Julia Gillard (Lalor, Australian Labor Party, Prime Minister) Share this | Hansard source

I move:

That the House express its deep regret at the death on 23 May 2013, of Hazel Hawke AO, place on record its appreciation of her long and meritorious public service, and tender its profound sympathy to her family in their bereavement.

Today this House meets in sadness at the passing of a wonderful Australian, Hazel Hawke. Hazel died peacefully last Thursday, surrounded by family, as she finally succumbed to the complications of dementia. She was a remarkable Australian. As a kid growing up in Depression-era Perth and through the four decades she spent alongside her then husband, Bob, Hazel was always up to meeting life's challenges, even when the ride was a roller-coaster, and she met those challenges with her intellect, her character, her grit and her determination.

Being married to a driven and complex man was not always easy, but through the sorrows and imperfections of Hazel's family life we loved her all the more, and we deeply admired the independent persona she forged, both at Bob's side and also beyond his shadow. It is no accident, I think, that Hazel entitled her autobiography My Own Life, because Hazel Hawke lived and thrived in her own right. That is why, when Bob Hawke retired from parliament in early 1992, the Labor Caucus moved not only a vote of thanks for his service but also for Hazel's contribution to the party and to our nation.

Hazel was a most beloved prime ministerial spouse. She was a woman of deep compassion, common sense and sharp intelligence. But, like my own parents, like so many of her generation, Hazel was born too early to benefit from the expansion of university places that began in the late 1950s. Indeed, had Hazel been born 20 or 30 years later, she might just as easily have ended up in public life in her own right.

Hazel was distinctly Australian in her manner and her sense of humour. When being told her diagnosis was Alzheimer's, her very down-to-earth reply was, 'Bugger, bugger, bugger.' No self-pity was evident, and Hazel quickly turned her mind to how she could use this change in her life to make a difference for other people. That was just as she had done for so many other issues throughout the decades.

Hazel was a tireless advocate for our youngest and most in need, an embrace that began with her own grandchildren and which spread to every corner of our land. She walked with Indigenous people on the journey of reconciliation before many others did. She was a passionate supporter of the arts, children's television and the protection of our precious natural habitat. And she was no mean gardener herself. Indeed, I think no place was more special to Hazel Hawke than her own garden or the beautiful garden at the Lodge where she spent so many happy times.

But Hazel did not just adopt easy or respectable causes. She also embraced the tough issues that few people wanted to talk about: AIDS awareness, women's reproductive rights and domestic violence. Indeed, Hazel showed incredible courage and candour in describing her own painful choice as a young woman in the 1950s—the decision that made possible Bob's study at Oxford and thus, perhaps, his entire career. It was these experiences that impelled Hazel to become a quiet warrior for women's rights, joining with other like-minded people such as Quentin Bryce and Wendy McCarthy—the great generation of Australian feminists who blazed the trail for women like me.

Hazel was often described as gutsy. We saw it so often in the many painful moments of her own personal and family life, and we saw it in a different way when she stepped up before a crowd of more than 2,000 people in the Sydney Opera House to play a Mozart piano concerto. Classical music fans will know how hard that feat is, especially for an amateur who could only practice in her spare time. But Hazel applied herself with fierce determination, leaving her audience stunned and grateful. This was Hazel Hawke at the very peak of her life in 1990, and this is how she should be remembered—as a vivid presence in Australian public life, as a woman who lifted the spirits of a nation and brought a touch of warmth and humanity to the Hawke years, and as a woman who had more than her fair share of misfortune but who only redoubled her courage and grace in response.

Hazel entered that long autumn of her life knowing she was deeply loved and admired, and I hope she retained some sense of that love to the end, because she was deeply loved, by her children, Susan, Stephen and Rosslyn; by her six grandchildren; by Wendy McCarthy and many other friends; and by Bob as well. To them and to all those Australians who saw the best of themselves in Hazel go our deepest sympathies.

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