It is appropriate that, as his government unravels, Malcolm Turnbull is visiting Israel, where existential threats to survival constitute the routine of daily life. His hosts' insouciance in the face of pervasive danger seems to have affected our own Prime Minister, who is avowedly experiencing unprecedented fun and zest for life. I do not lightly dismiss Turnbull's claim. His self-regard is boundless and holding office is its own reward. He may well be having the time of his life.

And there is evidence he has not lost his sense of humour. The date of the byelection for New England, occasioned by the citizenship woes of his former deputy prime minister Barnaby Joyce, is December 2. That is the anniversary of the election of the Whitlam government in 1972. When the hapless William McMahon finally called that election Whitlam grandly noted it was also the anniversary of the Battle of Austerlitz, where Napoleon had routed another "ramshackle" and "reactionary" coalition.

Illustration: Simon Letch

Given Turnbull's business and personal links to the Whitlam dynasty, it is unlikely such a coincidence would have eluded him. Indeed, Turnbull's obvious warmth towards Gough Whitlam, Neville Wran and Paul Keating has long been a source of consternation among Coalition colleagues. To Liberal hardliners, Turnbull has always been somewhat suspect as a careerist devoid of ideology.

Despite his abundant talents and vaulting self-belief, Turnbull's political career seems to be drifting towards final, ignominious failure. His legacy may resemble Billy McMahon's rather than Whitlam's. Turnbull has never been able to seize and retain the political initiative since his languid, directionless double-dissolution election campaign last year. The same polls, which provided the rationale for his elevation to the leadership, are now remorselessly squeezing the life out of his government. The reckoning cannot be far off.