Late last year Liberal Party Deputy Leader Julie Bishop complained in Online Opinion that Foreign Minister Bob Carr had undermined the Prime Minister's authority on the UN vote on Palestine . He had 'run a guerrilla campaign' among the backbench to 'get his way' in Caucus, so as to 'roll her' in Cabinet. Such treachery must be condemned because 'a prime minister without authority cannot function ... for very long'.
As a politician and lawyer she knew Carr infringed no constitutional rule or convention; it was, in fact, common or garden Westminster politics, with members free to discuss proposals and compete for support. She was, it seems, committed to a view which goes further than doctrines of party unity and joint cabinet responsibility — ministers must support a prime minister's views even before Cabinet addresses them.
This view of politics helps explain why there has been so little controversy in the Liberal Party on issues such as the Iraq War, the Apology, refugees, same-sex marriage, gambling reform etc. which divide the nation. It explains why there were only five 'conscience votes' during Howard's reign and why 'crossing the floor' is so rare.
But this impressive record of loyalty is also a history of moral self-subordination and, contrary to the Deputy Leader's views, a matter for shame rather than pride. She is, in effect, taking to extremes a doctrine of unity which is responsible for much of what is wrong in politics.
To understand why, consider reconciliation. The Liberal Party denied an apology during the years of the Howard administration, but changed its policy as soon as a new leader made it expedient. No one sought a 'conscience' vote when the policy began or was rejected but all members, with the exception of Howard, joined in the celebratory sitting in Parliament House.
Likewise with Labor, whose members sign a pledge of loyalty. It seems astonishing now that, despite opposition to the Iraq War, no member would support a formal inquiry into the evidence said to justify it, including claims now known to have been fabricated by Rafid al-Janabi, known as 'curveball' by US intelligence officials.
It is hard to dismiss the conjecture that this was because Labor leaders were wedded to the alliance and back-benchers were sworn to unity. They were against the war, but an inquiry might offend US sensibilities.
On the present issue — should Australia support a higher UN status for Palestine — it is clear that Bishop sees herself and fellow shadow ministers as obliged to accept Tony Abbott's opinions, regardless of the nation's interests, much less those of Israel and Palestine. It gives his views priority over principles of international law as well as a need to defuse tensions and secure a lasting Middle-East peace.
In Bishop's political world these matters are not determinative; whether they play any role at all will depend on Abbott's wishes.
This is why her theory of duty must be rejected as profoundly irrational. When people take a stand on a matter of principle, to oppose a war or racial discrimination, or to support reform of gambling or election finance laws, they do so for reasons of fairness, humanity, justice etc. that they believe are important, and see themselves as sharing with the community.
But their case rests on a judgment of these values and how they apply. The fact that it is their opinion is no part of it; even less is it relevant that someone they admire — be it Mahatma Ghandi or the leader of the Liberal Party — has a view. To cite this as a reason is to misunderstand the logic of argument — it treats opinions as values when it is the opinion itself which must be justified.
To put this in general terms, a moral system based on values is inherently personal in that no one can justify a judgment on a matter of principle by citing someone else's opinion. When politicians do this under a doctrine of party unity they abdicate their duty to defend community values — they violate, to use Edmund Burke's language, a sacred trust 'for the abuse of which they are deeply answerable'.
Someone whose politics is guided by values will assess opinions in light of principles of humanity, justice, benevolence, fairness, human dignity etc., and respond accordingly. In considering the apology he will look to the merit of Howard's arguments that past officials did what they thought best, and that a government is not responsible for the wrongs of its predecessors. He will judge these claims for himself, not defer to Howard's view.
This leaves a puzzle: how can an accomplished politician and lawyer, indeed a prospective prime minister, criticise Carr for doing what anyone who cares about the substance of politics — to serve the interests of the community while respecting its values — takes for granted?
The only explanation which comes to mind is a deep and abiding scepticism about values. It suggests the greater danger is not the growing religious and political fundamentalism, but a deep conviction that there is no such thing as moral truth, only the shifting sands of opinions.
Max Atkinson is a former senior lecturer of the Law School, University of Tasmania. His main areas of interest are in legal and moral philosophy, especially issues to do with rights, values, justice and punishment.