On a trip to Australia, I discover that a day is a very long time in politics Down Under

Douglas Alexander's Notebook.

I arrive Down Under as a guest of the Australian government, but my breakfast appointment on the first morning happens to be with none other than Alastair Campbell. He’s in Sydney simultaneously to support the British and Irish Lions and to talk about his diaries.

At a table overlooking the Sydney Opera House, we discuss the picture on the front page of every newspaper – showing Prime Minister Julia Gillard knitting a woollen kangaroo for the royal baby. John McTernan, also previously of Downing Street, now her communications director, is quoted in the coverage as saying the idea “was a no-brainer”.

Cool prime time

The previous day Alastair had been ushered in to see the prime minister in Canberra by John and he echoes the judgement of others, saying she seemed very calm under fire. Given the papers’ comments about her royal roo pose, it’s a quality she’ll need today. My next meeting is with a former Labor prime minister, Paul Keating. Now retired, he remains fascinating and stimulating company.

The sound of power

No sooner have we discussed the role of Kondratieff waves in advanced capitalist economies than Keating is explaining – as a lover of antique clocks – that he used to read the Christie’s catalogue during cabinet meetings. When I ask him what he believes the prime political virtues are, he replies without hesitation: “Imagination and courage.” He then explains that he drew his inspiration and got his best ideas in government by listening to music – “the highest form of art” – and to Shostakovich in particular.

Next it’s down to Canberra, amid growing speculation of a challenge that afternoon by Kevin Rudd to Julia Gillard’s leadership. Parliament is in its last week before a long break, so it’s his last chance to challenge her ahead of the election scheduled for September. The Gillard/Rudd rivalry over recent years makes the periodic outbreak of the TB/GBs during our 13 years in office look like a picnic.

Events, dear boys, events

Until a few weeks ago the idea of a comeback for Rudd, the former prime minister deposed by Gillard three years ago, seemed remote. Yet with poor polls suggesting a wipeout in the election just months away, the speculation is at fever pitch as I arrive at Parliament House.

In the course of the morning I meet Foreign Minister Bob Carr, Defence Minister Stephen Smith, Climate Minister Greg Combet and Education and Employment Minister Bill Shorten. Within 24 hours two of these ministers will have announced not only that they’re quitting government but that they’re leaving parliament, too.

Rudd’s supporters make their move that afternoon as word spreads that a petition is being circulated among Labor MPs demanding a leadership vote, or “spill”, as I soon discover it’s called. Making a fateful decision, Gillard responds by announcing a vote that very afternoon, on condition that whoever loses gives up politics altogether.

With half an hour to go, Shorten appears before the cameras to announce that he’s switching his support from Gillard to Rudd. At the subsequent caucus meeting Rudd defeats Gillard by 57 votes to 45.

Labor’s difficulties seem more electoral than economic, and are more to do with personnel than policy: the Australian economy is growing for the 22nd consecutive year, and despite a legislative record that includes major educational reform and the introduction of a landmark disability insurance scheme.

Sheila, take a bow

Gillard’s concession speech was a model of graciousness. After congratulating her rival on his victory she spoke of the “honour” of serving as the country’s first female PM. In part because of her “misogyny speech” that became a huge YouTube hit even in the UK, there was much discussion of how being a woman had affected the way she was treated in the media. Here, too, Gillard had the last – and best – word when she said this about her gender: “It doesn’t explain everything, it doesn’t explain nothing, it explains some things . . . What I am absolutely confident of is it will be easier for the next woman and the woman after that and the woman after that. And I’m proud of that.”

Oz reorientation

One woman who doesn’t seem too bothered by Labor’s leadership change is Julie Bishop, the Liberal opposition’s foreign affairs spokesperson. The next day when I meet her it’s very clear that this suburban Perth MP is still preparing for government. She is well briefed on the issues, and our conversation reinforces how deep and enduring are the ties between the UK and Australia. Yet it is also clear that Australians are already embracing the opportunities of what their government’s recent white paper called “the Asian Century”. Perhaps that explains why in none of my meetings did anyone suggest the UK leaving the EU would be a good thing for Australia. Indeed, in discussion after discussion, the possibility was greeted with a mixture of incredulity and anxiety.

Rugger relief

With 30,000 travelling Lions fans in the country it should be a busy time for Britain’s man in Canberra, High Commissioner Paul Madden, but he tells me with relief and pride that, so far, there has not been a single arrest.

Alas for me, the only meeting that didn’t happen was the one scheduled with a backbench Labor MP at 3.30pm on Thursday afternoon. At least he had a good excuse. That day, the now erstwhile backbencher (Kevin Rudd) instead met Governor General Quentin Bryce to be sworn in as the 28th prime minister of Australia.

As I left Australia the polls were already tightening. Yet Rudd still faces a huge task to defeat the Liberal opposition leader, Tony Abbott. Then again, as I learned from my time in Canberra, a day – never mind a week or a few months – is a very long time indeed in Australian politics.

Douglas Alexander is the shadow foreign secretary

Sydney Opera House. Photograph: Getty Images

Douglas Alexander is the shadow foreign secretary and Labour MP for Paisley and Renfrewshire South.

This article first appeared in the 08 July 2013 issue of the New Statesman, The world takes sides

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How Labour risks becoming a party without a country

Without establishing the role of Labour in modern Britain, the party is unlikely ever to govern again.

“In my time of dying, want nobody to mourn

All I want for you to do is take my body home”

- Blind Willie Johnson

The Conservative Party is preparing itself for a bloody civil war. Conservative MPs will tell anyone who wants to know (Labour MPs and journalists included) that there are 100 Conservative MPs sitting on letters calling for a leadership contest. When? Whenever they want to. This impending war has many reasons: ancient feuds, bad blood, personal spite and enmity, thwarted ambition, and of course, the European Union.

Fundamentally, at the heart of the Tory war over the European Union is the vexed question of ‘What is Britain’s place in the World?’ That this question remains unanswered a quarter of a century after it first decimated the Conservative Party is not a sign that the Party is incapable of answering the question, but that it has no settled view on what the correct answer should be.

The war persists because the truth is that there is no compromise solution. The two competing answers are binary opposites: internationalist or insular nationalist, co-habitation is an impossibility.

The Tories, in any event, are prepared to keep on asking this question, seemingly to the point of destruction. For the most part, Labour has answered this question: Britain will succeed as an outward looking, internationalist state. The equally important question facing the Labour Party is ‘What is the place of the Labour Party in modern Britain?’ Without answering this question, Labour is unlikely to govern ever again and in contrast to the Tories, Labour has so far refused to acknowledge that such a question is being asked of it by the people it was founded to serve. At its heart, this is a question about England and the rapidly changing nature of the United Kingdom.

In the wake of the 2016 elections, the approach that Labour needs to take with regard to the ‘English question’ is more important than ever before. With Scotland out of reach for at least a generation (assuming it remains within the United Kingdom) and with Labour’s share of the vote falling back in Wales in the face of strong challenges from Plaid Cymru and UKIP, Labour will need to rely upon winning vast swathes of England if we are to form a government in 2020.

In a new book published this week, Labour’s Identity Crisis, Tristram Hunt has brought together Labour MPs, activists and parliamentary candidates from the 2015 general election to explore the challenges facing Labour in England and how the party should address these, not purely as an electoral device, but as a matter of principle.

My contribution to the book was inspired by Led Zeppelin’s Physical Graffiti. The track list reads like the score for a musical tragedy based upon the Labour Party from 2010 onwards: In My Time of Dying, Trampled Underfoot, Sick Again, Ten Years Gone. 

Continued Labour introspection is increasingly tiresome for the political commentariat – even boring – and Labour’s Identity Crisis is a genuinely exciting attempt to swinge through this inertia. As well as exploring our most recent failure, the book attempts to chart the course towards the next Labour victory: political cartography at its most urgent.

This collection of essays represents an overdue effort to answer the question that the Party has sought to sidestep for too long.  In the run up to 2020, as the United Kingdom continues to atomise, the Labour Party must have an ambitious, compelling vision for England, or else risks becoming a party without a country.

Jamie Reed is Labour MP for Copeland.