Jacinda Ardern’s resignation has sparked shock and dismay, and not only at home, where Labour must now rush to replace the prime minister without an obvious heir in sight. “Jacindamania” waned in New Zealand, but has continued to flourish in the wider anglophone world. Yet her decision should be applauded as well as lamented. Convinced of their own indispensability, politicians often cling on too long. Even successful leaders need to know when it’s time to go.
Nelson Mandela set the gold standard, stepping down after one term as president though so many were desperate for him to continue. The issue was less his ability to serve than the symbolic importance of a democratic transition in South Africa. In contrast, even admirers saw Winston Churchill’s return to office following his crushing postwar defeat by Labour as a mistake. He confided in Rab Butler that he felt “like an aeroplane at the end of its flight … with the petrol running out”.
Ms Ardern echoed that sentiment with her remark that she “no longer [has] enough in the tank to do it justice”. The difference is that her judgment was not shared by others. Though her party’s ratings are the lowest since it took office in 2017 and her own approval ratings have fallen, she remained the most popular choice for prime minister in polls. Labour’s battle in this autumn’s election will be far tougher without her. Some supporters are likely to feel let down as well as disappointed, while recognising the unusual pressures she has faced.
It was not only her empathy but her decisiveness in response to crises – the Christchurch terror attack of 2019 and the advent of Covid-19 – that won her admiration. She saw through firearms reform; a speedy and effective pandemic response; the Zero Carbon Act. She was a canny political operator as well as a charismatic leader. But the government’s extraordinary popularity plunged as the cost of living soared and, despite progress on housebuilding and child poverty, it has struggled with promises – perhaps unsurprising with so much else on its plate.
There is no doubt that her leadership shone all the brighter as machismo and the deliberate fomenting of division appeared to be triumphing internationally. (Intriguingly, a new study suggests that greater female representation in legislatures may help to ameliorate political polarisation.) She filled a vacuum for progressives seeking hope in the age of Donald Trump, Scott Morrison and Boris Johnson. The respect and admiration she received offered hope that female leaders, too, can triumph, albeit under tougher conditions, following the misogyny so openly dealt out to Hillary Clinton and Julia Gillard. Many attempted to patronise Ms Ardern; even her resignation has been scrutinised through the bizarre, antiquated lens of whether women “can have it all”. None succeeded, though perhaps the greater challenges she faced have contributed to an earlier exit.
Ms Ardern treated political office as a responsibility rather than a lark or rightful reward for her genius. Part of that responsibility, she noted on Thursday, is “to know when you are the right person to lead, and also when you are not”. Just as her “kind, but strong” style of leadership contrasted with the macho posturing seen elsewhere, so her departure looks all the more admirable in a world where Jair Bolsonaro and Mr Trump have sought to cling on even after the electorate voted to boot them out.
