8th February 1999
A year on since the Constitutional Convention, and we¹ve come to this, I mused, as I sat in at the opening of the Yes Coalition Convention and waited for the show to start.
Exactly a year ago, for ten glorious, passionate, emotional days, Old Parliament House in Canberra hosted the Constitutional Convention. The ancient wood-panelled Reps chamber came alive once again, a fitting setting for the often fiery debate that saw a republican model emerge to be put to the people in a referendum.
We have nine months to go, a looming gestation, and the republicans came together this weekend to conceive their campaign. Canberra¹s Convention Centre is a generation or two away from the fusty old halls over the lake, but it lacks the magic, the charm, the grandeur, that made the 1988 Constitutional Convention such a marvellous show that you couldn¹t keep people from tuning in in their millions and turning up in thousands for a chance to spend a few minutes in the public gallery.
I wanted to bottle up the atmosphere at the Constitutional Convention and take it home with me, but this nondescript theatre with its painted cement walls, industrial-strength carpet, exposed airconditioning ducts and plastic chairs was more likely to make me want to fill a bucket.
Still, one cannot judge a book by its cover, and with many of the same figures back in Canberra, meeting and greeting as they filed in, I looked forward to the day¹s program.
First up were the parliamentary republicans, and it was almost worth the price of admission to see Natasha Stott-Despoja and Amanda Vanstone sitting side by side swapping idle banter and appearing to enjoy it. They are at each other¹s throats in the Senate, but here they were smiling and chatting together. The republic makes strange bedfellows, I pondered, and set that thought aside for later.
Janet Holmes a¹Court later spoke about five P¹s that defined the campaign for a republican movement -- Passion, Pride, Persuasion, Positivity and Pulling Together. There was enough of the latter here to fill a bucket, I thought, but there were two other P¹s that didn¹t get a mention.
Politics was a biggie. Kate Carnell, Amanda, Natasha and some Labor hack spoke with feeling, skill and years of experience, giving the audience what they paid for. Kate and Natasha were democratic-election republicans hitching a ride on the political-appointment bandwagon and appealing to their constituents, the ALP bloke did what he was told and followed the party line, but Mandy, coming from a party led by a confirmed monarchist, had to be more diplomatic and courageous.
Make no mistake, this is a political struggle, and the politicians are most at home here -- cutting deals, trading favours, following the polls and judging the effect on the voters. Nowadays, when the Canberra Press Gallery write a story on the republic, they turn to Kim Beazley and Peter Costello, and the coming referendum will be as much about party politics as anything else.
The Liberal Party has been given a free hand in expressing their feelings and they range from those who sing God Save the Queen in private to those who want a republic and want it now, if not five or ten years ago. Many, of course, affirm that they are in favour of a republic, just not the same one that the ALP wants. Amanda Vanstone has gone so far out on a limb by publicly supporting the camel that came out of the Constitutional Convention that you can hear the branch creaking. And the polls weren¹t looking good -- a recent Newspoll showed that republican support had dropped to 48% and for the models themselves, 38% wanted no change, 37% favoured democratic election, 19% supported the Camel and 6% were undecided.
After the political platitudes (and a private media session for the reptiles of the press), we were treated to the real heavyweights. I wondered how Malcolm Turnbull was going to retrieve the situation after a year of continuing bad news for republicans -- certainly when I last saw him on Australia Day he was looking decidedly dejected.
He opened with a surprise. The polls were upbeat, and he quoted figures that showed that the Camel¹s support was nearly 60% and for the monarchy only a bit over 30%. Moreover, he reckoned that in every state in Australia, the republic would win. All republicans had to do was stick to their guns and stick to the key messages and the prize would be theirs. These messages needed to be properly articulated and emphasised -- I¹d repeat them, but I suspect that we are going to be all too familiar with them via flashy advertising before too long as the voting public bears the full brunt of the emphasis and proper articulation.
There was another surprise. Far from being the disunited, dissenting, diverse group we had seen at the Convention, republicans were a model of unity. Those supporting a Yes vote were united -- those opting for No hopelessly divided, with monarchists and democratic-election republicans in bed together.
This was our last chance to get a republic, he warned -- blow it this time and we might never get another go.
Neville Wran and Janet Holmes a¹Court spoke next -- more good stuff to feed the troops. Nifty Nev is the consummate Labor politician and he used humour and plain speaking to good effect, skills honed to perfection in the rough and tumble of the NSW ALP Right. Ms Holmes a¹Court gave us more of the plain common sense that made her a star at the convention.
There was one thing becoming apparent -- pride and passion were here in bucketloads. The audience didn¹t need to be whipped into a frenzy -- they¹d made their decision years ago, they wanted a republic, they wanted it now and anything that could give them victory over the hated monarchists drew cheers and applause. Some of these people wanted the chap who executed Charles I brought back for a second swing at the Queen, I reckoned.
But the messages now were different. The monarchists were no longer the enemy, a string of speakers told us. The republicans favouring democratic election were the spoilers, the losers, the rats in the pantry. Ted Mack, Clem Jones, Phil Cleary were spoken of in tones dripping with venom. Popular election of a president was the False Grail that could decoy and derail the republic. If they were able to push their key messages, messages of admitted power and frightening simplicity, then all the effort might be in vain, and we¹d die a part of the British Empire.
After lunch was the turn of the constitutional lawyers, men who loved Edmund Barton and Alfred Deakin as brothers, men who knew what a placitum was, men who spoke with authority as well as power.
The guts of the argument is that democratic election of a president, like they have in other countries, is constitutionally very difficult, if not impossible, and it would inevitably give us a politician in the top job. Whilst I don¹t doubt this for a moment, I wonder just how the constitutional arguments can be got across to the voters, and how easily they can be negated with a slogan or two.
To my mind, one of the many blunders committed by Malcolm Turnbull a year ago was his insistence that the title of head of state should be called a President rather than remain the Governor-General. People can accept a Governor-General appointed by Parliament, but they want to vote for a President. There is no middle ground -- an elected Governor-General, an appointed President, both ring false.
The final session was more passion. The Reverend Tim Costello, a preacher used to stirring a congregation, had the women swooning. Gatjil Djerrkura, the head of ATSIC, spoke movingly of how the republic campaign was a search for self-determination, echoing the struggle of indigenous people. And the day was brought to a close by the brilliant young lawyer Jason Yet-Sen Li, who drew cheers from the younger members of the mostly middle-aged audience. If passion were votes, then Australia would be swept over the line on the froth.
Gatjil¹s call for a preamble recognising indigenous people was well received. Very well received. Yet he was at odds with Malcolm Turnbull, who doesn¹t want to dilute his key messages by making the preamble an issue. Votes may be lost at the referendum, and Turnbull has sold his soul for a win. He doesn¹t want Aboriginal Australians getting in the way, he doesn¹t want democratic election republicans raining on his parade, and he doesn¹t want the faults of the Camel being pointed out.
Which brings me to another big P. Prejudice. A republic at any price. The very first question from the floor came from a chap who brandished a copy of The University of New South Wales Law Journal, where a line up of prominent republicans came up with over fifty criticisms of the Constitutional Convention¹s Camel. ³Flawed², ³Unworkable², ³Futile², ³Vital Structural Weakness², ³A Disaster for Australia², ³A Weak Model for Australia² -- these were some of the criticisms, explained in full by people such as Professor George Winterton, Cheryl Saunders, Greg Craven, Mike Steketee and Jason Yat-Sen Li. (Available on the web at ³http://www.law.unsw.edu.au/unswlj/thematic/index.html².)
The question was brushed aside with a glib answer, but you may be sure that both monarchists and democratic-election republicans will be asking the same questions, asking for explanations of the flaws, asking for a better way.
Malcolm Turnbull¹s response to these sort of questions has been to grease himself up and slide aside into attacking other models. If someone questions the constitutional quick draw of his model, where President and Prime Minister may dismiss each other with a note, he doesn¹t defend it, but points out that the current system is almost as bad. He did this time and time again -- I don¹t know what message he thinks he is putting across, but the one I received was that he doesn¹t like the model he is promoting, but if its flaws can be hidden or brushed aside then maybe enough people will vote for it out of sheer desperation because they won¹t get another chance to vote for anything else.
It seems to me that the best thing that the Yes Coalition could do for itself is to pack off Malcolm Turnbull on a year-long study tour overseas, preferably to a place where there are no microphones or television cameras. He is too arrogant, too smarmy, too economical with the truth for his own good. He is not the professional politician like Neville Wran, he is not the pragmatic business person like Janet Holmes a¹Court and he is not speaking from the heart like Gatjil Djerrkura. He is a lawyer, a merchant banker, a person who wants to tell people what to think, what to do and how to vote. And it shows.
In the media conference following, Turnbull ducked and weaved. The republicans weren¹t united, were they? Maybe not, he admitted, but those pushing for a Yes vote were all solidly united. Why then did many of the questions from the audience come from people who identified themselves as reluctant converts to the Yes case? Ahh, but they were all united in their support, weren¹t they?
Sorry, Mr Turnbull, but this is not good enough. If those pushing for a Yes vote are united, then so too are those supporting a No vote. The truth is that republicans are divided, hopelessly divided and squabbling among themselves. In every referendum since Federation, the mere existence of a strong No lobby has been enough to guarantee defeat. Only where there is bipartisan support, the arguments in favour have been convincing, and there has been little or no opposition, has a referendum got up. Let¹s face it, these are the same Australian voters who rejected Fair Elections in 1988 and Democratic Elections in 1974.
I don¹t know where Turnbull got his poll figures from. I suspect that he pulled them out of his bum, or possibly commissioned a poll for the express purpose of inspiring the people he needs to fund a republic campaign. Poll after poll, the real ones published in the papers, have shown that where voters want a republic, they want to elect the president.
Turnbull¹s whole approach is dedicated, not to leading the people where they already want to go, but to telling them what to do. Certainly there is a feeling that the Queen has lost her appeal, and many monarchists would be happy to remove her from our Australian affairs but retain her as Head of the Commonwealth.
The simple answer is to minimise change, remove the Queen with a few precise constitutional strokes, recognise the Governor-General as our resident Australian Head of State, and leave further change for another day.
But if we are to have a president, then we have to vote for him. And that takes a lot more effort and constitutional change.
It is beyond belief that this referendum in November is our one and only chance at a republic. John Howard is not going to last more than a few more years -- both of his likely successors of Peter Costello or Kim Beazley are republicans and they will undoubtedly find a way to bring in a republic.
Yet if we vote Yes in November, we will be voting for a flawed model that is quite probably the end of the matter. Who believes that if the Prime Minister and Parliament gain control over the nomination, appointment and dismissal of a president, that they will ever relinquish that power to the people? Our constitutional history has been one of steady concentration of power in the hands of the political parties in Canberra -- no Prime Minister in his right mind is going to push for a democratic election model that will see his power diluted and rivalled by someone with an undoubted mandate directly from the people.
Malcolm Turnbull is trying to sell his republican model like a hamburger. A few slogans, a few key messages, a lot of money. Yet he is deluding not only himself, but the republican supporters so full of passion, and the wider Australian public. We can do better than the Camel.
Republican models are like buses -- there will be another one along in a couple of minutes. And the voters don¹t like being told how they should vote -- they know they have the power and they will exercise it as they see fit.
So far, we don¹t have a republican model that has wide popular support. Like a new flag, we have a lot of people wanting a change, but they haven¹t yet seen anything that stirs the emotions. Unlike the America¹s Cup win, an event which gripped the nation, the republic leaves most people cold. Dedicated republicans are like pigeon fanciers or Peugeot drivers, fine people, and passionate about their interests, but mildly irritating to ordinary people.
I¹ll jump on the republican bus when the right one comes along, but I know that my bus isn¹t the one driven by a merchant banker, full of power figures clinking their chardonnay glasses. My bus is the one with the lights flashing, horn blaring, full of cheering, shouting, singing Australians, ordinary people who will chuck me a tinnie and wrap their arms around my shoulders in happy mateship.
There¹s something wrong with Malcolm Turnbull and his Yes Coalition. Something that doesn¹t ring true. Just up the road from the Convention Centre, The Republic restaurant, a fine establishment, stood empty last night. Yet the republican conventioneers were tucking into caterer¹s food in (get this) the Royal Theatre! And where doubtless, like elephants, the chardonnay came in buckets.
Peter Mackay
Canberra
7 February 1999
Unless you want a Parliament appointed dictator like Keating, then vote NO in November. Becaues you will get an Elite that would not recieve votes from the people will be appointed. Perhaps someone like Racker or some other "Oneworld Promoter", will be our president.
Peter S