"Shhh, Sir! Walls have ears. Even Here." "No, Rachel, not here. The GCSB sweeps this place every week. We can speak freely here."
A PRIVATE DINING-ROOM in an exclusive Wellington
restaurant. Seated at a window table and reading a newspaper is JULIAN, a
well-dressed senior officer in the NZ Security Intelligence Service. The door
opens and a waiter ushers in RACHEL, a much younger officer.
RACHEL: That’s not The Guardian I see you
reading, is it Sir? Tsk, tsk! What would the Minister say?
JULIAN: Well, yes, I’m afraid it is, Rachel. I’m keen
to discover exactly how much they actually know about our SAS deployment in
Iraq.
RACHEL: Shhhh, Sir! Walls have ears! Even here.
JULIAN: No, Rachel, not here. The GCSB sweeps this
place every week. We can speak freely here.
RACHEL: Well, that’s good to know because I’ve just
received some very interesting intelligence from one of our more reliable
sources in the Labour caucus.
JULIAN: Hah! I’m relieved to hear that at least one
of them is reliable! What have you been told?
RACHEL: It’s your old friend, Mr Cunliffe.
He’s leaving Parliament.
JULIAN: About bloody time!
RACHEL: I thought you’d be pleased.
JULIAN: More relieved than pleased, Rachel. Cunliffe
was a real problem.
RACHEL: For a while.
JULIAN: Oh, for more than a while, I think. From the
moment he began to grasp the implications and ramifications of the Global
Financial Crisis the man’s been a bloody great thorn in our side. Vaunting
ambition armed with a convincing explanation. Nothing is more dangerous to the
status quo than a man in a hurry with a story that makes sense.
RACHEL: Not that very many people ever got to hear
it.
JULIAN: No, that’s true. But we were forced to rely
on the media to an extent that made me distinctly uncomfortable.
RACHEL: But it worked, didn’t it? Our journalistic
assets made sure that Cunliffe’s message never got taken seriously.
JULIAN: Oh yes, it worked. But the media is an
unreliable ally. All it takes is for someone like Cunliffe to say something on
live television or radio that resonates with the electorate. Something that
can’t be edited out. Something that sets people on fire. When that happens the
bloody journos just can’t help themselves. A story – is a story – is a story.
RACHEL: But Cunliffe did just the opposite, didn’t
he? I mean, if we had worked night-and-day for a month we couldn’t have come up
with anything half as good as “I’m sorry I’m a man.”
JULIAN: Heh-heh! No. That was way beyond even our
most sanguine expectations!
RACHEL: And even if Cunliffe had said something …
inconvenient … we were still covered. Didn’t you tell me that there was plenty
up the Service’s sleeve if the campaign looked about to tip Cunliffe’s way?
Something about a woman? Or was it two women?
JULIAN: Oh yes, there was plenty in reserve if
something was needed to “shift the narrative” – as our academic friends might
say.
RACHEL: Like a $100,000 bottle of wine?
JULIAN: Like a $100,000 bottle of wine.
RACHEL: And then there were the ABCs – although they
never needed much in the way of encouragement from us!
JULIAN: No, they didn’t. But it was good to know they
were there. Nothing turns the voters off faster than the spectacle of public
disunity – let alone open revolt.
RACHEL: They would really have gone that far?
JULIAN: Rachel, my dear, they would have gone as far
as tearing the Labour Party into bloody little chunks on the six o’clock news
if that was what it took to prevent Cunliffe becoming Prime Minister. These are
seriously unpleasant people – even by our rather loose standards.
RACHEL: Well, I suppose we only have to look at
what’s happening in the UK to get some idea of what Labour MPs are prepared to
do to ensure that a socialist never becomes prime minister. I had no idea MI5
had so many of them in its pocket.
JULIAN: No, neither did I. It has really been quite
an impressive demonstration.
RACHEL: Corbyn’s still there, though.
JULIAN: For now. We, on the other hand, have
something a little closer to home to celebrate. Some Champagne, I think.
RACHEL: Excellent idea, Sir! But, before we
celebrate, I’d like to know why you think it took Cunliffe so long to take the
hint – or should that be hints?
JULIAN: Do you know, I think it can be put down to
his misplaced faith in Andrew Little. He really did believe that the man he
helped to install as leader was a politician after his own, rather soft,
Anglican heart. That although Little had to pretend to the ABCs that he shared
their loathing of him, Cunliffe was convinced that, deep down, what Little
really shared was his ideas. That, when victory came, there would be a prime,
if not a prime-ministerial, job for him in the new Labour-Green cabinet. It’s
taken him two years to realise that, in the highly unlikely event that Labour
does win the 2017 election, there will be nothing for David Cunliffe. Nothing
at all.
RACHEL: Good to know that Little can be relied upon
to do the right thing.
JULIAN: Yes, it is, isn’t it? Cause for celebration.
See if you can find that waiter, will you.
This sketch was
originally posted on The Daily Blog
of Wednesday, 2 November 2016.