I begin by acknowledging the traditional owners of the land on which we meet and I pay my respect to elders past, present and emerging.
I acknowledge all our distinguished guests.
Including members of the Whitlam family.
And everyone who was in this very building fifty years ago – as members of Parliament, staffers, journalists.
On the 11th of November 1975, I was in Year 7.
Our history teacher, Mr Vince Crow, burst into our classroom and said:
“Our government has been dismissed.”
Our Government.
Catholic schools always had a powerful sense of social justice.
Tomorrow, this grand old building will host an extraordinary program of reflections from historians, journalists, constitutional experts, former Prime Ministers Keating and Howard and even the Governor General.
Something that would have seemed somewhat unlikely half a century ago.
It is hard to imagine any other event in Australian political history that could inspire such a combination of analysis, debate, passion and affection, even at a distance of 50 years.
That speaks for the earthquake effect of the Dismissal and its aftershocks.
But it also points to the stature and significance of the Government and the Prime Minister it brought down.
What I remember most of all from those days is the sense of dismay.
All the Labor faithful who had endured those 23 years in the political wilderness.
All those true believers who had celebrated the ‘It’s Time’ victory less than three years earlier.
And all who had been inspired and energised by the change the Whitlam Government had brought to Australia.
After years of drift, a new sense of confidence and purpose and ambition.
A new sense of a distinctly, proudly Australian identity.
More equal, more open, more at home in our region, more comfortable with ourselves.
And a deeper belief in our people’s capacity.
In the understanding that for our nation to be our best, every Australian had to have the opportunity to be their best.
Running through all of that, a new sense of the power of a positive, reforming Government to redefine a nation.
To treat its democratic mandate, in Gough’s words:
‘not as permission to preside…but as a command to perform’.
And, in doing so, shine the Commonwealth spotlight on people and communities and causes that had been forgotten or ignored for so long.
For so many of us, this was the first Australian government in our lifetimes that reflected our values and championed our aspirations.
Which is why so many of us felt like my history teacher, that this was our government.
And – for all the constitutional and political and legal arguments that prove the injustice of the Dismissal – in the end it also felt personal.
That somehow, the old suffocating conservatism so many had imagined defeated for good in December 1972 had reached out of its political grave to drag down a democratically-elected Government.
None of this is to say Gough Whitlam or the Government he led was perfect.
No Government is.
But it commanded a majority in the House of Representatives - and it had nearly two years of its term still to run.
And in those circumstances, the decision as to when to call an election should belong to the Prime Minister.
Not the Opposition, not the Governor General.
And in precisely the same way, the choice as to whether a new government is formed, belongs to the people of Australia.
Make no mistake: November 11th 1975 was not a ‘constitutional crisis’ - it was a partisan political ambush.
There was no real precedent – and no legitimate pretext.
The Opposition orchestrated a parliamentary gridlock over the Budget and then secretly prevailed upon the Governor General to break it, by sacking the Prime Minister.
Sir John Kerr justified his actions on the basis of incorrect advice from Chief Justice Barwick, improperly given.
But in truth, the Opposition had preyed upon Sir John Kerr’s desire to be at the centre of events.
And they had cultivated his paranoia, his fear that Whitlam was planning to replace him.
They were aided in their actions by the Prime Minister’s unshakeable belief - right up until the moment he was handed his letter of dismissal – that Kerr was a proper person, who would do the right thing.
While the scenes in this building on 11 November may have been chaotic.
The Dismissal was a calculated plot, hatched by conservative forces which sacrificed conventions and institutions in the pursuit of power.
And the result of the election that followed does not wash any of that away.
Behind all the various schemes and subplots that will be unpacked and revisited tomorrow lies an overt refusal to respect the mandate or even acknowledge the legitimacy of a Labor Government that had secured a majority in two consecutive federal elections inside three years.
That was the essential argument Gough made in his contributions to the parliamentary debate on the Supply Bills.
And it was the case he put with such intellectual force in his book, The Truth of the Matter.
I had the honour of being asked to contribute a preface to this year’s anniversary edition.
And as someone who has served in the Parliament for nearly 30 years, I can say that Gough’s book is the most eloquent tribute to the democratic primacy of the House of Representatives and its role as the people’s house that I have ever encountered.
And from that, all of us can take great heart.
Because after everything, Gough Whitlam retained a deep faith in our democracy.
He remained a profound optimist – about what our democracy could endure but also what it could achieve.
He maintained his enthusiasm.
He retained his respect for the wisdom and the aspirations of the Australian people.
And, in a remarkable lesson to anyone in public life who might be tempted to hold on to resentment or bitterness he rebuilt a friendship with Malcolm Fraser.
When we think of those two giants now, we remember them campaigning for a Republic together.
Or we picture that line up of former prime ministers on the morning of the National Apology to the Stolen Generations, with Gough’s hand resting on Malcolm’s shoulder.
Friends
The speech Gough Whitlam delivered on the steps of this building fifty years ago tomorrow was only 149 words long.
Ever the institutionalist, he later said to Niki Savva:
“That was the best speech I ever gave in this place and it’s not even in Hansard.”
That extraordinary scene might not be in the parliamentary record.
But as a moment in the life of our nation, our parliament, our politics and our democracy it deserves permanent commemoration.
Tonight I announce our Government will commission a statue of Gough Whitlam.
This new statue will stand not just for the immortal words Gough uttered on that day.
More importantly, it will honour all that he achieved in this place.
And in doing so, it will celebrate the enduring power of our democracy to change our nation for the better.
It will be a worthy and timely addition to the statues of leaders and trailblazers which adorn our national capital: Barton, Menzies, Curtin and Chifley, Lyons and Tangney, McEwen, Gorton and Bonner.
Gough Whitlam belongs in their company – and he belongs here, at the democratic institution he both revered and commanded.
In Graham Freudenberg’s words:
“His great stage was the House of Representatives – stage, pulpit, arena.”
John Howard - among many others - rated Whitlam the greatest parliamentary performer this building ever knew.
And, for Gough, performance was always bound-up in purpose.
Because this building was where the first iteration of universal health care – Medibank - became law.
Where the renewal of our suburbs and regions was put at the heart of national policy.
This was where the first bricks were removed from the tariff wall.
The first steps taken to Land Rights.
Where a new generation of Australians were given access to the life-changing opportunity of a university education.
Where the White Australia Policy was finally abolished.
Diplomatic relations with China first established.
The Racial Discrimination Act passed.
The Family Court and Single Mother’s Payment created.
And so much more.
This statue of Gough will commemorate the reforms he drove and delivered.
And – above all - the lives and communities his vision and ambition transformed.
Here in our nation’s capital, Gough’s statue will look out on the public service he revitalised and energised.
Down toward the National Gallery he established, and forever enhanced with the acquisition of Blue Poles.
And it will look out upon the nation Gough Whitlam changed.
The modern, confident and more equal Australia he helped bring into being.
A country coming to grips with the fullness and richness of our history.
Taking pride in the privilege we have to share this ancient continent with the world’s oldest continuous culture.
An Australia making our own way in our region – partnering with ASEAN, recognising China, at home in Asia, speaking for ourselves in the world.
A nation where equal pay for women, access to great education and affordable healthcare for all. liberate the talents and uplift the horizons of our citizens.
An optimistic country, rejecting the habits and fears of the past.
Rising to the demands and opportunities of the future.
A great nation such as ours honours its history – and remembers those who made it.
In years to come, this statue will take us closer to the drama of the 11th of November, 1975.
It will commemorate the sternest test our democracy has known.
And it will stand in tribute to all that came before it - and all that endures.
Gough will stand here, welcoming people to our Museum of Australian Democracy.
And Australians will be able to stand with Gough, put an arm around the great man’s shoulders, and remind ourselves that if we maintain our enthusiasm, it’s always time.