Prince Philip knighthood is heck of an own goal for

 THE AUSTRALIAN  JANUARY 28, 2015 12:00AM Janet Albrechtsen

Columnist Sydney

THERE is no polite way to describe the Prime Minister’s decision to award a knighthood to Prince Philip. Let’s opt for a rough Latin phrase that sums up the comments of some of Tony Abbott’s close Liberal MPs: Caput ex ano extrahe. It’s something about a head being within close proximity of a backside. And when you get text messages from conservative friends in Queensland asking, “Has Tony completely lost the plot?” you know 2015 is starting out as an annus horribilis for Abbott and the government. The unanswered question is: why? If the PM didn’t foresee that this decision would be controversial, raise questions about his judgment and potentially damage his leadership, you have to ask: why not? If the PM knew all of that, you have to ask why he did it. Clearly the uproar is not simply on social media. The criticism extends beyond anonymous graffiti on the side of a building, as the PM has described it. Abbott’s captain’s call picked an unnecessary fight over a minor issue on Australia Day when MPs would be chatting among themselves and with voters at functions. The common sentiment was utter bewilderment. The year needed to kick off with a great start. A good start was not enough. Instead, it’s kicked off with one heck of an own goal. And the eternal lesson of politics is that people can hate you, even distrust you, but when people, apart from your usual critics, start to ridicule you, it’s difficult to recover. Let’s count the reasons, in no particular order, why Abbott’s decision is so damn confounding. First, as Laurie Oakes tweeted, “Tony Abbott is doing more for republic cause than Bill Shorten.” If it were just about the republican debate, we could discuss why Australians appear to favour keeping our current system. Many do so not out of deep fealty to the monarchy and all things British, but because since 1999 Australia has projected itself as a confident, independent country with institutions and a system of governance that works. Among the comments from MPs made to Oakes, the one that sticks the most is surely this: “It’s holding a big finger up to Australians and saying: ‘I don’t care what you think’.” There’s no suggestion of malice. Abbott doesn’t do malice. But his views about the monarchy are more in synch with the 1950s than 2015. Among 20 million Australians, surely the PM could have found someone of achievement to bestow a knighthood or damehood on, instead of a member of the royal family. Philip is a fine man but he’s not Australian — the very first criterion Abbott himself set for the new honours. Oh, and giving another title to the prince is like giving Carrie Bradshaw another pair of shoes. Most baffling is why Abbott hasn’t worked out that if you have an image problem, you try to fix it, not feed it. Like it or not, many regard Abbott as a relic from the past. It’s nonsense. But Monday’s decision — which took even ministers by surprise — only plays to that image problem. Part of the reason for Abbott’s decision is he is a man of long and deeply held convictions. In an age when conviction politicians are rare, that should be respected. But politics is the art of persuasion. Convictions must therefore be tempered with pragmatism, good judgment and listening to others. Abbott’s convictions about the monarchy are well known but awarding a knighthood to a member of the royal family lacked common sense; it came from a man whose finger is not on the pulse of the people. Finance Minister Mathias Cormann struggled to defend the PM’s decision on ABC radio’s AM yesterday. Even his tone was downcast, so much so that he audibly perked up when asked about budget problems. Many of the budget missteps are due to the same lack of pragmatism. A lower Medicare co-payment would have illustrated conviction and pragmatism. So would something less than full deregulation of university fees. Flip-flops on Medicare have been policy death by a thousand cuts. It’s mystifying that, so far, Abbott’s prime ministership has to be marked down for these and other leadership errors. In many ways, he’s the opposite of former prime minister Kevin Rudd. It became a famous in-house Labor joke that it was only those who had never met Rudd who liked him. Those who knew Rudd were not surprised that he was a disaster as PM, that he treated people poorly, that control-freakery defined the prime minister’s office, that he ran a chaotic government and oversaw flip-flopping policy. It’s the polar opposite with Abbott. Those who know Abbott know him to be a truly decent, thoughtful, clever, and genuinely curious man. Even his political opponents have found it hard not to respect and like him. Which is why those close to him are genuinely surprised that Abbott is struggling to get a fix on the leadership. Abbott learned politics at the feet of the master politician, . And seven years of Labor chaos provided a perfect contrast to the Howard years. The playbooks could not be more different. Yet last year, backbenchers — and even ministers — complained that Abbott wasn’t listening to their concerns. It was a welcome start to the year that the PM started talking directly to more backbenchers. This last decision won’t allay concerns. Team Australia was a nice, if clumsy, idea. But first the PM needs to unify Team Abbott. It’s worth remembering what Billy Snedden, an unpopular - opposition leader, said to a delegation of disgruntled backbenchers in November 1974: “I’ve made some mistakes … I made a mistake not having some of you bastards in (my office) for more grog.” Abbott’s decision to bestow a knighthood on Philip is a trifling one. It has no bearing on the budget. It doesn’t touch voters’ wallets. It’s not an issue to die in a ditch over. That’s why it’s so perplexing. It gives a free kick to an opposition devoid of a plan to fix the budget and reform a sluggish economy. With even close supporters bewildered, it’s a reminder of GK Chesterton’s observation: “ ‘My country, right or wrong,’ is a thing that no patriot would think of saying … It is like saying, ‘My mother, drunk or sober.’ ” [email protected]