Jane Hume (Victoria, Liberal Party, Shadow Minister for the Public Service) Share this | Hansard source

I rise to lend my voice to the Senate's sympathy on the passing of Queen Elizabeth II. My first experience with Her Majesty the Queen was also in March 1977, when my grade 1 teacher asked our class, all sitting cross-legged in front of her, whether any of us knew who the special visitor coming to Australia this month was. I put my hand up because I knew, and I was joyful with the fact that I knew. Brian Naylor had said it on the news the night before. The teacher called on me and said, 'Yes, Jane. Do you know the answer?' I said, 'Yes. It's ABBA.' It was true, in fact; their tours did coincide. But perhaps as a six-year-old I was not quite as appreciative of the tireless work of the monarch as I am today.

Nonetheless, the next day I enthusiastically took my place along the nature strip of Dandenong Road in the blazing sunshine with thousands of other school children to greet Her Majesty as she drove by. It wasn't until 2011, however, that I was honoured to meet the Queen in person. I was, at that stage, serving on the board of Melbourne's iconic Royal Children's Hospital. As part of what ended up being her final visit to Melbourne, she and Prince Philip joined us in opening the newly redeveloped facilities. They arrived, they toured the wards, they unveiled a plaque. They did all the right things, everything that was expected of them, with smiles and with grace. It's an image that we've seen on television so many times in the last couple of weeks. But, being there that day, I could see that while all of those duties were done with smiles and grace, and while they were led around by very well-briefed and well-practised board members and executives, more than anything both Queen Elizabeth and Prince Philip wanted to meet the doctors, the nurses and the patients of the hospital. They met them with an interest that was genuine and heartfelt. It is often difficult to recognise who was more thrilled: the person who was meeting the Queen or the Queen in meeting them. Those who met her on her many visits would tell you of a truly kind person who would take a sincere interest, regardless of the cause—although I do think that perhaps this was particularly true for her patronage of the Australian Racing Museum in Caulfield, just around the corner. The Queen's public service was not in any way or in any sense performative. It was truly authentic. How lucky we were to have a woman of such optimism, resilience and hope to be our Queen, someone who shared in the hopes and aspirations of ourselves and our country.

Not even the most self-confident person in this chamber could commit, however lightly, to a promise of self-sacrifice for 70 years. That's an awful lot of elections and preselections. But the Queen kept that promise, a promise that no politician would ever dare make, and, despite it all, she did it and delivered in spades.

In Australia, under our constitutional monarchy, we have been gifted a head of state who is above personal ambition, above personal politics and above self-interest. But in Queen Elizabeth we were also gifted a head of state that was never above the people. We saw that every time she visited and returned the respect and warmth of those who met her. Through changes to our lives and our society—the good and the bad, governments of both sides, passing trends and revolutions—the Queen stood still. She was a point to which we could look no matter how far we had moved, no matter how greatly we were shaken. We could look to her and see certainty. And she looked to us and had faith and a warm belief in our strength and that of our country. She had the ability to see us, with the understanding of resilience and of the limitless ability of each generation to overcome its own challenges and to endure and to build for the future—certain, but not forever.

In her last visit to Australia the Queen reflected:

We are all visitors to this time, this place. We are just passing through. Our purpose here is to observe, to learn, to grow, to love ... and then we return home.

In this time, we have been given a new head of state. King Charles III will provide a uniquely Australian perspective as the King of Australia. No other sovereign has the connection to our country or a personal appreciation of its idiosyncrasies.

As some have reflected, his formative time in regional Victoria, particularly at Timbertop in the community of Mansfield, was entirely without ceremony. If my very strict Acting Deputy President Fawcett will allow me a little bit of unparliamentary language, he was described by a classmate as 'no bullshit'. I suspect a person who could see what life would ask of him—that daunting promise of public service—found some freedom in that very simple life for a period of time. His time with us as he became a young man will give him a very deep insight into our national character. His own mother's public service will give him an appreciation of why we have such enormous respect for his role. He will serve us with the same sense of duty. He will be beyond self-interest and beyond politics, but not beyond us.

Like our Queen, King Charles will share in Australia's hopes and aspirations, with an unwavering belief in us and in our country. Long live the King!