Angus Taylor (Hume, Liberal Party, Shadow Treasurer) Share this | Hansard source

It's a great honour to speak about my friend and mentor, Kevin Andrews. I think this condolence motion to him is incredibly important, because he served this country in a way and for so long that so few have been able to—as Father of the House. He's someone for whom I had enormous respect, both in his time here and beyond.

Much has been said already about his background. One of the really important parts of that background is that he grew up as a country boy, born in Sale. His family ran a small trucking business, and many of his values that you can see he lived by came from that background. It was a background that I think breeds some of the greatest Australians—I would say that. It tells you something of his old-world values, in many ways, and where they came from.

He won his seat of Menzies in 1991. It seems like a long time ago, 1991, but he was here a very long time. He won it in a by-election, and he served the people of Menzies with enormous distinction over almost three decades. For that, we should all be enormously grateful.

Of course, as he would have said, the most important part of his life was his family, and many have made that point. He was married to Margie—an extraordinary marriage. She was the head of his Praetorian Guard, and anyone who knows Margie will know exactly what I mean by that. She is a formidable and wonderful, wonderful woman. Their partnership was an extraordinary one because—as I think the Leader of the Opposition pointed out yesterday—the complementarity between the two of them was great. Perhaps, sometimes, similar people attract, and sometimes it's those who are more complementary. Certainly, that was the case between Kevin and Margie.

It was an incredible partnership—their life together. I saw it time and time again when I saw both of them. I saw them most when it came to cycling—and I'll talk about that in a moment—but their partnership is a model to so many of us, because it showed you how two very different people could complement each other and support each other. The support they gave to each other and what they sought to do in their lives were amazing. Even though some might say that their marriage was one steeped in old-world values, I think they're values that are the hallmark of a great partnership, because that's what their marriage clearly was, with their children, Emily, James, Stuart, Catherine and Benjamin.

He was a man of great faith, devoted to God, and I'll come back to that in a moment. But another of his great passions in life was cycling. I learnt over time how passionate he was about cycling, because I spent a lot of time sitting on a bike right next to him. One of the wonderful things about sitting on a bike for each year for eight days over a thousand kilometres, is that you get to talk to people and get to know them in a way that you might otherwise never get to know those people. You've got a lot of time, and, if you talk, some of the pain goes away!

I had a lot of time to talk to Kevin and a lot of time for Kevin when I talked to him as we sat on the bikes together. We were both on Pollie Pedal each year for many, many years, starting in 2013. In Canberra on Wednesday mornings a group of us go out, and Kevin would come along to that as well. The conversations would often meander to all sorts of weird and wonderful places, but Kevin would always come back to the basics of why we were doing what we're doing and the basics of what was important in our lives—the relationships we have and the people and values we stand for. With Kevin, it was so consistent and coherent every single time. Over time he became a truly great role model and mentor for me, not by instructing me on what to do but by demonstrating how to live. That kind of role modelling is the most powerful of all. It's role modelling he would never have fully realised he was giving. Some of the best mentors in life don't even realise they're your mentors. Kevin was one of those for me. He was absolutely one of those.

His passion for cycling combined with his passion for writing. He wrote a number of books, but one of his truly remarkable ones that, I think, has not been given enough attention is his book about cycling and the history of Italy. Now, you might all think, 'Well, that's kind of a weird thing to write a book about,' and initially I thought, 'That's right.' Then I looked at what he had written about. He had written what I think is a really masterful contribution about the history of Italy, how Italy—as a state , as a government, as a country—was formed, the rivalries in that formation and how cycling had a parallel to that. The great rivalries in cycling in Italy were parallel to the great rivalries in politics in the formation of Italy. Of course, anyone who knows something of the history of Italy will know it was a cathartic formation that took centuries. Just as there were great rivalries throughout that formation of Italy, there were great rivalries in the story of the great cyclists of Italy—which we continue to see today, by the way; it continues to be one of the great cycling countries of the world. This was vintage Kevin Andrews: combining his passion for history, his passion for writing and his passion for cycling in a book that I think was a really novel contribution, emblematic of the way Kevin Andrews looked at the world and the way he contributed to the world.

Our time on Pollie Pedal together, over all those years, was really wonderful. The member for Solomon made a nice contribution; I didn't realise he was there when Kevin broke his collarbone in 2017. In 2017, he'd just been defence minister, and we visited many of the defence barracks along the route that year from Albury through to Manly, including Holsworthy barracks—I think that was the last one we visited before we went up to Manly. We were leaving Holsworthy Barracks down Heathcote Road, and Kevin took a tumble But you wouldn't have known; this guy had a capacity to manage pain like few I have ever seen. It was vintage Kevin. His demeanour never changed. It was always calm, it was always gathered and it was always coherent even when he was in extraordinary pain.

He did occasionally inflict pain on Pollie Pedal, I have to say. The Leader of the Opposition yesterday in the House made reference to 'what happens on Pollie Pedal stays on Pollie Pedal'. That is largely true, but Kevin's contributions on karaoke nights at Pollie Pedal, one night each year when the karaoke machine came out, were not always his best contributions, I have to say. He and Tony Abbott would combine each year to give a rendition of 'Suspicious Minds' that is best forgotten, because they couldn't hit the note on any of the notes. But they would do it each year and each time they would hold themselves out as the greatest singers of 'Suspicious Minds' since Elvis himself. That wasn't Kevin's best, but it was something we will always remember. Those of us who have heard it will always cherish it as a wonderful example of the authenticity of Kevin Andrews.

His role modelling for me, personally, extended into many different areas. One was his civility. We've just heard the member for Deakin and the member for Solomon talk about the wonderful civility of Kevin Andrews. Much of that, I think, came from his upbringing, but it also came from his faith. His deep faith was something that I have great respect for. Each of us who are people of faith in this place live that in different ways. The most important way that Kevin lived it was by living those values in the parliament every single day, in every moment. He just wouldn't depart from them. That is difficult because, as the member for Deakin just told us, this place can be faddish. We can be slaves to fashion, to whatever is the latest piece of thinking. That was never Kevin. Kevin would always go back to those bedrock principles and values that he grew up with and that he believed in. That expression of faith is something that I have enormous respect for. I can only hope to be even close to that level of coherence of Kevin each day. But we saw it—all of us—in the party room, we saw it in our informal interactions, and we saw it in the parliament as well.

I've talked about family and his belief in family. He wrote about this, and he spoke about it often. Of course, that relationship with Margie and with his kids was right at the heart of that. But I think the important point here is that he did something which is difficult in this place. Often, here in the parliament of our great nation, it is easy to believe that the answer to all problems is just a better government policy. Government policy is important—don't get me wrong—but Kevin always understood that ultimately human fulfilment and happiness come from the relationships we have with those people close to us. That is the bedrock. That is the most important thing of all. To the extent that policy can have a role in making sure that we enable people to have a great family life, that's important. That is fundamentally important, and I think Kevin's commitment to those values is something we should all revere.

He also had great commitment to our flag. Alongside faith and family, he believed in this nation like few others. He was an incredible servant in his many roles, including his ministerial roles. I saw him being particularly proud of his time as defence minister. I think he thoroughly enjoyed the role he played as defence minister because he saw it as one of those bedrock services and roles that the government can play that are so important to our security and our future as a country.

It has been a true honour for me to be a colleague and a friend of, and certainly to be mentored by, a man as wonderful as Kevin Andrews. Can I wish my very best to Margie, to the family and to the kids—Emily, James, Stuart, Catherine and Benjamin. May Kevin Andrews rest in peace.

See this speech in context