Lazarus Rising

by John Howard

  He asked me about Kevin Rudd, who he was to meet for the first time as Prime Minister in just over a week. I said that Rudd was pro-American and, therefore, unlike at least one previous Labor leader. I remarked, ‘He’ll stick by the alliance.’ I said nothing critical of Rudd, and gained the distinct impression that Bush would welcome my successor with warmth and cordiality. That is exactly what happened. The new Australian PM was given every courtesy, including a full-scale news conference. They joked about the similarities between Texas and Queensland. The generosity of the welcome Rudd received from Bush made all the more reprehensible the dishonest briefing which occurred, at the Australian end, following Rudd’s telephone conversation with Bush, late in 2008, concerning the G20. That briefing falsely asserted that, in his discussion with Rudd, the American President had shown ignorance of what the G20 was. It was a disgraceful way to treat a man who had shown him much courtesy and, even more importantly, was a true friend of Australia.

  George Bush had an open, sunny style with people. We, and our wives, dined together in old Saigon (now Ho Chi Minh City), after the 2006 APEC meeting in Hanoi. The restaurant had endured a huge security operation, but the owner was delighted to have us, providing a private room. After dinner we left through the main part of the restaurant, which still had plenty of diners. Bush stopped to greet most of them, displaying that uncanny knack which some politicians have of knowing who in a crowded room wants to meet you — and who doesn’t. Most of them that night did, including a group of Australians who wanted photographs with both of us. He did the rounds of the place with just the right mix of friendliness and dignity. The owner literally beamed. It was copybook retail politics, yet he wasn’t at home seeking to impress potential voters. The truth was he did that because he enjoyed meeting people; he did it everywhere, in a natural, spontaneous fashion. It was the same when he came to Australia for APEC in 2007. It was never too much trouble for him to respond to requests for photographs.

  The presidency of George Bush will be defined largely by history’s judgement of his response to the terrorist menace which hit the world without warning on 11 September 2001. We are a long way short of that judgement. Part of the calculus will be the extent to which the presumably different approach of Barack Obama is seen to be more successful than that of Bush. I say ‘presumably’ in relation to Obama, because he was elected as a change agent although, in relation to fighting terrorism, it is by no means obvious as yet where he differs in substance, as distinct from rhetoric, from George Bush.

  In one area Obama can only hope to match Bush, but not exceed him. That is in defending the homeland from another attack. I have already written of how preoccupied the American people were with the possibility of another terrorist attack in the weeks and months, even several years, which followed 11 September. George Bush rightly saw it as his overriding task to stop this happening. In this he was spectacularly successful. Against all the expectations which came after the original attack a further one did not eventuate. With the passage of time this began to be taken for granted, yet it had not been by pure chance. The myriad security and other steps taken by Bush to buttress the homeland paid dividends. For his efforts Bush was routinely accused of violating individual rights. I am sure that on occasions this did happen, but the question to be put is, was that violation justified by the dividend of no further attacks? Most Americans would answer positively. Yet as time went by they would give their President diminishing credit for his role in keeping the country safe.

  Iraq has been something of a case study of George Bush. He went after Saddam because he wanted to pre-empt the Iraqi dictator’s capacity to facilitate further terrorist attacks, and also he believed that he could create a new democracy in the Middle East. There was plenty of domestic backing for his action, which was to be later condemned as reckless and provocative when things went sour after the invasion had been completed.

  At the beginning of 2007, when the Iraqi operation seemed to have reached a stalemate, with American casualties continuing to mount at a painful rate, Bush, against almost all advice, decided on the surge, which, under the direction of General David Petraeus, proved to be remarkably effective. Bush held his nerve. Although he understood that the three years which followed the invasion had been a near disaster for the United States and had damaged his own credibility, he had not averted his eyes from the original objective — Iraq as a functioning democracy. He knew that to reject the surge would cement Iraq in history as an American failure; a successful surge could bring events back on track for the original objective.

  36

  BLUE COLLARS AND GREEN SLEEVES — LATHAM’S IMPLOSION

  At 4.50 pm on Tuesday, 31 August 2004, I wandered to the window of my Canberra office and stared at the artificial waterfall in the courtyard. I had just 10 minutes to take a decision which was to prove fateful to the outcome of the election on 9 October, called by me only two days earlier.

  I had to decide whether or not to include expenditure of $830 million over four years in the commitments of the Government to appear in the pre-election economic statement (PEFO), issued by the secretaries of Treasury and the Department of Finance, under the Charter of Budget Honesty. The PEFO had to be issued within 10 days of the beginning of the caretaker period for the 2004 election, which was to start at 5 pm Eastern Standard Time on that very same day, 31 August.

  The caretaker period was a longstanding Westminster convention, whereby, in the weeks immediately before an election, the incumbent government took no policy decisions and made no appointments without the consent of the opposition. The logic was obvious. If the government changed, the new government should not be burdened with decisions taken during the very time that the people were deciding which government they would have.

  A government could decide on new spending and/or taxation measures after the election had been called and before the caretaker period started, but details of any such decision would appear in the PEFO.

  There was advantage for a government announcing, and including in the PEFO, a new decision, rather than making it an election promise. This was because the cost of the decision was taken into account by Treasury and Finance in calculating the size of the surplus (or deficit) notionally available for campaign promises. Although the size of that surplus constrained the commitments of both sides, there was normally more restraint on an opposition, because in good economic times — and that was the case in 2004 — an opposition always had a harder task in establishing economic credibility.

  The $830 million was the total cost of a program to remove, completely, all remaining old-growth forests in Tasmania from future logging. The plan involved repudiation of the Regional Forest Agreement (RFA), concluded with the Tasmanian Government in November 1997, and the loss of hundreds of jobs in the timber industry. The impact on small communities heavily dependent on forestry would be significant. Compensation was to be generous, with assistance in tourism and plantation reafforestation. To its protagonists, and there were quite a few, it was a big bold environmental initiative which would dramatically reposition the Coalition on the environment, win votes on the mainland of Australia and, because of the generosity of the proposed compensation, not damage the Government in Tasmanian electorates. To them it was win-win.

  The Opposition leader, Mark Latham, had been sending strong signals all year that for the election he would do something big on old-growth forests. Complete with leather jacket, and accompanied by Greens Leader Bob Brown, he had stood on an old tree stump in a Tasmanian forest. They had both gazed into the distance. As far as the eye could see there was a steady flow of Green preferences to the Labor Party.

  Saving old-growth forests was still the iconic green issue. It was a classic case of elite urban opinion being ingratiated at the expense, potentially, of other people’s jobs in faraway parts of the country. In any event, they could get other jobs in new-growth industries like tourism, so everyone came out on top, according to this view. The difficulties involved
in retraining a 50-year-old timber worker for something entirely different rarely occurred to tertiary-educated city dwellers.

  More than in many other policy areas, the environment was susceptible to the politics of symbolism. Feel-good politics were at a premium here. Saving whales and preserving endangered species, whilst meritorious in themselves, returned a doubly handsome dividend in the realm of the warm inner glow. When it came to the aspirations of environmentalists, old-growth forests were of the same genre. The big difference was that there was a cost on the other side. Saving whales did not involve Australian jobs. Saving old-growth forests might well do so. The Labor Party was to learn that to its electoral expense at the election of 2004.

  Although we had worn away at Latham’s credibility by the time the election was called, I was by no means certain that we would win. For that reason a surprise initiative on the environment on my part had been a live option for weeks. It was obvious that if we were to go big in this area, it would be with old-growth forests. That meant the Tasmanian old-growth forests.

  Most of my senior colleagues and staff favoured embracing the $830 million plan. One exception was the minister responsible for forests, Senator Ian McDonald, who was from North Queensland. He thought that the policy document was good but that the politics were all wrong. He was right.

  As it was likely that any major environmental initiative would involve Tasmania’s old-growth forests, there was heavy traffic into my office from the various interest groups, including the Forestry Division of the Construction, Foresty, Mining and Energy Union (CFMEU). Arthur Sinodinos and I had several discussions with its president, Michael O’Connor, who was a likeable man and an effective advocate for his cause.

  If it were to go with the Tasmanian option, the Government could either announce it before release of the PEFO or at some time during the campaign, as an election promise. The first approach would have given old-growth forests a huge profile in the campaign. Was that really what the Government wanted though? Weren’t economic management and national security the Coalition strong suits?

  As I gazed at that waterfall, my instinct told me that to go with the supergreen option in Tasmania would be to betray the ‘Howard battlers’ in timber communities there and elsewhere. How could I explain to them such a sudden policy reversal? For eight years I had been a Prime Minister who had put jobs ahead of pandering to noisy minority groups for political advantage. Now I was chasing Green preferences in the leafy suburbs of Sydney and Melbourne. That would have been an oversimplification and not completely accurate, but it is how they would have felt. That was the real reason why I did not put that $830 million in the PEFO.

  Although I didn’t see it that way at the time, my rejection of the upfront embrace of the old-growth option meant that it would not be the policy of the Coalition at any time during the election campaign. Looking back, the alternatives were either to go a deep shade of green right at the beginning or stay true to my instincts and wait for Mark Latham to stumble on the issue.

  Latham and I played a cat and mouse game. On 3 September, campaigning for Larry Anthony in Murwillumbah, I said that I was in favour of preserving old-growth forests, but not at the expense of throwing timber workers on the unemployment scrapheap. My response kept open the possibility that the Coalition would move on old-growth forests, but it gave my opponent no clue as to how or when. That is exactly what I wanted. I suspected all along that the ALP leader had done a deal with Bob Brown to lock in Green preferences, and that at some point he would have to commit himself publicly. His position was relatively easy for me to read, but the reverse was not the case. Latham had no real idea of what I would do; nor, in fact, did anyone else. I decided to play my cards close to my chest and wait out Latham. It was a test of nerves.

  By Sunday, 3 October, just six days before polling, Latham had, as I predicted, run out of time. His nerve broke and the next day he suddenly altered his travel plans and headed for Tasmania to announce a plan to buy out the old-growth forests and implement the full green agenda. Bob Brown had got his way. In fact, he had had his way for quite a long time on this issue; only now it was to be out in the open.

  The Opposition leader could not have handled this issue more clumsily. He had completely ignored the Labor Premier of Tasmania, Paul Lennon, who was a passionate supporter of the timber industry and its workers. A former union official, Lennon’s first and last loyalty was to the men and women of an industry which had been crucial to the Tasmanian economy for decades. Lennon was not given the details of the Latham takeover until they met the next day in Hobart. He was livid at what he was told. Workers in the industry, who had rallied outside Lennon’s office, were ignored, literally, as Latham snuck out the back door and headed for the airport and a speedy return to the mainland.

  The Latham plan was based on a commitment to end all further logging in Tasmania’s old-growth forests. There were plenty of promises about new industries, plantation reafforestation, and the immense potential of the tourism industry in the island state. All of that was of cold comfort to those in the industry, both workers and small business operators.

  Within hours of Latham’s policy statement there was an angry reaction from union and Labor people. Although Michelle O’Byrne and Sid Sidebottom, the Labor MPs for Bass and Braddon, the two Tasmanian electorates most directly affected, held their tongues, Dick ‘Grizzly’ Adams, a former timber worker himself and MP for the adjoining seat of Lyons, let fly against his own leader’s policy. Although he remained tight-lipped, Lennon’s opinion was widely known. The politics of this issue had been comprehensively bungled by Latham and were now savagely biting Labor.

  In the final days of the campaign this was manna from heaven for the Coalition, but our own position had to be carefully handled. We had to state a policy, and that policy could not completely ignore old-growth forests. Yet, obviously, it had to stop short of locking up all of the old-growth areas with the lethal implications that had for jobs. It was here that the constant dialogue between my office and the several interest groups over previous months proved invaluable. We were in a position to pull together a policy likely to win wide acceptance. I had a well-developed idea of what that policy would be when I flew to Launceston the following day.

  The industry and unions had organised a big rally in City Park, Launceston, and many of those attending had drifted to the nearby Albert Hall to hear speeches from industry and union leaders. Everyone knew that I was in town and they naturally wanted to hear from me about the Government’s policy. They were angry with Latham, but that did not mean that they would automatically endorse me and the Coalition.

  I met industry and union leaders as well as representatives of the timber communities for an hour or more at the Grand Chancellor Hotel, Launceston, which was within easy walking distance of the Albert Hall. At that meeting I settled on a policy that I would announce to the public meeting at the nearby hall. As I walked to the Albert Hall I felt nervous, even though I knew that what I would announce was infinitely more palatable than what they had heard from the Labor Party.

  The next hour was one of the more remarkable in my political life. It was the most adrenaline-charged moment of the 2004 campaign for me, and the impact of that meeting reverberated around the nation. The hall was overflowing with some 2000 people when I arrived. They were noisy, some were well lubricated and, above all else, wanted to hear directly and without humbug from me about our plans affecting their futures.

  When I rose to speak I came straight to the point. I did not start by attacking the Labor Party. They knew that they didn’t like its policy on Tasmanian forests, but now they wanted to hear from me about what we would do. I said that my Government would honour the RFA. This struck an instant chord. The RFA had provided stability to the industry. It enshrined long-term commitments from both federal and state governments. These agreements were seen as pragmatic compromises between the various competing interests. Latham had been extremely foolish to repudiate the Tasmani
an RFA. He had repudiated stability.

  I then said that a re-elected Coalition Government would add 170,000 hectares to the current reserve system. That was a win for the environment, but a long way short of the job-destroying lock-up proposed by Latham. A large number of individual initiatives my office had worked out with the industry, when added to the preservation of the RFA, meant that our policy was overwhelmingly a pro-jobs one. When I finished my speech I received thunderous applause. I left the stage and plunged into the crowd, giving my security detail a minor heart attack. Burly tattooed timber workers hugged me and declared that I had a better understanding of their position than the party they normally supported; family groups told me that whole communities of hundreds of people would be devastated if old growth logging were halted altogether; others declared that they liked the forests too but there had to be a balance.

  Television coverage of this meeting and the aftermath dominated news bulletins that evening and into the following day. It was a magical public relations boost for the Liberal and National parties. The image was of a Labor heartland embracing a Liberal Prime Minister. It didn’t get any better than that. Writing in the Australian on 8 October, Ken Hall, a self-styled lifelong Labor supporter, said, ‘I have come to believe that John Howard is the best leader to represent the timber workers of Tasmania … On Wednesday, I went to a protest in Launceston to hear Howard’s pitch to timber workers. I expected to hear the worst. But I quickly learned that he is the right man in the right place at the right time. It was a great relief to hear him say that he will maintain the RFA. This means having the continued confidence to go on building our family business for the long term.’1 His comments symbolised the colossal political miscalculation Mark Latham had made.