Lazarus Rising
Page 82
Karen Chijoff was the Liberal candidate for Lindsay, Kelly having opted to retire. Chijoff’s husband had been involved with Gary Clarke in organising the fake leaflets. Their marriage later broke up. I felt sorry for Karen. She had worked hard in difficult circumstances and deserved better than this monumental stupidity. Jackie Kelly made matters worse by trying, during an interview on AM, to excuse what had happened as some kind of ‘Chaser prank’! I was staggered when I heard this. The incident received extensive and damaging coverage on Thursday, the day of my final press club appearance.
My speech there was strong, and I brought together the themes of my campaign. It was to no avail. The press were only interested in Lindsay. If any last-minute rally were under way, the lunacy in Lindsay well and truly put paid to it.
I never stopped. I left Canberra after the press club for a last-minute swing through Queensland, travelling first to the suburbs of Brisbane, greeting Thursday-night shoppers, and then on to Cairns, to campaign for Charlie McKillop, Liberal candidate for Leichhardt. She had replaced Warren Entsch, an extremely popular local member who had decided to pull out for family reasons. Charlie tried hard but was out of her depth. It was plain that without Entsch, we had no hope of holding Leichhardt.
Then it was on to Townsville and Peter Lindsay, the indefatigable member for Herbert. Peter had held the seat since 1996. He stayed on to fight the 2007 election, and as parliamentary secretary for Defence he had intimate links with the huge Defence community in Herbert, clustered around the famous Lavarack Army Barracks. I am glad that he stayed; without him the Liberal Party would have lost Herbert. My final campaign stop was in Rockhampton, where I helped both the Liberal and National candidates in the new seat of Flynn. Labor won the seat, but that was something of an aberration. It is a natural Coalition seat.
I entertained some hope, based on the movement back to us shown by Newspoll and Galaxy, that there could be a late rally which might put us over the line. Our younger son, Richard, who had been working in the United States for some years, had come back for the last week of the campaign. He travelled with us through the final few days and was the source of much cheer and amusement. He had enjoyed all the electoral triumphs of the past decade and, much as he wished it would be otherwise, he had prepared for a loss on the coming Saturday, whilst working to the very end to stop it happening. Together we composed the slogan ‘Stronger, prouder, more prosperous’. I was immensely lucky to have three children who cheered me on always and supported my career to the very limit. They were affectionate, helpful and ever loyal. It’s not easy being the children of a prime minister; they wore it with pride and dignity, and I will forever love them for it.
Election day, 24 November 2007, was a lovely summer day in Sydney. I had my customary morning walk, followed by hordes of press people. I thought that it was probably my last day as PM, but still held out a small amount of hope, based once again on that poll shift earlier in the week.
Having been a member of the House of Representatives for 33 years and 6 months, which made me the 12th-longest-serving MP out of the more than 1100 who have been elected since Federation, I had a good sense of the mood of the electorate, simply from moving around, talking to people on polling booths and observing their body language. By mid-afternoon I sensed that the Government was gone and that I would probably lose Bennelong. Too many eyes were averted. There were the two middle-aged women at Denistone East who simply said, ‘No thanks, Mr Howard’. There was the veteran at Putney School who was handing out Labor tickets because we had not agreed to a particular recognition for a form of service in Korea. It was a different mood from that of the two previous elections.
There was no special mystery about my vulnerability in Bennelong. Progressive redistributions plus some demographic changes had made it a marginal seat. My majority was 4.1 per cent, having had a further 0.6 of 1 per cent shaved from my previous margin by the 2006 redistribution. I no longer had any blue-ribbon areas such as Hunters Hill, which had been removed after the 1998 election. Bennelong was a radically different seat from the one I won way back in 1974. As well as the boundary alterations, demographic changes were working against the Liberal Party, with more students, fewer retired citizens and an Asian community with volatile voting habits.
There was also the myth of the local member’s personal vote. Vanity encourages long-serving MPs in metropolitan seats to believe that they have large personal votes. When it is remembered that the true definition of a personal vote is the support of a person who, if you were not the candidate, would invariably vote for other than your party, that vote is nowhere near as high as many imagine. I didn’t have a large personal vote in Bennelong; if anything, as PM I probably drew more flak than if I had been an ordinary MP.
The swing against me in Bennelong was the average pro-Labor swing in New South Wales. To be precise, it was 5.3 per cent. The statewide average was 5.1 per cent. I lost a marginal seat.
We gathered again at Kirribilli House to await the outcome. As well as my close staff, Tony Nutt, David Luff, Aileen Weisner and Tony O’Leary, Grahame Morris and Arthur Sinodinos and their wives joined us. The exit polls predicted an ALP win. We calmly accepted the outcome. By 8.30 it was all over, even though the polling booths in WA had not closed. At about 9.30 pm I rang Kevin Rudd, congratulated him and discussed transition arrangements. Peter Costello phoned. I told him that I would make my concession speech shortly and would say that I thought he should assume the leadership of the Liberal Party. He replied that he was not sure he would take it on and intended to discuss it further with family and friends. Having other things on my mind, I did not think much more about Peter and the leadership. I was genuinely surprised when he walked away from the leadership the next day. As events were to prove, I had wrongly assumed that politics was so much part of his being that he could not walk away whilst the possibility of the ultimate prize was still there.
My concession speech and the time I spent with supporters afterwards was an emotional hour and a half. I was determined to remain calm, remembering that I had revelled in four previous victories at the same hotel. More importantly, disappointment is part of life’s experience, and I knew that the keen loss Janette and my three children felt would be easier for them if I handled it well.
Although given with immense regret, my concession speech was really quite easy. I congratulated Kevin Rudd and the ALP, accepted full responsibility for the defeat, told the Australian people what a privilege it had been to serve as their PM, thanked the Liberal Party for all it had done for me, and expressed remorse at the loss of so many fine colleagues. My final thanks were to my staff and, of course, my family.
That was it. That was how I ended more than 33 years in parliament and just short of 12 years as PM. There was nothing more to say at that time. I declined all requests for valedictory speeches and interviews. Later there were some generous tribute dinners, but by then political life had moved on and they took place in the context of the new battle between the Rudd Government and the Coalition led by Brendan Nelson.
The following morning I went on my normal walk, accompanied by an army of press people, which included a few strays who had come along for the ghoulish pleasure of watching me the day after my loss. I disappointed them and kept up my usual pace. Later that morning, Janette and I attended Holy Communion at the local Anglican church in Lavender Bay. If we had won the election, we would have done the same thing. By these actions I was saying in my own way that I fully accepted what had happened; it disappointed me, but that was the democratic process. For me and my family, life would go on, and it would continue to be a good life.
The following Tuesday I returned to Canberra for some farewells and a big pack-up. I said goodbye to my department properly. Peter Shergold, the secretary of PM&C, assembled them all and thanked me. I then spoke and thanked them for their professionalism over more than 11 years. I meant it. We had developed a respectful relationship. I suspected that approximately 60 to 70 per cent of
them would have voted Labor three days earlier. They were not especially hostile to me, but Canberra is a Labor town. If the ALP still has a tribe, as distinct from supporters, it is the tertiary-educated salaried professionals of the public service. They are thick on the ground in Canberra. That having been said, the employees of my department had, by and large, behaved in a truly professional fashion during my time.
Janette and I invited all members of the ministry and the parliamentary secretaries to lunch at the Lodge on Tuesday so I could say my thanks. Most, but not all, were able to come and, despite the emotional let-down we all felt, it was an important occasion. Together we had produced a government of remarkable reform and achievement; even at this very early stage, we had to commence defending our legacy.
Another important farewell was a call at Russell Hill to say thank you and goodbye to the leadership of the ADF. They were all there, and I was genuinely moved by their gesture: the CDF, Air Chief Marshal Angus Houston, presented me with a wonderful replica of an Australian soldier carrying a wounded comrade. Simply entitled ‘The Digger’, it bore the inscription, ‘To John Howard Prime Minister — For your leadership and genuine concern for the wellbeing of the soldiers, sailors and airmen of the Australian Defence Force’. That replica sits in a prominent place in my office and always will. In my time as PM I grew extremely close to the ADF. I went out of my way to back our service personnel. Their welfare will always be in my prayers.
We vacated the Lodge on Friday and, before returning to Sydney, formally called on the Governor-General to say goodbye to him for the last time as PM. It was more than a constitutional formality. Michael Jeffery had given years of military and vice-regal service to Australia; he and his wife, Marlena, were gracious and distinguished occupants of Yarralumla. My resignation was to take effect the following Monday. The day before, Janette and I invited Kevin Rudd and his wife, Thérèse, to the Lodge for afternoon tea and a ‘house handover’. Media coverage of this event conveyed the impression of the orderly and civil transfer of power which is the hallmark of a mature democracy.
Why did we lose, particularly given the very robust economy? The desire for change, and a belief that with Kevin Rudd leading the ALP it was safe to do so, was the main reason. It is difficult for a national government to remain in office for much longer than a decade, unless the opposition is dysfunctional. Saturation press coverage limits the shelf life of all modern political leaders. I had been the dominant face of the Liberal side of politics for more than 20 years, even longer than the period of my prime ministership.
The mood of the electorate in November 2007 was akin to that of a reader who had reached the end of an interesting, but rather long, book. He puts it aside feeling satisfied with what he had read, but in the mood for something different.
Although the overall economy was vibrant, cost-of-living pressures were being felt everywhere. Most Australians paying off their homes were facing higher interest rate payments than several years earlier. Petrol was much dearer. As some columnists put it, there was a difference between the ‘measured’ economy and the ‘felt’ economy.
I was reminded of this in a humorous fashion at the end of 2008 by a friend. He said to me, ‘John, I’m much better off than I was when you were there. My interest rates have come down and my petrol’s cheaper.’ Our conversation occurred after the RBA had sharply cut rates in 2008, and the financial plunge had sent fuel prices tumbling. He may not have been as sanguine in the middle of 2010.
The fear campaign on WorkChoices, especially concerning penalty rates, hurt us badly. Our refusal to ratify Kyoto fed the perception that the Coalition was unwilling to do enough on climate change and at a time when the public was really exercised on the issue.
Would we have won if I had retired in 2006 and Peter Costello had been prime minister? The only correct answer to that is that we will never know. We can only speculate. My speculation is that Peter leading us would not have changed the outcome. The desire for change relates to governments. British Labour changed from Blair to Brown, but still lost. On all the big issues, such as economic management and national security, Costello and I were as one. His style would have been different from mine, but the policy substance of the Government would have been the same. His social views were not much at variance from mine. Despite what has been written by others, I do not recall him ever advocating a formal apology to the so-called Stolen Generation.
Given the stance he had consistently taken over the years on industrial relations changes, Peter Costello could not, credibly, have taken a softer position in that area to mine.
Whether the mere fact of change and the different style Costello might have brought would have increased our vote was at least debatable. For the last 12 months of our time in office, my personal approval ratings were well ahead of the Coalition vote, some evidence at least for the proposition that I was not dragging the Coalition down.
Given the doleful tidings of the opinion polls — both public and private — for 12 months, going down in the election was no surprise. That did not, however, remove the loss and disappointment I felt and the concern I had for each of my defeated colleagues. I telephoned them all, offering commiserations and chatting about their plans for the future.
Some of them would endeavour to return at the next election; others had non-political intentions; none expressed bitterness. The common theme, in some cases through the pain of deep disappointment, was that they were proud to have been part of a government which had achieved so much for Australia.
Long years in government — which had been our good fortune — are of little avail unless the power and opportunity it brings are put to good purpose. Over almost 12 years we had done that in every area of Commonwealth Government responsibility. Australia was indeed a stronger, prouder and more prosperous nation than it had been in March 1996. That undisputed legacy was to gather strength over the ensuing few years.
Will the new Gillard Government last? The only answer is that no one knows. Menzies had exactly the same majority in 1961, but his troops were all Liberals and Nationals (then Country Party), not the cosmopolitan collection which gave Gillard a lifeline to the Lodge.
History will offer her no comfort. The last time something like this happened — in 1940 — there were two changes of Prime Minister — first from Menzies to Fadden and then from Fadden to Curtin — before another election took place.
Rob Oakeshott’s opportunism should cost him dearly when he next faces electoral judgement. Tony Windsor apparently believes that good government is achieved if the 43rd parliament lasts three years, not by what the government does during that parliament. Bob Katter emerged with honour. He objectively assessed the benefits on offer for his electorate and kept faith with his political values.
By the narrowest possible margin Tony Abbott fell short of upending more than 100 years of political history in Australia. Scullin’s first-term loss is distinguishable as it was in the middle of the Great Depression when incumbent governments were especially vulnerable. By contrast the Australian economy was in world-class condition when the people voted on 21 August 2010. This should have virtually guaranteed the return of the Labor Government. That the ALP did not win in its own right will always bear testament to the poor political judgement of the federal Labor MPs who consented to the removal of Kevin Rudd as PM.
Kevin Rudd would have led the ALP to a clear victory if he had still been PM. It was a colossal blunder by Labor to dump him. He had not been a particularly good PM; he had little policy substance; he was increasingly perplexing the public with his verbose style of communication; and he treated his colleagues in an arrogant way — an elemental failure for a political leader in egalitarian Australia. He would, however, have brought one great virtue to the election campaign for the ALP. Rudd would have been able to deliver an uncomplicated re-election message — that his Government had saved Australia from a recession. It would have been a false and fiercely contested claim, but it would have been direct,
unconditional and decisive.
It was never possible for Gillard to claim, convincingly, that the ALP had saved the nation from recession, because that required her to rationalise the execution of the man who led the rescue operation. Rudd, according to Gillard, had to go because under him the Government had ‘lost its way’. That invited the unanswerable retort: how could a government which had lost its way have saved Australia from recession?
Gillard compounded this problem by calling the election much too soon. A poll late in October would have given her two precious months in which to gain traction from incumbency and, importantly, draw some of the poison from within Labor’s rank and file over Rudd’s downfall, especially in Queensland.
The foregoing is written from the perspective of ALP errors. Some of them were unforced, such as the ludicrously early poll. Others were a direct result of the dramatic change in the dynamic of Australian politics when Tony Abbott, unexpectedly, became Leader of the Opposition early in December 2009. Abbott won the leadership on a policy principle — opposition to the ETS. Malcolm Turnbull lost his leadership because he did not try hard enough to hold his party together on the issue. Joe Hockey failed to win the leadership — despite strong evidence at one point that he was the favoured compromise candidate — because of his foolish decision to offer Liberal MPs a free vote on the ETS. It was a mainstream economic issue, thus requiring any leadership aspirant to have a clear attitude, one way or the other.