Gough Whitlam’s Legacy – What worked; What Didn’t

The Whitlam Governments – from December 1972 to November 1975 – led a reform revolution in many areas, from education and health to the environment and foreign policy. But alongside the great achievements were great failures and, ultimately, great tragedy when the government was dismissed. On Wednesday 11 December, The Sydney Institute brought together four of the contributors to the recently released The Whitlam Legacy to discuss the impact of Gough Whitlam’s time in power. Troy Bramston, a columnist with The Australian and contributing editor of The Whitlam Legacy, joined former Labor minister Susan Ryan AO, The Sydney Institute’s Gerard Henderson and John O’Mahony, Deloitte Access Economics Director and former economics advisor to Kevin Rudd and Julia Gillard, in this review of the Whitlam years.

THE WHITLAM LEGACY

TROY BRAMSTON

It is great to be back at The Sydney Institute – one of the pre-eminent forums for public discussion and debate in Australia.

I was born in the month after the dismissal of the Whitlam Government in November 1975.

My interest in politics and public policy was sparked during the governments of Bob Hawke (when I was in school) and Paul Keating (when I was at university). Hawke and Keating were the very model of a modern Labor government. They led a very different government from the Whitlam government.

When Susan Ryan and I were compiling and editing our book, The Hawke Government: A Critical Retrospective, she often told me that there was no place for an “unreconstructed Whitlamite” in the Hawke government. Hawke himself told me that he had “witnessed the absolute chaos at the way the Whitlam government had operated.”

For modern Labor, Whitlam was not to be emulated nor elevated to greatness – even though many true believers still yearned for a Whitlam-style government of energy, inspiration and reform. Yet, the Whitlam government is impossible to ignore. How Whitlam rose through the ranks of the Labor Party to become leader, how the government came to power after 23 years in opposition, how it governed, what it achieved, where it failed and how it all ended … remains an endlessly fascinating subject.

The legacy

Four decades since Labor’s election victory in December 1972, the Whitlam legacy looms large over Australia. It is the central reason why I compiled, contributed to and edited this book. Frankly, it’s time to bust the myths that percolate through the political discourse about Whitlam and his three-year government, from 1972 to 1975.

Whitlam was not the “worst” Prime Minister Australia ever had. That honour must surely go to the hapless Billy McMahon. Nor did his government arrive in a burst of excitement and energy, only to see its hopes dashed and its record marked by underachievement. I argue that the legacy extends to three key areas: first, the rebirth of Labor in the late 1960s, second, the way politics is practised in the modern era, and third, to almost every area of public policy. Let me explain each of these things.

Labor

When Gough took the helm of the Labor Party in 1967, it had suffered a string of defeats. The party was out of touch. It was unrepresentative and unimaginative. Gough’s crusade to reform the party’s structure and refresh its policies saved it from electoral oblivion. If Gough did not wrest the leadership from Arthur Calwell in 1967, the party would have tolerated another election led by its ageing leader in 1969.

Alternatively, the party could have chosen as leader: either Kim Beazley Snr, Jim Cairns, Frank Crean, Fred Daly or Allan Fraser. Each of them would at some point seek to lead Labor. But none of them would have led a crusade to reform the party. It is doubtful if they would have led Labor back to government, or if they did, implement such a far-reaching program of reform – against so much opposition.

Indeed, there was nothing inevitable about a Whitlam-led Labor Party. He was seen by many in the party as an outsider … too ambitious, too impetuous, too over-confident. He was, some said, “not a Labor man”. He was not working class. When he attended his first caucus meeting in 1953, he was a young man in an old man’s party.

He was not backed by the Labor machine, the unions or supported by a faction. Yet he ascended to the leadership, held it against the odds, and saved the Labor Party. Hawke and Keating have acknowledged that he paved the way for their success in the 1980s and 1990s.

As Paul Keating said on the twentieth anniversary of the 1972 election:

I am here tonight as the leader of the Labor Party, as the Prime Minister, as Bob was here in … the 1980s, we are here because of what Gough was able to do in making Labor relevant again.

Politics

Gough’s emergence as a national political leader in the early 1960s – when he became deputy Labor leader and then leader – coincided with the dawn of modern politics: using television to its full potential, professional advertising, detailed market research, and highly sophisticated campaigning. These tools are fundamental to success in politics today … and Whitlam, and the party he led, was the first to master them all.

Policy

On the evening of 13 November 1972, Gough Whitlam stood on the stage of the Bowman Hall at the Blacktown Civic Centre, looked out to an audience bursting with expectation, and outlined the most sweeping policy manifesto ever presented to voters. No party had ever advocated such a broad plan for reform nor has a party received a mandate to implement one.

In contrast, Liberal Prime Minister Billy McMahon delivered his campaign speech seated behind a desk in a television studio with no audience. One journalist (Allan Barnes) said McMahon’s speech would “have encouraged a lot of housewives to take up the opportunity to do the washing up, while Dad put out the garbage bin and milk bottles”.

Despite the turbulent 1,072 days of the Whitlam Government, and the hostility to the agenda it sought to implement, almost all of what was promised was achieved. Indeed, the policy legacy of the Whitlam government endures … universal healthcare. needs-based schools funding, and the reorientation of foreign policy, including recognising China. The legal reforms are also significant: lowering the voting age to 18, introducing Territory senators, one-vote, one-value electoral laws, the abolition of the death penalty, no-fault divorce,

legal aid, and removing the last vestiges of the White Australia policy from Australia’s immigration laws.

These policies – and more – are now part of the bipartisan policy settlement. But many of these policy shifts were vehemently opposed at the time. Others look to are: the Whitlam government’s complete withdrawal of forces from Vietnam, the abolition of conscription and the freeing of conscientious objectors. Or the introduction of a new honours system, abolishing university fees, a new national anthem, the encouragement given to the arts or sewering the suburbs.

Although abolishing tariffs and reforming trade practices were important economic reforms, the failure to curb spending was a grave error of judgment. And we must acknowledge the scandals, the administrative chaos, the often poisonous caucus-cabinet relationship, and the relentless drive to implement a reform agenda, sometimes regardless the cost. But these things must not be allowed to obscure the landmark achievements.

As Teddy White said about Franklin Roosevelt: “(He) understood his times (and) at the historic intersections, he took the fork in the road that proved to be correct.”

The book

There is no shortage of books about Gough Whitlam or the Whitlam government. As Gough said when launching his own book, The Whitlam Government, in 1985: “For a number of years … the Whitlam book industry was our largest growth industry – after tax avoidance.”

Inevitably, accounts of the Whitlam Government have focused more on its destruction than what it delivered.

Because of the focus on the dismissal rather than the breadth of the government’s achievements and a frank assessment of its failures, I felt it was time to examine the Whitlam era in a new book. And I wanted to hear from the people who were there: ministers, staff, public servants and journalists … and balance these with academic contributions and those of contemporary commentators.

The book is no whitewash. There are admirers, detractors and scrupulously impartial observers. Everything is covered: from policy and personalities, to administration, media, and elections and, of course, the dismissal of the government on 11 November 1975.

The Dismissal

Indeed, this book includes a number of new revelations about the dismissal. Let me mention a few.

Paul Kelly and I looked at Governor-General John Kerr’s recently released personal papers in the National Archives. We drew sharply different conclusions from Jenny Hocking in her Whitlam biography. Her claim that Kerr knew “in advance” the response of the Palace to the dismissal is not justified.

In fact, the Palace advised Kerr they would accept his recall – his deepest fear – if Whitlam moved to have him sacked. It is this advice that led Kerr to plan his actions, as he said, by “stealth”.

Second, Hocking revealed the extent of the role of High Court justice Anthony Mason in advising Kerr. Mason’s role was known, but not the extent of it. However, we discovered additional notes in Kerr’s papers that reveal his constant need for reassurance … and his reliance on the advice of Chief Justice Garfield Barwick and opposition frontbencher Bob Ellicott. Kerr also implicates another High Court judge, Ninian Stephen, with having prior knowledge of the dismissal. This was not mentioned by Hocking.

Third, we found two notes written by Barwick that reveal previously undisclosed contact between the Governor-General and the Chief Justice. They reveal how Kerr advised Barwick on the letter he was to write offering formal advice. And we revealed that they discussed how Whitlam should be handled on November 11 when hearing his commission had been terminated.

When I discussed this with Malcolm Fraser in April 2013 – the ultimate beneficiary of the dismissal – he said:

I think the Governor-General is probably entitled to ask for advice. Whether it is appropriate for the Chief Justice to give advice might be regarded as another thing, but that is for the Chief Justice. But for the Governor-General to suggest to the Chief Justice what should be in the letter, if he was going to write a letter, was totally inappropriate.

He added Kerr was “a lonely man” who “wanted reassurance for what he believed had to happen” and “was concerned about his place in history”.

Fourth, Kelly and I were given the first look at a transcript of Kerr’s 1970s oral history with the National Library. It shows that Kerr was repeatedly approached to become a Liberal MP

– indeed thought he could be prime minister – flirted with the Democratic Labour Party,

idolised Barwick, thought deeply about the exercise of the reserve powers and had grown distrustful of Whitlam. It underscores the obvious point: that Kerr was perhaps the single most unsuitable person Whitlam could have selected to be Governor-General.

Fifth, we revealed that solicitor-general Maurice Byers and the head of the Attorney-General’s Department, Clarence Harders, told Kerr on 11 November 1975, and a week later, that his use of the reserve power was not justified. This worried Kerr, and Fraser, and threatened to unravel the dismissal on the afternoon of 11 November.

Finally, Kerr’s draft statement of reasons for the dismissal is published in the book. It shows that Kerr wanted Fraser to accept “full political responsibility” for the dismissal of the PM – perhaps implying that Fraser had prior knowledge – but excised these words from the final version.

Me and Gough

It has been my privilege to meet and talk with Gough many times over the past 20 years, including as recently as a two weeks ago. On one visit in 2010, Gough told me that he would have resigned as Labor leader in the 1960s if his mission to reform the party had failed. He also told me that he had met Ben Chifley after he had delivered the “light on the hill” speech at the Trades Hall in Sydney in 1949.

The parallels are irresistible: the person who would follow Chifley as the next Labor prime minister was seated in the audience when he delivered Labor’s most famous speech. It is a story that has eluded biographers and historians. There really is nobody like him. He is larger than life. He combined courage, intellect and imagination.

As Robert Menzies told Jim Killen in the 1960s: “That fellow Whitlam will lead the Labor Party one day. It won’t be dull.” And it wasn’t. When he became prime minister it often seemed like he was the government. It prompted one journalist to ask him: “What would happen to the government if you fell under a bus tomorrow?” Gough replied: “With the improvements my government has initiated in urban transport, that is unlikely to happen.” When asked how he shall treat his Maker when they eventually meet, Gough said: “I shall treat him as an equal.”

Gough’s foreword

Today, Gough is 97. He can be found in his Sydney office a few days each week.

He lives in a nursing home. He has a loving family and attentive staff, and he occasionally sees old colleagues. He no longer consents to interviews, delivers stem-winding orations or offers comments on politics.

But … in a foreword to the book, Gough offers a “valedictory” message to the party he led in government and opposition for 11 years. He instructs Labor to learn the lessons of history – its achievements and failures – and apply these to developing policies that have a “contemporary relevance” for voters.

But Gough’s key message is to “never forget the primacy of parliament as the great forum for developing, presenting and articulating policy.” Written during the final year of Julia Gillard’s Government – amid broken promises, poor judgment and spirited parliamentary clashes – Whitlam’s message contains a powerful truth that cannot be ignored.

Conclusion: crash through or crash

Let me conclude by tackling one final myth. It is often argued that there was another way … that Whitlam’s “crash through or crash” style was an indulgence that inevitably cost Labor power. But, given the forces hostile to Whitlam’s reform agenda – inside the Labor Party, among the conservative parties, and in elements of the media – there really was no other way.

Without Whitlam, it is doubtful whether Labor would have survived as a viable political force or that Australia would have been so profoundly remade. The Whitlam Legacy endures because Gough understood what politics is fundamentally about: leadership.