John Faulkner (NSW, Australian Labor Party) Share this | Hansard source

Let me begin by thanking the Leader of the Opposition in the Senate and my colleagues in this chamber for giving me the great honour of supporting this condolence motion on behalf of the opposition. We are all here today to honour the memory, celebrate the achievements and mourn the loss of a giant on the Australian political stage—a giant both metaphorically and literally. For Australians, he was the Prime Minister who inspired and transformed the nation. For the Labor Party, he was the leader who reformed and modernised our party, encouraged and energised the faithful, and delivered both election victories and sweeping progressive reforms. For me, he was, first, an inspiration, then a mentor and, finally, a friend. For me, his death is a personal loss.

Despite Gough's great age—remember, he was born during the First World War, fought in combat in the second and was first elected to parliament more than sixty years ago—he seemed, as he himself said once, if not actually immortal then at least eternal. As we have heard, his lifetime overlapped that of every Australian Prime Minister.

Gough did not depart politics in 1978 when he departed this parliament. If anything, he was more influential by way of example and encouragement. He was living evidence that being involved could make a difference. For a generation, Gough was the elder statesman of our nation—tirelessly and enthusiastically working for the great causes he set out in that famous 1972 campaign launch speech: 'to promote equality, to involve the people of Australia in the decision-making processes of our land, and to liberate the talents and uplift the horizons of the Australian people'. Gough's advocacy ended only last Tuesday.

But in the last week, as our nation remembers and mourns him, we have once again seen the old photographs and newsreels that remind us of a younger Gough Whitlam, of the schoolboy who in 1932, as he reminded me again just last year, won every 5th year subject prize at Canberra grammar—except the divinity prize, even though he topped the examination. The prize went to second-place getter Francis James, later a very prominent Anglican publisher. Why? The headmaster, WJ Edwards, informed Gough: 'The reason, Whitlam, is that James actually believes it and you, Whitlam, do not.' Gough may not have believed, but he kept an open mind. Many years later, asked what he would do if he discovered, after death, that there was indeed a god, he assured the questioner that there was no need to worry—he would be generous enough to treat the Almighty as an equal.

We have been reminded, too, of the young bridegroom, arm-in-arm with his new wife, Margaret, who would be for the rest of her life his partner, his companion, his support and, when called for, his critic. She shared his pre-selection battles, his campaigns and his causes, through both good times and bad. She raised their children, often in solitude while Gough attended to public duties elsewhere. Margaret was always at Gough's side; she was never in his shadow. She accomplished an extraordinary balancing act as a private citizen in a very public role, and did so with such good humour and graciousness that she earned an enduring place in the hearts of the nation. They were married for nearly 70 years. They were, in every respect, partners and equals.

And we have been reminded of the young airman, serving on Lockheed Ventura bombers flying out of the Northern Territory, defending our shores at the time of Australia's greatest peril. It later gave Gough great pleasure to say that the first Whitlam ministry—the duumvirate, as he liked to call it, just Lance Barnard and himself—was the only federal ministry to be comprised entirely of war veterans.

Gough's political engagement began during his wartime service. He was eager to see Curtin's Labor government granted wider postwar reconstruction powers. He believed in the principle that significant and permanent improvements can be secured for the Australian people through legislative and constitutional reform. He campaigned for Curtin within his RAAF squadron during the 'Fourteen Powers' referendum of 1944. Gough carried the squadron. Curtin, alas, was not so fortunate. But it was that campaign and that defeat that galvanised Gough into becoming not only a supporter but a champion of Labor's cause.

In late 1952, he stood for and was elected in a by-election in the federal seat of Werriwa. He served 20 years in opposition. Opposition is never easy. It is a hard slog. It can be demoralising, dispiriting and disillusioning. But Gough, who could have so easily chosen an easier life, a better paid career, one without the arduousness of travel, without the constant branch meetings and party functions at night and on the weekend, stuck it out. He distinguished himself as a parliamentarian, serving on committees, using his quick wit and sharp tongue to memorable effect in both speeches and interjections. There was no-one more feared or more effective at the dispatch box. The Hansard index records his astounding industry, speaking more and asking more questions, with or without notice, on a far wider range of subjects than any member in the history of the House of Representatives.

And he distinguished himself as a Labor member, setting about modernising, reforming and making the Australian Labor Party electable once more. He took on vested interests within his party and set about changing a culture comfortable with defeat. Gough became Deputy Leader and then Leader of a Labor Party still struggling with the scars of the split. He fought in every party forum to resolve those longstanding problems—corruption in the New South Wales branch, ideological rigidity in Victoria. The public saw the flashes of brilliance, the breathtaking moments of brinkmanship, but not the many patient hours of negotiation.

Ultimately, the reforms that Whitlam fought for brought the ALP into line with community expectations, just as his policy reforms brought it into line with Australia's expectations for government. He made the ALP electable. But, more importantly, he made the ALP worth electing—and he took risks to do so. In early 1966, with one eye on the leadership, Gough broke with the party on the issue of public funding for non-government schools. At the ALP federal executive, Gough's enemies used the opportunity to seek his expulsion from the party and destroy him once and for all. Gough took them on. He said, 'I can only say we've just got rid of the 36 faceless men stigma to be faced with the 12 witless men.'

While his enemies rounded on him, Gough flew to Mackay. He campaigned hard in the Dawson by-election with Rex Patterson, and the ALP won that by-election unexpectedly on 26 February, dealing the government its first by-election defeat since 1952. Everyone knew that this was Gough's victory. Gough was summoned to Canberra for his political execution at an emergency meeting of the federal executive in Canberra on 3 March. He beat the charge of 'gross disloyalty' by a margin of two votes, after a switch by the two Queensland delegates in the afterglow of the Dawson triumph.

In 1969, by then Leader, Whitlam took the ALP to the cusp of a famous victory. Labor won the majority of the vote and 18 additional seats, but the conservatives held on. The Labor vote in 1969 remains the greatest swing achieved by an opposition in Australian federal politics.

By 1972, Whitlam's and the ALP's time had come. In 1972 a simple slogan encapsulated the country's readiness for change: 'It's Time'. It was time. The list of the Whitlam government's legislative reforms is familiar to us all: replacing Australia's adversarial divorce laws with a new, no-fault system; introducing Australia's first federal legislation on human rights, the environment and heritage; establishing the Legal Aid Office, the National Film and Television School, the Australian Development Assistance Agency, the Prices Justification Tribunal and the Trade Practices Commission; introducing sweeping electoral reforms—the vote for 18-year-olds, Senate representation for the territories, and the cause of a lifetime, `one vote, one value'; establishing the Australian National Parks and Wildlife Service, the Law Reform Commission, the Australian Film Commission, the Australian Heritage Commission, the Technical and Further Education Commission, a national employment and training program; launching construction of the National Gallery of Australia and making the Australia Council a statutory authority; vigorously promoting the arts, including the then controversial purchase of Blue Poles; improving the position of women and our Indigenous population through reforms such as laws banning discrimination of the grounds of race and sex, equal pay for women in the Public Service and the creation of a separate ministry responsible for Aboriginal affairs and instituting Indigenous land rights; ending the last legal vestiges of White Australia;    creating a single Department of Defence rather than separate departments for Army, Navy and Air; establishing the Royal Commission on Human Relationships; slashing tariff barriers by 25 per cent; ending conscription; establishing Medibank, the precursor to Medicare; implementing education reforms like needs based funding for schools and free vocational and university education, and introducing the Tertiary Education Assistance Scheme; changing the national anthem to Advance Australia Fair; replacing the British Honours system with the Order of Australia; abolishing appeals to the Privy Council; replacing the Postmaster-General's Department with Telecom and Australia Post; and foreign policy achievements such as diplomatic and trade relations with the Peoples Republic of China.

Medibank and fair electoral boundaries were rejected by the Senate twice, to become matters resolved by a double dissolution—or so we thought. The measures were again rejected by the Senate, went before a joint sitting and were passed. Gough was, if nothing else, determined.

Gough commissioned inquiries that changed the landscape of politics. He did not create an inquiry to put a problem off. For Gough, an inquiry was intended to focus on problems, identify inequality and poor administration, and return to the government with solutions. Contemporary Australia benefits from the Henderson inquiry into poverty, Borrie on population, Karmel on private schools funding and Martin on teacher education. The policies he embodied and enacted looked outward to the world and forward to an Australia where all citizens had the opportunity to realise their ambitions and make good on their potential, an Australia where the government accepted responsibility for the commonwealth and the commonweal of our citizens.

Those policies were bitterly resisted by his conservative opponents. Blatant disregard for the conventions of casual vacancies saw conservative Premiers turn a closely balanced Senate into a hostile one. Supply was blocked in the Senate. On 11 November 1975, the Whitlam government was dismissed. The elected Prime Minister of our nation had been deceived and then ambushed by the Governor-General he appointed. In the ensuing election, the Labor Party was routed.

The manner of the government's demise, and the outrage it inspired in so many Australians, has from time to time obscured that government's achievements. Gough rejected the idea that his government and his life could or should be viewed through the prism of the dismissal or the brilliant and memorable extemporaneous speech he made on the steps of Old Parliament House that day. He rejected the label 'martyr'; he preferred 'achiever'.

I know that not all in this chamber regard the Whitlam government's program fondly. At the time, there was unrelenting opposition to so many of the government's reforms. Many today remain opposed to the spirit and substance of the Whitlam agenda. I do hope, however, that everyone here and everyone in politics can respect and admire Gough's example—to always try, to learn about issues and develop an opinion, to get involved and to stay involved, to work out how you think Australia can be made better and to bend every energy to that end.

After a second crushing election defeat in 1977, when others might have become discouraged or disillusioned or have simply felt they had given enough of themselves, their time and their energy, Gough remained indefatigable, irrepressible and unflagging. His desire to serve his country and his community was genuine and deeply, deeply held. His gifts of character and intellect would have, I believe, ensured his success in any age, in any field. But he was emblematic of his age and of his chosen cause.

For young people at the end of the 1960s, Gough Whitlam embodied a modem Australia. Although already in his 50s when he became Labor leader in 1967, he seemed young, especially in comparison to the leaders of the conservative parties. The strength of his character has perpetuated the myth that he won his victories purely through his famous 'crash through or crash' approach, that it was bravado rather than deftness and tenacity that won the day. But this conceals a more complex truth: Gough's success was as much determination, dedication, and persuasion as it was breathtaking brinkmanship and dazzling public performances.

For more than six decades in politics and public life, Gough aimed at targets higher than personal success or vindication. His energy and enthusiasm, combined with the powerful relevance of his goals, have made him a hero to a great many Australians. When I interviewed Gough in 2002 for the documentary Gough Whitlam: in his own words, he spoke for many hours during the filming about his life, his career, his goals and his hopes for Australia. One thing that he kept returning to, time and again, was his belief that politics is an honourable profession. He said this to me:

Politics is a very honourable profession and ... anybody who's interested in improving matters which are determined by the Constitution or by acts of parliament should join the Labor Party or the Liberal Party and try to do something about it. Because, as far ahead as we can see, the Prime Minister of Australia will be a Labor man or a Liberal man, or woman; but otherwise you're just treading water or spouting into thin air if you say that you can change things other than by supporting the Labor or the Liberal Party.

Gough chose Labor. He did not do it to make himself wealthy. As a successful young barrister, he had far better prospects for financial success out of the parliament. For Gough, politics was a cause, not a career choice.

Gough chose Labor as the party that best represented his belief in the reforming power of government, in the power of government to transform people's lives for the better. He chose Labor because Australia's political life, for more than a century, has been defined by Labor's battle against the conservative forces of this country. He remained a lifelong member. In fact, along with Margaret, he became Labor's first national life member. He did this in the unshaken belief that Labor was then, and remains today, the most powerful and pervasive force for progressive change in the nation.

No-one would disagree that Gough was an ambitious man. He pursued leadership; he pursued power; he pursued electoral victory. But ambition is not a vice if it is ambition for a worthy end. Gough's ambitions were, in equal measure, personal and national. He was ambitious for Australia—for a nation at ease with itself and the world, confident, progressive, for a land with an uplifted gaze towards our wide horizons. He was ambitious for the Labor Party because he believed that the ALP was the political party best suited to bring about that Australia. He was ambitious for himself because he believed that, of all the members of caucus, he was best suited to lead the ALP to the federal victory necessary for those necessary reforms.

And yes, in the struggle to see his vision become reality Gough made mistakes—some on a grand scale. Gough did not suffer fools kindly—in my experience he did not suffer them at all—and the bravado of opposition did not always suit the demands of government. And yet his desire to serve his country and his community was genuine and deeply, deeply held. One of his most memorable and famous remarks was made in rebuke to those in the ALP who preferred the purity of principle even when it guaranteed perpetual powerlessness. 'Certainly,' he told the Left at Labor's Victorian state conference in 1967, 'the impotent are pure.'

Gough never claimed to be pure. He was certainly not burdened with false modesty. In fact, after Labor's thumping in the Parramatta by-election in 1973, the party's then federal secretary, David Combe, and Eric Walsh from Gough's staff briefed the leader on Labor's parlous electoral standing. David Combe said to Gough, 'It's not as though we don't think that you are the best thing the government's got going for it.' Gough wheeled around. 'Comrade, you've got it almost right. I'm the only thing the government's got going for it.' Then, questioned in a press conference in October 1974 about how indispensable he might be, he said, 'I believe that I have the greatest amount of talent at the present time. This is unquestionably the opinion of my colleagues, and this is not an issue on which I feel disposed to differ from them.'

The truth is Gough refused to be cowed or diminished by the criticism of those who sought any excuse to attack the man who brought much needed change—change long overdue but bitterly resisted. His public service was to continue after parliament. He was a visiting fellow and visiting professor at several universities. In 1983 he was appointed as Australia's Ambassador to UNESCO and in 1989 he chaired the General Assembly of the World Heritage Convention. He campaigned passionately for the republic alongside his old foe and later friend, Malcolm Fraser, during the 1999 referendum. And in 2008, aged 92, Gough, the early prime ministerial champion of land rights in this country, the man who decades earlier had placed earth in Vincent Lingiari's outstretched hand, returned to this parliament to witness Prime Minister Kevin Rudd's apology to the stolen generation.

Let me again remind the Senate that in 1997, aged 80, Gough Whitlam published Abiding Interests. In the foreword he notes:

If I begin this book with a short review of the dismissal of my Government, it is to emphasise that my abiding interests for Australia did not end with it. They shall only end with a long and fortunate life.

Gough Whitlam's long and fortunate life has ended, but his legacy lives on. It was Ben Chifley who evoked the light on the hill to inspire the labour movement, but it was Gough Whitlam who set aflame the light on the hill for a new generation of Labor supporters. Gough's vision of a fairer, more decent and more open Australia remains a guiding light for the Australian Labor Party, an inspiration for those Australians who seek reform for the many and not just the few, and a reminder to all of us of the tremendous potential for positive change the power of government brings with it.

At this time I would like to acknowledge the Director and staff of the Whitlam Institute at the University of Western Sydney for their support of Gough and his life's work and causes; and also the staff who have worked in Gough's Sydney office over many years. I had the privilege of opening Gough's new office on the 14th floor of 100 William Street in Sydney some years ago. That office was to continue as a centre of enthusiastic public policy and spirited political engagement almost until the very end.

I also know that in the assisted care facility where he resided at the end of his life, Gough bore his waning powers remarkably well. He never complained or indulged in self-pity, whilst being exceptionally courteous to all. He maintained a lively interest in things about him. In this final period he was indeed a gracious, genial and wise old man.

As we remember with gratitude this very public figure, let us also remember that Gough was, as well as a great Labor leader, a father, a grandfather and a brother, and that there are those whose loss today is deeply personal. Our sympathies are with his family.

He was a great Australian, in every way. I have known none greater. I will always remember, and always strive to emulate, his unflagging, tireless commitment to the causes and the values which we shared. I know I will never cease to miss his advice, his company and his friendship.