In early March 1973, a wide-eyed country lad aged 17 took his seat in the old Arts building at Melbourne University for the first lecture in Modern Government 101, delivered by the professor of politics, David Kemp.
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The professor’s smooth voice explained the Australian model of democracy as the creation of seats in parliament based on population. With a 15 to 20 per cent difference in voter numbers seat by seat, some suburban seats were tiny in geographic area while those in outback Australia covered vast regions.
Our democratic model at federal level, he said, hinged on political parties (Liberal, Labor, its breakaway DLP, and the Country Party) offering candidates selected by local party branches, who toured electorates spruiking credentials and opinions via public meetings, local radio stations and newspapers.
The boy from the bush, not yet able to vote, was familiar with Sir John McEwen, who had only retired in 1971, after a remarkable 36 years in parliament. The student could not recall any of the hapless candidates who bothered to stand in the then seat of Indi, with different boundaries to the current Indi. It was the safest Country (now National) Party seat in Australia. Mugshots of McEwen, who had once been a soldier settler, appeared in the local Rushworth Chronicle, as did images and words of the other unlikely candidates.
The professor continued his lecture, saying that after each election, votes were tallied and the party, or pairing of parties, with the most votes was declared elected. The winners would meet to elect their leader and deputy, as would the second-placed opposition party. Each side would identity a leader for the Senate, a different creature of 10 voices per state, the territories not formally represented. Cabinet positions were given to the cream of the successful side, whether from the House or the Senate. The word faction remains hard to find in newspapers of that time.
Parliament would sit and debate; decisions would be taken. Sometimes the opposition would oppose, seeking changes; sometimes a worthy proposal would receive bipartisan support. Reporting would appear in newspapers but no radio or television coverage was undertaken.
Members of parliament went about their tasks with basic assistance. Sir John McEwen had just a secretary to assist him in his office. (After his first wife, Dame Anne, died in 1967, he married Mary, his secretary of 15 years.) Any other assistance came from the public service. Heads of departments were McEwen’s principal eyes and ears, arms and legs, especially within the Department of Trade, as he was the minister for many years. McEwen worked strenuously and achieved open trade agreements with the emerging powerhouse of Japan. No tariffs!
For 23 days in January 1968, the ageing McEwen had a little more assistance, to cope with Liberal Party hopefuls wanting his push for them to succeed Prime Minister Harold Holt, presumed drowned in December of 1967. McEwen was acting as prime minister over the holiday period.
The 1972 federal election in December saw the famous ‘It’s Time’ campaign, an ‘old party’ versus ‘new party’ contest, Labor triumphant, electing Gough Whitlam as prime minister, Jim Cairns as his deputy.
The 1975 election followed the blocking of funding to the Labor government, the sensational sacking of Whitlam, and the election of a coalition of parties led by Malcolm Fraser. Taking a job as a clerk at a polling booth in Essendon, the now 20-year-old university student asked for “your name and address please” before inquiring “have you voted anywhere else today?”, crossing off the voter using ruler and pen (which he might still have). He was startled by an older woman in black rushing up calling loudly, “Want vote Mr Whitlam”. Her struggling awareness of the English language hampered his polite attempt to explain that Mr Whitlam was not actually standing in the seat of Maribyrnong. Whitlam was the only name she knew.
What else has happened to Australian democracy in the 52 years since the lad sat in the lecture theatre?
Elections became bouts of Hawke versus Fraser, Keating versus Hewson, Howard versus Latham (what was Labor thinking?), Turnbull versus Abbott, and Morrison versus Albanese. In the earlier of these contests, other candidates across the country got a look-in. Parties required them to pump the key party messages and the media, in rural areas and in the suburbs, gave them roughly equal space. Not just ministers and shadow ministers were seen and heard. All candidates were given chances to show off their credentials, even the unelectable ratbag fringe.
Today the candidates lie largely hidden. The party spin doctors (most being taxpayer-funded) instruct the MP candidates to lie low, keep their noses clean and let the leaders do the talking. The media is assisted to send representatives around the country in a day-by-day whirl, to pump out coverage of what the two leaders say each day, waiting to pounce on any gaffe. It is as if the entire electorate might vote based on a single verbal error! And can anyone imagine Menzies or Whitlam bothering to comment on an American tourist mis-handling a juvenile wombat?
Voters with better language skills than the 1975 lady in black may be excused for thinking Albanese and Dutton are the only two candidates, based on media coverage. The crushing loss of rural newspapers and regional television news services also contributes to the diminished profile for anyone standing in rural and regional seats. How many voters in the bush will know names of the candidates in their electorate before casting their ballots?
The terrible waste of resources by leaders rushing all over Australia may be the last straw for veteran voters dulled by the political scandals of the past 50 years. Older voters will know the Khemlani loans affair, Jim Cairns and his denied staff dalliance, John Howard’s adherence only to core promises, Bronwyn Bishop’s helicopter junket heading a long list of snouts-in-the-trough, insufficient but plenty of resignations from cabinet for bad behaviour. I dismissed the idea to refresh memory with a search for “Australian political scandals”. This article has space limits.
The “Sports Rorts” on the whiteboard in Ros Kelly’s office sending sport and recreation grants only to marginal electorates should have put pork-barrelling back in butcher shops, but it has only brought a subtle change, as promises are hurled out like confetti to just those electorates seeming to be in the contest. Already disenchanted voters in so-called safe seats must look on in disbelief as much as envy, as the gravy trains roll on, even without a suburban rail link.
Voters are understandably embittered by decades of government waste at the expense of basic health and education services, neglect of roads and bridges, the complete replacement of the public service by so-called advisors on fat salaries and perks in the offices of all MPs, not just for those appointed to cabinet. And politicians wonder why their species is on the nose!
All of the candidates attracting even a pitiful number of votes have a range of election expenses met and a deposit returned. A ‘resettlement allowance’ of $105,00 is actually paid to the poor sitting Senators unable to attract enough votes to be re-elected.
Professor Kemp’s explanation of ‘modern government’ in Australia is a distant memory as we endure United States presidential-style leader versus leader contests where personal abuse and integrity allegations are rife, thanks to paid advisors researching nothing but dirt from years past. While political parties in Australia once elected their leaders to the top office, it now seems to be the media pressing all voters to somehow elect a leader.
Are candidates other than Albanese and Dutton hoping to win a seat? How many voters can name six ministers and their portfolios? Even fewer voters would get close to six shadow ministers.
How will the former university student vote in 2025? I’m not telling. About the only thing left of the professor’s 1973 model of Australian democracy is the secrecy of the ballot.
(Footnote: Professor Kemp left the university, elected to represent Goldstein electorate for the Liberal Party from 1990 to 2004. Appropriately, for some of that time he was minister for education.)
Alan McLean | Queenscliff
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