Tie adds to Abbott's blues

Tony Abbott in one of his blue ties. Picture: Getty Images

The blue tie. Tony Abbott’s sartorial quirk has long been despised and lampooned by his haters.

In the eyes of Julia Gillard and her diehard supporters, the tie became the symbol of the misogyny campaign.

But the blue tie has developed a new symbolism not foreseen by the focus group that prescribed it. Liberal MPs are reporting that it has become a real irritant, even among their hardcore supporters.

On the weekend, some Liberals MPs found that the blue tie was again being cited by constituents when they went back to their electorates after the horribleness of last week.

Fairly or unfairly, the blue tie that Abbott adopted to ensure his attire never distracted from his disciplined message has become the hook on which his stubbornness, his unchangeability and his monochromatic political posturing is hung.

Trivial? Not trivial enough for a couple of brave backbenchers to raise the blue tie “thing” with the PM when he did his New Year summer ring around.

The backbenchers got the sort of an answer he offered Andrew Bolt when the News Corp columnist raised the topic on Sunday.

“There’s the budgie smugglers, there’s the firefighter’s uniform, and there’s the blue tie,” Abbott told Bolt.

“I mean, look, blue is my favourite colour, and I guess I have quite a big collection of blue ties. There’s dark blue, there’s light blue, there’s blue mixes, as this one is.

“I like them. And I guess my uniform, if you like, Andrew, my work uniform is a dark suit, a white shirt and a shade of blue tie. I guess that’s just the way I’ve become.”

As much as a swift tailor might want it, Abbott can’t shake it off.

The blue tie needs an honourable exit, one that allows an obdurate Abbott to do it with dignity, good humour and grace. A surprising number of Abbott’s colleagues firmly believe this.

Here’s an idea.

Abbott should put his necktie to auction. Not the tie itself but the space it now commands in voters’ consciousness, to drive discussion of a important issues overlooked in the political focus on budget repair, the cost of living or families.

He might want to begin with homelessness or indigenous disadvantage. Allow a charity of his choosing to set a fundraising target which, if reached, triggers a week of different coloured prime ministerial ties.

For that week, Abbott would be literally adding another hue to his office; a new uniform that would be remembered, even if he did eventually return to the blue tie Monday to Friday.

It would be a simple and generous way for Abbott to adjust his image. And a neat way for a political albatross to be slayed.

Blue ties aside, what has notably changed since Abbott’s near fatal brush with his partyroom last week is the Prime Minister’s Office sudden warmth towards his colleagues.

Frontbenchers and backbenchers, many of whom have complained of being treated like underfoot detritus, are experiencing a wave of nauseating love from the PMO.

“It’s like being denied sugar for 16 months and then being invited into a candy shop to gorge yourself - you quickly feel sick,” said one senior Liberal.

They’ve been told how much their views and ideas are appreciated and valued by the Prime Minister. The haughtiness from on high has gone, as if by royal edict.

Since the leadership spill motion, Margie Abbott has often been seen by her husband’s side. Colleagues know this means that the PM’s chief of staff Peta Credlin must no longer be on the road so much.

Consequently, Credlin’s notoriously sticky in-tray is no longer so sticky and things have begun to flow a bit quicker through his office.

Some of the crossbenchers are also reporting a decidedly more respectful attitude. They say condescending tones are gone. Nor are they being as a single entity, but as individuals with their own concerns.

Christopher Pyne’s blacksmithing with independent John Madigan this week is the sort of smart relationship building we will see more of.

These developments have been broadly, but cautiously welcomed by the Liberal partyroom. The caution is borne out of natural suspicion that the saccharine collegiality will disappear when the leadership issue truly blows over. Which it hasn’t.
Leadership is still very much in play.

Malcolm Turnbull’s appearance on ABC TV’s Q&A program on Monday night was closely watched, as much for what he didn’t say as it was for what he did say.

For a man of rare eloquence, Turnbull has mastered the ability of speaking with deliberate obscurity.

He mischievously jousted at some of the trickier questions, inviting those listening to interpret his true answers rather than hear it directly.

Turnbull offered a leader-to-leader moment, speaking “directly” to Indonesian President Joko Widodo on the condemned Bali Nine ringleaders and he referred to Abbott’s decision to sack Philip Ruddock as “captain’s pick” – the new pejorative for a dumb decision.

These are deliberate markers for the Liberal backbench when making their comparison with Abbott, as was his advice against sloganeering when selling the economic message.

While Turnbull’s appearance on Q&A confirmed his pre-eminence among modern day politicians, it has also irritated some of the more conservative Liberals who rankle at his moderate views.

As she was in the lead-up to the leadership spill motion, Julie Bishop is being looked upon as a credible consensus candidate: smart, articulate, dignified and without the suspect baggage that weighs down Turnbull.

Barring a major mishap, Abbott has the May Budget and a month or so afterwards to prove to his colleagues he has what it takes to take them to the next election.

But he remains under probation. His blue tie included.