Daniel Mulino (Fraser, Australian Labor Party) Share this | Hansard source

Kimberley Kitching was a friend and colleague of mine over a long period of time. I rise to pay tribute today to Kimberley and to pass on my condolences to her family. I begin by offering my heartfelt condolences to Andrew, Kimberley's soulmate. Theirs was a partnership in every sense of the word, a collaboration the likes of which one rarely sees. I hope that his memories of how much adventure and joy and achievement they were able to squeeze into their time together provide Andrew with some consolation during these difficult days. I also offer my condolences to Kimberley's parents, Leigh and Bill, as well as to her brother, Ben. It was always clear to me how much Kimberley valued family, and how much her family provided her with a bedrock of support during good times and bad. My thoughts are also with Kimberley's staff, who I worked with often over recent years. She loved them, and they loved her. There was a deep and shared passion and purpose in her office. I also acknowledge the loss felt by Bill and Chloe Shorten, who lost a lifelong friend.

Kimberley and I met and became friends while we were both active in the ever-changing and exhilarating right wing of the Victorian Labor Party. It's fair to say that that background remained a constant over the coming years. We worked together as ministerial advisers in the Bracks and Brumby governments, a time when I saw firsthand Kimberley's passion for policy and creativity for outcomes. During this period, she and I shared a passion for rigorous economic policy in the Hawke-Keating mould. This was an approach to economic policy that was central to both of those Victorian governments, and that we worked on and both took great satisfaction in working on together to that end. Finally, we were parliamentary colleagues together during the current term of this parliament. It was during this time that the focus of our discussions turned more to foreign policy, and it was during this term of government that Kimberley achieved so much in that realm.

Kimberley had so many qualities, each of which could fill a speech. She had intellect, loyalty and a vivacious embrace of life, all of which were evident throughout the period I knew her. I want to focus today on her courage, her creativity and her loyalty.

Winston Churchill once said, 'Without courage, all other virtues lose their meaning.' Kimberley's abundance of courage meant that all of her other virtues were that much more impactful. Kimberley clearly had courage and, like Churchill, was willing to suffer criticism in the short term from friend and foe alike if she felt that was necessary to take a stand that would be vindicated in the long term. She saw threats looming for Australia and our allies on the horizon. She was one of the first to stand up for the Uighurs, the Tibetans and the residents of Hong Kong. She recognised the need to draw attention to human rights abuses, and she made a strong, unambiguous case for autocratic regimes to be held to account. Kimberley's life demonstrated how courage can effectively leverage other virtues—in her case, her intelligence, her compassion and her creativity—and how courage could make them more impactful.

Kimberley's most high-profile achievement was her championing, over many years, of Magnitsky legislation. Australia now has a Magnitsky act in large part as a result of Kimberley's efforts. This was a reform that was far from unanimously supported when it was raised some years ago. It took tenacity and inexhaustible reservoirs of energy to maintain the momentum for the passage of this bill over a period spanning years. But it wasn't just determination. She also showed incredible creativity. When a parliamentary committee considered the bill, Kimberley organised for evidence to be provided by, amongst others, Amal Clooney, Geoffrey Rush and Bill Browder. Highlighting the international dimension of support for such legislation undoubtedly strengthened the case for Australia to join with our allies. Marshalling all of this support was no mean feat, and few if any other people in parliament could have achieved this.

I remember catching up many times with Kimberley for a morning coffee and comparing our schedules. I would complain about having had to attend a dinner the night before with a stakeholder; she would then recount having been an online participant in a panel at 2 am or 4 am at Harvard or Oxford, with a raft of internationally recognised academics or public thinkers. It was clear to me that she was right at home in these elite gatherings and that she maintained regular contact with these people that she met. It always left me thinking how inadequate my efforts were.

Her achievements on Magnitsky weren't just about seeing clearly the right path to take; they were also about having the connections, the persuasiveness and the energy to bring unexpected resources to bear in the support of her case at a critical juncture in time. Her other virtues—her intelligence, her tenacity and her creativity—were leveraged by her courage. As many others have noted, her sustained contribution led to her being awarded a Sergei Magnitsky Human Rights Award. I am pleased that a permanent human rights award has now been created in her honour in this country.

In the field of human rights there are too many achievements to recount, but another that bears noting was her personal intervention to save 30 people from the chaos of the fall of Kabul. Once again, it was her intelligence, hard work and creativity leveraged to her courage.

In her inaugural speech, Kimberley posed some fundamental questions for herself, her colleagues and the nation. She said:

It is time to decide what kind of parliament we will be. Will we live down to the cynicism of the community about politicians, or will we show leadership in challenging days? It is time to decide what kind of party Labor will be. Will we be seduced by the glamour of narrow interest-group politics, or will we continue to fight for all Australians? It is time to decide what kind of country we are. Will we shirk the decisions that face us, or will we once again rise to the moment and choose what is hard, what is complex, what is right?

She answered her own questions through her own deeds, and in her short time in this place she painted on the largest of canvasses.

There is so much else that could be said of Kimberley. She was a piercing cross-examiner in estimates, she was a public policy wonk and a voracious reader, she was a committed trade unionist, particularly for some of our most vulnerable workers, and, of course, she was a patriot, so often willing to put the interests of our nation above all else. Above and beyond these qualities were her qualities as a loyal friend. As Andrew noted in his powerful eulogy, 'With Kimberley, it was all in.'

Kimberley always greeted you joyfully with an embrace and a kiss on the cheek as if you hadn't seen her for an age. Kimberley made you feel that every discussion was something profound. Kimberley was a political friend that you knew would be there in thick and thin. Politics can be fickle, but Kimberley could never be accused of that. She left an indelible mark on Australia's public life and on all of those lucky to have been her friend. I will miss her terribly. May she rest in peace.

Ms FLINT (Boothby—Government Whip) (12:06): I would just acknowledge the member's lovely contribution about his dear friend the late Senator Kimberley Kitching. Everyone has spoken beautifully about her and her incredible contribution to our nation, particularly to this parliament. It's probably been hard for everybody to speak about Kimberley, because it is a terrible tragedy that we've lost her at just the age of 52. To lose anyone at that age is a tragedy, and to have to remember a brilliant, vibrant woman taken from her friends, her family, our parliament and the Australian people at just age 52 is truly tragic.

The word 'tragedy' is probably used too freely these day, but Senator Kimberley Kitching's death at just 52, in the prime of her life, in the prime of her political and policymaking skills is just that, a genuine tragedy. It's a tragedy for her devoted husband, Andrew, and our hearts go out to him; her parents, Bill and Leigh; her brother, Ben; her devoted friends, like Bill and Chloe Shorten, Diana Asmar; and so many of those opposite who have spoken so beautifully.

It's a tragedy for her devoted staff, who, as we heard yesterday from the Prime Minister and the Leader of the Opposition, were very hard working. They put something like 12,000 questions on notice to government in this term of parliament alone. I'm sure that's somewhat of a record. But the loss of Kimberley is a tragedy for Labor and, ultimately, for our nation. We have lost such a fine woman and such a fine mind.

The stories about Kimberley's achievements, her incredible generosity, her talent for policymaking, that we've heard since her death have emphasised what a huge loss she is to our nation. We know about her tireless work to see the Magnitsky act passed and the international award recognising her work on the act, her work on human rights, including her rescue of some 30 people from Afghanistan as it fell to the Taliban and whose names her dear friend the member for Maribyrnong recorded in his condolence motion yesterday, and I think we're all grateful to him for doing that.

Her funeral last week was testament to her generosity of spirit and her vibrant spirit, attracting people from across the political divide, and I was in attendance. There were ambassadors, diplomats and people whose lives she had touched and, indeed, saved. I doubt there are many other members of parliament, from around the globe, who are sent a personal message from the Dalai Lama to recognise their passing. Such was the person that Kimberley Kitching was.

I did not know Kimberley really well, but she touched my life as she has touched the lives of so many others. Despite us never having properly met, Kimberley penned a generous opinion piece about me on 17 March last year, in response to my speech to parliament pleading for everyone in politics, but particularly Labor, to ensure an end to sexist, misogynist and dangerous behaviour towards women in politics and public life. And I have to say, I do struggle to read the opinion piece that she wrote—it was not published, but she sent it on to me through the member for Canning—and I struggle because it's so kind, generous and courageous, and it shows her incredible character. But I also struggle because, as we unfortunately now know, she herself was having a hard time, as a woman in politics, for many reasons more than those that she shared in her opinion piece. I think, perhaps, her compassion was unfortunately based in her lived experience, and I can only say I'm sorry that I didn't know. And, because of this, there was nothing I could do.

I do want to share a few of her words, as they are a reminder to us all to do better, to protect and look after each other and to try to make politics a safer place for us all. Because if it isn't then our democracy is weaker and our community loses their easy access to us as their elected representatives, and that makes it so much harder for us to do our jobs. Kimberley wrote: 'My party needs to be much more vigilant in shutting down and repudiating gender-based political violence, particularly when we know ahead of time that it's likely to arise in heated political contests, from the fringes, from idiots, online trolls, from the kinds of supporters you don't really want but are too embarrassed to call out publicly.' But I want to be clear: it's not just Labor's responsibility; it is all of our responsibility to call out this sort of behaviour, to stop this behaviour, so that we can get on with our jobs representing our communities.

I'm proud that our government—my government—and this parliament have strengthened the electoral act to give better protection to MPs and candidates, that we introduced the Online Safety Act that was passed by the parliament to prevent and give greater protection from cyberbullying and trolls. These are the sorts of things that, if we all keep working together, make sure that our democracy stays strong and that people are safe.

Kimberley also wrote the following in her opinion piece from March last year: 'I'm sorry the necessarily robust contest over a marginal seat between our two great parties turned into an occasional debacle where misogyny was weaponised against you, where you felt unsafe and denigrated. I don't know you well, but you seem such a graceful, confident, tough, articulate, passionate person. And I am deeply troubled that it appears gendered political violence has caused you, a formidable politician, to fall out of love with politics and has prompted you to decide to leave. And for that, I am deeply sorry; not just for you but what it says about all of us, and the limits Australian society is allowing to be put on the contribution of Australian women.'

I think Kimberley's incredibly kind words are better directed at her. She was graceful, confident, tough, articulate and passionate but also unbelievably kind and compassionate. She was a Christian. Her Catholic faith guided her. She was vibrant and vivacious, with wonderful wit and humour and an enthusiasm for life. She was a patriot and a warrior, as so many have recorded. She was a patriot and a warrior for Australia, our freedom and the freedom of so many others.

In closing, I remember very clearly the last time I saw Kimberley. It was on the day of my valedictory speech on 16 February this year. She was leaving the Sky studio here in Parliament House with one of her loyal and dedicated staff members, Jordan, having just appeared on Paul Murray Live. As we know, Kimberley was not afraid of the contest of ideas, even in what might be classed by some as enemy territory. She looked absolutely gorgeous. She was in a beautifully fitted white suit and she just looked radiant. She gave me one of her enormous smiles that, as we all know, lit up a room; a kiss on the cheek, as everyone has recorded she would greet you with; and a big hug; and she asked how I was. That is how I will always remember Senator Kimberley Kitching—gorgeous and glowing and, as ever, so kind. Rest in peace, lovely lady.

See this speech in context