REVISITING THE LIFE AND LEGACY OF ROBERT MENZIES

Who was Robert Menzies, what did he stand for, what did he achieve. Columnist with The Australian and author – most recently – of Robert Menzies The Art of Politics, Troy Bramston has not only researched the official record and published accounts, but has also interviewed members of Menzies’ family, and his former advisers and ministers. He has also been given exclusive access to family letters, as well as to a series of interviews that Menzies gave that have never been revealed before. On Monday 13 May, Troy Bramston addressed The Sydney Institute to capture something of the experience of writing Robert Menzies biography.

REVISITING THE LIFE AND LEGACY OF ROBERT MENZIES

TROY BRAMSTON

The Sydney Institute plays an important role by encouraging debate and discussion on economic, cultural and political ideas, and matters of history.

I thank Gerard and Anne Henderson for inviting me back to The Sydney Institute. This is the sixth time that I have spoken here. And it is a privilege to do so.

But I must admit some trepidation about speaking here about Robert Menzies. Gerard and Anne have both written very good books about Menzies, or which deal with Menzies, and the Liberal Party. I am fully prepared for a critical analysis of anything that I say and write about Menzies – I am fair game. So let me reiterate how much I admire both of you, your books and The Sydney Institute!

An unlikely biographer

Now, I may not be the likeliest person to write a biography of Robert Menzies – the first in 20 years.

My last book was, after all, a biography of Paul Keating … who sends his apologies by the way. He’s a huge Menzies fan! And a great admirer of The Sydney Institute!

But Robert Menzies continues to loom large in Australian political life. He defined and dominated an era in Australian politics. He has never been matched for his record term as prime minister or his election victories. And he remains the only prime minister to leave office at a time of their choosing in the post-war period.

However, debate over Menzies’ life and legacy has never settled – which makes him a compelling biographical subject. Some see him as the personification of statesmanship in the twentieth century. Others see him as snap-frozen in time as a stuffy Edwardian not in tune with the emerging Australia of the 1950s and 1960s.

Liberal leaders routinely invoke Menzies and enlist him to their cause.

 Interpreting Menzies is core business for every Liberal leader. John Howard and Tony Abbott have continued to invoke Menzies as the epitome of conservatism. Malcolm Fraser viewed him as the personification of what it means to be a liberal. For Malcolm Turnbull, he was a political centrist.

Scott Morrison steered a middle path and said: “The things that we believe in today are the things that he believed in then.”

 The upshot is that Menzies’ true philosophical bearing remains contested within the party he led longer than anyone else.

It is also not surprising that some Labor leaders seek to delegitimise Menzies’ legacy because it remains so important to the Liberal tradition. In truth, Menzies is more substantial than his critics allow and has more faults than his admirers accept. The continuing debate over Menzies’ place in history, his achievements and failures, and his enduring legacy, underscores his significance.

So, in this book, I tried to provide a balanced account of his life and legacy. I do so fairly but rigorously … and without partisan idolatry or mockery.

R.G. Menzies

I tried to capture the real Menzies. Who he was. How he lived. What his values were. His virtues and his vices. How he gained and used political power. And what his legacy was.

When he retired in the summer of 1966, Menzies bestrode the political stage like a colossus. He had served as prime minister over two separate terms – from 1939 to 1941 and from 1949 to 1966.

 He was the principal founder of the Liberal Party and led it to seven election wins. He presided over a nation imperiled by war and prosperous in peace. He was a politician who was admired and respected at home and abroad, although not universally loved. Still, he had immense authority and stature. Australians viewed him as a safe, trusted and reassuring leader.

Menzies even looked prime ministerial. He was over six feet tall and had had a bulky 20-stone frame. He had fleshy jowls, short silvery-grey hair and piercing blue eyes underneath black bushy eyebrows — that could intimidate all on their own. He wore buttoned-up double-breasted suits, usually with a crisp white shirt, dark tie and pocket handkerchief. He smoked fat cigars, mixed a lethal martini and liked a Scotch whisky in the evening. He often wore a felt homburg hat and carried walking sticks, some engraved with “R.G.M”.

This sartorial elegance augmented his gravitas and presence. He spoke in a honeyed voice with crisp expressiveness that was British in tone but uniquely Australian in its inflection.

He filled any room, was often imposing and always the centre of attention. For generations of Australians, Menzies was the prime minister.

Achievements and failures

Menzies governed during a “golden age” of strong economic growth, low unemployment, increasing wages, rising living standards, a massive influx of migrants and an expanding home-owning middle class. He has a number of signature policy achievements:

• there was a huge expansion of universities and colleges
  • a ten-fold increase in funding to universities
  • the number of universities doubled from 6 to 12
  • student numbers exploded, and three-quarters were in receipt of scholarships to subsidise their education
• funding was provided to non-government schools, although limited, which helped to end the sectarian divide
  • although the NSW Labor government supported state aid, the issue divided Labor nationally

    although the NSW Labor government supported state aid, the issue divided Labor nationally

    … and Menzies saw an opportunity to not only do what was right but what was also politically astute
• Canberra was developed into a true national capital
  • public servants were relocated to Canberra
  • new national institutions were established
  • Lake Burley Griffin was created
  • huge investments were made in local infrastructure
• the United States alliance was cemented with the ANZUS Treaty
• new relationships were forged in the Asia-Pacific – which Menzies visited more than any other prime minister
  • with initiatives such as the Commerce Agreement with Japan and the Colombo Plan

    initiatives such as the Commerce Agreement with Japan and the Colombo Plan

There were also mistakes and misjudgments, which all prime ministers make.

It is a tragedy that almost 60,000 Australians were sent to the Vietnam War – a conflict that was never property understood, ended in catastrophic failure and divided Australians. Menzies’ belief in “the domino theory”, even after 1975, was a significant strategic misjudgment. His biggest political misstep was attempting to ban the Communist Party, which saw him depart from liberal principles and was rejected by voters.

I found that Menzies, while respected and admired on the world stage, was less successful in foreign policy than domestic policy.

  He did not convince John F. Kennedy to support the Dutch remaining in New Guinea or to help defend Malaysia against Indonesia. His mission to Cairo to resolve the Suez Crisis, when he sided with the British and French over the United States, ended in humiliation.

It is also regrettable that he was reluctant to take a stronger moral and diplomatic stand against South Africa’s apartheid policy. And his views on Aboriginal Australians and the White Australia Policy are jarring today – although understandable for a man born in 1894.

Menzies resisted attempts by his own ministers to change the White Australia Policy, expand the Aboriginal referendum or take a stronger stand against South Africa.

But after he retired in 1966, the cabinet moved swiftly to change course in these areas of policy ossification.

Menzies was a traditionalist and a sentimentalist … but not a reactionary. He was a cautious reformer. This is, I think, an important assessment of who Menzies was, what he believed in and how he governed.

Menzies advocated liberalism within a conservative economic and social framework.

The economy remained shackled to highly regulated capital, product and labour markets. The budget, for most of the period, was in deficit. And the top marginal income tax rate was 67 per cent or higher.

Menzies’ longevity was also partly gifted by an opposition plagued by division and saddled with lackluster leaders – Arthur Calwell and Bert Evatt – which he successfully exploited.

The art of politics

Much of what Menzies believed in, and the policies that his government introduced, has been jettisoned by both major parties. Perhaps Menzies’ most contemporarily relevant legacy is how he practised politics rather than the enduring nature of his policies. Learning the art of politics came only after hard work, self-reflection and determination.

Menzies knew what he stood for and could communicate it clearly. He was a talented administrator of government who prized the cabinet process and respected the public service. He was a shrewd tactician and campaigner. He was the driving force behind the creation of the Liberal Party and managed it effectively. He also understood that an effective relationship with the Country Party was essential to good government.

Understanding how Menzies mastered the art of politics … especially developing, articulating and implementing policy while leading a government of longevity… could not be more relevant today.

Wit and wisdom

A large part of Menzies’ success was that he was a brilliant parliamentary debater, public speaker and broadcaster. His town hall meetings were legendary. They would be packed with supporters, opponents and the undecided. Some went for entertainment and brought sandwiches, tea and coffee.

Menzies’ speeches would be punctuated by cheers and boos, abuse and laughter.  Attendees waved placards that read: “Pig-iron Bob” or “Ming the Merciless”. Sometimes eggs or tomatoes would be thrown. Menzies was in his element … and rarely fazed.

He gained a reputation for his sharp wit, which was not always to his advantage,

even if it won a few laughs. “I wouldn’t vote for you if you were the Archangel Gabriel,” a woman once said to him. Menzies replied: “If I were the Archangel Gabriel, madam, I’m afraid you would not be in my constituency.”

A miner interjected: “Tell us all you know, Bob — it won’t take long!” Menzies responded: “I’ll tell you everything we both know — it won’t take any longer.”

On another occasion, a woman kept interrupting from the front row. Menzies said: “Madam, I’m sure your husband is very glad you are here today,” he said.

Research and interviews

The primary motivation for writing this book was discovering a series of interviews Menzies gave in 1972 and 1973 that have not been published before. He commissioned journalist Frances McNicoll to write his biography in 1969. She interviewed Menzies and did research – but the book was never written.

In the interviews, Menzies talked about his upbringing, reflected on political events, policies, and personalities, offered political lessons drawn from his experience. For example, Menzies was unsparing when it came to providing assessments of his successors, some of which has been known.

In retirement, Menzies watched in horror as the Liberal Party was plagued with instability, In retirement,

 cycled through a series of short-term leaders and tumbled to defeat in 1972. Menzies said he was “bitterly disappointed” with Harold Holt, who “fell from one disaster to ­another”. He thought it was “a terrible blunder” to make John Gorton prime minister, who lacked discipline in his public and private life. Billy ­McMahon was dismissed as “a fool” – untrustworthy, lacking in intellect and judgement, and without a shred of credibility. And Billy Snedden was just “hopeless”. None of them were up to being prime minister.

The Liberal grandee thought the party was being run by “idiots” who believed in nothing and voted for the Democratic Labour Party in 1972 – and possibly also in 1969 and 1974. He thought the Liberal Party should merge with the Country Party and form a coalition with the DLP.

Menzies thought Liberal salvation would come only with Malcolm Fraser, and was thrilled when he became leader in 1975. But Heather Henderson told me that her father was also disappointed with Fraser and recalled him sitting in front of the television and saying: “Malcolm can do nothing right.”

Menzies also revealed that he did not feel secure in his leadership until at least the 1949 election. Indeed, there were reports of a leadership challenge from Percy Spender in 1950-51. Menzies actually resigned as Liberal leader in 1947 and demanded the party get behind him. “You can’t win with Menzies” was a common refrain. But nobody did challenge him and he remained leader.

But Menzies said some in the party wanted to replace him before the 1949 election with Don Bradman or Tom Playford.

Dick Casey was often mentioned as an alternative leader.

World War I

One of the important revelations is that Menzies was deeply affected by the decision not to enlist in the First World War. His two older brothers, Les and Frank, had enlisted. Belle, his sister, had eloped with a solider and was banished from the family.

The family was plunged into emotional turmoil. Menzies revealed that his father was so stricken with grief that he nearly died. So it was decided that Robert, then a university student, would remain in Melbourne to look after the family.

About 40 per cent of young men in Australia enlisted to serve in the war. Frank was so concerned about Robert not enlisting that he sent a letter home releasing him from his promise and urging him to sign up – but the letter never arrived.

Menzies was unfairly branded a coward for not enlisting. This, he said, had “a very searing effect”. So he decided to go into politics, viewing it as “public service of some kind”, and to erase the perceived stain on his name. Menzies said: “I just had to do something to justify my existence … I decided that I ought to go into parliament.”

The First World War was the decisive event that propelled Menzies into politics.

 This has not been fully appreciated by historians or biographers. Menzies himself said in a previously unpublished interview that this was not a reason he went into politics but the reason.

The decision not to enlist continued to have an effect on him. A key reason Menzies went overseas during the Second World War, spending months abroad while his colleagues grew restless at home, was to show he did not lack courage. Menzies said he had to prove that he was “not yellow”. He wanted to “set an example” and not “run away from any danger”. He was chasing his demons.

Menzies’ non-enlistment impacted on his personal life in another way – and I have learnt more about this since the book was published. While at Melbourne University, Menzies was engaged to a fellow student Phyllis Lewis. But the engagement didn’t last and nobody really knows why.

Allan Martin, in his terrific two-volume biography of Menzies, gave it only a cursory mention. I did not dwell on it in my biography. But Lewis’ family have been in contact with me since my book was published. They shared with me the story that has been passed down through the years within the family.

Their story is that Menzies nervously proposed marriage during a university party that was accepted, essentially, because Lewis did not want to hurt his feelings. Her reservations grew in subsequent months.

Lewis had two brothers, and one was killed in France during the war. Legend has it that the brother appeared to her in a dream and told her not to marry Menzies. Meanwhile, a boy she admired years earlier, and who had served in the war, returned home. A relationship was rekindled and cemented.

So Menzies’ lack of wartime service may have contributed to the engagement being broken off. Or so the story goes.

Menzies’ vast collection of personal papers is housed in 687 boxes at the National Library of Australia. I am surprised that many historians and biographers have simply not looked at this material or had access to it.

I was granted full access to this treasure trove and discovered fragments of memoirs, notes, letters, reports and verse that have not been published before. Sitting in the National Library or the National Archives surrounded by boxes of files offers a window into the past. It is Disneyland for the historian.

Let me give you a few examples. I was able to view, for the first time, all of Menzies’ correspondence with his sister, Belle Green.

They reveal an account of Menzies’ visit to Nazi Germany in 1938, where he downplayed the Nazi threat to Europe. He also offered a degree of praise for Adolf Hitler and wrote that the “abandonment” of “individual liberty … has something magnificent about it”. The Menzies family knew this letter did not reflect well on him.

The letters also reveal that Menzies gave money to Belle for most of his life, to supplement her income. Pattie Menzies did not approve.

I also discovered a memo Menzies had written after the 1943 election. He knew the UAP was a spent force and that a new party was needed on the centre-right. In this memo, he outlined the structure, philosophy and ethos of the party that would become the Liberal Party in 1944. However, Menzies then thought it should be called the “Liberal Democratic Party”.

In Menzies’ papers I also found unpublished notes and memos about the Suez crisis, how he was awarded a knighthood and his distaste for modern journalism in the 1970s.

  In the Fairfax Media Archive at the State Library of NSW, I found records of regular donations to the Liberal Party in the 1940s that would add up to around $100,000 in today’s value.

And in Billy McMahon’s extensive papers at the National Library – which still remain partly sealed – I discovered a memo he had written about the founding of the Liberal Party. In 1944, a meeting was organised by businessman W.C Robinson and attended by the big media proprietors of the day: Keith Murdoch (H+WT), Frank Packer (ACP), Rupert Henderson (Fairfax). The purpose was to discuss how organisations “on the liberal side of politics” could join together to replace the UAP. Menzies was the only politician invited to attend. He outlined his proposal for a new, which they enthusiastically supported.

Jeparit

But documents can only tell you so much. With my wife, Nicky, and children, Madison and Angus, we visited Jeparit in January this year. Visiting a small, remote, quiet country town some 350 kilometers from Melbourne is what I regard as a great family holiday! Jeparit gave us a unique insight into Menzies.

It is extraordinary that a boy born in the back of the family’s general store in a small country town in 1894 could become prime minister

 – the last born in the nineteenth century.

It is often forgotten that Menzies was not part of the born-to-rule brigade. He was not part of the establishment – indeed his application to join the Melbourne Club was rejected. (Again, it is suggested his non-war service played a part.) The family was not wealthy. Menzies went to school in Ballarat and Melbourne, and to university, by winning scholarships, studying hard and by his determination.

In Jeparit, we visited the site of the family store and the Mechanics’ Institute where Menzies read books, walked up and down Roy and Charles streets, and saw the spire that Menzies unveiled in 1966. We visited the local school where a phrenologist had run his hand over Menzies’ boyhood skull and when he lifted it off, proclaimed that he would become “a barrister and public speaker”. We also visited the largely disused town hall and looked at original records and photos from Menzies’ time, and saw a petition to the governor that Menzies’ father had signed urging him to make Jeparit a town.

It was also important to talk to those who knew Menzies. I conducted several interviews with Menzies’ daughter, Heather Henderson, still sprightly at age 90.

Heather revealed that her mother, Dame Pattie, could make life difficult for her father and that Pattie and Belle “hated one another”.

There are only three ministers left from the Menzies government. It has been a privilege to talk to Doug Anthony and Ian Sinclair – two grand old men of Australian politics – about the Menzies era. Anthony told me that Menzies was consultative in cabinet but could be brutal with ministers who were not across their brief. He also thought Menzies liked to make his ministers look like fools if he thought they deserved it.

Sinclair said to me that Dame Pattie took a close interest in the development of Canberra. She would not hesitate to complain to her husband if she was unhappy if the garbage wasn’t collected, the power went off or the footpaths and roads were not up to scratch. This would be the number one item at cabinet the next day.

Jim Forbes is the only surviving Liberal minister from the Menzies government. The afternoon I spent with him in Adelaide, on the eve of his 95^th birthday last year, is one that I shall also treasure. Forbes remembered that Menzies’ support to ministers in difficulty – like he was in selling national service – was absolute.

“(Menzies) would stick with you,” he said.

Forbes, who was Minister for the Army, recalled very little discussion let alone opposition about the decision to commit troops to Vietnam. He also said the main reason was to show Australia was “a dependable ally” and to “strengthen” the alliance with the United States.

I conducted the last interview with John Carrick – a true gentleman of politics – who gave me unique perspective on Menzies and the Liberal Party in its formative years.

Carrick said that in the 1940s, Menzies had “real enemies” and there were substantial “doubts” about his capacity to lead the party. When Menzies provided state aid to non-government schools, Carrick recalled that he proceeded cautiously. Menzies told him: “I don’t want a war to start”.

I learned a lot by interviewing public servants Lenox Hewitt and Richard Woolcott, who both worked with Menzies. Hewitt, now 101, knew Menzies’ father when they both worked at BHP. Hewitt thought the father-son relationship was somewhat strained but James Menzies was “immensely proud” of Robert.

And his staff, William Heseltine and Tony Eggleton, took me inside the prime minister’s office to illuminate what it was really like. They both admired Menzies greatly, but were frank in their interviews. Heseltine thought Menzies was a very shy person. One of the implications of this was that he tended to criticise people behind their backs. Heseltine said this was “a weakness of character”.

Heseltine said Menzies had a close and admiring relationship with his first deputy, Eric Harrison, but not so much with Harold Holt. Heather Henderson agrees with this.

Heseltine also agreed that the Queen – whom he later worked for as official secretary in Buckingham Palace – was embarrassed by Menzies’ “I did but see her passing by” speech in 1963.

Eggleton had several great anecdotes to share. He said Menzies would always stop his prime ministerial car just before it would reach a destination where Menzies was to speak outside. He would then hop out and Eggleton would liberally apply fly spray on his back so that no flies would distract the audience from listening to his speech.

Eggleton organised Menzies’ farewell press conference, broadcast live on TV to the largest ever viewing audience at that time. He told me that Menzies had insisted on having “a nervous pee” after he left his office and before he walked to the parliamentary dining room and sat down to a live television audience.

Menzies the man

These interviews, documents, and visit to Jeparit, helped me to understand the real man behind the handsome, imposing, dominating public figure. Menzies’ upbringing in Jeparit, the influence of his family, his education, and his time as a lawyer tell the story of a Protestant middle-class boy with gleaming potential and determination.

In state and federal politics, we see another Menzies emerge — filled with ambition and intelligence but held back by poor relations with colleagues. When told by an MP that he did not suffer fools gladly, he replied: “What do you think I’m doing now?” His first prime ministership ended in resignation and rejection. But it led to the formation of the Liberal Party, the development of a new political creed and a pathway back to power.

His lengthy second prime ministership reveals yet another Menzies. We see him grapple with complex issues at home and abroad during a period of political turmoil. He cycled from victory to near-defeat on two occasions, only to consolidate again and again, and retire undefeated.

Menzies always learned from his mistakes – an essential virtue in any successful politician. Menzies was not motivated by an overweening ambition or endowed with a born-to-rule mentality. He thought politics should be a battle of ideas rather than a clash of personalities or political slogans. He cherished friendships on the opposite side of politics, especially with John Curtin and Ben Chifley.

I discovered a remarkable letter Menzies sent to Curtin as he lay sick in bed at The Lodge in mid-1945. Menzies reassured Curtin that Chifley was doing “extremely well” in parliament, asked him not to worry and urged him to rest. Curtin died a week later.

When Chifley died at The Kurrajong Hotel during parliament’s jubilee ball, Menzies interrupted the band and told the party-goers to go home as a mark of respect having lost “a great Australian”.

 Menzies cried that night in Kings Hall and did not care who saw him.

They were remarkable men and their friendships tell us much about an era that is sadly long gone.

Conclusion

We have waited far too long for a new biography of Robert Menzies. I hope readers will have a better understanding of who Menzies really was, what he stood for and what he achieved.

“Study history,” Winston Churchill counselled. “In history lie all the secrets of statecraft.”

Thank you all for coming. I hope you enjoy reading the biography as much as I did writing it.