Across many Labor households, you were either Bob Hawke or Paul Keating disciples. Such was the bitterness of their feud during the 1991 ALP leadership spills, families were left feeling they had to choose.
Mr Keating gained our admiration; the great economic reformer and man of merely a high school education who donned bespoke Italian suits and believed classical music to be the one true artform. He remains a contradiction.
Mr Hawke was a consensus leader, the problem solver, who brought Australians and his Cabinet together. He was Australia’s Chairman of the Board.
But if truth be told, and even though vastly different, they were at their best together. Bob Hawke, the popular, charismatic, easy in a crowd leader of people, yet with significant flaws and Paul Keating, with arrogance, one of the last who could convince and explain difficult economic concepts.
Their collective achievements were numerous, and they changed Australian forever. The Accord; bringing the political and union wings of the ALP together in an effort to deliver for workers and the economy, deregulation and floating the Australian dollar, Medicare, standing-up against apartheid, accepting Chinese students embroiled in the aftermath of the Tienanmen Square massacre, engaging with Asia, and closer to home highlighting the challenges facing aboriginal communities, saving the Franklin River and assuming responsibility for World Heritage, they delivered an unquestionable legacy.
Close to death, Mr Hawke knew, he felt content; having achieved what needed to be done. A life well-lived.
My first interaction, at a distance, with Bob Hawke occurred in the wee hours of the 26 September 1983. The last boat, of any significance, my parents had journeyed brought them from England to Australia in 1971. My brother and I were woken by our late father, before school, to watch Australia ii defeat the New York Yacht Club’s Liberty at New Port, Rhode Island to win the America’s Cup in the final race of the series. We were triumphant and although without any knowledge of the race’s history, a healthy love of winning fostered by dad’s disdain for the Americans left an indelible mark. We had no knowledge nor contact with yachts nor boats, not even a canoe, but we still waxed lyrical for years about the genius of a winged keel.
The irony of migrant Scotsman singer/songwriter, Colin Hay and his band Men at Work, composing a pseudo national anthem - Down Under; a working-class tune which became the song of a generation, forever linked to an elitist yacht race, is not lost on me today.
Australia, still at times thought as insular, grew-up during the 1980’s and that appealed greatly to those not born in our country. For migrants of hardship searching for a better life or those who had witnessed great sorrow and humans at their worst, Mr Hawke spoke to them. He brought people together. Thus, it remains difficult to fathom a Prime Minister with an approval rating of 70 per cent.
But it wasn’t just Bob Hawke or Paul Keating; it was their team and their teamwork. And one must never forget the leadership and legacy left by the late Hazel Hawke who sacrificed far more to fulfill her husband’s ambition. Politics can be brutal, and it rarely ends well. Consequently, Bob Hawke did not choose his leaving.
Mr Hawke rolled past me last year at Canberra Airport, assisted by staff. He was composed, but frail and small. Respectfully dressed in suit and tie, with polished shoes, his hands resting on a walking stick. Heads turned, slowing to acknowledge, his presence unquestionable. I was desperate to say hello and thank you, but out of respect, I didn’t think he should be bothered.
Just last week, when I saw the photo in the Age Newspaper of Mr Hawke and Mr Keating together, I felt a strange sense of relief. At peace. I hope they did too. Katie asked me why I purchased a printed newspaper, I showed her the front page. No further words were uttered.
Robert James Lee Hawke was a bloke you knew, even if you had never met. I am saddened by his passing and have not witnessed such an outpouring of public grief and mourning from all walks of life and political persuasions. Revered in life, revered in death. Far from perfect, far from patient.
Vale Bob. A giant.
Mr Keating gained our admiration; the great economic reformer and man of merely a high school education who donned bespoke Italian suits and believed classical music to be the one true artform. He remains a contradiction.
Mr Hawke was a consensus leader, the problem solver, who brought Australians and his Cabinet together. He was Australia’s Chairman of the Board.
But if truth be told, and even though vastly different, they were at their best together. Bob Hawke, the popular, charismatic, easy in a crowd leader of people, yet with significant flaws and Paul Keating, with arrogance, one of the last who could convince and explain difficult economic concepts.
Their collective achievements were numerous, and they changed Australian forever. The Accord; bringing the political and union wings of the ALP together in an effort to deliver for workers and the economy, deregulation and floating the Australian dollar, Medicare, standing-up against apartheid, accepting Chinese students embroiled in the aftermath of the Tienanmen Square massacre, engaging with Asia, and closer to home highlighting the challenges facing aboriginal communities, saving the Franklin River and assuming responsibility for World Heritage, they delivered an unquestionable legacy.
Close to death, Mr Hawke knew, he felt content; having achieved what needed to be done. A life well-lived.
My first interaction, at a distance, with Bob Hawke occurred in the wee hours of the 26 September 1983. The last boat, of any significance, my parents had journeyed brought them from England to Australia in 1971. My brother and I were woken by our late father, before school, to watch Australia ii defeat the New York Yacht Club’s Liberty at New Port, Rhode Island to win the America’s Cup in the final race of the series. We were triumphant and although without any knowledge of the race’s history, a healthy love of winning fostered by dad’s disdain for the Americans left an indelible mark. We had no knowledge nor contact with yachts nor boats, not even a canoe, but we still waxed lyrical for years about the genius of a winged keel.
The irony of migrant Scotsman singer/songwriter, Colin Hay and his band Men at Work, composing a pseudo national anthem - Down Under; a working-class tune which became the song of a generation, forever linked to an elitist yacht race, is not lost on me today.
Australia, still at times thought as insular, grew-up during the 1980’s and that appealed greatly to those not born in our country. For migrants of hardship searching for a better life or those who had witnessed great sorrow and humans at their worst, Mr Hawke spoke to them. He brought people together. Thus, it remains difficult to fathom a Prime Minister with an approval rating of 70 per cent.
But it wasn’t just Bob Hawke or Paul Keating; it was their team and their teamwork. And one must never forget the leadership and legacy left by the late Hazel Hawke who sacrificed far more to fulfill her husband’s ambition. Politics can be brutal, and it rarely ends well. Consequently, Bob Hawke did not choose his leaving.
Mr Hawke rolled past me last year at Canberra Airport, assisted by staff. He was composed, but frail and small. Respectfully dressed in suit and tie, with polished shoes, his hands resting on a walking stick. Heads turned, slowing to acknowledge, his presence unquestionable. I was desperate to say hello and thank you, but out of respect, I didn’t think he should be bothered.
Just last week, when I saw the photo in the Age Newspaper of Mr Hawke and Mr Keating together, I felt a strange sense of relief. At peace. I hope they did too. Katie asked me why I purchased a printed newspaper, I showed her the front page. No further words were uttered.
Robert James Lee Hawke was a bloke you knew, even if you had never met. I am saddened by his passing and have not witnessed such an outpouring of public grief and mourning from all walks of life and political persuasions. Revered in life, revered in death. Far from perfect, far from patient.
Vale Bob. A giant.
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