It appears that nothing is sacred or off-limits in politics any more.
The attention focused by the mainstream media on the claims and counter-claims
by US President, Bill Clinton, and former White House aide, Monica Lewinsky,
illustrate just how low standards have sunk.
Yet, it seems the American people – through national opinion polls
– are indicating they don’t care about their president’s
sex life, as long as he runs the country properly.
Most Americans see no reason for him to resign, even though a large minority
believe he may not be telling the truth about his relationship with Miss
Lewinsky.
In any event, even if the allegations about Clinton attributed to Miss Lewinsky
are true, I am sure she did not intend to help him blow his job.
Unfortunately, she appears to be caught in the middle of a very nasty storm
of allegations, innuendo and just plain fabrications.
Her apparent manipulation by Clinton’s political enemies – much
older and wiser operatives – indicates to me that she is someone who
is naive, immature, easily influenced and willing to swallow anything her
superiors may try to ram down her throat.
It seems only logical to me that such people should be weeded out during
the selection process for White House interns.
Perhaps the first thing Clinton should do is commission a new aides test
to ensure his administration employs only stable and level-headed young
people who can be trusted.
A scandal involving sex and politics – albeit on a much smaller scale
– hit Queensland recently when the estranged wife of Lands Minister,
Howard Hobbs, claimed some members of the Borbidge Cabinet are conducting
affairs with female staff members.
Mrs Hobbs suggested public funds are being misused in the conduct of such
liaisons.
I am not able to comment on the specifics of the claims raised by Mrs Hobbs,
having retired from the political arena a few years back. But this latest
scandal, which has now cost three ministers their jobs, is not new to the
state scene.
It has been common knowledge for some time now that former Minister Vince
Lester was not considered for a Borbidge ministry after being spotted walking
backways out of the central Queensland motel room of a female associate
several years ago.
But, I can say that in all the time I spent serving state and federal governments
of all colours, never once did I come across any shred of evidence suggesting
that any politician for whom I worked had conducted his or her duties in
anything other than the most scrupulous fashion.
There was never the merest whiff of scandal attached to any of my political
masters – even though some downmarket media outlets attempted to drum
up controversy where none existed.
Given that politics is still largely dominated by men, it is unfortunate
that unsubstantiated rumours about illicit liaisons with women under them
can gain currency very easily.
Of course some politicians are tarred with the brush of adultery even though
they do nothing to deserve it. One example is our Prime Minister, John Howard.
I joined John Howard’s staff shortly after the 1977 federal election
when he was Treasurer. It was soon apparent that poor John had a personal
cross to bear – women found him simply irresistible.
A young female staffer at the time – now happily married to a prominent
Yass accountant – explained to me what it was that drove women wild
about Howard. As she put it, it was something about his thinning hair, his
then uncapped teeth and unruly eyebrows – a sense of restrained sensuality
– that made Liberal women form their own “wet” faction.
Some of the young chaps then serving in the Treasurer’s office had
another explanation. Behind his back they playfully called him “Donkey”
Howard – no doubt a reference to his capacity for long hours of hard
work.
I soon worked out that tenacity – and not just power – can be
the ultimate aphrodisiac, to paraphrase former US Secretary of State, Henry
Kissinger.
Of course, young John Howard sailed through life completely unaware of his
effect on the women around him, but that did not stop the rumours.
However, I cannot recall a single conversation with him – or any of
the many ministers and prime ministers I served – about “intimate”
matters.
It really was a case of all work and no play with every one of the politicians
for whom I worked. Take, for example, the time I spent with former Opposition
Leader and Speaker of the House of Representatives, the late Billy Snedden.
When he became Leader of the Liberal Party after the 1972 federal election,
I was attached to his staff as a senior policy adviser.
I well recall a conversation – very late at night – in the Strangers’
Bar of old Parliament House. I remember the occasion because Mrs Snedden
had been away for several weeks on a world trip that Billy – he always
insisted I call him that – asked me to organise.
The first leg of the trip had been from Australia to Hong Kong and Billy
had that day received a postcard from her. The rest of her trip took her
to India, then through Africa, on to Europe, the UK and home. He read the
Hong Kong postcard quickly and then, putting it aside, our conversation
returned – as usual – to work.
"It gets so hard Rufus, especially in bed at night,” he confided.
I nodded both in agreement and sympathy. He was clearly missing his wife’s
support.
"It’s been a whole two days,” he said. Picking up the postcard
I noted that it had in fact been two weeks since his good wife had left
our shores, but I did not correct him. Billy continued: “I wish I could
just get another leg over.”
I was touched by his concern for his wife’s progress, but again did
not feel it appropriate to remind him that indeed the next leg of her trip
would soon be over and she would be home in a few short weeks.
Then he leaned towards me and whispered: “I might just have to call
on Mrs Palmer and her five daughters.” I was not surprised – he
often mentioned the helping hand he gave to the Palmer family, although
I had yet to meet them. He leaned back, in an expansive mood. "You
know Rufus,” he said, “I wouldn't be surprised if I end up dying
on the job.”
Billy could obviously sense my shock at such an overt reference to his selflessness.
"Don’t worry, it’s supposed to be a great way to go,”
he laughed. Such was his disregard for his own well-being and his overwhelming
desire to help others. I treasure the time I spent with Billy Snedden and
hold no bitterness towards him for the manner in which I left his staff.
We fell out just a few months after the 1974 federal election when –
again in the Strangers’ Bar – he confided that he had presented
one of the young and, dare I say, attractive secretaries in the office with
a valuable piece of jewellery for all her hard work.
Ever mindful of the pecuniary interest requirements applying to ministerial
staff, I approached the young lass in question and asked to see the item
so it could be valued and declared on the central register of gifts then
held in the Department of Prime Minister and Cabinet.
To this day I still do not know why Billy made such a fuss about my modus
operandi. Nor can I understand how even an 18-year-old typist could have
managed to lose such a large pearl necklace.
Rufus Badinage MBE, now retired, is one of Australia’s
leading
experts on politics and public administration having worked as a
senior bureaucrat for various state and federal governments.
