It’s the stuff of a Yes Minister episode. Allegations of files being deleted. Computers taken from offices. Reports to Parliament being changed to improve the government’s performance. Investigations into ministers kept secret. Attempts to have the head of bodies overseeing the government sacked.
These are not accusations being levelled at Joh Bejlke-Petersen’s Queensland. This is Annastacia Palaszczuk’s Queensland, 35 years after Tony Fitzgerald QC and his seminal report rewrote history. And how she handles the swag of complaints about honesty and transparency and accountability will dictate how much of a problem she will face.
These are uncharted waters for this state government. Palaszczuk has not had to deal with accusations directed at her government’s integrity, and that’s been clear in how she’s handled allegations from the state’s former activist, the outgoing integrity commissioner, the former acting legal services commissioner and a senior government adviser.
Together those four have alleged annual reports have been changed, files deleted, a computer confiscated, ministers using personal email accounts to avoid scrutiny, and difficulty for public servants and watchdogs to provide independent advice — and keep their jobs.
Her response? To ask her director-general — the state’s most senior public servant — to investigate some of those claims and to ignore the rest.
That ended yesterday, after days of strong criticism and her director-general informing the premier she did not want the perception of a conflict in running an integrity probe into some of the accusations. That meant Palasczcuk was forced to back down, and now a QC will wrestle with accusations made by former state archivist Mike Summerell that include a raft of complaints — from reports being kept secret to others being altered to make the government look better.
But the government, hell-bent on creating a narrative, might have been too clever by half. That integrity probe just looks at a slice of the accusations. What about claims that a computer was taken from the integrity commissioner’s office and files deleted? And that she was secretly referred to a parliamentary committee in a bid to have her removed? What about the claims that lawyers got to pick their own watchdog? Or that ministers used their private emails to skirt around requirements that enveloped work accounts?
The government thought it had dealt with integrity complaints by announcing a narrow, limited inquiry by Tony Fitzgerald QC into the state’s anti-corruption watchdog; that the focus would move from its performance to that of one of those independent bodies.
Even there, it was careful to ensure there was little wriggle room for Fitzgerald. The inquiry, which began on Monday, is unlikely to have public hearings, and will be confined to probing the structure of the Crime and Corruption Commission and the legislation around it.
The commissioners say they do not intend to extend those terms of reference.
The problem for the government is that a host of accusations — including those made by the state’s integrity commissioner — continue to be unaddressed.
Why wouldn’t a government that boasts about its record of accountability want to shut down the serious accusations being levelled at it? Hubris? Fear of what might be found? A disregard for voters?
Whatever it is, the government will need to deal with it, or the bruising it has had this week will develop into an open sore.
