The Pauline Hanson phenomenon erupted on to the political landscape 12 years ago when there was a feeling around that the politicians were not listening to the people, and that the major parties formed elitist blocs that colluded on key issues.
That perception was not without an underlying truth. However, with some justification the main parties were intent on keeping a lid on the volatile issues of race and immigration for the sake of social cohesion. Was this a conspiracy of the political elites against the people?
One Nation and others aroused by a populist indignation certainly believed it was, and for a time there was a political rebellion that soon ran its course.
But there is another, more insidious conspiracy, without the saving grace of social cohesion, and that is privatisation, and it is about to claim the political scalp of the NSW Labor Premier, Morris Iemma.
No government has yet dared to put an issue of the privatisation of a public asset before the people for the simple reason that the public is wary about both the process and its likely effects.
If the public had had a choice over the Commonwealth Bank and Qantas sales would it have acquiesced?
The sale of Telstra was a messy business, and it got up because the then government was prepared to pay the price demanded by an independent senator. Were the people consulted directly?
The public was effectively locked out. A couple of years ago when it was proposed to privatise the Snowy Mountains hydro scheme, pubic ire was of such intensity that the Commonwealth called it off.
Which brings us back to Iemma. His determination to sell off the publicly owned power assets, egged on by his ideologically extreme Treasurer, Michael Costa, is popular neither with the public nor with significant sections of his own party and the union movement.
Iemma wants to be seen as a strong leader who is prepared to put what he regards as the greater good ahead of popular sentiment, but he is having precisely the reverse effect by highlighting the fact that he is caught between contending forces which he is unable to control.
It would be difficult enough for any leader, but for Iemma there are added problems. The most pressing one is the accident-prone nature of the Government he leads, with suggestions of corruption not far from some senior Labor figures and his most able minister and best political strategist, John Della Bosca, stood aside as a result of an undisciplined night out.
Another is the nature of the job of a NSW Labor premier in holding in check the often contending forces of head office, the parliamentary party and the union movement a balancing act that so far seems to have eluded Iemma.
But it remains to be seen whether replacing Iemma will be any sort of answer to the privatisation imbroglio which, it will be recalled, proved too much for Iemma's capable predecessor, Bob Carr.
If Iemma goes, will the same wrangle simply continue with another player in the premier's office or will someone emerge who will be brave and democratic enough to put the issue to the people?
The public, it seems, remains unconvinced about the virtues of private ownership over public ownership, and a convincing argument for privatisation has yet to be made.
Iemma now finds himself in a position remarkably similar to that of the hapless Jim McGirr almost 60 years ago. McGirr, who succeeded the very competent and highly popular Bill McKell in 1947 when McKell was controversially appointed Governor-General, simply never filled the big boots of his predecessor; he never cut it with the public.
To try to divert attention from his troubled governments he announced big projects, but they were either never finished or not even started. Internal conflict was rife and dominated the headlines.
Under McGirr's leadership, the government was publicly and painfully unravelling. It became too much for McGirr and the party, and in 1953 he quit.
The Labor Party, fortunately, elected Joe Cahill as his successor. Cahill was a professional politician par excellence; tough, uncompromising and effective.
Cahill alone of Labor leaders in Australia steered his party and his government through the storms of the great Labor split a feat made possible only by Cahill's superb political skills and his unchallenged authority within the party.
For those who study history to try to understand the present, the Labor Party will be hoping for a modern-day Joe Cahill to emerge from caucus but that might be like Morris Iemma's hopes for continued loyalty from his increasingly anxious troops a forlorn prospect.
Norman Abjorensen teaches politics at the Australian National University.