Why the usual rules of politics don’t apply to Jeff Kennett

Despite losing “the unlosable election” as premier, Jeff Kennett is still relevant two decades on. So why don’t the usual rules of past politicos apply to him?

The usual rules of political life and death do not apply to Jeff Kennett.

Ex-premiers, from John Brumby to Ted Baillieu, dimmed in the public thinking after they left office. Their time served, exhausted by years of invasive scrutiny, state leaders are generally relieved to recede from view.

Kennett, too, felt better when people stopped tugging at his arm, telling him to change this or fix that.

As premier, he would blast Laura Branigan from his chauffeured car speakers, belting out “Gloria” in the hope of finding the requisite buzz of his presence.

Confecting exuberance day after day was like being a “cuckoo clock”. The proprietorial familiarity of random encounters came to be almost unbearable.

The pressure defeated him, he admits with shame, when he rudely told a persistent old woman where to go when she wouldn’t let him eat at a function.

Yet Kennett still hasn’t gone away — almost a generation since he lost “the unlosable election” in 1999. He still gets accosted by strangers, though he says their messages are more pleasing than they once were.

Former Victorian Premier Jeff Kennett continues to serve as a defacto elder statesman for all things Victorian. Picture: David Caird

Kennett is still relevant. A salesman and ideas man, imbued since school in the rewards of service, he is as visible as ever.

He is the Hawthorn president and Liberal Party statesman who, according to some, served as the defacto Opposition Leader during the COVID response.

Some within the party felt he should steer the party back from the dysfunction of its parliamentary wing. That the long ago leader should, at 74, strike a path of future reform.

Wife Felicity thought he was mad. But when Kennett was approached this year to assume the Liberal Party’s state presidency, he was interested.

He wanted to reinvigorate the party which was smashed at the last election and has been almost invisible since the pandemic.

Kennett got busy. He describes a kind of campaign; he arranged professional specialists for this or that aspect of the task, such as social media use in an election campaign.

He built a “team”, much as he assembled ministers in government, and identified successors in other roles such as being chair of Beyond Blue.

Kennett, as word spread, was hailed as a kind of prospective saviour, the fix-it who could wed the warring Liberal Party factions.

As he puts it, he would “paint pictures” then deploy others to “put the pictures in the frame”.

Three former Victorian premiers Denis Napthine, Jeff Kennett and Ted Baillieu. Picture: David Caird

Yet his planned return came with a proviso. The same condition applied when he was asked — and agreed to — assume the Liberal Party leadership after Robert Doyle stepped down as Opposition leader in 2006.

Kennett wanted the job at the time (and Felicity probably thought him mad then, too). But he also hoped that Ted Baillieu would put aside his own aspirations for Kennett’s political resurrection.

In a phone call, Baillieu did not agree to do so. Kennett receded into the political shadows and Baillieu later went on to four years as premier.

For the state party presidency, Kennett similarly wanted an “orderly” transition.

He was tempted by “the challenge”, he says, of positioning the party for an electoral tilt late next year.

But current president, Robert Clark, did not want to vacate the position. Rather than subject the party to the nastiness of a vote, Kennett bowed to Clark’s wishes.

Kennett’s choice to get involved again might sound strange from afar.

It goes to Kennett’s confounding, if not confusing, public persona, which blends figures as contradictory as Henry Bolte and PT Barnum.

Kennett celebrates with players after Hawthorn’s win at the VFLW Grand Final in 2018. Picture: Getty

Kennett can be a bully and a friend. He is the economic conservative and the social liberal. He is the commentator who rails against Dan Andrews and also praises his fill-in James Merlino.

Kennett has felt that the perceived political chicaneries of the Andrews Government have defied proper scrutiny.

He identifies “apparatchiks” responsible for notorious failings of the state system through COVID. He says these people have not been placed in positions of power for their qualities. And when things go wrong, such misplaced managers are shielded from the rightful scrutiny.

Kennett believes that good governance requires a strong opposition so that hubris, and arrogance, do not creep into decision-making.

“I’ve spoken to a number of current ministers here with whom I have a good relationship and they agree,” he says.

“They’d love pressure, in one sense because you make mistakes if you think you are totally in control.”

The next election should be a contest of ideas, he argues, not a shopping list of promises to be compared.

He avoids declaring the Liberal Party as a better choice than the ALP.

He claims little ideology in his political history, arguing that he appointed the best people – not the best Liberal Party people – to critical roles.

Kennett seeks the “common sense” party.

Former Victorian Premiers and political opponents Kennett and Steve Bracks. Picture: Jake Nowakowski

The state election is 18 months away, he says, which is “centuries, politically speaking”. He does not fear a Western Australia kind of electoral wipeout for the Liberal Party.

“I strongly believe that after what we’ve been through in the past six years with this government, and they’ve done some things well and some things not so well, I think it’s time for a change,” he says.

“I think a change of government is possible. Most people just laugh in my face and say ‘no, no, no, that’s not going to happen’.”

Kennett will generally offer a view on anything. But he is surprisingly reticent to talk about himself. His default response is that he is too boring.

He eschews yesterday. It’s done, gone, no regrets.

Kennett has kept trinkets from his time in office, such as a yellow taxi and a cartoon depicting all the ways to be “Jeffed”.

But he didn’t keep his records from his 23 years in parliament.

His life is about today and tomorrow, and the purging of the demons each evening, so that the morning is fresh for optimism.

Yet Kennett’s continuing public presence, including the bid to reinvigorate the Liberal Party political machine, is driven by key moments in his past.

His two years of war service in Malaya taught him discipline, respect for the chain of command, and the need to be a respected leader rather than a popular one.

He marvelled at the shortness of life when he was shown 400-year-old trees in Gippsland. We’re not here long, he figured, whether it be 30, 50 or 100 years.

Kennett with wife Felicity.

The epiphany was when he thought he would die in a car accident.

Driving near home in Surrey Hills, he rounded a bend and was forced to choose between an oncoming car and a garbage truck.

He steered into the truck. When he regained his senses, the 1812 Overture, which had been playing on a cassette, reached the climax of cannon fire.

The “gift of life” was explained to him in that moment. He still plays the 1812 Overture each morning when he climbs out of bed.

He is contented at home, with the gardens to tend and a putting green on which to humiliate guests. If you’re well-received, Felicity might give you a jar of apricot jam made from the orchard on the western side.

He marvels at a tulip tree, which resembles the biblical burning bush when the morning sun streaks through. There are seven grandkids.

But Kennett hasn’t slowed. He doesn’t care to, citing successful men who retire and shrink when they are deprived the daily pressures and pleasures of life.

Beyond Blue remains his greatest achievement. He is proud of The Torch, which promotes the art of indigenous offenders, and he remains pleased that he invited Catherine Andrews, wife of Dan, to be on the board.

He is only in “the early stage” of life, he argues, and “I’ve still got a lot to do”.

He will never retire, which he equates with “death”, and he plans to die “with my boots on”.

“I hope I have the mental capacity to be busy until the grim reaper reaches down and says ‘all right, come up here mate or come down here’, whichever it is,” Kennett says.