dislike intensely being lied to and manipulated.

    Liked by 1 person

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