Peter Dutton’s opponents cast him as a divisive figure. What if they tried the Tim Walz approach instead?

Peter Dutton’s “cunning plan” to “divide” his way into power is gaining traction with last week’s relentless attack on Palestinians fleeing Gaza appearing to be straight out of the demagogue’s playbook.
When the issue is welfare, Dutton instinctively pivots to immigration. When it’s refugees, he homes in on national security. If the issue is jobs, he makes sure Australians see new arrivals as competitors not compatriots. He is literally on a race to the bottom.
The treasurer, Jim Chalmers, has described him as being “the most divisive leader of a political party”, while the independent MP Zali Steggall accused the Coalition of whipping up fear and told Dutton to “stop being racist”, amid fierce debate in parliament over Palestinian visas.
But Dutton powers on, no doubt reinforced by today’s Guardian Essential report findings that see many Australians, though not a majority, responding positively to his blunt call to pause refugees from Gaza.
With an election looming, Dutton’s preparedness to go low creates real challenges for his political opponents, who risk being dragged into identity battles which, by definition, pit them against a numerical majority.
That’s where the US vice-presidential candidate “coach” Tim Walz’s genius reframe of Trump’s fascistic menace as garden variety “weirdness” might provide some inspiration.
Instead of making Dutton a figure of fear, what if his opponents did the opposite and made him a figure of derision? Less an evil genius scheming for power and more like Blackadder’s feckless footman Baldrick whose “cunning plans” always ended in tatters.
It’s been 35 years since the last instalment of Rowan Atkinson’s retelling of British history through the eyes of a jaded middle manager, but his offsider’s “cunning plans” have become part of our modern lexicon.
I’ve spent the weekend researching Baldrick’s parade of plots and can report their inevitable failure stems from three core flaws: they are based on false premises; they are overly simplistic; and they lack the element of surprise.
Dutton’s “cunning plan” exhibits similar shortcomings. Let’s start with the flawed assumption: just as Baldrick wrongly believed everyone shares his love of turnips, so Dutton wrongly assumes his all-in support for Israeli military action in Palestine is a mainstream position.
As a deeper look at this week’s Guardian Essential Report shows, the vast majority of Australians look at the unfolding tragedy and are either satisfied with our government’s response or want it to take a harder line on Israel.
In embracing this delusion, Dutton isn’t helped by his loyal courtiers who circle in a Pavlovian pack to howl at the sky after dark.
Which brings us to the second pitfall of any “cunning plan”; its tendency to ignore the complexity of the world. Like Baldrick’s dictionary which contains the single entry “sausage”, Dutton’s response to complex socio-economic issues boils down to its own single word “immigration”.
A separate set of questions (detailed below) suggest the interplay with immigration and the economy, housing, the environment and jobs is a real and complex one that demands trade-offs and sober reflection, not the blunt instrument of fear.
Third, even the most “cunning of plans” requires an element of surprise far beyond the capacity of a chancer like Dutton. On the Gaza refugee panic, younger voters, in particular, see him coming a mile off.
While best practice in fighting division and disinformation is to shine a light on these tactics in advance of their implementation, Dutton is effectively pre-bunking himself with a lack of subtlety that would do Baldrick proud.
To be clear, there’s nothing funny about someone turning Australians against each other, but following coach Walz and calling out Dutton’s cynical strategy and exposing it to ridicule might just rob it of its potency.
In a rich, harmonious, multicultural nation, constantly salivating about outsiders is not a mainstream activity, it’s weird. And be honest, Dutton and his Greek chorus of buffoons, blowhards and pearl-clutchers are a seriously strange crew.
The truth is that the average Australian is not a cloying nativist; we all enjoy diverse back stories and we just want government to address our problems rather than exploit them.
This is particularly the case for a complex issue such as immigration, where macro-economic policy collides with the lives of people in their communities at multiple points.
The real test of leadership is to discuss our nation’s future without making it all about race, to decouple the two ideas so that the question moves from who should we fear to what sort of nation do we want to build together?
Frame it responsibly and there is an important conversation to be had. It starts with the big picture: Why are we growing Australia’s population? Who benefits and who pays the costs? What makes a nation truly safe? And what are our obligations to others in distress?
A more granular immigration debate would reflect on how we might tap the energy of diversity from those who do come here. How do we recognise their skills so they can fully contribute to their new home? How do we ensure the experience of international students transcends that of economic transaction?
When race becomes a weapon in the hands of bad faith provocateurs, we can’t have these discussions because we either end up shutting each other down for fear of offence or risk the discussion being hijacked for nefarious ends.
That’s the other lesson coming out of Chicago where the Democrats have endorsed a woman of colour in a bid to finally slay the cult of Trump by deploying the politics of joy as their shield against division.
Because it is only when we celebrate the richness of our diversity that we will be able to take race off the table and have the important discussions we need to bind us all closer together. Now that’s a truly “cunning plan”.