Tony's disciples

As Abbott enters a room of party faithful there is usually a guttural chant that slowly swells.  Those who have seen a Bruce Springsteen concert will recognise the vibe. 

"Tone-ee, Tone-ee, Tone-ee."

One of the aspects of the Coalition campaign that has been little remarked upon, is that Abbott spent much of the time in the first weeks revving up his foot-soldiers. Inspiring a kind of religious fervour.

On average there was at least one campaign launch a day to packed rooms of the Disciples of Tony. Seriously, what else possesses parents to pass down their babies and small children to the front of an audience - as I observed during campaign events - for the ritual planting of the dear leader's lips on the tender noggin ?

Abbott is leading the Coalition faithful to the promised land where Labor has been routed, the budget is returned to surplus, the boats are turned back, and Direct Action mysteriously and inexplicably works.

Much has been made of Abbott's unpopularity but little has been made of this ability to motivate his troops. Similarly, much has been made of Labor's "ground war" but little of the Coalition's.

And this primarily has been the Abbott camp's focus in the first part of the campaign.  

It's not about us, it's about him

The Blue Mountains behind Windsor is a beautiful area.  Gorgeous limestone cliffs and ravines set amidst the bush. But nothing that could't be improved with a few mobile towers.

For Tony Abbott  this is the "heartland of Australia" where everyone "knows each others names". Fair dinkum. Ridgy didge. 

Into this rose-coloured setting of Australian "mateship", the Coalition convoy descends in week two of the campaign to announce funding for mobile phone towers.

Mateship though only extends so far; out front of the Colo Heights hall is a group of elderly protestors complaining against a plan to build a new bridge over the Hawkesbury River that will cut through one of the oldest town squares in Australia. 

When I say a group, it was more like three people. But faced with "Protestors disrupt Opposition Leader's campaign" type story, journos and cameras pour off the bus. The protest organiser is only happy to oblige with the megaphone  at her side doing take after retake for the different cameras. 

"Not happy Tony," she repeats each time when asked.

At this point, columnist for the Australian, and former Liberal staffer, Chris Kenny arrives. He's traveling with the Coalition convoy and scowls at the assembled media. He's writing an article on the Coalition campaign but these days it's hard to tell the difference between working for Tony and working for Rupert.

Abbott's wife, Margie, and daughter, Frances, come in late looking awkward as they survey Abbott surrounded by cameras pressing the flesh.

Out back of the Colo Heights hall, locals are gathered waiting for Abbott to speak. It's an Ugg Boot affair and not all are happy to see him.

"It's not about us, it's about him," complains one when Abbott appears surrounded by a phalanx of camera men pushing their way through the crowd.

Abbott delivers a standard stump speech before disappearing with Malcolm Turnbull for a quick briefing on the policy he is announcing. 

"It's a bit like when you and me go get a Cooper's Red," says one of the bystanders, without much explanation. 

Abbott reappears for his press conference after being briefed on the magic of mobile telecommunication. Helpfully, Coalition staffers provide the detail of the policy announcement just as Abbott is winding up his press conference. It's something of an information black spot as well as a mobile dead zone.  

But Abbott wants to hot foot it out front after seeing a fire engine from the local Rural Fire Service. A quick pose for cameras with his RFS mates before jumping back into the bus.  

The campaign bubble in Penrith

As a journalist, you know you're in a marginal seat when its inhabitants see you coming a mile off. In the case of the astute people of Penrith in the Western Surburbs' seat of Lindsay when finding a busload of reptiles pile into the local McDonalds last Tuesday, they had seen enough to to prompt one to remark to their friend "look journalists".

They had come across us in their shopping malls and streets "vox popping" average Australians on their views on politics to know that when journos come calling run. Run as fast as your dear legs can carry you or face seeing your face and name plastered across the paper next with an inane quote attached.

I was first sent out to Penrith in 2003 when Mark Latham was elected Labor leader to "take the temperature" of the electorate. Not surprisingly, they were oblivious to the fact he was a wingnut and could be encouraged to say a few positive words about him.

However,  last week we weren't seeking their views but rather stodgy fast food fare.  The Coalition convoy had come to Penrith for the launch of the Western Sydney Abbott bus. (It's kind of like the Freedom Riders except its driven by a whole load of white guys with a six foot image of Tony Abbott's face on the side and aims to promote the case of marginalised Liberal voters in Western Sydney).

In a large empty car park near the Penrith Panthers, a smallish collection of Liberal supporters had come to welcome the Abbott Freedom Bus. 

As blogger Preston Towers remarked the event was behind a fence leading to the assertion the media were in a campaign bubble walled off from the real people.

In truth,  the pack had just been over the road at the local Maccas rubbing shoulders with hoi polloi. The gate to the carpark where the event was held was also wide open and interested bystanders could have wandered in. The fact that there was only Liberal supporters there was not evidence others were locked out. Rather, few people in their right mind would want to spend an hour of their day mixing with wide-eyed zealots bellowing "Tony".

Immediately after the event, the Coalition convoy dribbled across to the Penrith Panthers stadium to "announce" funding for the extension of the stadium. It was hardly notable - the funding had already been announced and allocated by Labor in June. 

But of course it subsequently attracted widespread media attention for what Abbott said at the stadium. After kicking a ball with a couple of the Penrith players, Abbott convened an impromptu press conference with the Liberal candidate for Lindsay Fiona Scott with his daughter Frances at his side.

A crew from 4 Corners doing a story for the election led the questioning of Abbott. They were clearly interested in the parallels between the way in which John Howard had won over Western Sydney and the Coalition's pitch at this election. Abbott was asked about the similarities between Scott and the Liberal member of Lindsay until 2007, Jackie Kelly - who notoriously lost her seat when her husband helped distribute anti-Islamic propaganda. Abbott then uttered his now infamous words that both women "had sex appeal".

The words had an immediate reaction in the press pack, many rushing to their tape recorders to check he had said what they thought he said. "OMG. This is a real gaffe", said a few. I wasn't so sure, even if it was a mistake and a bit tasteless, I wasn't convinced it would have major ramifications.  As one senior Coalition advisor said to me afterwards - "We would have had thousands of men in Western Sydney googling "Fiona Scott". The polls that weekend bore me out. There was the real campaign bubble right there.

The modern election campaign and mobile phone blackspots

There is something vaguely comical about holding a campaign event in a mobile phone black-spot. If a tree falls in the forest and no-one hears it did it actually happen ?

More than any other even this week the decision by Tony Abbott's campaign team to launch new funding for mobile black spots in a telecommunications dead zone in the Blue Mountains underlined the nature of modern elections.

If people wonder why this campaign seems so disjointed, so lacking in any meaningful themes or visions, it is because of the way campaigns are now covered.

Tweet it. Blog it. Post it. Snap it. Film it.

It is all about the moment. The images are everything.

Capturing it now. Capturing fast. And then moving on.

Print journalists are along for the ride. It is about the images for the web and the nightly news.

Coalition campaign planners must have realised there would be a problem with holding an event in a mobile phone dead zone. But they must have decided the natural beauty of the area and the policy itself demanded the location.

Even so, it was a misstep. From the moment the TV crews found out about the location when boarding the plane to Sydney, all hell broke loose. These guys don't let anything stand in their way, particularly at a press conference, to get the press shots.  And they don't hold back when they are unhappy. They surrounded an Abbott media advisor seeking answers.

The ABC were quick enough to be able to get a satellite truck out to the venue at Colo Heights but others weren't quite so nimble. 

As a result, at the venue, barring up gained a whole new meaning.

But journalists and camera crews wildly waved their phones in the air to little avail.

It was only as the bus was pulling back into Windsor in the west of Sydney that the Abbott crew realised they had a problem. Vision of the event had only showed on ABC 24. Commercial channels were still waiting to stream the vision to their newsrooms and had missed morning newsbreaks.

There was now a risk the airing of the vision would overlap with the next event.

It was a rare slip-up for the well planned Abbott campaign team.

Fine hotels and drinks for all

Here's the media's little secret of the campaign trail - journos like me get to stay in some of the best hotels in Australia. It is one of the few luxuries left for us journos.
On Sunday and Monday night it was the Hyatt on the Park in Melbourne. A large wood-panelled room with a marbled bathroom and a spa and espresso maker for my efforts.

Political parties have a taste for the high life - financed by tax payers through travel allowance. When the campaign starts media organisations have to cough up their credit card details to tag along. The major parties have a field day, using the plastic to book journos into the best hotels in town. Craig Thomson eat your heart out.
The average cost of a week on the road for one journo to their employers is around $20,000.
I wonder whether it's a great look in the current economic environment but in the increasingly tight financial position of many media organisations the campaign trail is even harder to justify.  Journos are on the road for when things go pear shaped and to provide colour and movement.  But much is now picked up by the journos back in Canberra. As a result,  the days of the large campaign media contingent are probably numbered. Last year, the Courier-Mail pulled the pin on the campaign trail during the State election. And on this campaign one radio journo has been told by his employer to find cheaper digs. I suspect other media organisations will follow suit. Either that or the media companies should lay down an ultimatum to Labor and the Coalition, cut the cost of the campaign trail or we won't cover your events.
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In years gone by the evenings after a day on the campaign trail used to be spent at the bar swapping yarns and getting leads. Good old fashioned hard living journos.
I prefer though now to spend it in the gym. I guess that's why I'm not a very good journo. But at least I can be a fit one, who doesn't have my gut hanging over my belt. And being on the tread mill also is a comforting reminder of my career in general.
The added benefit of a gym session during a campaign is I can plug in to music but also watch the images of the day flash before me on the TVs on the gym. Campaign footage shorn of sound, apart from my racing heart and my 80s, 90s Gen X playlist is a funny way of reviewing the day.
Just the images and no context provided from the talking heads of prime time. Things strike you that may not see during the day.
But maybe I should spend the time down at the bar.
Bzzz. As it happens, there is still time to hold up the bar.
It's a text message from our ever upbeat Coalition tour organiser. Such messages pop up periodically through the day a minute or so before something happens. It prevents journos like me calling the Wilderness Society to get their koala bears out to the event for a good photo opportunity. "Abbott on 3AW 4.05", "Bus leaves 12.45" etc. But this time we are informed "Mr Abbott has asked me to invite you along to informal drinks" at the Hotel restaurant.
Events like these are a chance to compare notes on how the campaign is traveling. On any campaign it's always a case of Stockholm syndrome. You rarely get an idea of how the other side is traveling apart from a few TV clips during the day. And there's inevitably conversation turns to where the Coalition magical mystery goes next. Perth ? Brisbane ?
Thankfully there are few if any marginal seats in Adelaide.
Abbott moves through the room, a staffer by his side doing the introductions to the groups of journos. His maniacal laugh ricochets around the room. The topic of conversation was Sunday night's debate.
No-one is happy. It was a dud - the equivalent of a David Speers double interview on Sky News. Limited interaction between the candidates and tight time keeping limits the interchange between Abbott and Rudd.
Labor campaigners were aghast at Rudd's performance. Where was the Rudd of one month ago who flew solo in Question Time without notes the day after he returned to the leadership?
The TV guys are particularly unhappy they were forced to take a fixed feed from Sky. There was no opportunity to get a camera behind the leaders to get a shot of Rudd's speaking notes.
"How would you feel if you had to take AAP copy of the debate?" asks one TV guy of print journos.
Abbott reckons the further debates should be community forum type affairs where the questions come from all comers. Journos have every chance to ask questions at others why not give the community a shot, argues Abbott.
I tend to agree. As journos we get very caught up in the intricacies of political debate and tend to lose perspective. At the same, some times sustained questioning on policy detail is required. Both types of debates are needed.
I reckon the biggest problem was setting it in the National Press Club - the quintessential Canberra beltway establishment. Staid setting for staid debate.
But here's the problem. At the end of the day, modern political parties prefer these kind of debates where no risk is taken and there are few chances for rogue questions. There is very little incentive to try something more free flowing.
One reply on my first post complained the announcement by Rudd of legislation to legalise gay marriage was largely overlooked in the debate by the MSM. Maybe. It was a significant moment
But it deserved better than to be thrown in by Rudd late in the piece in response to a question. It deserved to be part of his opening if he wanted to give it genuine prominence. And anyone who knows about the history of Rudd's approach to this issue is entitled to be cynical.
Anyhoo. Abbott moves around the room blocking up when he gets to a group of camos. The loud roar that ensues overwhelms Joe Hockey who has joined the drinks late. Pet. A Credlin who stands at the edge of the room sullenly casts a glare to the group photo of Abbott and the camos that has been set up.
Across the street in another bar a few Coalition staffers are looking exceedingly happy with themselves. But in the same bar a couple of Labor staffers I run into look less ebullient. Another day and no Rudd magic.

Rudd's late conversion to gay marriage

You have to admire Rudd for the audacity of his conversion to the case of same-sex marriage. He and Labor so desperately want it to be the issue of the campaign - Rudd is looking to the future; Abbott is stuck in the past seeing it as just as a "fad". But  what makes Rudd's new-found support for gay and lesbian marriage so amazing was his approach to the issue in his first term as Prime Minister. He so desparately tried to stop it being a political issue.
In the lead-up to the 2007 election Rudd made a similar announcement about the right of same-sex couples: discrimination would be removed from Commonwealth laws by a future Labor Government. It was an attempt to paint the Howard Government as stuck in the past given it had baulked at removing discrimination from superannuation laws.
But Rudd's pledge came with a very clear proviso - it did not include removing the bar on same-sex wedlock from the Marriage Act. This was a key issue for Rudd and he gave a rock solid guarantee to the Australian Christian Lobby that under no circumstances would Labor legalise same-sex marriage. Not only did he see it as an important matter of principle as a Christian but it was seen as politically imperative to win the religious vote, particularly in Western Sydney marginal seats.
After the election, Jim Wallace and Lyle Sheldon of the ACL never let Rudd forget his promise. They were regularly up in Parliament House to badger Rudd and his ministers and remind them of the pledge.
But it caused real problems within Labor, particularly for members of the Left who had long campaigned on the issue. Within Labor's senior ranks there was a great deal of discomfort. Penny Wong and Anthony Albanese, who has the seat of Grayndler with a high number of GLBTI couples, were particularly exercised.
Then, soon after the Federal election, ACT chief minister Jon Stanhope brought the matter to a head by announcing he would allow same-sex civil unions in Canberra.
Rudd was apoplectic sending out his then deputy chief of staff Alistair Jordan to put the weights on Stanhope and his deputy Katie Gallagher to drop their plans. As reported at time they threatened to ask the Governor-General to over-ride the Territory if the law was passed.
The announcement of the legislation to remove discrimination from 86 commonwealth pieces of legislation provided the cover - "we'll look like we are taking practical action to removing discrimination against same-sex couples, while you're getting hung up on symbolism".
"If you do this my man's support will go from 55 to 65, and you'll drop ten points," Jordan reportedly told Stanhope.
Sheldon and Wallace were also in Rudd's ear egging him on.
Stanhope eventually backed down but the deep scars in Labor remained. At the Labor national conference later that year, the left pushed to change the party platform to recognise same-sex marriage. But with gay and lesbian campaigners holding a protest outside the Darling Harbour convention centre and Anthony Albanese and Louise Pratt pushing the issue strongly inside, Rudd went AWOL.
He refused to attend the conference until the issue was put to bed. There was no way he wanted to come into the conference and be confronted by protestors and journos while the issue was still alive.
Rudd through his staff wouldn't budge on the issue but the Left wanted to push it to a debate on the floor of the conference.
Over Saturday and into Sunday morning, factional meetings were held and huddles were held to try to find a compromise. Rudd was nowhere to be seen.
In the end, the Right faction led by Mark Arbib fell in behind Rudd and the Left had no option but to accept a highly watered down motion.
The irony that it was the Left that provided Rudd his biggest support base through people like Albo and Doug Cameron during this year's leadership battles has not been lost on many.  Perhaps a few debts are now being repaid by Rudd. But it is sad that it has taken nearly six years for Rudd to come around on the issue and only make the pledge in an election which it looks like he will lose.

Day 2 - Abbott gets his head stuck up his arse

The first week of the 2004 election on the campaign trail with Mark Latham was much like the Opposition leader's personality - erratic. Large periods of time standing around not knowing what was going on. Announcements scheduled but no rooms booked for engagements.
Labor's campaign in 2013 has many of the same hallmarks. The reason may well be the same. In 2004, there was a fundamental disconnect between Latham's traveling party and Labor HQ. A similar thing seems to be happening again between Rudd and the party machine, although campaign insiders say the communication with the Rudd camp is reasonable.
By contrast, the Liberal campaign is a military operation. Planning for this campaign started soon after the last and the day by day schedule has been nailed down months in advance.
Last week, the theme was about tax - carbon tax and lower corporate tax. This week, seems to be about infrastructure. But things can't always go to plan.
Monday's campaign event is at Vic Roads operation room as a backdrop for an announcement on infrastructure and traffic congestion.
It's in the safe Liberal seat of Kooyong. The seat holder Josh Frydenberg is not there but no doubt he'll write an OpEd about it soon.
Abbott strides into the control room sticking out his large mitt to the workers - "Tony Abbott how are ya."
At the front of the room huge screens display the morning traffic. Abbott positions himself under the screens for the cameras waving airily up at the images. Click click.
"It's an amazingly sophisticated system," he says grasping for something to say.
In campaign engagements like this it's hard making meaningful small talk, especially when you forget your host's name as Abbott does on this occasion. But he tries his best, murmuring appreciatively again and again, "sophisticated system" as he is briefed on the morning traffic.
Unfortunately, traffic isn't what it should be on Monday morning, especially when the Liberal announcement is about reducing traffic congestion. Up the back of the room Vic Roads staff fret that traffic is moving too well.
"It is ridiculously good. What are the chances," says one.
Small talk over, Abbott strides out of the room pausing only photo opportunity for when spotting an Indian face.
He disappears for half an hour with staff to get his lines right for the ensuing press conference. Journos brainstorm questions for the presser.
When Abbott re-emerges its a fairly standard press conference - questions about Rudd's use of notes, opinion polls and GST. It's hard to find something to say about an election which is increasingly about nothing.
Journos jostle and shout to get a question in. Our editors are back home watching the vision, marking us on our impertinence, our questions and the volume of our voices.
I want to be the infrastructure PM, Abbott declares. He's got the grab for the nightly news.
One of Abbott's flacks collars me and complains my story in the morning paper is wrong.
I politely suggest that he fuck off and ask him to tell me what is wrong. He clearly hasn't read the story so he shakes his head and says "it's just wrong alright".
A quick coffee and then it is out to Liberal function in the seat of Deakin to launch the campaign of nice looking but bland tax lawyer, Michael Sukkar. He's a Liberal candidate from central casting. We are assured his name is pronounced "Sew-ker" and not "Sucker". Possibly he's both.

The room is festooned and upbeat seniors chat congenially. There is optimism that MC Sukkar is on his way from the Melbourne burbs to Canberra.
Abbott's entrance is greeted with loud cheers. But funnily enough when he drops his clanger "the suppository" of all wisdom, there is not a murmur. Just a few uncomfortable shuffles.
Gold. The pack loves it. There's the story for a day earlier shaping as a news desert.
"The headline should be Abbott gives bum steer," reports the News Ltd journo to her newsroom late.
My news room as well wants me to make sure I get suppository into the lead of my story, even though we all know that by the morning readers will have heard the gag a million times already. Nevertheless, arse jokes are the kind that keep on giving.
Who knows what was going through Abbott's mind when he said it. Perhaps it a case of when your head is stuck up your arse for so long, it colours your views. Someone on Twitter suggested the anal fixation is a Catholic thing.
However, I have a sneaking suspicion it was a case of impish humour on Abbott's part. The consumate public speaker, Abbott choses his words for effect. Just before delivering the gaffe there was an imperceptible pause. For a politician seen as robotic, perhaps such gaffes are intended to have a humanising effect.
Campaign event over, there's yet more standing around. There's campaign merch to peruse for the interested - the China mining boom is over but there's plenty of clothing to be made for campaign launches like this.
The few journos who still smoke, nick off for a furtive puff. In campaigns gone by much of the bus would be having a ciggie. These days it is a handful and they are forced to keep their increasingly expensive addiction out of sight.
Back on the bus we flee back into Melbourne CBD to the safe environs of Collingwood. The posters of Adam Bandt

 and a bookstore advertising books by David Marr and Laura Tingle warm the hearts of inner-city dwelling journos such as myself after a morning in the burbs.

One of the camos is a local and directs the pack to a local burger bar for lunch - a cafe in honour of the Cosby Show - Huxtables. It's greasy inner city burger fare.    Nick Cater eat your heart out.

Day 1 - the smell of burning plastic

Lou Reed says it is best. It's the beginning of a great adventure. Canberra lights fall away beneath me as the Abbott press pack moves on to Melbourne.

The plane is an old Fokker and there is an alarming acrid smell of burning plastic. Not to worry, my mind is taken off the smell by engines which intermittently roar and sigh.

Under two hours ago the debate between Kevin Rudd and Tony Abbott finished. It's likely to be the only debate of the campaign but already the minds of the assembled media pack have moved on. That's the way it is these days. The moment, the moment, the moment. It burns brightly when the cameras are on. But when the cameras flick off, the pack moves on. The twitter buzz subsides as the next big issue takes off. It's on to the next moment.

Politics is now just a string of moments with few connecting threads of reality.

Labor's campaign has looked exactly the same.

But there is little of the talk among press that occupies my twitter feed of who won and who lost the debate. In truth, it was a nil all draw and it had all the energy of an old people's home. But in the context of this campaign it was all important. Rudd needed to cut through and land some blows. He didn't. And in this campaign the fact he didn't was enough for Abbott to claim it as a win.

For weeks, Rudd had been goading Abbott to debate him. On climate change, On the economy. On national security. On anything for FFS just get Abbott into the same room as me.

But when the time arrived, Rudd seemed distracted rather than ready to grab the opportunity when it came.

Both looked nervous but Rudd's trademark confidence was nowhere to be seen. Flicking nervously through notes, he stuttered through an opening. His hands conducted a symphony for an orchestra that just didn't seem on tune.

Using notes should be no great crime provided they had some content. But the lack of any compelling content of Rudd's opening made his note reading even more distracting.

This was not the Rudd of 2007 but the Rudd of 2009, who became addicted to bullet points at the dispatch box. Even worse, when he departed from script he rambled enabling Abbott to deliver the most telling blow of the night - "If any of you can remember the debate with Mr Howard in 2007, he said almost the same thing and the trouble is we've just got the same waffle today".

At the Fairbairn airbase before the press pack arrives from the National Press Club the demeanour of the respective campaign teams tell the story of the night. 

Liberal Party campaign director Brian Loughnane and party pollster Mark Textor look relaxed while waiting for the plane. Loughnane talks easily on his mobile, while Textor looks idly at messages on his phone. Neither look troubled. Textor is feeding Twitter with messages to stoke the hubbub around Rudd's use of notes during the debate. Philip Ruddock wanders through the lounge looking for relevance long gone. The Liberal eminence Gris is on the road to keep Abbott on the straight and narrow.

Yet next door the Rudd camp look less at ease. Long-time Labor campaign consigliere John Faulkner rarely cracks a smile. Tonight is no exception.

There are four weeks to go in this long campaign and no doubt things will change. But this wasn't the campaign changing moment that Labor had been hoping for.

Wheels down. Thank God. The Hyatt awaits and a half full bottle of Vietnamese mushroom whiskey beckons.