Sue Lines (President) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

It is with deep regret that I inform the Senate of the death on 4 May 2023 of Bruce Kenneth Childs, a senator for the state of New South Wales from 1981 to 1997.

Tim Ayres (NSW, Australian Labor Party, Assistant Minister for Trade) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

by leave—I move:

That the Senate records its sorrow at the death, on 4 May 2023, of Bruce Kenneth Childs, former senator for New South Wales, places on record its gratitude for his service to the Parliament and the nation and tenders its sympathy to his family in their bereavement.

Bruce Childs was a giant of the labour movement and of the left, a prominent trade unionist, a senator and a lifelong advocate for equality, peace and social justice. On a personal note, he was a friend, a comrade and a mentor to many in the labour movement, including me. It was with deep regret that I couldn't attend his funeral service, which took place late last week in Sydney, because I was overseas on government business.

My colleague education minister Tanya Plibersek, who I think will join us in the chamber today, worked for Bruce in her early 20s. She was right to say last week:

He was defined by his thoughtfulness, kindness, strategic brain and inexhaustible patience.

Theirs was a special relationship. Bruce saw the qualities in young Tanya that we all see in contemporary Tanya. Like with many other young people, he took the time to mentor her, foster her talent and promote her. He was a rarity inside the Australian parliament and outside these walls: someone who was respected by all sides of Australian politics. He was known for his kindness and even temperament and as a deeply principled person. I'm sincerely thankful to Steve Childs, Tanya Plibersek and former senator John Faulkner, whose speeches at Bruce's service last Friday I have borrowed heavily from.

Bruce was born in Mascot in 1934, was raised by his parents, Ern and Millie Childs, and was the eldest of two children. Ern worked as a carriage-maker and, like many, lost his job when the Great Depression hit. He later retrained as a baker. Before Bruce was born, Millie worked at the WD & HO Wills tobacco factory. Around the time Bruce was a toddler, the family moved to what his children described as a rundown World War I soldiers home in Earlwood. It would become their family home for decades to come. As a young child, his interest in politics is said to have been sparked by listening to then Prime Minister Ben Chifley, Eddie Ward and Doc Evatt on radio in his home. At that point, his personal and political life intensified and became interconnected.

Upon leaving school he took up an apprenticeship in etching at the age of 16—and so began a Labor life, from the shop floor to the Australian Senate. He went on to work in the printing industry for many years, including at Fairfax newspapers. And, of course, his first task, when he went to work for Fairfax newspapers, was to join the Amalgamated Printing Trades Employees Union of Australia. Two years into the job, he was what was then known in the union as 'Father of the Chapel'—the senior representative of the unions at the Fairfax workplace. Bruce would joke that, being Father of the Chapel at the age of 18, most of the people he represented were old enough to be his father or indeed his grandfather. At the ripe age of 18, he led his first strike.

His ascension to the top ranks of the union movement was swift. By 19 he was a member of his union's board of management, by 23 he had become a full-time organiser of the union and by 29 he was elected the federal assistant secretary of the APTEUA. By 30 he was the union state secretary in New South Wales—an extraordinary trajectory of union leadership for someone so young, in a union that at that time valued structure and seniority in terms of its political processes. Printers, compositors and etchers were artisans as well as tradespeople. The printer's union at the time was a gentleman's union—very courteous and very thoughtful. Members were often found in three-piece suits, right through until the 1980s and 1990s. By the mid-1960s it was clear to Bruce and another union leaders that the amalgamation of the two printing unions, despite their previous bitter rivalry, made sense and was in the best interests of the members and the labour movement more broadly. Bruce was a skilful negotiator of the amalgamation agreement reached in 1966 to form the Printing and Kindred Industries Union. The amalgamation was a success. The PKIU would go on to become the printing section of the Australian Manufacturing Workers Union—my old union, in fact.

His election as assistant general secretary of the Labor Party was a seminal moment in his career and in New South Wales Labor history. It was a tough race, which Bruce won by a mere 19 votes. It was the first salaried position for a left-winger in the New South Wales branch's history. This marked the start of power sharing in the Labor Party, after the bitter decades through the 1950s, and an intimidating start to his political career. The snubs and slights he endured in Sussex Street are well documented. What I think is remarkable is not the cold shoulders that he was often dealt but the way in which he confronted them with bravery, stoicism and the courage of his convictions—and with calmness, not hyperfactionalism.

Bruce Childs, in his period in office in the New South Wales branch of the Labor Party, laid the foundations for future Labor victories. Including all perspectives in the Labor Party and the labour movement has made us stronger, more effective campaigners and kept the New South Wales branch of the Labor Party focused on the broad interests of the labour movement and indeed the country. In doing so he paved the way for others who served in that role, including John Faulkner and now Prime Minister Albanese.

Placed second on Labor's New South Wales Senate ticket at the election in October 1980, Bruce was elected as a New South Wales senator. He took his seat, after a long wait, in July 1981. He was re-elected five times as a senator before retiring in 1997. Within two years of his election to the Senate, Bruce held the position of national Left convener, a role which he would hold for much of his time in parliament and for the entire duration of the Hawke and Keating governments. This speaks to his expert ability to negotiate and to put forward the case for the progressive movement more broadly at times that weren't always politically convenient.

As Faulkner noted in his contribution, both inside and outside the Australian parliament Bruce was a lifelong advocate in the peace movement. He opposed the use of atomic weapons and was a driving force behind the national and international peace movements from the 1950s all the way to the early 2000s. He was the dedicated convener of the Nuclear Disarmament Co-ordinating Committee. He was a key in Sydney to the success of the Palm Sunday Sydney peace rallies, which still occur every year in no small part due to Bruce's contribution. In 1986 he challenged the Hawke government's decision to export uranium to France, breaking from party ranks. In 1991 he abstained from a Senate vote endorsing Australian involvement in the Gulf War—in fact, he was censured by Labor's national executive.

His contribution to the peace movement cannot be overstated. Bruce was unwavering in his commitment to peace, social justice, equality, human rights and democracy. I worked closely with Bruce in the movement to oppose the decision of the Howard government to commit troops to Iraq. Leading that rally and the organisation of that movement was a diverse group of unions, churches, health groups, diverse ethnic community groups and some very disparate political outlooks—Trotskyites and all sorts of characters—and Bruce showed much more patience than what could be reasonably expected from any other person. I learnt many things from former senator Bruce Childs, and that patience was not one of them. It was a remarkable effort. It meant that 250,000 people were on the streets in one of the most important displays of civic action and determination. It is in fact a pity that the Howard government didn't pay much more attention to that enormous movement of Australian people for peace.

He took that passion for political activism into his post-parliamentary life in his role in the Evatt Foundation. As President of the Evatt Foundation for eight years, he continued the legacy of Doc Evatt, the man he listened to as a little boy on the radio at night in the home in Earlwood. That was no doubt in between the races in Perth, boxing matches and everything else that was on the radio in those days. Bruce would often talk about how closely he listened to parliamentary debates.

Bruce Childs was married three times. The first time was to Winifred, known to all of us as Win, with whom he had his son, Steve, and his daughter, Bet. He also has two grandchildren, Michael and Anna. He then married Judy Larkin. After Judy's death he wed Yola Lucire. When his health deteriorated in his last years he stayed home in Yola's care. Yola and Bruce shared many years of love and happiness together. The last six years of Bruce's illness and care were the greatest act of love from Yola. When I visited, Bruce would be propped up on his bed, which was relocated into their light-filled ground-floor lounge room, looking as happy as Larry. Day after day, week after week, month after month, year after year Yola's care for Bruce was a testament to their love and to her decency. Despite the cruel ravages of disease, Bruce never lost his essence: his kindness, his decency and his gentleness.

It is the passing of an era. Bruce Childs, Tom Uren and Arthur Geitzelt were lions of the New South Wales Left, of the Labor Party, of the labour movement and of the Australian parliament. They all made a massive contribution to the building of modern Australia, and I and my colleagues deeply regret Bruce's passing.

Michaelia Cash (WA, Liberal Party, Shadow Minister for Employment and Workplace Relations) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

I rise on behalf of the opposition to honour the life of Bruce Kenneth Childs. Bruce Childs, born to Frederick and Elizabeth Childs in Mascot, Sydney, went to local public schools before attending Sydney Technical High School. Upon leaving school, Bruce began learning the trade of etching as a printing apprentice and developed a love of politics, listening to the broadcasting of parliament over the radio. He named a few of his heroes as Ben Chifley, Dr Bert Evatt and Eddie Ward.

It was also during his time as an apprentice that Bruce would become involved with the printing trades union and, at the age of 17, be invited to be an observer to the union's board of management. By age 19, Bruce had joined the Australian Labor Party, led his first strike and been elected to the board of management for his trade. In 1955, he married Winifred Bradley and together they had two children. After completing his apprenticeship, Bruce worked for Fairfax newspapers and settled in Ultimo. Win and Bruce divorced in 1989, before he married Judith Larkin, who sadly passed away in 1995. It was in 1997 that he married forensic psychiatrist Yola Lucire.

Whilst serving and holding various positions with the amalgamated Printing and Kindred Industries Union, Bruce became more involved in political issues of the time, including the opposition to Australia's involvement in the Vietnam War and supporting the women's liberation movement. It was in the election of October 1980 that Bruce would take the second spot of Labor's New South Wales Senate ticket, following a 10-year position in the ALP's New South Wales branch. Bruce was re-elected to the Senate another five times, facing a series of elections due to double dissolutions.

During his 16 years of service to the parliament, he gave great commitment to chairing and contributing to many committees. Most notably, he was a member of the privileges committee for 14 years, including as chair for four years. Bruce's dedication to such committees was demonstrated when, in 1992, he delivered a paper titled The truth about parliamentary committees that gave insight and thoughtful deliberation on the purpose and role of parliamentary and Senate committees. His participation and observation of committee work led him to propose and implement the merging of roles of estimates and standing committees that was put into effect in 1994 during the redesign of Senate committees. Bruce regarded the process of Senate committees as remarkable, when political differences were set aside and committees would deliver 'a civil and productive result'.

As a driver of Labor's left faction, Bruce also held true to his values. On more than one occasion, he publicly opposed the decisions of the then Hawke government, including issuing a press release with fellow MP Gerry Hand on the decision for Australia to sell uranium to France and abstaining on the vote for Australia's involvement in the Gulf War. Throughout his career, Bruce was known as a strong supporter of young people, and particularly women, becoming active in politics. So much so that, for 25 years, he attended the ALP's women's conference as an observer.

Bruce remained politically active following his retirement from the Senate in 1997. He became president of the Evert Foundation for eight years and was a member for 21 years. During that time, he organised the 2002 Palm Sunday peace marches to protest the second Gulf War.

It is undoubtedly clear that Bruce had a lifelong commitment to serving others, and it seems fitting to conclude in his own words. During his valedictory to this chamber, he said:

… I looked at my first speech, and I must say that on the fundamentals, the ideological differences that we have, then I have not changed one iota from my first speech and the feelings of where I come from. Nevertheless, it is that contradiction between your basic fundamental beliefs and what you learn in the process that is so broadening and so marvellous, and makes you proud to be a parliamentarian. I have never identified with being a politician, but I really do identify with being a parliamentarian.

I understand that Bruce was not only a friend but a mentor to a number of those opposite and in the other chamber. We can all appreciate the value of the knowledge and guidance of those that came before us in this place, and I offer my sympathies to you at Bruce's passing. On behalf of the opposition and the Australian Senate, to Bruce's loved ones, family and friends: I extend our deep and sincere condolences.

Jenny McAllister (NSW, Australian Labor Party, Assistant Minister for Climate Change and Energy) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

Last Friday I attended the funeral of former senator Bruce Childs. It was a large event and a joyful event for a man who lived a long, rich and full life. It was followed by a reception at the home of his wife, Yola Lucire, and that reception was characteristic of the many social events held in their family home. There was terrific food, lively conversation and a lot of people. I first met Bruce in 1996. I was young then and had recently arrived in Sydney, and Bruce was enormously kind to me and continued to offer kindness and support for many, many years until he became ill. That, of course, was around the time when Bruce was coming to the end of his time here in the Senate.

So, in 1997, this chamber was full—if we review the Hansardof senators who lined up to offer their respects and their reflections on the contribution that Bruce made to this place. It's a pretty interesting list, actually. It doesn't do to speculate who might turn up to each of our valedictory speeches, but the speeches for Bruce included the following contributors: Senators Faulkner; Hill; Boswell; Bourne; Harradine; Carr; Watson; O'Brien, from Tasmania; Kemp, whose speech included an exchange about think tanks and their role; Forshaw; Mackay; Chapman; Lundy; Ellison; McKiernan; Calvert; Margetts; Ian Macdonald; and West. It's a long list, and every one of them spoke about their respect for him and about his character.

There are common themes that shine through in those contributions that are very familiar to those of us who knew Bruce and loved him. The contributions speak of patience, as did Senator Ayres. They speak of his trustworthy nature and his respect for the confidences placed in him by others in this place. They speak of his courtesy, his gentleness and also his modesty. Fame didn't motivate Bruce. He wasn't here to be famous. He was here to pursue his principles and to represent the people that he believed were owed our representation. No less a contributor than Senator Hill said this in his comments:

A high public profile does not necessarily mean that you are making the greatest contribution; sometimes to the contrary.

Senator Hill went on to also speak about the contribution Bruce made to the institutions here, including Bruce's contribution to the Privileges Committee.

As I said, my interactions with Bruce were not in this place; they were in New South Wales, in the New South Wales branch of the Labor Party and in the New South Wales left. Senator Ayres and I were both young and acting around the time of the Walk Against the War, a time when Bruce leveraged all of the connections and relationships that he had built over decades in the peace movement to mobilise one of the largest demonstrations, if not the largest demonstration, ever seen in Sydney. There were 250,000 people on the street in a democratic expression of the concern, anger and fear that Australians held about the decision to go to war in Iraq. As a senator has said, it required some patience, because the coalition of organisations and people that was necessary to bring out quite so many Australians onto the street was diverse indeed. It was only Bruce and his deep belief that through listening, through consulting, through talking he could bring people together in a common purpose and build something much, much bigger than ourselves. It was only Bruce's belief in those ideas that made that possible.

It's the final thing that I do want to remark upon—that is Bruce's commitment to the world of ideas. Others so far have spoken about his commitment to his principles, but those principles weren't merely slogans or merely feelings. They were well articulated ideas born of deep breeding and discussion and the lived experience of political organisation and activity that led him to a particular theory about our world, about what was fair and unfair and about what was required to change it. Bruce didn't believe that all of the answers would be found in a chamber like this; he believed very deeply that the answers lay in engaging ordinary people in politics, that the broadest possible group of people should be engaged in the decisions about our country, whether that was through their involvement in their union or their involvement in a march like the Walk Against the War.

Bruce was determined that the spirit of those ideas and the commitment to ideas and the development of ideas were absolutely essential for the ongoing success of any political organisation. In seeking to cultivate those characteristics, he was enormously generous in his time with young people. I am not unique; I am one of many people who was very fortunate to receive the time that Bruce was willing to offer. When I first came here, I spoke in my first speech about how proud I was to join in the tradition that included Bruce amongst its earliest representatives. With his passing we have lost a man of great principle and of ideas. Today I offer my condolences to Yola and to Bruce's children, and I join with others in honouring the life of our friend former senator Bruce Childs.

Question agreed to, honourable senators joining in a moment of silence.