Something extraordinary is happening in one of Sydney’s richest electorates, as fired-up locals join forces with one goal: to boot the former prime minister out of Federal Parliament.

Normal text size Larger text size Very large text size When economist Nick Scott retired, he expected his days to take on a peaceful rhythm. He would read. Go fishing. Spend time with his grandchildren. He did not envisage staging political protests while wearing an inflatable dinosaur suit but, well, life is full of surprises. "It's been liberating," he says of joining a grassroots movement to remove former prime minister Tony Abbott from Federal Parliament. "I thought, 'It's time to actually do something rather than just shouting at the television.' " Scott, 64, has lived for 30 years in the northern Sydney electorate of Warringah, held by Abbott for the Liberal Party for a quarter of a century. Though now a backbencher, Abbott, 61, is still the driving force behind the Coalition government's hard-right faction. Whether he retains his seat at the looming federal election could depend on the effectiveness of a campaign against him by a collection of small community groups that, as Scott puts it, "have simply popped up like mushrooms in the night". Some of them have thrown their support behind Zali Steggall, the world-champion skier turned barrister who is running against Abbott as an independent. But the groups are bound less by allegiance to any one candidate than an aversion to the sitting member. In Warringah, they are known unofficially as the ABBA (Any Bastard But Abbott) alliance. This article is one of the most-read Good Weekend features for 2019 "Tony has united us," says Daniel Moller, the affable 26-year-old founder of Think Twice Warringah, a group that puts up posters reminding Abbott's constituents of things he has said. Comments such as "climate change itself is probably doing good…" (2017). And "What the housewives need to understand as they do the ironing…" (2010). Last October, when Moller and his partner, Justin Gibbons, nailed their first posters to power poles around the electorate, they did so under cover of darkness. The anti-Abbott movement was like an underground resistance back then. "We had no idea there was anything else going on behind the scenes," Moller says. "But there was. A lot was going on." In November, Moller attended the inaugural meeting of COAAG – the Coalition of Anti-Abbott Groups. "There were about 30 people in the room," he says. "We were from different walks of life, different age groups and different political backgrounds but we were united behind this one goal: to get rid of the man." Independent candidates are expected to poll well in a number of electorates at this year's federal election, benefiting from disillusionment with the party system and politics in general. But the contest in Warringah is different for a couple of reasons. First, the uprising isn't fuelled by dissatisfaction with the Liberal Party as much as exasperation with Abbott himself. Second, the sour and sceptical mood gripping other parts of Australia is not in evidence here. On the contrary, those committed to unseating Abbott have a bright, purposeful demeanour, like shipwreck survivors who have realised it may be possible to build a raft and get off the island. "It's going to be tough but it's completely do-able," says Nathan Thomas, convenor of a group called People of Warringah. The Left are certainly putting in a massive effort. Tony Abbott Offers of assistance have arrived from across the nation. "One message from Melbourne was 'We'll come up in busloads to help you out on election day'," says Coleen MacKinnon, a corporate diversity consultant who lives in Warringah and works in her free time for the anti-Abbott cause. Mark Kelly owns and runs Global Surf Industries, one of the world's largest surfboard distribution companies, but for the moment the Warringah-based businessman is devoting himself to selling T-shirts, shopping bags, stubby holders, reusable coffee cups and lapel buttons emblazoned with the words "Vote Tony Out". Demand for the products is Australia-wide, Kelly reports.


"There's a lot of anti-Tony Abbott feeling in Victoria, that's for sure. And Western Australia. But yeah, all over the place." Expatriate Australians, too, are placing orders. "I've sent stuff to London, Tokyo, Singapore, Hong Kong, Israel." It would be easy to take this kind of thing personally, but Abbott seems in a jaunty mood when I join him on a drive through the electorate one Saturday afternoon. He is at the wheel of his Mercedes, a gold 1994 model with almost 250,000 kilometres on the clock and a rack for his surfboard on the roof. I am in the front passenger seat. Between us, the crucifix on a set of rosary beads dangles from the rear-vision mirror. "The Left are certainly putting in a massive effort," says Abbott, who entered parliament after winning a by-election the year his car rolled off the assembly line, and has prevailed at eight federal elections since. At the last one, in 2016, he comfortably survived a nine per cent swing against him in the primary vote. He was left with 52 per cent, and secured 62 per cent of the total once preferences were distributed. But the ground in Warringah may have shifted. Late last month, a ReachTel poll of 841 residents commissioned by the progressive lobby group GetUp! gave Abbott just 38 per cent of the primary vote, and Zali Steggall 37 per cent, a result that would see the independent win on preferences. The ABC's election analyst, Antony Green, urges caution: telephone surveys aren't necessarily reliable indicators of what people will do when they're in the polling booth. A lot can happen between now and election day. And Abbott is a wily campaigner, with the considerable resources of the Liberal Party behind him. As he steers the Merc through leafy suburbia, skirting the boundaries of one of Australia's original retail mega-centres, Warringah Mall, he tells me he isn't unduly worried. "I've been pretty encouraged, to be honest," he says. "Out on the streets, the reaction I'm getting is the reaction I've always got, which is a reasonable welcome from just about everyone." I mention that the anti-Abbott groups include disaffected Liberal voters and he says firmly: "They're not disaffected Liberals. They're nearly all people who have never voted Liberal in their lives." Protesting in clear view of traffic crossing the Spit Bridge, in the heart of Warringah. Credit:James Brickwood It isn't only Nick Scott disporting himself in public places in a blow-up Tyrannosaurus rex outfit. His son Daniel, a geneticist, has a matching suit. Scott the elder says the point they are making is that Abbott's views aren't just arch-conservative but anachronistic. "Outdated ideas headed for extinction," says one of the placards waved by their little band of family and friends, known as Warringah19. "Danger: Fossils in Parliament," says another placard. Scott tells me the aim of their early-morning roadside demonstrations is to entertain motorists crawling past in peak-hour traffic ("we've incorporated a few dance steps") and stimulate conversation in the electorate. "We're just asking people to think about whether their local member truly represents their values in parliament." It’s time to actually do something rather than just shouting at the television. Nick Scott Their endeavours are not appreciated by all. "You should be ashamed of yourselves!" someone yelled the other day. "Centrelink opens at nine!" jeered someone else. But overall the reception has been more enthusiastic than Scott dared hope. "A cacophony of people hooting to give their endorsement," he says. "Waving. Leaning out of windows and sort of shouting encouragement." By the time he and his companions load the placards back into the station-wagon at about 8.30am, they are on quite a high. "We feel we've done something good and made a lot of people smile."


Unmasked dinosaurs Nick and Daniel Scott. Credit:James Brickwood Warringah is an affluent electorate. Stretching north from the harbourside suburbs of Neutral Bay and Mosman to the glorious ocean beaches of Manly, Queenscliff and Curl Curl, it encompasses some of the most valuable real estate in Sydney. The median house price in the final quarter of 2018 was more than $2 million. The seat has always been held by the Liberal Party or its predecessors, but fiscal conservatism – the belief in small government and low taxes – can co-exist with progressive social attitudes. In the 2017 national postal survey on the legalisation of same-sex marriage, Warringah had one of the highest "yes" votes in the country: 75 per cent of respondents were in favour, compared with 61.6 per cent across Australia. Abbott was a leader of the "no" campaign, and when it came time for the House of Representatives to pass the marriage equality bill, he walked out of the chamber. "That was the last straw for a lot of people," says surf entrepreneur Mark Kelly, who early last year invited a few friends to join a private Facebook group called Let's Not Re-elect Tony Abbott. In what seemed the blink of an eye, the group had 1500 members. Kelly was no political expert but he knew a groundswell when he saw one. He had some T-shirts printed, and opened a Vote Tony Out Instagram account, which has attracted close to 17,000 followers. The first photo he posted was of former world surfing champion Layne Beachley, whose message to Abbott was: "It's time to go Tony." He's polarising. Some people absolutely love him. On Sunday mornings, anti-Abbottites put on sun hats and gather at two spots in the electorate where weekend crowds are guaranteed: Manly Beach and Balmoral Reserve. They then set off on "walks for democracy", distributing Vote Tony Out stickers as they go. On one of these strolls, I meet lawyer Grace Irvin, who says she stopped voting Liberal in federal elections when she moved to Warringah 16 years ago. "His views just don't align with mine," she says of Abbott, remembering her dismay at his "Stop the Boats" sloganeering during his four years as federal opposition leader and subsequent two years as prime minister, from 2013 to 2015. She cannot reconcile his attitude to refugees, including those languishing in Australia's offshore processing centres on Nauru and Manus Island, with his professed Christianity. But it was Abbott's abstention from the same-sex marriage vote that jolted Irvin into action. She doesn't expect her Out With Abbott social media campaign to have a significant impact on the election result, but at least she knows she is doing her bit. "It might change five votes," she says. "I'd be happy with that." Nathan Thomas, of People of Warringah, warns against underestimating Abbott's popularity: "He's polarising. Some people absolutely love him." Still, it seems to Thomas, a senior executive of a publicly listed finance company, that seismic change is underway. He has an 80-year-old friend, a lifelong Liberal voter, who for years has staunchly defended Abbott. "My friend is now berating me about how we've got to get rid of him," Thomas says. "And I'm like, 'Wow!' " He laughs in wonderment. "There's something in the air at the moment. I feel like it's game on, I really do." In the car with Abbott, it occurs to me that the hours he spends surfing and cycling pay dividends. He and the Mercedes may both have been around the block a few times but Abbott is still in pretty good shape. Dressed from head to toe in R.M. Williams, the conservative politician's smart-casual label of choice, he is heading for Forestville shopping centre, where he is scheduled to spend some time mingling with the citizenry. It seems a good moment to raise one of the complaints I have heard about him: that he shows little interest in listening to his constituents' concerns. People requesting meetings with him can take up to 12 months to land an appointment, I have been told.


Not true, he says. "Look, anyone who wants to see me can get an appointment. They may not get repeated appointments once it's clear what they're on about and I've said my piece. There was a group that wanted to talk about conditions on Nauru and Manus, for instance. That's probably who you're talking about." Er, no. My information comes from Voices of Warringah, a community network that has hosted a series of small meetings in people's homes – "kitchen-table conversations" – with the aim of giving those living in the electorate the opportunity to identify the issues that matter to them, and to air their grievances. I understand the comments about Abbott's inaccessibility were made by ordinary citizens. "I'd like to have their names," he says. "I think you can be very confident that the people in question were activists posing as ordinary citizens." In any case, Abbott is confident he knows what is important to the good folk of Warringah. Getting from A to B, that's what. "At the moment, our roads are at gridlock," he says, as we cruise towards Forestville. "It's absolutely nightmarish." Warringah does have a serious traffic problem, particularly on weekdays, in peak hours, but some are puzzled that the central pillar of Abbott's campaign for re-election is his support for the construction of congestion-relieving infrastructure. "In terms of making a difference to the ordinary lives of people in this area, the northern beaches tunnel is the big thing by a massive margin," he assures me. "On the Richter scale of local significance, the tunnel is a 10. Nothing else is much more than a two or a three." But aren't roads and tunnels the responsibility of state, rather than federal, governments? "Well, you don't want the federal member sabotaging the thing," he says. "Which would certainly happen if there were an independent in this seat." On a Think Twice Warringah poster, Abbott's quote "I find the burqa confronting…" (2013) is juxtaposed with a shot of him in his trademark red budgie smugglers. Last month, both he and Zali Steggall hit the water for the annual Cole Classic ocean swim at Manly. Afterwards, Abbott made a statement to camera. Chest hair glistening, participation medal around his neck, he stood in front of a portaloo and spoke earnestly of the need for better toilet arrangements at the beach. "This is one of the things I'll be fighting for in the build-up to this election," he said in a video clip posted on Twitter, where he has 673,000 followers. Three days later, when Warringah residents polled by ReachTel were asked which issue was paramount to them in deciding who would get their vote, almost a third nominated climate change and the environment. The next biggest group – 23 per cent – nominated economic management. Fewer than one in 10 people nominated the tunnel. No one mentioned the Manly Beach toilets. Climate change was also the biggest concern of participants in the Voices of Warringah discussions. "There are local people who are very energised by it," concedes Abbott, as we swing into an underground parking station. His own position is that since Australia's carbon emissions account for only 1.3 per cent of the global total, it is really neither here nor there whether we reduce them. That is also the position of the Australian government's chief scientist, Alan Finkel, he tells me. When asked at a Senate estimates committee hearing what impact would be made on the changing climate if our entire national contribution to global emissions was eliminated, "the chief scientist said, 'Virtually nothing.' The chief scientist himself – who is probably more concerned about this than I am – accepts that what we do in this country is little better than a gesture." On that triumphant note, Abbott gets out of the car and strides towards the stairs, eager to do some meeting-and-greeting. In fact, Finkel immediately qualified his remark to the committee, saying Australia had a responsibility to continue working towards reducing its emissions. In a clarifying statement sent to newspapers, he made the point that our emissions per person are among the highest in the world. "Sitting on our hands while expecting the rest of the world to do their part is simply not acceptable," Finkel wrote. Putting up posters can be quite scary. "We were terrified when we started," says Justin Gibbons of Think Twice Warringah, recalling late-night dashes around the electorate with Daniel Moller, a ladder sticking out the back of their car. Was what they were doing even legal? They hoped so. The pair gradually grew more confident and started postering in daylight, but braced themselves for a confrontation the first time someone approached them. "He was an older bloke," says Moller. "Probably in his 70s. And he said, 'You're doing God's work.' "


The response hasn't always been so positive. They once blitzed the electorate with 300 posters only to find that 80 per cent of them had been torn down by noon the next day. The posters are harder to dislodge now that they're using homemade flour-and-water glue instead of tape or a hammer and nails. "Cost-effective and works well," says Moller, who estimates that besides the hundreds of hours they have put into the campaign, he and Gibbons have spent about $1500. They decided at the outset to accept no financial donations, but they're thankful to the Warringah owner of a printing business who saw their handiwork and offered to print the posters free of charge. The Hunter Valley winemaker who expressed solidarity by sending them a couple of cases of excellent chardonnay earned their gratitude, too. Forty-two volunteers have helped in the field, and judging by the houses at which Moller and Gibbons drop off bundles of posters, some have extremely lucrative day jobs. "Multi-multimillionaires, with estates," says Gibbons. One afternoon, I join Mark Kelly as he delivers Vote Tony Out merchandise in Mosman, the wealthiest part of the electorate. Kelly has so far sold some 4000 T-shirts, about 2500 of them to Warringah residents. He says he enjoys making contact with his customers: "You meet lots of wonderful people. Many of them have never been political before. They're like me, they've just sort of had enough." Still, some are nervous about the reaction they'll get when pro-Abbott acquaintances learn they have thrown in their lot with the anti-Abbott forces. At one address on our route, an elderly woman comes to the front gate and accepts a folded Vote Tony Out shopping bag as if it were a parcel of Colombian cocaine. "I have to be very careful," she says, glancing up and down the road. "Most of my neighbours are very pro." The best thing I can do for my kids and my grandkids is get rid of Abbott … It’s like taking the key piece out in a chess game. Kelly tells me that during a recent Mosman drop-off, a woman said she'd have to work up the courage to wear her new T-shirt, given the kind of people who lived around her. She was astonished when he said he had delivered T-shirts to 11 other houses in her street. Kelly has decided what's needed to rally the troops is an anti-Abbott anthem, so he is funding the production of a music video starring singer Josh Fergus, due for YouTube release this month. Kelly helped write the lyrics, which include: "Come on Warringah, Show him the finger." And: "Please don't waste your vote, Turn back Tony's boat." When you ask Abbott's critics what he has done to annoy them, they tell you they hardly know where to begin. Reintroducing knighthoods and giving one to Prince Philip. Referring to this country as Team Australia. Breaking election promises. Eating a raw onion, skin and all, during a Tasmanian farm visit. Charging taxpayers $9400 for travel expenses accrued while promoting his book Battlelines, and not repaying the money until the breach was exposed by the media. Giving the British free Brexit advice ("What's wrong with no deal?"), which prompted a former trade negotiator with the Abbott government to tweet: "You are embarrassing. Stop." The budgie smugglers. Tony Abbott faces his toughest fight yet to be re-elected as MP for Warringah. Credit:Jessica Hromas

Advertisement