In his study of ethics in Australian government, John Uhr argues that political leadership can be dispersed and power tamed by a process of institutional checks and balances. Key elements in this process may include: the devolution of power to the state governments, public re-engagement with political parties, a stronger parliament, and ministerial government based on decision-making by consensus (Uhr 2005: 78-87). The resulting ‘lattice of leadership’ provides an alternative to the concentration of power in the hands of small and self-interested national elites. Although any such proposals are heavily prescriptive, it has been argued that constraining the powers of political leaders and increasing the opportunities for public and community participation produces a more diffused and, therefore, more accountable leadership (Walter and Strangio 2007: 64-85).
During the 1980s and 1990s, politics in New Zealand was marked by growing public opposition to the governing elite, especially over the pace and magnitude of neo-liberal reform. One consequence was the rise in support for small parties — by 1993 almost one third of all voters had begun to cast their votes for the growing array of small parties. A related but even more important consequence of voter disillusionment was the decision by national referendum to replace the existing plurality electoral system with proportional representation (PR). The prospect that National and Labour would be required to share legislative and executive power with the small parties was greeted with alarm by the major party leaders, notably National’s Jim Bolger and Jenny Shipley, and Labour’s Helen Clark. During the referendum campaign they warned voters that proportional representation would result in legislative paralysis and unstable government. Bolger, who was prime minister at the time, even suggested the alternative of an upper house, an idea that was roundly rejected by the voting public.
Among the subsequent institutional changes that have had a direct bearing on political leadership in New Zealand – offering the prospect that a ‘lattice of leadership’ would begin to emerge – three stand out.
One of the most notable features of the new proportional system has been the sheer number of parties winning parliamentary seats. Apart from the occasional presence of a Social Credit MP, throughout the post-war period the only parties holding seats were National and Labour. In contrast, as a result of an electoral system that awards seats in proportion to a party’s share of the vote, a total of eight parties sat in the 2005-2008 Parliament. Because this has resulted in minority government, the prime minister has had to keep the lines of communication open with each and every opposition party. This has left Labour in the difficult position of having to turn to its old adversary, National, for support in passing some important legislation, including the Singapore free trade agreement (2000), the controversial anti-smacking legislation (2007), and the NZ-China free trade agreement (2008).
Despite the proliferation of parliamentary parties, the actual number is less relevant to the theme of this chapter than the potential bargaining power each exercises within parliament and government. While some opposition parties are unashamedly opportunistic and pragmatic, others continue to harbour deep ideological and personal grudges dating back to the neo-liberal reforms of the 1980s and early 1990s. Their leaders have even been described as ‘political agitators, who thrive on conflict, are often narcissistic and possess an unbending belief in the virtue of their cause’ (Miller 2006: 116). These character traits would have little significance were it not for the fact that, in the context of a multi-party parliament, small parties are often veto players, as illustrated by the conduct of the Greens when, in 2002, they threatened to bring the Clark government down the moment it lifted its moratorium on the release of genetically modified corn. While adopting such a hard-line position can bring much-needed media attention, there are some inherent risks: veto players that exceed their powers not only endanger relations with the other parties (as a result of the Greens’ decision, Clark decided to exclude them from the next government), but also the voting public.
A further set of institutional changes impacting on political leadership concerns the transition from a single-party to a coalition government. Unlike Australia’s Liberal-National Coalition, which is a permanent arrangement, one or other of New Zealand’s two major parties must build a fresh coalition after each and every election. Thus, while the powers of the prime minister have been reduced, the range of strategic and interpersonal skills are much greater than they were when prime ministers enjoyed the benefit of both a guaranteed majority and a full slate of ministerial portfolios with which to reward their MPs. Following the 1993 election, the last under plurality voting, Prime Minister Jim Bolger had the luxury of some 30 executive positions to share amongst his 49 caucus colleagues. In contrast, following the first election under PR, the same prime minister was forced to sacrifice five of his 20 cabinet positions to the junior coalition partner, New Zealand First, with the promise of three additional positions within the term of that government. Lack of ministerial opportunities caused several of Bolger’s colleagues to complain that he had ‘sold out’ to New Zealand First. Within a year, he was replaced as party leader and prime minister.
Successful coalition leadership requires levels of consultation, compromise and inclusiveness barely comprehended a decade or more ago. Although the first coalition failed to survive the fractious personal relationship that existed between Prime Minister Shipley and the New Zealand First leader, Winston Peters, the following three coalitions, all led by Labour, have been remarkably stable and effective. Much of the credit for that success is due to Clark’s relentless pragmatism, as well as her skill as a micro-manager. This was especially so during the fraught coalition negotiations process, but is also true in day-to-day relations with the other party leaders — on occasions over a cup of tea, as with the Green co-leader, Jeanette Fitzsimons, and on others more formally. Relations between the coalition partners have been further aided by an agree-to-disagree amendment to the Cabinet Manual. It gives small governing parties the ability to oppose certain cabinet decisions without bringing down the government. This provision was first used by the Alliance in 2000 to oppose the government’s free trade agreement with Singapore.
The complex nature of coalition arrangements is best illustrated with reference to the 2005-08 (minority) government. At the 2005 election Labour won 50 seats, 11 seats short of an overall majority. Although the willingness of the Progressive (1) and Green (6) parties to join a Labour-led coalition was assured, this combined centre-left bloc failed to offer Clark the parliamentary majority needed to pass legislation. To complicate matters, the two centre parties, New Zealand First (7) and United Future (3), made it clear that they would not support a government that included the Greens (both argued that the Greens were unreliable and their views extreme). New Zealand First’s position was further complicated by the fact that, in the lead-up to the election, Peters had promised voters that his party would not be part of the next government, regardless of whether it was led by Labour or National. Labour’s only other possibility was an agreement with the Maori Party (4), an unlikely proposition given the small party’s opposition to the government’s Foreshore and Seabed legislation. Feelings were mutual, with the prime minister promising during the campaign that, when it came to negotiating a coalition, the Maori Party would be ‘the last cab off the ranks’.
The creative compromise to this dilemma was to exclude the Greens from any coalition arrangement, and instead offer both Peters and United Future’s Peter Dunne ministerial positions, ostensibly outside of government. In giving Peters the prestigious Foreign Affairs portfolio and Dunne Revenue, Clark provided each party with the barely plausible argument that, while they represented the government (Peters internationally) they were not to be regarded as members of the government (under the terms of their agreement, both party leaders were permitted to oppose the government on all matters outside their portfolios). Having promised that he would not be seduced by the ‘baubles of office’, Peters was especially vulnerable to the accusation that he had deliberately misled his party’s members and voters. To finalise this complex multi-party arrangement, separate agreements had to be reached with each of the coalition and support parties, with the Progressives signing a full coalition agreement, New Zealand First and United Future separate ‘Confidence and Supply’ agreements, and the clearly disappointed Greens a ‘Cooperation’ agreement. The speed and effectiveness with which the prime minister finalised these arrangements are testimony to her negotiating and management ability.
The extent to which the prime minister’s powers have been curbed by the advent of coalition government can be illustrated with respect to the NZ-China free trade agreement. Shortly before the agreement was signed in April 2008, Dunne reversed his earlier decision to accompany the New Zealand delegation to Beijing in protest at the Chinese government’s repression of Tibetan protestors (although his party was prepared to support the agreement in Parliament). Peters went a step further in announcing that his party would vote against the pact on the grounds that it did not provide enough benefits for New Zealand. While successful passage of the agreement was never at risk (it had the support of five parties, including National), the Foreign Minister’s announcement provoked calls for his resignation. In response, Labour denied any hypocrisy in having the Foreign Minister publicly oppose New Zealand’s most significant free trade agreement. After all, as Clark herself admitted, ‘Winston Peters has made it possible for us to govern’.
A third institutional change that bears on the question of the taming of political leadership concerns the party system itself, specifically the evolution from the mass and catch-all stages of party organisation to that of a cartel (Katz and Mair 1997). While much of the theoretical work on this latter model has focused on the major parties, especially the extent to which they collude over the distribution of the material resources of the state, recent experience in New Zealand points to the existence of multi-layered cartels, with the dispersal of some of the spoils of office to small parties (but only inside parliament), especially those with the potential to keep one or other of the major parties in power. These resources are said to include material support for party (as distinct from parliamentary) activities, including the free use of office space, air travel, staffing, advertising, and professional and consultancy services.
More recent work on cartels (Blyth and Katz 2005) has extended the argument beyond the use of material resources to include anti-competitive measures with respect to the ways the two major parties occupy the ideological and policy space. According to this view, the established parties are less inclined to compete over policy differences, preferring to appeal to the amorphous ‘median’ voter. Blyth and Katz argue that, through a combination of free market reform and economic globalisation, most of the policy competition has been ‘maxed out’. Paralleling developments in the United Kingdom, Australia and elsewhere, New Zealand is experiencing growing policy agreement. While parties continue to present themselves as bitter and uncompromising rivals during election campaigns, substantial policy disagreement has all but disappeared. In the case of New Zealand, this can be illustrated with reference to the commitment of Labour and National to broadly similar policies on social spending, especially health and education, taxation rates (both support cuts), nuclear power, climate change and the war in Iraq.
In the absence of policy difference, under the cartel model the major parties now stress their ‘managerial competence’ and ‘personal’ style of leadership. New Zealand’s political leaders were once recruited from the ranks of the farming and small business communities, as well as the unions. During the past two decades these leaders have been replaced by a new generation of highly educated and professionally trained technocrats. Examples of this ‘embourgeoisement’ of leadership (Kavanagh 1990: 107) include David Lange (lawyer), Geoffrey Palmer (law professor), Clark (university lecturer), Bill English (economist), Don Brash (Reserve Bank Governor), and John Key (currency trader).