Tony Abbott (Warringah, Liberal Party, Prime Minister) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

I move:

That the House record its deep regret at the death on 21 October 2014 of the Honourable Edward Gough Whitlam AC, QC, former Member for Werriwa and Prime Minister, and place on record its appreciation of his long and highly distinguished service to the nation and tender its profound sympathy to his family in their bereavement.

In every sense, Gough Whitlam was a giant figure in this parliament and in our public life. He was only Prime Minister for three years—three tumultuous years—but those years changed our nation and, in one way or another, set the tone for so much that has followed. Whether you were for him or against him, it was his vision that drove our politics then and which still echoes through our public life four decades on. He was a gifted student. He saw war service in the Royal Australian Air Force. He was a brilliant young barrister before entering parliament in 1952. He became Leader of the Opposition and helped to establish his credentials by courageously reforming aspects of his party organisation.

After 23 years of coalition government, Australians wanted change. It was time, as the famous campaign song proclaimed—probably the only campaign song that anyone can now remember. Whitlam represented more than a new politics; he represented a new way of thinking about government, about our region, about our place in the world and about change itself. Nineteen seventy two was his time, and all subsequent times have been shaped by his time. His government ended conscription, recognised China, introduced Medibank, abolished university fees, decolonised Papua New Guinea, transformed our approach to Indigenous policy and expanded the role of the Commonwealth, particularly in the field of social services. These were highly contentious at the time; some of these measures are still contentious; but, one way or another, our country has never been quite the same. Members of his government displayed the usual human foibles, but, support it or oppose it, there was a largeness of purpose to all his government attempted—even if its reach far exceeded its grasp, as the 1975 election result showed. He may not have been our greatest Prime Minister, but he was certainly one of the greatest personalities that our country has ever produced. And no Prime Minister has been more mythologised.

I dare say that most of us who met him have a Whitlam story. I introduced myself to him one day in 1978 at an event at Sydney university. 'I've heard of you,' he said, 'you're some kind of a Liberal.' 'I'm actually supposed to be DLP,' was my response. 'DLP!' he boomed, 'that's even worse!' At another university event, I asked him about the book Matters for Judgment. 'I'm very pleased,' he said, 'that Sir John Kerr has gone into print, because it has set up a great clamour for the truth, which only I can provide.'

Gough Whitlam was a playful man, even while making what he thought was the essential political or philosophical point. Years later, at an airport lounge, I found myself discussing an issue of ecclesiastical governance with him involving the then Catholic bishop of Wollongong. He sent me a note on the back of a boarding pass, which I might share with the House: 'Some pilgrims in Rome from the 'Gong, found some churches to which to belong. In St Peter's, no less, they at last could confess, Bishop Murray had got it all wrong.'

In person, it was hard to disagree with and impossible to dislike such a man, however much one might question his policies. Of course, throughout his public life he was supported by Margaret—herself a formidable personality and a gracious adornment to our national life. Gough Whitlam is gone but not forgotten. He will never be forgotten. His was a life full of purpose—proof, if proof were needed, that individuals do matter and can make a lasting difference to the country they love.

It is worth recalling an exchange of letters between Gough Whitlam and his distinguished predecessor Sir Robert Menzies. Sir Robert Menzies wrote to the incoming Prime Minister in 1972, and he said:

You have been emphatically called to an office of great power and great responsibility. Nobody knows better than I do what demands will be made upon your mental vigour and physical health. I hope that you will be able to maintain both and send you my personal congratulations.

To which Gough Whitlam graciously replied:

I was profoundly moved by your magnanimous message on my election to this great office. No Australian is more conscious than I how much the lustre, honour and authority of that office owe to the manner in which you held it with such distinction for so long. No Australian understands better than you the private feelings of one now facing the change from the years of leading the Opposition to the burdens and rewards of leading our nation. You would, I think, be surprised to know how much I feel indebted to your example, despite the great differences in our philosophies.

We all have much to learn from the giants of those times.

Bill Shorten (Maribyrnong, Australian Labor Party, Leader of the Opposition) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

Today, our parliament has some very sad news and, I think, regardless of political affiliation, it is very sad news for all Australians. Prime Minister Edward Gough Whitlam has passed away. Today, our parliament and our nation pause to mourn the loss of one of Australia's greatest sons. This morning, I offered my condolences to Gough's son Nick. He was able to tell me that the great man had passed in peace and comfort. He kept that certain grandeur to the very end.

The Hon. Edward Gough Whitlam AC, QC means a lot to the story of our country and the story of modern Australia, our home. Gough's was a truly Australian life and a life lived truly for Australia. In uniform or in parliament, in the prime ministership or around the world, Gough Whitlam was a man for the ages and a giant of his time. No-one who lived through the Whitlam era will ever forget it and perhaps nobody born after it can ever imagine it. Gough's ambition went beyond his desire to serve our nation. He wanted to transform it completely, permanently, and he did.

Today, I submit that like no other Prime Minister before or since, Gough Whitlam redefined our country and, in doing so, he changed the lives of a generation and generations to come. Think of Australia in, say, 1966: Ulysses was banned, Lolita was banned. It was the Australia of the six o'clock swill, with no film industry and only one television drama, Homicide. Political movements to the left of the DLP were under routine surveillance. Many Australians of talent—Clive, Barry, Germaine, Rupert, Sidney, Geoffrey—as a matter of course, left their home, their native country, to try their luck in England. Yet Gough reimagined Australia, our home, as a confident, prosperous, modern and multicultural nation where opportunity belonged to everyone.

The Whitlam government should not be measured in years but in achievements. Whitlam defined patriotism as seeing things that were wrong about Australia and trying to change them. In 1970, he was referring to our unacceptably high infant mortality rate amongst Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people, our immigration policy based on race, our support for the Vietnam War. Whitlam said that a true patriot does not try to justify unfairness or prolong unfairness but to change it, and change it he did. Our country is most certainly different because of him. By any test, our country is better because of him.

Gough Whitlam spent his political life reaching for higher ground. Think of all that he changed, forever and for the better. Health care changed because of him. Education changed because of him. Land rights for Aboriginal Australians because of him. Our place in Asia changed, particularly our relationship with China changed because of him; our troops home from Vietnam. The birthday ballot ended because of him. The death penalty abolished and discrimination banished from our laws because of him. No-fault divorce in the family court because of him. Our suburbs for the first time at the centre of our national debate because of him. Everywhere we look in our remarkable modern country, we see the hand and work of Whitlam. The program lives on.

Gough Whitlam opened the doors to our universities. He lifted up our schools and training centres. He said that every Australian should have a choice in education. But Whitlam said that this must be a choice between systems and courses not between standards, not between a good education and a bad one, an expensive education or a poor one, a socially esteemed education or one that is socially downgraded. He, indeed, believed that the health of any one of us matters to all of us.

With Medibank he brought the peace of mind that is Medicare to every Australian. He was determined to end what he called the 'inequality of luck' for Australians with a disability and his vision is writ large in the National Disability Insurance Scheme now. He understood that the main sufferers in Australian society, the main victims of social deprivation and restricted opportunity have been the oldest Australians on the one hand and the newest Australians on the other. And he sought land rights for Aboriginal Australians, the end of the White Australia policy and the passage of the Racial Discrimination Act.

He tried always to do good. He strove, like the conscientious Fabian he mostly was, to leave behind a better world. His speech writer and confidant, Graham Freudenberg, reminded me this morning, 'There are some who say he did too much too soon but few can say that what he did could have waited longer.' Gough never lacked the courage for a good fight. It was this courage and determination that made him the great reformer of the Labor Party, the greatest in Labor's history.

Gough Whitlam loved the Labor Party and the Labor Party loved Gough Whitlam, and Gough Whitlam changed the Labor Party. He shook Labor up. He made our party relevant to the modern, multicultural fair and reconcile country of his grand vision. There is a story that in 1964 Gough entered the Trades Hall in Melbourne. He had a speech prepared for the Labor Party but he said he could not deliver it because we were in fact to Labor Parties— there with the men, the delegates and the candidates and then there were the women making the tea and preparing the meals out the back. Gough declared then that we did not deserve to be called the Labor Party until we were one Labor Party. Gough declared that until we were one Labor Party we did not deserve to govern. The result was that the women stopped making the tea but they were no longer consigned to the back of the room. And so began the making of modern Labor.

Gough refashioned our party. He drew it out of its narrow, quarrelsome and partisan divisions into an inclusive social democracy and he stirred with his wit and his capability many brilliant citizens into public service. Gough presented to the nation and largely delivered a hearty, refreshing, merciful, forgiving, exhilarating new order. He was an unusual figure to be doing such things. He was large and regal, with an accent both broad and aristocratic and cadence so emphatic it seemed you dared not oppose him. He could appear both pre-and episcopal and usually conservative, while changing society for ever.

Francis James knew him as a schoolboy when his aim was to be the Archbishop of Canterbury. The truanted from Canberra Grammar to watch the young RG Menzies dominating Parliament House. Francis said, 'Gough admired Menzies lucidity but found him insincere.' He was judged by his acquaintances and political contestants in very different ways. The former Victorian trade union defence committee swore blind he was a closet Liberal and more frankly a spy. The Melbourne establishment believed was a class traitor, one who had sullied his boots and his family name by seeking an easier rise in the stupider party. The DLP saw him as their bridge over troubled waters back to the anti-Communist Chifleyism. To his friend Jim Killen he was as an obnoxious a by-product of the upper middle classes as was ever grafted itself leech-like on the egalitarian movement. To Sir John Kerr, he was a dangerous megalomaniac. To Sir Laurence Olivier he was a hero of the age. To Gore Vidal he was the nation's most intelligent man. Above all, Gough was an agent for democracy and an agent for tolerance.

Democracy and tolerance are indeed defining features of our nation and great leaders can make national character and can make national values. These are very important qualities—democracy and tolerance—which depend upon our nation's leaders. Of all leaders, arguably none had more cause to carry and anvil of political hatred, but he did not. In defending democracy and defending tolerance, Whitlam defined his values and his character and indeed our nation's.

There will be more to say about the loss of this great man. I know that so many of you will have personal stories and memories of inspiration to share. In remembering Gough, we remember his wife Margaret, a great Australian in her own right, and remember their life together. It is a great Australian love story. Our thoughts are with his family, a family which has given so much to our nation. Their long line of public service did not begin with Gough and it has not ended with him. I believe that perhaps there will be more tears shed for Gough Whitlam today than for any other leader in Australia's political history. And his beloved men and women of Australia will long remember where they were this day.

'It's time,' Gough once told us, a phrase which captured the imagination of a nation, a rallying cry for change, for a confident, progressive, fair and modern Australia. 'It's time,' he said and, because of Gough, because if his life and legacy, it is always time. It is always time for a more generous, inclusive, progressive and confident Australia. It is always time to help our fellow Australians rise higher than their current circumstances. It is always time for courage in leadership and to create and seize opportunity. It is always time.

On his 80th birthday, Gough Whitlam said, 'With all my reservations, I do admit I seem eternal.' He warned, however, 'Dying will happen some time. As you know, I have a plan for the ages, not just for this life,' and he said of a possible meeting with his maker, 'You can be sure of one thing—I shall treat him as an equal.' The men and women of Australia will mourn Gough Whitlam as a legend and we shall always treasure his legacy. Gough's light shines before him and the memory of his good works will live long in the heart of our nation.

Warren Truss (Wide Bay, National Party, Leader of the Nationals) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

It is a privilege to join the Prime Minister and the leader of the opposition and other members in mourning the passing of Gough Whitlam, AC, QC, 21st Prime Minister of Australia. Today is a day to honour our former Prime Minister, his accomplishments, his impact on shaping the modern Australia, his wit and his larger-than-life personality. Gough Whitlam is being heralded today as a giant of the Labor Party and that is, of course, true, but he has also been a towering figure of Australian politics. His policy legacy endures to this day and will also into the future. His changes helped to shape the lives of every Australian since 1972.

He changed the way in which politics is conducted in this country, and he can certainly lay claim to being the father of modern campaigning in Australia. His 'It's time' campaign has probably never been surpassed, with its dynamism, vibrancy and momentum. His unfailing wit never abandoned him, even at the ripe old age of 98. He is a national treasure whom we have admired since he first entered public life when he was elected to this place in 1952. At 98, I think even he would acknowledge, that is a pretty remarkable innings.

One of the things that marked his two short terms in government was the sheer pace of the sweeping reforms. It was probably a credit to him but also in some senses a curse. His early days of government were simply cyclonic. A government of only two that set about change and seemingly changed everything. He was so eager to get things done that he risked leaving the community behind. But I do not think he cared; he was determined to get things done.

The list of Gough's enduring stamp on our nation is long. I will note just a few. He was unquestionably the father of the modern welfare system. He made welfare a right and took away the shame or embarrassment of receiving a pension or welfare assistance. He abolished military conscription and completed the withdrawal from Vietnam. He extended Commonwealth influence into areas that had traditionally been the influence of the state, such as universal health care, needs-based school funding and fee-free university education. He abolished the death penalty and overhauled legal aid. He recognised the basic unfairness that Indigenous Australians suffered. He introduced the Family Law Court and no-fault divorce.

There are other things that people remember him for as well. He removed the word 'Commonwealth' from the government and changed it to 'Australian government'—which did not last all that much longer after he retired from government. He also abolished the imperial honours, he changed the national anthem and I think he would have changed the Australian flag if he could have got away with it. Many of those changes were highly controversial then but they are pretty well universally accepted now. Indeed, they are taken for granted as part of the Australian way of life, our identity and our sense of fundamental fairness. In many ways the Whitlam era, though brief, brought Australia into the 20th century. It certainly brought politics and social policy up to date with the social dynamic of the time and meshed policy with the modern Australian community.

As the Leader of the Opposition said, Gough and Margaret were in some senses trendsetters—a political team, as the Prime Minister mentioned. It would be remiss not to recognise on this day the profound influence that Margaret Whitlam had on her husband and the nation. It was a very public partnership—the likes of which we had rarely seen. We saw that relationship as part of the transformation that was occurring across the country. They were true equals who clearly shared mutual respect. They were a team—and, indeed, a formidable team.

Over the years I have listened to many from the Labor Party say that they were inspired to become involved in politics because of Gough Whitlam. Often it was mentioned in members' maiden speeches. But it was true also of people on this side. Many on this side were inspired to get involved in politics for the opposite reason: they thought it was necessary to stand up against some of the things that he stood for.

He did not have a lot of support, it has to be said, in the regions. Farmers were protesting outside of Parliament House. I have to confess that I was one of them. We arranged busloads and they came from all over the country to protest about concerns about the policy direction that he was taking. He undoubtedly encouraged me—though he did not wish to do so—to be engaged in the political process. I joined a political party too, but it was not the Labor Party. He did give me my first chance to be involved in political activities when he appointed me to the National Rural Advisory Council. I guess I did not always give him good advice, but nonetheless it introduced me to the political scene in Canberra and helped in many ways to shape my own involvement.

He remained true to himself and his ideals. He had the courage of his convictions and he acted upon them. Many people recognised his service as a Queen's Counsel, a member of parliament, Leader of the Opposition, Prime Minister and Ambassador to UNESCO, but he also was a patriot. There are many measures to patriotism. His conviction in political life is one, but another was his commitment as an airman in World War II. He registered to join the Royal Australian Air Force within hours of news of the Pearl Harbor attack reaching Australia, and he went on to serve from 1942 to 1945. With 13 Squadron he was a navigator on long anti-sub patrols and bombing missions in our northern waters from various bases, including Cooktown and Gove. He did not leave the Air Force until October—well after the end of hostilities and after 13 Squadron had been involved in repatriating many Australians, including prisoners of war.

His connection with Canberra was lifelong. His family moved to Canberra in 1927, when his father was appointed Assistant Crown Solicitor, and young Gough went to school initially at Telopea Park, just down the road from Parliament House. Later he went to Canberra Grammar and then on to university and war service.

Very few Australians have the privilege of serving as Prime Minister. It takes outstanding personal capacities and stamina to do so. He was a towering figure also because he was physically an imposing man, but he had an equally robust personality and intellect, as many of my predecessors can testify. I met him only a few times, but when he entered a room he dominated it. When he engaged in conversation he filled it. He once attended the funeral of one of my predecessors as Member for Wide Bay, Brandon Hanson, in Maryborough. That day he was in a wheelchair, but he was still a towering figure.

Above all, Gough Whitlam was unambiguously committed to Australia. Australia continues to benefit from much of his legacy today. He recognised China. He not only went to China but blazed a trail which much of the rest of the world followed. He carved a unique and extraordinary chapter in Australian history. We respect his courage, his conviction and his contribution. It is appropriate that the nation recognises his successes and mourns his passing. May he rest in peace. Our condolences go to his family, particularly his children, Nicholas, Tony, Stephen and Catherine. I salute a great Australian.

Tanya Plibersek (Sydney, Australian Labor Party, Deputy Leader of the Opposition) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

I would like to join with the previous speakers in paying my respects to the family of Gough and Margaret Whitlam. I start by acknowledging Catherine, Nicholas, Tony and Stephen, their partners and their family for the wonderful support and great love that they have shown their parents for many years, and of course Gough's dear friends, who will miss him so greatly.

I have often thought it was fitting that Gough Whitlam was Australia's 21st Prime Minister, because with Gough Whitlam Australia came of age. An Australia that once thought small was asked to think big. An Australia once closed and inward looking opened to the world. Gough rejected those old ideas of what Australia should be and led us to what Australia could be. The Australia that Gough Whitlam was born into in 1916—almost a century ago—was a very different place. We were at war in support of mother England; Australian women had only relatively recently secured the right to vote; and Indigenous Australians were shamefully excluded from our national life and even from our census. Gough's life, nearly a century long, chartered the evolution of our nation from one of insularity and dependence to one of openness and confidence.

Gough had only three short years in government, but they were, arguably, the most transformative years in Australian political history. Free university education meant that my brothers and I, many people on the Labor side here and, no doubt, many on the other side too were the first in their families able to afford a university education. You could have a university education based on your intellect, your hard work and your desire to go to university rather than based on your parent's income. He brought in universal healthcare, Medibank—now Medicare; rights for women; and support for sole parents, homeless Australians and new Australians—as they were called in those days. He made room for all of us in our nation. Who can forget that image of Gough Whitlam pouring the sand into the hand of Vincent Lingiari—starting a process of giving land rights to Indigenous Australian who had waited far too long and worked so hard to achieve that gain.

Gough's commitment to equality for women was perhaps best embodied in the wonderful relationship that he had with his beloved wife Margaret—a relationship that spanned nearly 70 years of marriage. Gough's reforms for women were landmark. They included the election of the first Labor woman to the House of Representatives, Joan Child, in 1974. His partnership with Margaret was such a driving force in that drive for equality for women. Gough respected her. He listened to her views. He treated her as an equal in every way. When she died, just a few months short of 70 years of marriage, he said: 'We were married for almost 70 years. She was a remarkable person and the love of my life.'

On hearing of Gough's passing today, many people have described Gough as a giant of our nation—and he was. He was, as the Deputy Prime Minister said, a towering figure physically. He also had the ability to deliver soaring rhetoric. But his actions were also very down to earth. He was a very warm person on a one-to-one basis. I remember when my parents first met him. They were almost embarrassed to talk to him, because they admired him so much. He was so incredibly warm and welcoming to them, particularly to my mother. His ability to talk at an international level about issues of enormous complexity and convince an audience on the one hand and speak person to person to any Australian and make them feel respected and included was phenomenal. It was a phenomenal ability.

From helping to sewer Western Sydney to his reforms to health and education, it was that ability to merge the idealistic and the pragmatic that made him such a great leader. He delivered so many reforms that mattered so much to the everyday lives of Australians. He and Margaret worked together in Western Sydney to argue for public libraries and swimming pools. Those things mattered to Gough. They mattered to the people he represented and they mattered to him. They were a great motivator for him—the things that made him work so hard as a local member and as a member of parliament.

As well as that phenomenal drive to help the everyday lives of Australians at that suburban level—in Western Sydney in particular—he also saw himself and he saw Australians as citizens of the world. He turned Australia into that outward looking nation. He ended conscription and he brought our last troops home from Vietnam. He delivered independence for Papua New Guinea. He said at the time:

By an extraordinary twist of history, Australia, herself once a colony, became one of the world's last colonial powers. By this legislation, we not only divest ourselves of the last significant colony in the world, but we divest ourselves of our own colonial heritage. It should never be forgotten that in making our own former colony independent, we as Australians enhance our own independence. Australia was never truly free until Papua New Guinea became truly free.

Most enduringly perhaps, Gough helped us find our place in Asia. He visited China, of course, as opposition leader, leading the world. As Prime Minister, he established diplomatic relations with the PRC, where, to this day, he is still remembered with great affection.

Gough united with Malcolm Fraser to campaign for a republic—part of his long-term push to cement Australia's independence. As Prime Minister, he changed the national anthem from God Save the Queen to Advance Australia Fair and he dispensed with the British honours system. He was a fine ambassador to UNESCO and both he and Margaret were part of our successful bid for the Sydney Olympics. Malcom Fraser said about him:

He wanted Australia to be an independent player on the world stage. He didn't want Australia to be a subject to any other nation.

His whole career expressed that.

Gough's legacy, both domestically and on the world stage, is now so deeply ingrained in our national character that we sometimes take it for granted. We forget, perhaps, how fierce the battles were. All of our prime ministers have served our nation with great loyalty and distinction, but there will always be something special about Gough. He had an ego—that is true—and he was the first to make fun of himself for that. He said in the early 2000s:

I feel I am eternal but not immortal.

As always, as he would say, he was right about that.

His contribution to Australia has changed us fundamentally and permanently—but, do you know, the great man still came to branch members' Christmas parties, he still did Labor Party fundraisers for me and many of my colleagues, and he would turn up without fanfare. One year, we had our Christmas party upstairs at a pub, and he needed assistance up the stairs. I said to him, 'Gough, if you'd told us you were coming, we would have had the party anywhere just to make it a little bit easier for you to attend.' He waved away that consideration and said, 'Comrade, I'm just a humble branch member now.'

He also had Margaret to keep him in check. I remember one of these fundraisers where he was speaking, and he got onto a favourite topic: the single gauge railway. It ended with Margaret banging her stick on the ground and saying, 'Enough now, Gough. They've heard enough. Sit down!' They loved each other very deeply, and each of them made an enormous commitment to the service of all Australians. They will be deeply missed, as I said, by their friends, by their family and by our own colleague John Faulkner, who had a very special friendship with Gough Whitlam.

The outpouring of grief that we are witnessing today is mourning not just for a man but for everything that he represented. He had a clear vision of the country that he knew Australia could be, and he had the ability to project that vision to the world. More than anything else, Gough's memory should inspire us to have courage in politics—a reminder that often the most important reforms are the hardest. As we have seen from today, from this unprecedented public response to his passing, it is those reforms that Australians cherish; it is those reforms that will outlast us all.

Gough, my friend and comrade, rest in peace.

Ms Julie Bishop (Curtin, Liberal Party, Minister for Foreign Affairs) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

Edward Gough Whitlam looms large in our political history and in the national consciousness. While his Prime Ministership between 1972 and 1975 naturally features prominently in his political career, it is not often remembered that he was also the Minister for Foreign Affairs in the period 5 December 1972 until November 1973.

He was a person of great passion and boundless energy. Regarded as one of our great orators, his speeches had the power to move public opinion. As Prime Minister, Gough Whitlam was never satisfied with the status quo; he could always find ways to shift and change policy on so many fronts. His 1969 election campaign speech, for example, was more than 12,000 words long and included more than 80 separate policy announcements. This was an indication of what was to come. His policy announcements covered virtually every aspect of state and federal government responsibilities and included such commitments as signing the nuclear non-proliferation treaty, which was ratified under his prime ministership, and building stronger relations with Indonesia, Singapore and Malaysia.

Some issues are enduring. Gough Whitlam was never one to shy away from risks or controversy. His decision to visit China as opposition leader in 1971 revealed the courage of his convictions in what was a path-breaking decision at the time. History records his angst at his decision to travel and whether or not he should send a delegation rather than go himself, but he had first argued in 1954 for the normalisation of relations with mainland China—a position then at odds with Labor's official policy platform—and so he took the bold political gamble to visit China at a high point in the Cold War. He was vindicated when it was revealed that the United States National Security Adviser, Henry Kissinger, had also been sent to Beijing by President Richard Nixon.

A clear indication of his approach to foreign policy came in his first press conference as Prime Minister on 5 December 1972, when he said:

The change of government does provide a new opportunity for us to reassess a whole range of Australian foreign policies and attitudes … the general direction of my thinking is towards a more independent Australian stance in international affairs, an Australia which will be less militarily oriented and not open to suggestions of racism; an Australia which will enjoy a growing standing as a distinctive, tolerant, co-operative and well regarded nation not only in the Asian and Pacific regions, but in the world at large.

In an earlier speech, in 1968, titled 'Australia as an Asian nation', Mr Whitlam showed considerable prescience as he argued strongly for the benefits of economic development and growth to be spread throughout Asia, and particularly South-East Asia, to ensure the peoples of our region were able to feed themselves. He said:

Australia's road-building teams in Thailand and—

Indonesia—

show what can be achieved for under-developed nations through the application of technical skills in conjunction with relatively minor amounts of capital. This is a form of aid particularly suited to a country which is itself an importer of capital and which is still engaged in major developmental works within its own borders. Australia cannot explore the possibilities of such aid too fully.

This is consistent with the contemporary approach of many aid agencies and governments around the world, including the Australian government, as we seek greater levels of economic growth as a means of alleviating poverty and lifting living standards.

Back in opposition, he was a fierce critic of the government's foreign policy. In a parliamentary speech of 1976, no doubt with memories of recent political events uppermost in his mind, he launched into the foreign policy of his prime ministerial successor with all the flourish that only he could muster and for which he was renowned. I will not try to mimic the voice, but I can hear him saying:

For all its veneer of realism and lofty principle, the statement of the Prime Minister … on foreign affairs was one of the most regrettable and reactionary speeches we have heard in this House. … It displayed the same intellectual impoverishment and ideological rigidity as distinguish the Prime Minister's views on domestic and economic matters.

He went on to talk about:

… its mixture of cold war rhetoric and apocalyptic doom saying—all this rattling of antique sabres and blowing of rusty bugles—

After retiring from parliament in 1978, Gough Whitlam continued to serve this nation as Australia's Ambassador to the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization, and he also chaired the Australia-China Council.

One of the enduring features of his long years as a political leader, ambassador and academic was his partnership with Margaret, his beloved wife of almost 70 years. Like Gough, Margaret was never afraid of voicing her opinions, sometimes to the discomfort of her husband. She said in the 1950s:

I say what I think when I want. I am not a mouthpiece for my husband or for the ALP and it is very frustrating for me when people assume that I am.

Adding to Gough's list of policy ideas, Margaret gave a wide-ranging interview, shortly after her husband had been elected as Prime Minister in 1972, in which she advocated for the legalisation of abortion, marijuana, de facto relationships and equal pay for women. Margaret said that, while she lacked the energy to march in street protests, she was a supporter of the feminist movement. In one memorable speech in response to what she perceived as negative media coverage of her husband, she labelled the members of the press as 'vultures' and 'praying mantises'. The Whitlams were a formidable team. The rich tapestry of their life together is interwoven into our national history. The story of Gough and Margaret Whitlam is one of devotion and dedication—to each other, to our community, to our nation. I join with our parliamentary leaders in extending my condolences to the Whitlam family.

Chris Bowen (McMahon, Australian Labor Party, Shadow Treasurer) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

Arguably more than any man or woman who has ever sat in this parliament, Gough Whitlam did not look at things as they are and ask, 'Why?'; he dreamed of things that never were and asked, 'Why not?' But he did more than dream; he delivered. He had a vision, but he planned to make it a reality. He believed in parliament and parliamentary democracy. He believed in power won at the ballot box and exercised here, for good. He thought this room, or its predecessor down the way, was the most important room in the nation, because it was there that he argued for change and he argued for his vision. He was one of the most formidable debaters ever to grace the chamber, but he won his debates with meticulous attention to detail, with preparation and with substance. He taught Labor how to win, when winning seemed an ancient memory and a distant dream. He believed in winning elections, because winning elections meant changing things, meant implementing policy, meant progressing our nation.

He spent his years as Leader of the Opposition developing a detailed and comprehensive program, which became his talisman, his guiding star, in government. His 1972 speech delivered at the Blacktown Civic Centre almost exactly 42 years ago—this speech I am holding—was visionary and also detailed. His vision was remarkable. He foresaw the rightful place of China in the front ranks of the world's nations. He made the most important foreign policy decision of post-World War II Australia in recognising China. He was castigated for it. He was right. He foresaw a nation in which a university education was not the plaything of a privileged few but the birthright of every Australian who chooses to take it up. He imagined an Australia in which good health care was the universal right of all. He dreamed of an Australia in which our first peoples had rights to the land they had cared for for 40,000 years. But he did more than dream of these things; he delivered them. His period as Prime Minister was not the longest—far from the longest—of all those who have held that office, but his record of achievement rivals all.

It is true that Gough Whitlam was trained in the classics. He was a constitutional scholar, a Queen's Counsel, a historian and a polymath, but today I would like to speak of a slightly different Gough Whitlam—a Gough Whitlam who understood the hopes, demands and aspirations of ordinary Australians; a local member and a local resident; a man who lived in Western Sydney and loved it; the Gough Whitlam I knew early in my life and late in his, who kept his sympathies and passions for working people right through his life. When he entered this parliament in 1952, the seat of Werriwa extended from Goulburn to Cabramatta, via Cronulla. Successive redistributions made it exclusively a Western Sydney seat, representing the people of Liverpool, Fairfield and Cabramatta, people now represented by the current member for Werriwa, the member for Fowler and me. When he became Prime Minister he, Margaret and the family lived in Arthur Street, Cabramatta in a house that still stands today—perhaps a house which might one day be acquired by the government. He celebrated Labor's historic election win on 2 December 1972 at the El Toro Inn at Warwick Farm. He lived and breathed the aspirations of the people of Western Sydney for a fair go, and he applied them to the suburbs and the regions of the nation.

Last year a book was published which argued that the election of Gough Whitlam as Labor leader marked the beginning of the transition of the ALP away from a mass working class party towards an elitist one which prioritised social reform and the environment over economic growth. I said at the time that to prosecute this argument is to fundamentally misunderstand and underestimate Gough Whitlam. Yes, he progressed social reforms important to a progressive Australia—reforms that were overdue. He was cut of a different cloth to Calwell or, indeed, to Curtin and Chifley as the son of a senior public servant who had received a first-class university education and was an accomplished lawyer. But his program always had working people at its heart.

Almost 40 years after he left office he is still much beloved on the streets of Western Sydney not because of the social reforms he introduced but because he brought sewers to Western Sydney. It was not some elitist agenda driving him to fund the construction of a sewerage system; it was because of his time living in Arthur Street, Cabramatta that he understood that it was simply not right that so many people not have access to such an important and basic service as late as the 1970s. And the lessons he learnt in Western Sydney he applied right across the country.

Given that Gough combined a love of the classics with a passion for practical achievement, he loved what Neville Wran said of him:

It was said of Caesar Augustus that he found Rome brick, and left it marble. It will be said of Gough Whitlam that he found the outer suburbs of Sydney, Melbourne and Brisbane unsewered, and left them fully flushed.

And it was this same understanding of what is important to ordinary people that led him to fund the construction of a first-class teaching hospital at Westmead. He said it just could not stand that the people of Western Sydney should not have access to a first-class health facility. He offered Premier Askin the funding. Premier Askin rejected the funding because it was not a priority, a decision which did not stand public scrutiny and was reversed quickly. As a result, many millions of people have received first-class health care in Western Sydney, with Westmead Hospital at the core of what is now a healthcare district. The verdict of history is clear: no Whitlam, no Westmead.

Gough and Margaret retained their interest in Western Sydney for long after it was a necessary thing to do for political purposes. Until age forbade it they were regular attenders at functions in our home city of Fairfield and in Western Sydney. In typical Gough style he would refer to Fairfield in Italian as Campobello, and a few years ago the people of Fairfield and Fairfield council erected an obelisk, a statute to honour his contribution. The Leader of the Opposition referred to Gough Whitlam's complex relationship with God. On this occasion he pointed out that such honours were normally reserved for people about to die. He informed the gathered group that he had no intention of dying any time soon and that he was confident in this 'because God would not welcome the competition in Heaven'—in a way that only he could get away with.

I talk of the commitment of Gough and Margaret to Western Sydney not to be parochial—he was a giant figure who bestrode the whole nation—but to underline the fact that he was essentially a man of the people. He and Margaret were deeply honoured when the joint replacement centre at Fairfield Hospital was named after each of them. Thousands of people have received new joints at that hospital. I was there a few weeks ago with the member for Ballarat, showing her around. It was a justified honour because it underlined their commitment to improving the lives of ordinary people. Gough Whitlam was a man of the people. He was an educated one, a refined one, an aesthetic one but a man of the people no less.

In the last 12 months, the Labor Party has lost two giants: Wran and Whitlam. Both were visionaries. Both were pragmatists. Both believed in delivering for Australians of all walks of life. It is depressing to think that we have lost them. It is inspiring to know that we had them.

Gough Whitlam was a public servant, not a perfect servant, but Australia is unquestionably a better place—a fairer place, a more modern place, a more progressive place—because he lived and he chose to devote his life to the service of the public.

It seems appropriate to invoke Shakespeare in talking of such a great man:

He was a man, take him for all in all,

I shall not look upon his like again

Barnaby Joyce (New England, National Party, Minister for Agriculture) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

I rise to concur with the remarks that have been made. I remember few things from when I was eight, but I certainly remember where I was on 11 November 1975, as I suppose many people in this room do. I must admit that the discussion that happened under the banana palm at Henderson Street, Valla Beach between ourselves and our neighbours showed two distinct sides of a political fence. But why was it that one person could have such an emblematic effect on the Australian people? Why was it that one person had the capacity to draw people out? Why was it that one person had so much presence?

At six foot four inches tall Margaret said that he was the most delicious thing she had ever seen, and it is with great loyalty that their relationship, their marriage lasted for so long and was so self-fulfilling for both of them. But I think to remember Whitlam we have to look at the colour of the person—the wit of the person—and I think the retort from Charlie Jones is one of the classics that remain. Whitlam in describing himself said:

I travel economy and I'm a great man, and I could travel economy the rest of my life and I'd still be a great man. But most of the people around this table—

and that was the cabinet—

are pissants, and they could travel first class the rest of their lives and they'd still be pissants.

This bravado and colour gave Whitlam presence. This bravado and colour was emblematic of courage, and courage and presence gave nurture to vision—courage, presence, vision and wit. Whitlam was a breath of fresh air. He stepped away from the former doctrinaire process of politics. He was a staple that heralded a new political age. He was the new Labor leader. He was a Labor leader from a new form of schooling. He was seen in many instances as Liberal in his views. My parents when they had a choice between McMahon or Whitlam voted for Whitlam. They didn't the second time. But this was how he was seen: he was seen as visionary.

His courage was evident when, at the outbreak of World War II, he joined the Sydney University Regiment in 1939. He did not need to be called; he joined. His courage was seen when he advanced to the rank of flight lieutenant and was in the 13 Squadron, flying a Lockheed Ventura bomber, I believe.

His courage was present when he stood up for funding for Catholic schools. I would like to quote something from 10 August 1969 at the Sydney Town Hall, when there was a rally and those who stood up against Catholic school funding were heckling him from the audience. He looked at them, to one lady in particular, and said, 'Go back to Belfast!' From a person who had been schooled at Knox Grammar, who had grown up on the Protestant side of the fence, it was yet another statement of a person who had real courage and commitment, who would stand against the crowd.

His courage was there when he was threatened with disendorsement by the Labor Party. His courage was there when he resigned on behalf of Brian Harradine, because Brian Harradine was not going to be given a position on executive. He stood to the challenge of a vote and won the vote. This is the reason the person is a giant. This is the reason the person is emblematic. This is the reason the person has character. And this is the reason this person is so well remembered.

Whitlam also had a vision of decentralisation. Gough Whitlam showed this vision in pushing the Labor Party to adopt policies that pushed their focus past the outer suburbs of major cities and into regional towns and growth centres of inland Australia. Gough once said in the parliament:

One of the saddest things in Australia is that whenever one goes to the country one finds a local newspaper and a report of farewell for some teenager or man or woman in his or her early 20s who is leaving for the city.

By which is meant the state capital. It is something that still happens too often today. The results of the Whitlam government's regional initiatives and that subsequent governments have been mixed. Still, Whitlam introduced changes to regional development policy that persist today. He substantially extended the use of section 96 to provide direct Commonwealth payment to local governments, including introducing a Commonwealth Grants Commission process to make payments to local governments based on need. Under special legislation introduced by the Whitlam government, Australia was carved into 76 regions with different types of regional organisations established in them. One of those was the Western Sydney Regional Organisation of Councils. WSROC still exists today and most local governments are members of regional cooperative societies and surrounding administrations. He established the Albury-Wodonga Development Corporation, the results of which are seen in a population in excess of 100,000 people today.

Whitlam also was a person who saw his future and the future of the nation in education and in his engagement with China with Zhou Enlai. Whitlam was also a person of strong intellect and a student of the classics. He used his prize money from winning the 1948 and 1949 Australian National Quiz Championship as part of his deposit on a house. The other part came from his war service loan. This was a house in Cronulla.

But Whitlam in a way helps us to find who we are. Yes, at times, it became tribal—it became, in some instances, hostile. But he was a person who helped everybody to find where they stood politically. I must admit that there are so many on this side who found their way into politics, as noted by the Deputy Prime Minister, because of an opposition to some of what Whitlam represented. But no-one ever doubted the integrity of his beliefs. No-one ever doubted the strengths of his beliefs. No-one ever doubted his passion. No-one ever had to be told twice as to what he was saying. It was quite clear he knew who he was and he knew where his nation was to go.

A notable anecdote has been given to me by one of the staff in my office. She was working with the Australian high commission in Nigeria in 1980 and recalls a delightful visitor, Whitlam, who after he had left politics came as part of a delegation. She recalled how he was charming and witty as a dinner guest. Coincidentally, a French vin ordinaire was served for dinner with a brand of Agneau Blanc. He declared his gratitude that she had served such an appropriately named wine. He took the empty bottle back to his room, soaked the label off as a memento, and gave it to her. She also received a charming note. That is also a statement of the humility of a person who looks into the heart of someone that is just passing by and makes sure that their life is a better place by meeting them.

After Whitlam came Hawke. Many would say that because of Whitlam came Hawke. Whitlam deserves the honour of our nation as one of the great politicians of our time, one of the great politicians of our era. In so doing we also remember the life of Margaret and offer our condolences to the children of their union: Nick, Tony, Stephen and Catherine. May he rest in peace.

Mr Tony Burke (Watson, Australian Labor Party, Shadow Minister for Finance) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

I do not come from a political family and I clearly remember my first political conversation. It was in the kindergarten school playground and a friend asked me, 'Are you Liberal or Labor?' It was 12 November 1975. For as long as I have known a thing called politics, I have known Gough Whitlam. Today we are in a different chamber to the one that Gough graced. We have the same mace and we speak from the same dispatch boxes that he spoke at as Leader of the Opposition and as Prime Minister. The great tragedy of our speeches today is that Gough is not available to deliver one of them. It would be an extraordinary speech and also, no doubt, an effusive speech.

Following the birth of my youngest daughter I was on the phone to Gough and he asked what I had named her and I said it was Helena. He then went through immediately the entire history of the name, to which I stupidly said, 'Gough, I didn't know that.' And he responded, 'Well, Tony, you only need to talk to me for a very short time and you will always learn something.'

He had thought on numerous occasions facetiously about the events of today. The late Cardinal Clancy used to often relate his conversation with Gough when Gough had inquired as to whether or not St Mary's Cathedral might be available for a funeral, which surprised Cardinal Clancy given that he was not expecting Gough to convert to Catholicism. Gough explained, no, no, no, it was not for the Catholic funeral; it was because he wanted to be buried in the crypt—claiming that he was willing to pay, but would only require it for three days.

Gough's pride in what he did and his pride in his time as Prime Minister was extraordinary. He would boast that he was confident of the verdict of history given that he had written it. I remember presenting him and asking him to sign a wonderful photo from the Blacktown campaign launch, where he is down on one knee as a member of the crowd is kissing his hand. You can see Bob Hawke clapping; a young George Negus in the background as a media advisor. Gough gazed at the photo for about five minutes before he said, 'Where do I get a photo like this, this big?'

He was so proud of the time he had spent, but to understand the impact I think we have to see it, in part, through the people he touched. You could not go to a function in multicultural Australia, in modern multicultural Sydney, without seeing Gough being treated as a hero—the Greek community, with their love of his support for the return of the Parthenon Marbles; him proudly boasting of himself as a Philhellene—but I do not think any impact prepared me for when I had the job that the previous speaker, the member for New England, now has. As Australia's agriculture minister I visited the site of Expo Shanghai. The director of Expo Shanghai, the Chinese director, took me aside and said, 'Could you please pass on my regards to Gough Whitlam. Do you know him?' I said, 'Yes.' He said: 'That man changed my life. During the Cultural Revolution I had been sent to the rice paddies for re-education because I could speak English. I thought that was where my life would end. And after a number of years some Chinese officials arrived and said, "There is a big man coming from overseas and we need an interpreter; will you come to Beijing?"' He was then asked again to be the interpreter when Gough returned for a visit as Prime Minister and then, ultimately, was deployed to a new Chinese embassy in Canberra. The impact of Gough Whitlam has not just ricocheted around this parliament and around this nation, it has ricocheted around the world.

We will talk today about many of the high point policy issues of education and health, and he could speak about them at extraordinary length. At the branch meeting gatherings that the member for Sydney, the Deputy Leader of the Opposition referred to, I remember many of those where the greatest honour would be if, as Gough left the room, you were asked to be the person who he would lean on as his great weight and ageing body would walk, leaving the room, with his hand on the shoulder of the designated fellow tall person. You would often make a mistake such as providing too many topic areas when he was giving a branch meeting speech. At the Kingsgrove RSL on one occasion he opened by saying, 'I have been asked to speak on a few topics to choose from,' and he listed the seven. He gave a 20-minute speech and then said, 'Now, No. 2,' and the crowd sat there for an hour and a half easily, not missing a beat.

But I would, if I may, just leave on a couple of thoughts about things we now take for granted that would have been otherwise if it were not for Gough in both the environment and the arts. In the environment, were it not for the Seas and Submerged Lands Act, the Bjelke-Petersen government would have commenced drilling in the Great Barrier Reef. The Great Barrier Reef, where we have seen protection by subsequent governments—the Fraser government, and I pay credit to the Howard government for the marine park protection they put in place, and Labor governments as well—would have been a drilling site were it not for Gough Whitlam. Gough Whitlam saw Australia sign the World Heritage Convention. Without the World Heritage Convention, we would not have protected the Franklin, the Daintree, Kakadu; the World Heritage Committee's decision of earlier this year, that environmental protection would not be wound back within Tasmania, would have been impossible.

In the arts, it was not just a side issue for Gough; it was about understanding Australian identity, proudly talking about it to Australians and allowing that vision of Australia to be shown to the world. He included an arts policy in his 1972 campaign speech. We would have no National Gallery of Australia, we would have no Australia Council; without the Film Commission, movies like Picnic at Hanging Rock and Gallipoli would not have been made. This was a man who understood what we were already and knew how we could lift our gaze and become a nation that was so much more. The Whitlam government might have been a story for three years; the legacy is a story for countless generations.

Christopher Pyne (Sturt, Liberal Party, Minister for Education) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

I am very pleased to associate myself with remarks that have already been made in this condolence motion following the death today of the Hon. EG Whitlam AC, QC. Gough Whitlam's life was a life given over to public service and the doing of great deeds. In thinking of Whitlam, I am reminded of the writings of Plutarch in writing about the life of Pericles in his book about the lives of the Athenians. He wrote:

Virtue in action immediately takes such hold of a man that he no sooner admires a deed than he sets out to follow in the steps of the doer.

You always got the impression with Gough Whitlam that he was a follower of heroes, but also wanted to be a hero himself. In fact, to many in the non-Labor side of politics, as is clear by this debate so far and from what I am sure is to come, he is a hero to many in the non-Labor side of politics. To me, Gough Whitlam conjures up images of a great ancient Greek or Roman statesman: a person of great wit, sophistication, eloquence and privilege but giving his life over to public service—seeing public service as the most important thing that he could do to make his society and his country a greater place. He could have continued to have a career at the bar. He was admitted to the bar in New South Wales and federally in 1947 and no doubt, with his obvious great eloquence, his very sharp mind and his wit, he would have been a very successful barrister—very likely to have been a judge of the New South Wales or an Australian court and made a great contribution. But, as is on the record, he instead chose to go into parliament, trying several times before he was successful in 1952 as the member for Werriwa, where he stayed throughout his political career.

Unlike other members of parliament and other prime ministers, he absolutely loved the chamber. The chamber was the great place for him to make some of his best lines and to have influence over the country. He saw it as the place where two great political parties came together and faced off against each other—certainly peacefully but not without passion and often not without rancour. Many would say he dominated the Australian parliament, certainly as Prime Minister and probably as Leader of the Opposition, arguing the Labor case in the face of opposition from the then Liberal and National parties—the Liberal and Country parties.

He was one of the parliament's great parliamentary performers and will always be remembered as such. When I was a very young man I worked for Amanda Vanstone. She was putting together a book of the great parliamentary speeches since Federation and as an 18- or 19-year-old she asked me to ring Gough Whitlam, which I did. I spoke to him and said: 'Senator Vanstone'—whom he liked, of course; it is hard not to like Amanda Vanstone, indeed—'for whom I work is putting together a book of the great parliamentary speeches and would obviously like to include one of yours, Mr Whitlam.' I said: 'Which one would you like me to include?' He said, 'Any one will do.'

You certainly got the sense in talking with Gough Whitlam that he was very joyous—very joyous about public service, about politics and about the parliament. He loved the job of being Prime Minister. He was very fond of quoting Benjamin Disraeli. When Benjamin Disraeli was trying on the robes of the Chancellor of the Exchequer, the tailor said to him, 'Do you find them heavy, Mr Chancellor?' Disraeli said: 'No, I find them uncommonly light.' Indeed, he tried to convey how much he liked public service and that it certainly was not a burden to him.

I was very glad when Malcolm Fraser as the Prime Minister appointed Gough Whitlam to be our ambassador to UNESCO, because it showed not only a great bipartisanship and a sense of acknowledgement that Gough Whitlam had made a great contribution to Australia as a parliamentarian, but it also meant that Gough Whitlam's public service did not end with his leadership of the opposition in 1977. It did not end, having been removed in 1975, then losing and again losing in 1977. He got to continue that public service as a legate of the Australian government overseas in an important posting in a great city like Paris. It showed a great sense of occasion on the part of then Prime Minister Fraser and it also allowed a great Australian parliamentarian and politician to retire gracefully, still showing his continuing public service. Indeed, the very fact that Gough Whitlam remained in politics after 1975 showed what a great and courageous person he was as a politician. Following those extraordinary scenes in 1975, he would have been forgiven for deciding to retire; but he chose not to. His commitment to the Labor Party, to the cause and to his belief that he had been unfairly treated was such that he wanted to give the Australian people a second chance to either vote him out again, or to vote him in and undo the 1975 result. That shows great political fortitude on his part and is the mark of a great politician.

I know today is not the day for political rancour or partisanship, but I do say this: one of the reasons Gough Whitlam looms so large in our political history is because Australia has not had the great civil wars and the great conflagrations that have marked some other democracies like, for example, the United States. So the 1975 period is one of the most extraordinary in Australia's political history, and that is why Gough Whitlam will always be remembered, alongside Malcolm Fraser, as a great political figure. They were there at one of the most extraordinary events in our parliamentary history.

All of us will remember where we were in 1975. As Barnaby Joyce has indicated what he was doing, I will just briefly say where I was—because I was only eight. My mother was ironing and I was watching Adventure Island, which many people will remember; I remember my mother was ironing and I was watching Adventure Island, and my mother started crying. I thought: ' I wonder why my mother's crying?' I have to let you in on a secret: she was not crying out of sadness when she heard the Whitlam government had been dismissed. She was crying out of joy.

In closing, may I way that I wish to express my condolences to the extended Whitlam family. I am pleased to have been able to contribute to this debate and I look forward to the debate continuing beyond this contribution.

Anthony Albanese (Grayndler, Australian Labor Party, Shadow Minister for Infrastructure and Transport) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

I am humbled to be able to make a contribution to this very significant condolence debate and follow the generous and kind words of the Prime Minister, the Leader of the Opposition, the Deputy Prime Minister, the Deputy Leader of the Opposition and others who have made a contribution. I begin by expressing my condolences to Tony—who, of course, was a former federal Labor member for Grayndler as well—to Nicholas, to Stephen, to Catherine, to their partners and to their family.

Gough Whitlam was a giant among Australians. He was a great parliamentarian but also a great citizen. At a time when much of the political debate is in the weeds and the details, he soared above the political landscape as a figure in Australian politics. He both anticipated and was able to create the future by his actions. Whether he was in a small meeting room, at a dinner or at a public event, everyone else seemed to fade to black and white while this giant of a man, physically and intellectually, appeared there in full colour and dominated the venue.

He, came to office with an extraordinary agenda. The Whitlam and Barnard government was the entire government for 15 days. Gough had 13 portfolios. In a rare sense of generosity, Barnard had 14. He worked on all the reforms that he could deliver without legislation: reforms that had been in the waiting, some of them, for 23 years. He ordered full diplomatic relations with China and ended relations with Taiwan. He withdrew troops from Vietnam. At that time there were seven young men incarcerated in jail for refusing to serve in Vietnam. He released them under the powers that were there for ministerial intervention and they were released from jail. He reopened the equal pay case before the Conciliation and Arbitration Commission. He appointed Elizabeth Evatt to that commission. He also banned racially based sporting teams. Of course, the issue of the apartheid based teams from South Africa were, at the time, very controversial indeed. That short couple of weeks was a sign of things to come, and in three years he did not waste a day. They were three years of enormous reform that transformed our nation into the modern Australia that we see today.

His passing will have a huge impact on so many Australians, because he had an impact on them. When Gough was elected, I was living in Camperdown with my mum and my grandparents. I got to hand out in 1972, as you did as part of the faith, and I remember the extraordinary celebration in my local community, where people had been thinking that Labor would never quite get across the line. He made a difference, such as the changes to social security for my mum, who was on the pension. He changed being on social security from something that meant you were not 'good enough to be a real member of society' to treating people with respect. He transformed the health system by the introduction of Medibank, torn down when the conservatives came back into office but now essentially an article of faith in this parliament whereby no-one can openly say that they are opposed to the universality of public health care. He changed education so that it was based on merit, not on how wealthy your parents were. His reforms sent a message to young people all over the country: dare to dream, be your best, aim high. That was a call that was answered by many people on all sides of the chamber who are the first people in their family to go to university.

He opened Australia up internationally and saw us as not just an adjunct to the motherland based in London but as a nation that could stand on our own two feet, proudly. He recognised and made the first major steps to reconciliation after the struggle of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Australians and their supporters. It was that image of Gough passing the red dirt through Vincent Lingiari's hands that I think marked a turning point in Australian history with regard to taking the walk and the journey to full reconciliation with the First Australians. Paul Kelly put it very eloquently in his song From Little Things Big Things Growand they have indeed from that. In terms of the artistic community, he transformed the way that we see ourselves. Speaking of Paul Kelly, 2JJ and the recognition of youth music culture was a part of Gough's legacy.

An area that has inspired much of my contribution to this parliament has been infrastructure, urban policy and regional economic development. Gough's dear friend and comrade Tom Uren is my mentor more than anyone else in political life. I spoke at the National Press Club three weeks ago, and I began that speech by quoting Gough Whitlam in 1972 at his Blacktown Civic Centre campaign launch, where he said:

A national government which cuts itself off from responsibility for the nation’s cities is cutting itself off from the nation’s real life. A national government which has nothing to say about cities has nothing relevant or enduring to say about the nation or the nation’s future. Labor is not a city-based party. It is a people-based party, and the overwhelming majority of our people live in cities and towns across our nation.

The fact that you can say so many of Gough Whitlam's quotes in 2014 and they are as relevant today as they were then is indicative of just how far ahead of the game he was. He was ahead of the game within our party as well. He understood that you had to take power away from the factional bosses on the national executive. There are those photos of him being excluded from the decision making that was taking place within the party from the entrenched interests. He reformed the Australian Labor Party and made it a modern political party—at great cost to people who, of course, wanted him expelled from the Labor Party at that time.

In terms of Gough Whitlam's legacies, he is someone who will be regarded very fondly, indeed. As the Leader of the House said, there is no doubt that the events of 11 November 1975 will loom large over the debate about his legacy. On that day, my history teacher at the time, Vince Crow, walked into my history class at St Mary's Cathedral and announced: 'Our Prime Minister has been sacked and our government has been overthrown.' They were good people, the Christian Brothers! They understood class politics. I was home very late that day, as there was a fair bit of activity in the city of Sydney. There were police on horses and there were people attacking the stock exchange. They were very turbulent times, indeed. In spite of the great injustice that had been done to the government, Gough Whitlam played a role in maintaining the national cohesion—then and beyond. He held a demonstration there two days afterwards. We were all excused from wagging class to go across to The Domain—that was our playground at school. At that time, he said: 'Express your views through the ballot box.' A great democrat was Gough Whitlam, and he will be remembered for it.

I conclude by saying that I think the legacy of our political contribution can be judged by the permanency of it. If you look at Gough Whitlam's great reforms—access to education being opened up, recognition of China, engagement of our lives in the full cultural activities, and removal of discrimination against women and on the basis of race through the Racial Discrimination Act—all of these measures have stood the test of time. All of them were very controversial at that time. Gough Whitlam leaves a great legacy to the nation. He taught us to be brave—brave about our reform ambitions, brave in the face of our critics and unstintingly brave in the pursuit of the greatest ambition any of us could ever pursue: justice and opportunity for all.

Kevin Andrews (Menzies, Liberal Party, Minister for Social Services) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

It is commonly said that this House is the crucible of Australian democracy—a place where public policy is tested and refined before being put into practical effect. It is a place that is also adversarial by definition—a place where contending ideas and political philosophies jostle for dominance and dominion. It is here at these dispatch boxes in the front line of that battle for ideas where, from time to time, appears an issue that transcends the hurly-burly and the cut and thrust of day-to-day political discourse. This is precisely such an occasion. We are here today to mark the passing of Edward Gough Whitlam—a man whose eminence in and service to our nation's political life is beyond dispute. It is not that I agreed with all or, perhaps, even most of what Gough Whitlam's political philosophy was about, but, that disagreement notwithstanding, there is no denying that Gough Whitlam dominated the public policy arena of his day.

When Gough assumed the role of federal Labor leader in 1967, he assumed the helm of a political party that was at its lowest ebb. In opposition since 1949, Labor had been riven by disunion and demoralised by serial failures at the ballot box. Yet, over the space of just four short years, he was able to reorganise the Australian Labor Party, leading a revivified and reinvigorated party to victory in 1972. He adopted a strategy designed to expand Labor's appeal beyond the traditional blue-collar vote, taking deliberate measures to woo middle-class voters to the ranks of the ALP. He recognised the social and demographic changes of the 1960s and 1970s and responded with a strategy that met a new set of public desires and public expectations. Of course, Labor's slogan for that election reflected the political brilliance of its leader. The mantra 'It's time' was simple, direct and literally rolled off the tongue—and, truth be told, we Liberals could not compete. By virtue of that slogan and Whitlam's immense charisma, Labor swept to power in a massive landslide. Labor's 1972 election triumph was a signal achievement in the annals of Australian politics that remains unmatched today.

Gough proved, as many speakers have said this afternoon, no less dynamic upon coming into office. He was nothing if not decisive. Constrained by the inner workings of the federal ALP caucus, he instituted the famed duopoly, where, along with Deputy Leader Lance Barnard, he governed the nation for a fortnight until Labor's frontbench could be chosen. He ended conscription by fiat, withdrew Australian troops from Vietnam and established a federal department of Aboriginal affairs. He noted the incongruity—indeed, the immorality—of a system where young men were deemed old enough to fight but were not old enough to exercise the franchise, amending the Commonwealth Electoral Act to lower the voting age to 18 years. He was also responsible for passing legislation that extended Senate representation to the ACT and the Northern Territory, and he accomplished equally remarkable things in the policy space that is relevant to my current portfolio, social services.

In fact, I think it can be fairly said that if Gough Whitlam was not the father of the Australian welfare state, he at least served the role of midwife. His watch as Prime Minister saw the establishment of Medibank, now known as Medicare. He engineered a massive broadening of tertiary education opportunities by implementing fee-free university studies. He oversaw an increase of the basic pension rate to 25 per cent of average weekly earnings and the enactment of consumer protection legislation. And he introduced sole parent benefits at a time when relationship breakdown threatened to cast thousands of women and children into penury.

Gough Whitlam was not a man to hasten slowly; it was pedal to the metal leadership, whose motto was 'crash or crash through'. At times, the sheer ambition of his agenda perhaps caused him to overreach. At times, his impatient assertiveness could lead him astray. Ultimately, it was this crash or crash through ethos that led to the later outcome. Yet, even at that moment of the dismissal, at the nadir of his political fortunes, Gough Whitlam's sheer brilliance as a communicator shone through, etching itself into our national psyche and our national history. 'Well may we say "God save the Queen", because no-one will save the Governor-General.' It was sheer genius.

Thus one does not have to be in agreement with Gough Whitlam's political world view to recognise the immensity of his role in our politics and his impact on national life nor to mention, as many others have said this afternoon, his generosity or wit. I recall speaking to him at one occasion. I think it was the centenary of the Federation at the Victorian parliament when we all gathered. He asked me about my background, which I explained, to which he replied, 'Well, Comrade, had I come along earlier, you would be on our side.'

I would like to join others in conveying my sincerest condolences to his children, Tony, Nicholas, Stephen and Catherine. Vale Edward Gough Whitlam. You were a colossus who walked amongst us. The world will be a less interesting and less colourful place for your passing. You were a parliamentarian and a Prime Minister, but most of all you were a public servant and a patriot. May you rest in peace.

Jenny Macklin (Jagajaga, Australian Labor Party, Shadow Minister for Families and Payments) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

There were not many of us wearing 'We want Gough' badges in Wangaratta in 1974, as I lined up to cast my first vote. Gough had brought the voting age down from 21 to 18 just a year earlier and my friends and I, like many other idealistic young Australians, were swept up in the feeling that finally our time had come, change was here. Reducing the voting age to 18 was just one of those many changes of the Whitlam government which put young people at the centre of the Australian political debate. It was Gough who made sure that the boys I went to school with would not be drafted and sent to Vietnam. For our generation, the end of conscription was personal and transformative.

Gough's was a government that spoke to young Australians in a way that governments never had previously. It was a government that cared about us and he cared about our future. It was a very heady time for those of us who wanted a society that was more open and more equal, and finally we had a government prepared to deliver on the changes to society that we wanted. For a young feminist, Gough was the first Prime Minister to make it clear to young women that we could be all that we hoped for.

One of the first acts of the Whitlam government was to reopen the equal pay case, a case that led to significant improvements in the pay for women. It was the Whitlam government in its first week in power that removed the Commonwealth sales tax on the contraceptive pill and made it available through the Pharmaceutical Benefits Scheme. Whitlam also outlawed discrimination on the grounds of pregnancy and introduced paid maternity leave for Commonwealth employees. It took until 2011 for Australia to get our first national Paid Parental Leave Scheme, but it was Gough who got the ball rolling.

I am acutely aware of the pioneering work that Gough did on reconciliation and land rights. It was the Whitlam government that paved the way for Aboriginal land rights through the implementation of the 1965 International Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Racial Discrimination and it was this act that enabled Aboriginal people to put their land rights arguments before the courts. It was the Whitlam government that established the Aboriginal Land Fund, enabling Aboriginal people to buy back their traditional lands and, as a result, the Gurindji people were able to regain ownership of their land. It was the Whitlam government that drafted the Aboriginal Land Rights (Northern Territory) Bill and now more than 42,000 square kilometres of land in the Northern Territory is in Aboriginal hands.

In the second Vincent Lingiari memorial lecture in 1997, Gough spoke passionately about the need to correct what he saw as a flaw in the Australian Constitution—its exclusion of any mention of Aboriginal people. Gough always said that his first political campaign was conducted on Aboriginal lands in the cause of reforming the Australian Constitution. He said this was back in 1944 in Yirrkala in the Northern Territory. Gough continued throughout his life the campaign for the rights of Indigenous people and now so should we.

It was the Whitlam government that decided to increase pensions to 25 per cent of average weekly earnings, recognising that this would enable pensioners' standard of living to better keep up with the standard of living of other Australians. And another of Gough's great achievements was the establishment of the Woodhouse inquiry into compensation and rehabilitation. The story of the National Disability Insurance Scheme starts with Gough. The inquiry demonstrated the importance of a social insurance approach to the provision of support to people with disability and became a significant step in the campaign for our National Disability Insurance Scheme. In 1974, Gough said:

We want to reduce hardships imposed by one of the great factors for inequality in society—inequality of luck. Australians should not have to live in doubt or anxiety, lest injury or sickness reduce them to poverty.

Legislation for disability insurance was before the parliament when the government was removed in 1975. Of course people with disability had to wait until 2013 before they would finally start to get the support they deserve. And funding for this transformative Disability Insurance Scheme will come in part from an increase to the Medicare levy. This levy, too, had its origins in the Whitlam government's creation of our universal health insurance scheme, then Medibank, now Medicare. Medicare and the National Disability Insurance Scheme are two of the pillars of the Australian way of life and Gough was the embodiment of this commitment to improving the lives of everyday Australians to creating a fairer, more inclusive and just Australia.

I am so pleased that I, as a young country girl, was able to cast my first vote for this extraordinary man. His influence on me and on our country will never be forgotten.

Malcolm Turnbull (Wentworth, Liberal Party, Minister for Communications) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

I am very pleased and very honoured to associate myself with all of these fine speeches today remembering my good friend and constituent Gough Whitlam. Gough Whitlam was always at pains to remind me that he was my constituent, addressing me generally loudly and at a distance as 'My Member, My Member', just to make it quite clear that I had certain obligations to him.

We are here also to extend our condolences to Tony, Nick, Stephen and Catherine and their families. It is a time of great sadness for the Whitlam family and for Gough's friends but it should also be a time of joy. Gough lived to a great age and he had a great life. He was a big man with a big vision for a big country. He was an optimist. He was funny. He was witty. He always said, 'Don't say I'm funny; say I'm witty.' Well, he was witty and funny. In all of that we should celebrate his life.

We know Gough Whitlam's government was not unmarked by error. It was a controversial time and I will say a little bit about the influence of that on the Labor Party in a moment. We have to remember that the economic arguments of those days have largely receded into history. The truth is that nobody on our side or on the Labor side would agree with Gough's economic agenda. We would not agree with Billy McMahon's economic agenda. Life has moved on, but what is remembered is the myth of Gough or, as Gough would say, 'the mythos of Gough'. What is that thread, that narrative that emerges from history out of the humdrum daily grind of political argument? What is it? It is an enormous optimism and all of us admire that, whether we voted for him in the seventies or our parents voted for him, or whether we approved of what John Kerr did or not, all of that recedes. What people remember of Gough Whitlam is a bigness, generosity, an enormous optimism and ambition for Australia. That is something we can all subscribe to.

As many speakers have said, Gough was a great parliamentarian. He loved this place—not this chamber so much as the one he served in. He loved this parliament but he was also an active citizen. He did not just make his political contribution while he was a member of parliament; he continued to make a contribution to Australian politics and to public affairs and to cultural debate throughout his entire life. He left the office of Prime Minister nearly 40 years ago, yet he has been an active voice in the Australian public debate ever since. He was, as the member for Watson and the member for Sydney recalled, very active in the Republican Movement, in the campaign for Australia to have one of its own as its head of state. I remember recruiting Malcolm Fraser and Gough Whitlam to come onto the same platform and speak in favour of the yes vote in the referendum. I thought I would share with honourable members my recollection from my account of that time. I rang Gough on 8 July 1999 and I noted:

I spoke to Gough Whitlam today, or rather he spoke to me, for about 40 minutes. He is happy to speak for a yes vote and with Malcolm Fraser. Gough said, 'Malcolm, I'm tired of these professors, no, associate professors of Constitutional law theorising about constitutional crises. I know about constitutional crises.'

Interestingly one of the features of the republican model in that referendum campaign, as some members may recall, was that, while the President would be appointed by a joint sitting of both houses of parliament in a bipartisan vote, the President could be removed by the Prime Minister, but the President could not be replaced by the Prime Minister. The senior state Governor would fill that place and then there would have to be a bipartisan appointment of a new President. Both Whitlam and Fraser were of the view that, if that arrangement had been in place in 1975, Kerr would not have sacked Whitlam because both of them were of the view—Malcolm Fraser especially and perhaps with more insight—that the reason Kerr had sacked Whitlam was to pre-empt Whitlam sacking him—an interesting footnote to that history.

Gough was remarkably generous to everyone he dealt with. As the Prime Minister said, he was a very hard man to disagree with and an almost impossible man to dislike. He was full of arcane knowledge; the Prime Minister referred to his knowledge of ecclesiastical matters, and he had an extraordinary interest in genealogy—almost anybody's genealogy. If he learned one thing about your family—a third cousin or an aunt or a great-aunt—he would remember it and then remind you of it. He was very, very well informed about this. I saw this in action in 1986, when I called him as a witness in the Spycatcher trial to give evidence on behalf of my client, Peter Wright. I was hoping that Gough would be indignant about the evidence we had produced that the British security service, MI5, had been—without any legal authority at all—bugging all sorts of people in Britain, including Patricia Hewitt, who had been the secretary of the National Council for Civil Liberties and was at that time Neil Kinnock's private secretary. She went on, of course, to become a cabinet minister and so forth. I tendered some evidence about this, and Gough immediately lit on Patricia Hewitt's name. He said, 'I know this one—Mr Kinnock's private secretary. I've known her all her life. I went to school with her mother. I've known her mother since I went to school with her in 1930. I've known her father since they were married in 1941. I've known her and her sisters and her brother her whole life.' He went on, and so I said, 'Do you regard her as a person likely to be plotting the violent overthrow of the British government?' Gough said, 'No. I've never felt myself at risk in her company.'

There has been a lot of discussion about Gough's regard for the great beyond. Gough is resolving his relationship with God as we speak, no doubt, but he was always very entertaining about those issues of the divine. I remember 25 years ago, when I was in business with his son Nicholas. Nicholas and Judy brought Gough and Margaret up to visit us at the farm in the Hunter Valley that I had inherited from my father some years before. Unfortunately, a fog had descended on this particular part of the country and you could not see anything. It was just white everywhere you looked; it was like being in a white cloud. I said to Gough, 'I'm really sorry. It's a nice view here but you can't see any of it.' He said, 'Oh, don't be concerned. I'm at completely at home. It's just like Olympus.'

We recognise that all prime ministers capture the attention of the Australian people. Not all prime ministers capture their imagination, and even fewer capture their imagination and retain it for so long. Gough Whitlam was able to do that because of his presence and his eloquence but, above all, because of that generosity of vision I spoke about earlier. He was an enhancer, an enlarger. He was not a mean or negative politician in the way, for example, that another great Labor leader, who also lived to a similar age, Jack Lang, was. Jack Lang was a great hater. Gough Whitlam is a great example to us. He obviously never forgave John Kerr, but look at the way he was able to be reconciled with Malcolm Fraser. That is a great example to all of us. We can learn from Gough Whitlam about the importance of optimism and the importance of having a big vision for our country. I might add that it is important to execute that vision with competence; but, nonetheless, think about the way he did not allow hatred to eat away at him. The reality is that hatred, as we know, destroys and corrodes the hater much more than it hurts the hated, and so many people in our business, in politics, find themselves consumed by hatred and retire into a bitter anecdotage, gnawing away at all of the injustices and betrayals they have suffered through their life. Whitlam was able to rise above that, as we saw in his cooperation and work with Malcolm Fraser on many causes—not just the republic. I recall at one point I was on the opposite side when they were busily campaigning to stop a group I was part of to acquire Fairfax. They had many unity tickets on different matters. Nonetheless, it is a great example for all of us not to be consumed by hatred.

Gough will never be forgotten. He will be given credit, I imagine, for many things that were equally or perhaps even entirely the achievements of others. I heard earlier that Gough Whitlam had ended the White Australia policy. I could just hear Harold Holt turning in his watery grave to hear that! Nonetheless, he was there at a tipping point, a fulcrum point, in our history, and he was able to embody and personify a time of change. By capturing our imagination with such optimism, he will always be a symbol of the greatness, the importance, the value of public life—an example to all of us. We can leave the political agenda to one side, we can leave the debate about his measures to one side and just remember that big, generous, witty, warm man—that giant—and, above all, we must remember that nearly 70 years of marriage, that extraordinary love affair. If Gough is in Olympus, I have no doubt that he is there with Margaret. I think that, in some respects, one of the things we can be happiest about today is the fact that that old couple are no longer apart.

Warren Snowdon (Lingiari, Australian Labor Party, Shadow Parliamentary Secretary for External Territories) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

It is indeed a great honour and privilege to be at the despatch box today to contribute to this fine discussion. I commend all who have spoken for their eloquence and their reverence for the occasion but most importantly for recognising the greatness of Gough Whitlam. I have no doubt—and all the speeches thus far have recognised this—that his efforts made unprecedented transformational change to our national government and to the Australian society. He changed forever the architecture of Australian public policy. In my view, we would not be the proud and confident nation that we are today without his genius.

I was a student at the Australian National University in the early 1970s. As a part-time job I used to drive cabs. Quite often I would be driving past Parliament House in the evening and I would note that the red and green lights would be on above the parliament—though those younger members would not know about this—and I would just stop by and go and sit in the Speaker's Gallery and watch the debate. Other days I would turn up at question time and watch the performance of this great man.

Later, in 1973, I was engaged as a research assistant on a book about the Whitlam government—Out of the wilderness, by Clem Lloyd and Gordon Reid. Through the research job that I had, I got to see firsthand the dynamism of the legislative agenda of the Whitlam government. So I stand here as someone who was of a generation—and there are not many left in this place, with great respect to the member for Berowra—who can, I think, appreciate what that parliament was really like. To all of those who might be listening, to all of those who have the opportunity to look at what happened then and what happens now, I say that there is a difference.

I want to refer to Gough's early days in Gove. Indeed, the Leader of the National Party referred to it, as did my friend the member for Jagajaga. Gough was stationed at Gove airstrip with No. 13 squadron in 1944 for a number of months and he met and established deep friendships with the Marika and Yunupingu families—and I will come to that a little later. As the member for Jagajaga said, this was the site of one of Gough's first political campaigns in support of Labor Prime Minister John Curtin's 1944 referendum on postwar reconstruction and democratic rights. Sadly, it went down and Gough fondly remembered this time, saying:

Our squadron and other members of the Forces voted in favour but the civilians let us down.

One of the powers proposed to be transferred to the Commonwealth in that referendum had been the power to make laws for the Aboriginal race in areas of greatest need—health, social services, land tenure and adherence to international conventions. In the late 1950s much of Gough Whitlam's vision was a result of his work on the Constitutional Review Committee in the 1950s and its recommendations. On this committee Gough travelled the country seeing firsthand the areas of need and inconsistency of service delivery and the place of the Commonwealth to make provision for services and opportunities for all Australians. For instance, it was the Constitutional Review Committee that recommended the repeal of section 127 of the Constitution, the exclusion of Aboriginal Australians from the census. It was not until 1967 that that happened—a decade later.

In 1967, soon after becoming leader of the Labor Party, Gough returned to Gove to investigate all aspects of northern development and resource development. He said at the time: 'I went to see firsthand the water, mineral, agricultural, pastoral and fishing resources and the surface communications.' He made visits right across the Northern Territory. In 1972 the Whitlam government established the first Department of the Capital Territory and the Northern Territory—later to become the first ever Australian Department of Northern Development and the first Australian Department on Northern Australia. Gough, as we have heard previously, was also a driver for Senate representation for the ACT and the Northern Territory. It is worth noting that the Senate (Representation of Territories) Act 1974 was opposed by conservative governments in New South Wales, Queensland and Western Australia on the ground that Territorians could not have senators voting in a states house.

But the policy area where I think Gough Whitlam affected some of his most transformational change was in the area of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander rights. In his 1972 campaign speech, he said:

The inequality suffered by indigenous people should cause Australians an unrelenting and deep determined anger.

He said:

We will legislate to give aborigines land rights—not just because their case is beyond argument, but because all of us as Australians are diminished while the aborigines are denied their rightful place in this nation.

In 1973 he established the Woodward royal commission—the forerunner to the drafting of the Aboriginal Land Rights Act, which was subsequently passed by the Fraser government in 1976—and then, in August 1975, Gough Whitlam, as we have seen, handed Vincent Lingiari, the charismatic leader of the Gurindji, title to 800 square miles of their traditional lands. During that handover, Gough said:

I want to promise you that this act of restitution which we perform today will not stand alone—your fight was not for yourselves alone—and we are determined that Aboriginal Australians everywhere will be helped by it.

And then he said:

Vincent Lingiari, I solemnly hand to you these deeds as proof, in Australian law, that these lands belong to the Gurindji people and I put into your hands part of the earth itself as a sign that this land will be the possession of you and your children forever.

Of course, old Vincent's response was very simple:

We be mates now.

The impact of this on Australian political life and what it has meant for Australian political history is understood. All Australians, I think, as a result of the genius of Gough Whitlam and his team, now understand the importance of establishing, forevermore, the place of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Australians in our lives, of giving restitution and of understanding not the black-armband view of history but the reality of what was so wrong in our past.

I have today received a message from the Gurindji and it says: 'Very sad we lost that old man, but good because now people all over Australia will be reminded of his great legacy and the great thing he did with our leader, Mr Lingiari. That old maluka'—old man—'understood our important role in land rights. We will meet today to plan how we will mourn him.'

Of course, this is not the only thing he did in this space. As the member for Jagajaga said, he established the Aboriginal Land Fund and the Aboriginal Loans Commission. He passed legislation that abolished discriminatory treatment of Aborigines and overrode the discriminatory laws of the Bjelke-Peterson government. He passed the Racial Discrimination Act to ensure that Aboriginal people could not be discriminated against with regard to employment, pay or working conditions and to establish equal treatment before the law, access to housing and accommodation, and access to goods and services.

He amended the Migration Act. That should not be a surprise, but what did this do? Part of his amendment was to abolish the provision that existed when his government came to power that required Aboriginal people to apply for special permission to leave the country. He funded Aboriginal legal aid services for people and established the Aboriginal Legal Service. When he passed the Racial Discrimination Act, at its proclamation he said the following:

The main sufferers in Australian society, the main victims of social deprivation and restricted opportunity, have been the oldest Australians on the one hand and the newest Australians on the other. We stand in their debt. By this Act we shall be doing our best to redress past injustice and build a more just and tolerant future.

But he did not stop there. Importantly, he reformed the Australia Council, broadening ordinary Australians' access to arts funding which would have been largely the exclusive right of the wealthy and elite art groups. As part of this, he founded the Aboriginal Arts Board under its first chair, Wandjuk Marika from Yirrkala. This, in turn, enabled the flourishing of one of the great international arts movements in the last century, the Aboriginal artists of the Central Desert and Top End, and produced internationally recognised masters such as Clifford Possum and others. His great reform for local government meant that territory local governments received Commonwealth funding for the first time. He established the first Department of Aboriginal Affairs. He made such great change, for which we will be forever indebted.

Of course, he did so much more, and you have heard about it all this morning. He did some other very significant things for northern Australia. It was he who at Christmas in 1974 responded to Cyclone Tracy. It was he who appointed Major General Stretton with broad powers to safeguard and evacuate the people of Darwin. He put off a trip to Greece to make sure he could attend to these functions. He established the Darwin Reconstruction Commission under Clem Jones, the former 'can-do' Lord Mayor of Brisbane, to begin the reconstruction of Darwin, creating the modern city of Darwin today. Whitlam pledged a determined and unremitting effort to rebuild the city and relieve suffering, and he carried that out.

Others have spoken about other aspects of his life, but, as the member for Lingiari and, previously, the member for the Northern Territory, I feel it is incumbent upon me to talk about his contribution to Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Australians. What he did was put down a marker. What he did was change the way we relate to one another. What he did was forever change that relationship. It will not matter whatever others do or what others might want to do even in current times—the fact is those changes will last forever.

We can be proud of being members of this parliament, and we have spoken today about the nature of this place. We ought to be proud as parliamentarians of the work which has been done across the divide. The Aboriginal Land Rights Act was one such piece of work and we should be proud of the contribution that we have made and can continue to make by working collaboratively, in a bipartisan way, to support those interests into the future.

I extend my sympathies to Catherine, Nicholas, Tony and Stephen on behalf of myself, my family and the community of the Northern Territory.

In 2001, Gough came to Alice Springs to visit Yuendumu, which is 300 kays up the road—a dirt road and not a very pleasant trip. He was there to open an aged-care facility. I well remember that day with him and Margaret—Margaret with the stick, as the member for Sydney said, reminding Gough that it was time, and Gough knew. But he was so generous—ever so generous—to those people he worked with. It has been a great honour and privilege for me to be able to participate in this debate.

Philip Ruddock (Berowra, Liberal Party) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

It is a privilege for me to speak on this condolence motion, as one who had the opportunity to serve in the other place, the old Parliament House, with Gough Whitlam and to know Gough and Margaret and their family. In a sense, he was responsible for my political career—and you may not thank him for that! But in 1973, when I was first elected, it was in a by-election to succeed Nigel Bowen, who had been a candidate for leadership of the Liberal Party and lost to Billy Snedden. Gough, I think, wanted to ensure that I was elected. He deigned to determine the issue of a site for Sydney's second airport, and he told the electors of Parramatta that the nearby suburb of Galston, which is presently in my electorate of Berowra, would be the site for Sydney's second airport. I must say it gave me a great deal to campaign on, and I have always been grateful for Gough's support.

He was, equally, generous. I have not heard that word uttered today, I think, except once. He used to see me and my wife at social events from time to time. I think he used the word more often for her than me, but he would refer to me as 'comrade'. I think that meant that I had at least developed a useful working relationship with him. I saw a man tremendously committed to this nation and its future, and all that has been said of him I witnessed.

You might ask: how did events unfold as they did? I just want to reflect on this for a moment. He had been in parliament since 1952. He served for some 26 years. He saw a government that had been in office for some 23 years. You can imagine, when you had worked on policy over a period of time and wanted to implement it, that you would be in a hurry, and I think Gough Whitlam and his colleagues, after 23 years in opposition, were in a hurry—and I can understand it. But the consequences were that many of those matters that they wanted to address cost money, and it did have its impact. In the Parramatta by-election, the impact was real—higher levels of unemployment, high levels of inflation, significant borrowings. I do not cast blame. I can understand how it arose. But you can see, in context, why question marks were raised. I think the explanation is that he and his colleagues wanted to produce those changes—so many of which I strongly support today. I see much of that continuing.

Some mention has been made—and I acknowledge the member for Watson and the member for Grayndler for their observations—about cultural diversity. Not all understand that some 25 per cent of our population is overseas born, that we are a remarkable society. The fact that we can bring together people from so many different backgrounds and demonstrate to the rest of the world that people can live together—and it is not always perfect—is a great tribute to us. I think Gough Whitlam as Prime Minister understood that. I can remember well seeing him at events when I was a minister and more latterly, when he was well enough, amongst many of our culturally diverse communities—particularly the Serbian community, as I look at the member for Werriwa. The way in which he ensured that we saw all of them equally as Australians of whom we can be proud, for me, was particularly important. I think as a Prime Minister he understood that better than most.

I want to comment about his family. I had the opportunity of seeing Nick Whitlam only a few weeks ago. There was a function run in Sydney with the Chinese community, by the Xinhua News Agency, with photographs of Gough when he was in China after the recognition that occurred—and I think we should look at that event positively, because our engagement with China today, which is so important to this nation, was possible because of those early decisions taken by Prime Minister Whitlam. There was an acknowledgement amongst the Chinese people that were there—and Nick was there to hear it—of the continuing benefit that Australia has seen as a result of his family's contribution.

I want to conclude my remarks by speaking further about Gough's family. We often comment about public life and its impact upon politicians, and particularly upon children. I do not reflect on anybody when I say this. But I want to talk about the Whitlam family because I think they were part of the journey with Gough and Margaret. I think it was great, as was mentioned by the member for Grayndler, that Tony Whitlam was able to be a member of this parliament as the member for Grayndler, that he had the desire and aspiration to play a part in public life, having seen it from as close as he did. This is a family that has made an enormous contribution to this nation and its future. It is appropriate to acknowledge it. I had the opportunity of being at the funeral of Margaret in 2012 and speaking to Gough on that occasion. It is a journey that we have walked together. I am very proud to have known him and pleased to have this opportunity to be able to pass my thanks to him and his family for the enormous contribution they have made to Australia.

Wayne Swan (Lilley, Australian Labor Party) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

I rise today to offer my condolences to the Whitlam family but also to talk a little bit about an extraordinary contribution to our public life. A lot has been said today. This is one of the finest discussions that I have sat through in this parliament. I do not intend to go through the full list of policies, debates and events that are very pertinent to Gough's life, but I do want to focus on a couple of themes.

The first one is Gough's commitment to equality of opportunity, his absolute determination to ensure there was no discrimination on the grounds of race or gender or postcode. And that determination runs through all of his policies, particularly the policies put forward in health and education. Almost every one of us in this room today lives with the benefit of that determination. I agree with the member for Wentworth: today is a day for sadness, but it is also a day to celebrate—to celebrate an inspiring life of a person who showed us that political life can make a difference and that being a politician is an honourable profession. That is what is so good about today's debate.

We can all talk about what drew us into politics, but for me 1972 and 1974 were very important. The fourth of four boys in a family. Three of those boys, my older brothers, were not drafted. I was coming up in 1972. In our household there was a breath of relief when the government changed. This was a very dramatic event and debate, and our involvement in Vietnam is something that has reverberated through our country for years. But it was a very big change.

And, of course, in Australian politics there is now a dividing line. You can carbon date the dividing line at 1972: pre-Whitlam and post-Whitlam. The big debates that took place in the double dissolution elections of 1974 and 1975 are still with us today. In 1974 I joined the party that year in May because of the forthcoming double dissolution over Medicare, over our education proposals and other social security matters. My wife still has at home that T-shirt, that Gough Whitlam T-shirt that she and all of my children have proudly worn in election campaigns right through good seasons and bad seasons, once again an example of the dividing line—a dividing line that still exists today. We are still debating these principles of affordable health and education, how they shall be funded, how we deliver quality. I am not necessarily saying we always have the right answers on this side of the House, but I think we have been on the right side of history.

There is a theory about Australian politics. It is called 'initiative and resistance', and I think we have seen acknowledged today by some opposite that there was a lot of resistance going on then. Of course, that is why we had a double dissolution in 74 and again in 75—and we lost. We lost for a variety of complex reasons. The governments were not perfect, and neither was Gough, but the ideas were right. The ideas were timeless because they are based on that fundamental principle of equality of opportunity and people having the capacity to get ahead irrespective of their postcode or race or gender.

And, of course, this was always reflected in Gough's approach to foreign affairs. The drama, the daring, the political courage of the ALP executive just down the road in 1971, receiving an invite from the Communist Party of China to send a delegation to China at a time when Reds were under the bed everywhere. This was a very daring decision and, indeed, the day they took it, they moved from ALP headquarters to the Statesman Hotel at Curtin. The Labor greats were there with Gough—people like Mick Young, Tom Burns and many others. Of course, as they juggled this decision about whether they would go or not, they had quite a few beers over at the statesman, and it went on late into the night. But the decision was to do it and to go with Gough, and anyone who has been to China at any time knows the power of that image of us going to China before the Americans—getting there. It was so important for the future of our country.

That larger vision that a number of people have spoken about today from both sides of the House, the optimism that it reflects. If we learn one thing from the passing of Gough Whitlam, it is that political leadership needs to inspire, that political leadership needs to be larger than just party politics and, if we are not living up to those objectives, to try harder and be more thoughtful. That is the inspiration of Gough Whitlam, and with his passing many of us will still hear in our mind that distinctive voice urging us to go on and do better because our country deserves it.

Bob Katter (Kennedy, Independent) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

Two of the previous speakers referred to the fact that a lot of us are here today because of Whitlam, and I most certainly fall into that category. I had very little interest in politics—I asked to stand down from the local branch of the party—but when he got in I suddenly became very, very interested and involved. When a funny-looking old fellow with an unpronounceable name started to make him bleed, I actually decided to get very seriously involved. I can remember vividly the state leader in Queensland—the honourable member for Petrie would remember Ed Casey from Mackay. There were 1 speakers in the state house. Every single speech was spent entirely condemning Gough Whitlam. I was the last of those speakers. Ed Casey got up and he said, 'There is just simply no gratitude in this world.' It was true. The vast bulk of the members of parliament in that parliament were there only because of Gough Whitlam. I think to some degree it was a Queensland phenomenon. There has been a lot made today about what he did for education. But the world changed. Every single person here said that the world changed as a result of him.

I had very great honour of publishing a best-selling history book. I start the era of Gough Whitlam by quote from a Midwestern businessmen, probably a bit of a Labor sort of bloke, and he said, 'The trouble was that we are in the 25th year of the Whitlam era.' He said that in 1996 or whatever it was, 25 years after Gough had come in.

So there was one thing that every person in this House agrees on: the world was different. There were three great differences. One was education—free education. As a Queenslander I just did not see where the benefit was. We could go and work in the mines during the four-month break from university and make enough money to pay our way through university for the next year. Anyone could do that. So it wasn't a very wonderful thing for us.

The second was the free hospital system, which was great for the rest of Australia, but it brought nothing to Queensland. We already had a free hospital system. In fact, we went backwards a little tiny bit with the Hayden initiative. The third area was social welfare. I think if ever there was a great monument and legacy to Whitlam it was just the complete and utter change in the approach to old people. There was an increase from $1,500 million a year to $5,000 million. It was an attitude of, 'These people are not able to look after themselves and we have a responsibility to look after them.' I think if ever there was a legacy that was left behind it lay in that figure on social welfare.

In Indigenous affairs there was $29 million spent the year before he came in and there was $186 million spent in the year he left. So, again, in that area, there was an attitudinal change that there were people out there that needed to be looked after, and he was determined that he would look after them. In Queensland equal pay—I think it was a good decision—but it resulted in the First Australians losing their jobs. So Queensland did not have a perspective that this was a wonderful move forward for the First Australians. In fact, probably a counter attitude prevailed.

If you are saying, 'Was he a good man or not?' when I was writing the history book was quite amazed to find out that Gough Whitlam had not only put Rex Connor into the ministry but was a very, very fervent backer of Rex Connor. Rex Connor want to develop Australia. He was very much in the Queensland mould of development. It was the government's job to develop and create jobs. He wanted to raise the money so we could do it ourselves. The Murdoch press that had backed Gough Whitlam very, very strongly were involved in the North West Shelf gas and oil developments. It was held up by Rex Connor because Rex did not want to see a foreigner develop those resources; he wanted Australian money to come in and develop the resources. The irony of it all was that if the Treasurer, Mr Cairns, had been spending more time on Treasury than on other affairs, there were the two instruments are there that were put there by McEwan—and they were put there for exactly that purpose: to buy back the farm and to develop the farm. The Commonwealth development bank and the AIDC. The two mechanisms were there. The great tragedy and irony—for those that were not great supporters of Whitlam I suppose it was a good thing to happen—was that Rex Connor was left trying to get money from overseas in a most improper manner. Gough Whitlam was characterised by very great honesty. Having seen many, many governments where corporate influence has played a very large part in the government of Australia and the government of the states, it was a government that was very clean of that sort of influence. But, of course, Whitlam suffered as a result of that insofar as very powerful media barons turned up on him with very great aggression.

The sympathy of the Australian people to some degree would have been far greater behind him—particularly in states like Queensland—if Rex Connor had been backed up. Of course, he was not. The Treasurer had his mind on other things. The tragedy that occurred—if it was a tragedy—was that Connor and the great vision that he had that Gough Whitlam shared never came to fruition and the resources of Australia were developed by foreign corporations.

But it has got to be said that for people like myself, the 25 per cent across-the-board cut in tariffs was the introduction of a new era in Australian history. It was not an era that a person like me would regard as a great era for that introduction in Australian history.

As everyone has said today, it is the start of a new period in Australian history. There is no doubt that anyone in Australia that would contend or question that. Whether the things that happened were good for Australia, again history can judge in the longer term what were the reasons. But all I can say is that I came out of a state where the things I think that were very important to a person living in Sydney had absolutely no resonance in a state with massive development taking place—with dams being built everywhere, with the coal industry and the aluminium industry being opened up by government money and government activity. It just never resonated. When he came in the wool industry—the great industry that carried Australia for as long as it did—had collapsed and then the beef industry collapsed. There was no sympathy coming out of Sydney for those industries. There was a very great vigorous and angry reaction that there was no sympathy coming.

So there was a combination of those factors. But I think one of the very little known factors was that there was great support for Rex Connor and a place in history that Rex deserved. But, because he failed, he was punished and the history books read badly. Whereas the history books in the longer term will read very, very positively in an area that Gough Whitlam was never given any credit for and where he probably deserved most credit.

Adam Bandt (Melbourne, Australian Greens) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

When I started primary school, one of the few things I knew was that John Kerr was not a very nice fellow. I could not have picked him out of a line-up, but I knew that in my house he was a person who had done a bad thing to a very good man. My early political education largely consisted of watching my father shout at the television, worried that the dreams of a generation were being dashed. My dad earlier today, as someone who was the son of a post office worker, told me that he had never dreamed that he would complete a university degree and go on to complete more than one and that the only reason he could do it was because of Gough.

I have already heard from many people today who have shed a tear because they were politicised by Gough, because their lives were made better by Gough Whitlam and, for those who have come much later, who know that as progressive Australians they are now following in his footsteps. In many ways he was the author of progressive Australia: he put this country on the global map in a way that we had not been before, and his commitments to social justice, education and the arts are of course legendary; he helped improve Australia's humanitarian and cultural standing in the world by ratifying the human rights convention as well as the World Heritage Convention, something that has laid the groundwork for significant expansions and environmental protections in times to come. But he was also a champion for the environment, establishing the National Parks and Wildlife Service as well as protecting the Great Barrier Reef. He ended conscription, oversaw the end of our involvement in the war, oriented us towards China, helped establish the Department of Aboriginal Affairs and was instrumental in the creation of land rights.

But it is the commitment to free education that will have a lasting impact on not only our society but also our economy. I still believe in many of Gough Whitlam's values, and I believe that they should be at the heart of our political system. I think equality and a progressive Australia should become the cornerstones of our debate. I understand I am not the only one; I understand, via Twitter, that today some students at La Trobe University are staging a 'lock on for Gough' in support of free education on their campus.

I think there has been, as has been mentioned, at times certain mythologies about the government. One of those mythologies about that time is that he was an extraordinarily big spender. I was reminded this morning that at the end of the Whitlam government, they were spending less than we are currently doing now and many governments since have done. Truly, it was a reminder that it is not necessarily how much you raise but what you do with it, and it can change a country. In the decades intervening, I think it is fair to say that politics has become smaller even if government has not. Rest in peace, Gough Whitlam. On behalf of the Australian Greens, I send our deepest thoughts, sympathies and thanks to the Whitlam family and to all those who knew and loved him.

Mrs Bronwyn Bishop (Speaker) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

I thank those members who have spoken for their generous and gracious eulogies and I ask, as a mark of respect for the memory of the late Hon. Edward Gough Whitlam, that honourable members rise in their places.

Honourable members having stood in their places—

Christopher Pyne (Sturt, Liberal Party, Minister for Education) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

by leave—I move:

That so much of the standing and sessional orders be suspended as would prevent further debate on the motion moved by the Prime Minister in connection with the death of the Hon. Edward Gough Whitlam from taking place in the Chamber between 9 am and 10 am on Monday, 27 October 2014 and between 9 am and 12 noon on Tuesday, 28 October 2014, with any divisions called in that time, other than on a motion moved by a Minister, being deferred to government business time after ministerial statements and, if any Member draws attention of the Speaker to the state of the House during this time, the Speaker shall announce that he or she will count the House at 12 noon, if the Member so desires.

Question agreed to.

As a mark of respect to the memory of the late the Hon. Edward Gough Whitlam, I move:

That the House do now adjourn.

House adjourned at 14 : 43