The John Barilaro scandal is no longer just a foul stench hanging over the NSW government. It’s a cloud of mustard gas dealing death in its wake.
Yesterday’s evidence from Jenny West, the successful candidate for the New York trade commission post who was flicked because the job was to be, in the words of her tormentor Amy Brown, “a present for someone”, has ratcheted the scandal to a new level.
The treatment of West — told the bad news by Brown during an absurd “walking meeting” on Balmoral Beach — is remarkable for its brutality: not merely did she have the job offer — complete with signed brief by then premier Gladys Berejiklian — revoked, she then learnt her actual position had been terminated as well.
Proceedings have now reached the ugly “what did the premier know and when did he know it” stage.
Perrottet has claimed to NSW Parliament that there were no suitable candidates for the job, a statement he now says was based on apparently faulty advice. But his predecessor was personally aware of the appointment of West. Where did the idea of a lack of suitable candidates come from? Some panicked staffer in Perrottet’s office who failed to check the records?
At the very least, Perrottet was allowed to walk into Parliament and, it seems, mislead it on a very straightforward fact. But what was the origin of the deception if it was a mistake?
There’s also the matter of the leak to The Australian from the Legislative Council committee of in-camera evidence from Brown about her belated — and very convenient — discovery of alleged issues with West. Yesterday one of the Nationals MPs on the committee, Wes Fang, tried to use proceedings to put pressure on West over whether she would seek compensation for her treatment.
Is there a deliberate government plan to try to discredit West, knowing the evidence she would give? Or just some rogue MLCs trying to derail a profoundly damaging inquiry?
Next time a witness gives in-camera evidence to an upper house inquiry in NSW, can they be sure it won’t be leaked for partisan purposes? A very dangerous precedent has been set.
Perrottet is strangely passive in the face of all this. True, he has had yet another flood crisis to deal with. But he has allowed his government to be hostage to the drip-drip-drip of revelations from an inquiry controlled by his political opponents. And having been — apparently — badly misled by his staff and department, you would expect any decent premier to go on the warpath and demand answers, even if only to ensure he was not made a goose of and mislead Parliament again.
If Perrottet is the cleanskin he wants us to believe — the one who defended ICAC from Scott Morrison and who committed to end pork-barrelling — he should be far more front-footed in dealing with the stench left over from a darker and more corrupt time in NSW politics, one when allocating taxpayer money for political purposes and jobs for the boys were standard Macquarie St practices.
An ICAC investigation would be welcome. It has far more evidence-gathering powers than a Legislative Council inquiry. And it would address a crucial point: just because something isn’t a criminal offence doesn’t mean it isn’t corruption and abuse of public office.
If the New York gig was a “present”, then that’s a perfect case of corruption that doesn’t break the law. As Michael Yabsley wrote a fortnight ago, it’s important that we expand our understanding of corruption to encompass the misuse and abuse of power whether it’s criminal or not.
Meanwhile, Perrottet presides with peculiar passivity over a growing crisis not of his making but surely needing his leadership.
