Two moments of legal genius which tell you more about Malcolm Turnbull than anything he’s ever done in politics

MALCOLM Turnbull wasn’t always a politician. You can’t understand our new Prime Minister until you read about his previous career.

HE was brilliant, bold, and more than a little brutal when the occasion demanded.

But there’s one other B word which reveals the A-grade qualities of Australia’s newest Prime Minister back in his days as a high-flying lawyer. That word, if you’ll excuse the slightly vulgar colloquialism, is “ballsy”.

Malcolm Turnbull portrayed himself as a calm, visionary figure when announcing his leadership challenge yesterday afternoon, then again in his victory speech late last night.

But the challenge also had an air of ruthlessness about it, a cut-throat quality which harked back to Turnbull’s days as a young lawyer who was unafraid to take on anybody.

Turnbull was successful in several career incarnations pre-politics. His 1994 purchase of a share of Australian internet provider Ozemail for half a million dollars, which he sold five years later for $60 million, was a very nice piece of work.

But two of Turnbull’s moments as a young lawyer are the stuff of absolute legend. One happened in 1986 and resulted in Malcolm Turnbull humiliating no less a figure than British PM Margaret Thatcher.

It all started with a book called Spycatcher: The Candid Autobiography of a Senior Intelligence Officer. The book was written by Peter Wright, an officer and assistant director with the British intelligence agency MI5.

Wright alleged some incredibly scandalous stuff in the book, including that a former director general of MI5 was a Soviet mole. This, in the midst of the Cold War, was an unbelievably juicy and sensational allegation.

The book was published first in Australia. The British Government went straight into panic mode and tried to ban it. Up stepped an Australian lawyer called Malcolm Turnbull who would soon have the British government’s suppression orders thrown out of court.

That’s Turnbull on the right, accompanying MI5 counter-intelligence officer and Spycatcher author Peter Wright to court.

“I was quite taken with the Spycatcher trial story and I marvelled at the audacity of a young Australian barrister taking on the British Government,” Liberal Party deputy leader and long-time Turnbull friend Julie Bishop swooned a few years ago in an interview with the ABC.

Turnbull was audacious in that trial alright. This was the Aussie equivalent of the starry-eyed Tom Cruise taking on the sneering, supercilious Jack Nicholson in the movie A few Good Men. There were even neat parallels with the famous “You Can’t Handle the Truth” line.

What happened was, Margaret Thatcher dispatched her Cabinet Secretary, Sir Robert Armstrong to give evidence at the trial. Turnbull ate him alive in a famous exchange which has gone down in legal and political history. Here’s how the crucial moments of that fabled exchanged played out:

Turnbull: So that letter contains a lie, does it not?

Armstrong: It contains a misleading impression in that respect.

Turnbull: Which you knew to be misleading at the time you made it?

Armstrong: Of course.

Turnbull: So it contains a lie?

Armstrong: It is a misleading impression, it does not contain a lie, I don’t think.

Turnbull: What is the difference between a misleading impression and a lie?

Armstrong: You are as good at English as I am.

Turnbull: I am just trying to understand.

Armstrong: A lie is a straight untruth.

Turnbull: What is a misleading impression — a sort of bent untruth?

Armstrong: As one person said, it is perhaps being economical with the truth.

That, right there, is the moment Turnbull skewered his man. By forcing Armstrong to admit the British Government was prepared to lie to protect national security, Turnbull effectively won the battle there and then. And the book, eventually, was allowed to be published.

The British press didn’t know what to make of Turnbull’s audacity. Certainly no British lawyer would have taken on a senior government figure with such belligerence and assuredness. But our man Malcolm never blinked.

Meanwhile the phrase “economical with the truth”, which sounds like one of those terrible pieces of political doublespeak from the satirical British TV show Yes Minister, has since entered the broader vernacular as a euphemism for a lie.

The other big ballsy moment in Malcolm Turnbull’s legal career involved the late media mogul Kerry Packer, whom Turnbull had met in 1975. He later became general counsel for the Packers in the early 1980s.

Kerry Packer and Malcolm Turnbull in 1984.

“He was my boss and a huge influence in a lot of ways. Kerry and I worked intensely together and, when it came to knowing him as a man, I saw the good, the bad … and the bit in between,” Turnbull told GQ Australia in this excellent long feature on Turnbull published earlier this year.

In 1984, a series of extremely unsavoury allegations emerged against a business figure known as the “Goanna”. In a tactical masterstroke, Turnbull advised Packer to unveil himself as the mystery figure. This allowed Packer to get on the front foot and strenuously deny the allegations, all of which proved to be economical with the truth. Or in other words, lies.

If Turnbull hadn’t encouraged Packer to out and fight the lies, who knows how the fabrications may have festered?

“It was 100 per cent Malcolm’s victory,” Bruce McWilliam, Turnbull’s former legal partner who today is Seven’s commercial director, recalled in 2008.

“I mean it was a brilliant victory. It sort of lifted the weight off Packer to see that someone was like carrying it forward in such a proactive way.”

More recently Mr McWilliam told The Australian that “Malcolm Turnbull inspired me with his defence of Kerry Packer.

“Talk about chasing for something that wasn’t there and didn’t mind who got hurt in the way. In the end, (Paul) Keating read a statement of apology in the parliament. But Malcolm saw it from the beginning and his public denunciation … turned the tables.”

Another thing Malcolm Turnbull saw from the beginning is that Tony Abbott was not natural leadership material. Whether Turnbull himself has what it takes to lead is the great trial now playing out before the entire Australian public.

What did GQ know in April that the rest of us only suspected?