Is a red–blue coalition all that absurd?
Or could it be necessary one day?
In mid-2017, I collaborated with the team at Stuff.co.nz on a pre-election online survey. (The survey sample was self-selected, not representative, and had a conservative bias.) We asked, ‘What would you think of a National–Labour coalition government?’ And the three options, with response rates, were:
A. Utterly absurd (61%); B. It could work (27%); C. Good idea, let’s give it a try (12%).
When broken down by party preference, majorities said ‘utterly absurd’ across the political spectrum, but more among Labour and Green supporters (68%) at that time.
Now, there’s been concern about a possible ‘hung’ parliament after this coming election, by which people mean a 60-60 balance between a Labour-led and a National-led coalition, based on some pre-electoral assumptions.
But there’s no iron law here: a hung parliament is only a problem if parliamentarians make it so. No matter how absurd it may sound, a National–Labour coalition would be one solution, and not the only one.
In wartime there’ve been cross-party arrangements. But, for a really unusual situation, let’s take the 1928 hung parliament:
Seats won by parties were: United 27; Reform 27; Labour 19; Country 1; Independents 6. (Or Reform 28, if you include one of those independents.)
Reform had won more votes at the election than any party, but no party had a parliamentary majority. Both Labour and United had campaigned to get Reform out of office. None of the three parties wanted to work with the others, however, so Labour’s Harry Holland swallowed the proverbial dead rat.
Having campaigned to end the Reform government of Gordon Coates, Labour chose, when the new parliament assembled, to vote no confidence in the incumbent government – and hence to put United into office. So there was a change of government from Reform to United. Labour remained in opposition and there was no need for a fresh election.
There was a change of prime minister in May 1930 from the terminally ill Joseph Ward to George Forbes. To deal with the Depression and to foil Labour, the United and Reform parties coalesced ahead of the 1931 election and won it. They later formed the National Party in 1936 to oppose the first Labour government (1935–49).
With global depression and the rise of fascism, things weren’t easy back then either.
History doesn’t repeat itself. But the history shows that the NZ parliament is an adaptable institution. If we’re concerned about the possibility of a hung parliament, it helps to have an open mind.
After all, Germany (which also uses MMP) has had grand coalitions before: Christian Democrat/Social Democrat. Angela Merkel did it three times during her 16 years as Chancellor.
The lesson for the minor parties is: if you dislike being in opposition, then don’t be intransigent or extreme because the big parties might have to do a deal over your heads.
What could unfold, then, if we get a 60-60 tie between the two apparent pre-electoral coalitions in the coming election?
To deal with this, there are conventions (which aren’t written laws) to guide the political actors. What are those conventions?
The Governor General will appoint as prime minister the elected member who can assure us all that they lead a party or a coalition of parties that commands the confidence of the House.
How do we get to that point, though, if it wasn’t clear from election results? As we saw after the 2017 election, the parties negotiate arrangements involving office-sharing and policies.
In the meantime, we’re not without a government. The ministers who were in office prior to the election continue in a caretaker capacity. By convention, this limits what they can do. But having a caretaker government is no problem for a few weeks.
In 2017, it was clear on election night that a majority, led by either National or Labour, could form a government. It came down to which side would seal the deal with New Zealand First. On that occasion, National missed out.
Let’s suppose, though, that no one commands a majority, even after negotiations. We end up with two sides with 60 seats each, no party has made concessions to the other coalition, and there’s a deadlock.
Above all, don’t panic. The new parliament, by law, must assemble anyway. Once it does, there’ll be a motion of no confidence in the incumbent caretaker government. According to parliament’s standing orders, if a vote is a tie, then the motion’s lost. So the incumbent Labour government might survive that initial no-confidence motion, if neither the Greens nor TPM pull the plug on them. But the government would then face the problem of finding majorities for its own motions.
If it couldn’t get approval for its Budget or other bills, the government would have to resign sooner or later, probably sooner – unless one of the parties that’s been opposing them so far offers to vote in its favour, or even simply to abstain, on confidence and supply motions.
At this stage, it’s hard to imagine either National or ACT rescuing a Labour-led government in that way, but it could be done. It’d be high-grade brinksmanship, but they could say they did it for the sake of stability, and for a few policy concessions perhaps.
If that didn’t work and the caretaker government were forced to resign, however, there doesn’t have to be a fresh election. The opposition may be able to negotiate an alternative majority and form a new government – possibly a minority government with supporting arrangements to guarantee confidence. For all we know right now, National could cobble together a majority, if one of the three left-wing parties could be cajoled. And, of course, NZ First could be in the mix again. One party agreeing to abstain on confidence votes could be enough to tip the balance.
Governors General should never be put in a position where it could even look like they made a political decision. They’d expect the parties to explore all coalition and support options, and to publicly state their positions, before dissolving the parliament and signing the writ for another election. So a 60-60 hung parliament could force a return to the polls, but only as a last resort, and only if one or more parties were truly intransigent or simply nuts.
If there were another election, it would be the fault of certain political parties, and the people would let out a collective groan of frustration and annoyance. And that explains why this situation isn’t likely to arise. No political party wants to take the blame for forcing the country back to the polls prematurely, given that there are always avenues open to avoid that. It’s likely that voters would shun any blameworthy party.
For instance, in 1928 Labour wouldn’t have wanted the blame for forcing a return to the polls, hence they swallowed that dead rat and put United into office. That was probably the right decision as they increased their seats from 19 to 24 in the 1931 election, and then stormed into office in 1935. They were building a reputation as a responsible party.
A stable governing arrangement is in everyone’s interests, including the nation’s economic interests. And parties will make compromises, with their eyes on the prize of ministerial offices, if not now then in the future.
Such political incentives and conventional obligations keep our system of government together. This may look flimsy, but it’s the outcome of centuries of experience. It’s not entirely ‘because of MMP’, although MMP has made such situations more likely. And Kiwis can’t be bothered to write a constitution to tidy things up.
So, if we got an apparent 60–60 hung parliament, we should set aside our pre-electoral assumptions about ‘who will work with whom’. Parties that want a reputation as responsible actors – and a share of the action – will normally ‘come to the party’ to ensure we get stable government. Sometimes in the past that’s required ideological contortions, policy compromises and marriages of convenience, and sometimes a bit of grief at the next election when a party gets punished for the support it gave to a government. But the New Zealand parliament has proven to be a robust institution for forming governments and, only on rare occasions, terminating them early.