There are indications Scott Morrison as prime minister sought to be a quiet Australian echo of France’s Louis XIV who grandly declared: “L’état c’est moi” – I am the state.
At a stretch, any evidence might include Morrison’s frequent use of the royal we during his extensive Wednesday press conference.
There are stronger indicators.
While the former prime minister did not quite claim embodiment of the nation, he was sneakily heading in that general direction by unilaterally awarding himself greater ministerial powers.
Why? On Wednesday, Morrison attempted to argue the people wanted him to.
He said that at the pandemic peak, there was “a clear expectation established in the public’s mind” that “I, as prime minister, was responsible for pretty much for every single thing that was going on, every drop of rain, every strain of the virus, everything that occurred over that period of time”.
So it wasn’t about greater government efficiency. It was about Scott Morrison getting more power.
The posturing – part of Morrison’s burden-of-office plea for victimhood – is one of many reasons Anthony Albanese cannot simply move on from debating issues raised by his predecessor’s covert acquisition of ministerial real estate.
Those range from the functions of the governor general to the stability of the Coalition agreement between the Nationals and Liberals.
By granting himself the authority of the resources minister, then the Nationals’ Keith Pitt, Morrison breached the allocation of ministries under the Coalition agreement, according to the Nationals’ Senate leader, Bridget McKenzie.
And of course Labor faces the temptation of mischievous political sport. Senior opposition figures are struggling with the unprecedented ministerial finagling by the man who on 21 May they wanted returned as prime minister.
Labor will keep reminding them of this.
Of genuine substance are the issues of prime ministerial transparency and accountability, obligations Morrison appeared to discard as he gave himself greater brute power.
He deliberately did not tell most of his cabinet colleagues he was taking on five additional ministerial authorities, restricting the full details to the governor general, David Hurley, the then deputy prime minister, Michael McCormack, prime ministerial staff, two journalists and, potentially, the Queen.
More important, he didn’t tell the parliament or the people, a violation of important Westminster conventions.
The process began on 14 March 2020, when Morrison moved into the health ministry, having told the minister, Greg Hunt. On 30 March he took on finance, but didn’t tell the incumbent, Mathias Cormann.
Roughly a year later, on 15 April 2021, the acquisition urge returned with Morrison making himself co-minister for resources, to the ignorance of the minister, Pitt.
Then on 6 May Morrison moved into Treasury, without telling Josh Frydenberg, who just five days later delivered the budget. Morrison also that day inserted himself into home affairs, again without telling the minister, Karen Andrews.
All this was done with single-sentence appointment notices of as few as 36 words, signed by Hurley and sent back to Morrison’s office.
Another lingering area of speculation is over Morrison’s future.
He has said he will not resign from parliament, a relief for the New South Wales Liberals, who these days would not be too confident of retaining his seat of Cook.
“Apart from anything else, it’s not in the interests of the Liberal party – a byelection at the moment, in a very safe seat – particularly as in the state of NSW we will face a state election in the early part of next year,” John Howard told the ABC’s 7.30 on Tuesday.
The Morrison controversy will not fade quickly, and there are no signs he particularly wants it to. He has chuckled about it on Facebook.
This episode has confirmed Morrison’s capacity for hiding, or at least delaying, the truth.
The politician who last month told a Perth audience he and acquaintances “don’t trust in governments” has been a stark example of why trust has disappeared.
He has indicated his take-up of additional authority was kept secret because public knowledge could have caused angst.
This is an all-purpose excuse for rejection of transparency and, in some mindsets, could encourage suspicion of a dark state operating outside the reach of ordinary citizens.
“I think there was a great risk that in the midst of that [Covid] crisis those powers could be misinterpreted and misunderstood, which would have caused unnecessary angst in the middle of a pandemic and could have had an effect on the day-to-day functioning of the government,” Morrison said Wednesday.
There are other grounds for the saga to continue.
Legal advice on his activities will be delivered on Monday, and the government has foreshadowed an inquiry, which the opposition will support.
The opposition leader, Peter Dutton, said this week he wanted to ensure “checks and balances are put in place to make sure it can’t happen again”.
Further, Pitt has backed suggestions of a royal commission into the handling of the pandemic.
That potential logjam of inquiries all but guarantees the Morrison matter will still be active when parliament resumes on 5 September.
Sitting on the backbench, he will be the target of Labor jeering.
Much less playful will be some on his own side of the House, whose grim faces might indicate there are still things to be resolved.
While insisting his collection of ministries was a precaution should the incumbents be Covid victims, the only time he used his extra power was when he overrode Pitt and blocked the Pep-11 gas exploration project off the NSW coast.
It had nothing to do with pandemics, and the rejection would have helped Liberal election chances last May.
Gazumping Pitt’s authority – now the subject of a legal challenge – was an insight into what Morrison was prepared to do with the extra roles.
He wanted a concentration of power.
His ambush of Pitt was brutal and definitive, and MPs on both sides have taken note.
