Bob Hawke: A portrait of power and pain

To those fortunate enough to have had a spectator’s view of the life and times of Bob Hawke, he loomed so large as a charismatic and colourful figure that it was easy to assume we had missed no detail of his political skill and flawed humanity. That’s not so, as Troy Bramston proves in his forthcoming book, Bob Hawke: Demons and Destiny. Bramston delved into hitherto untapped archives in Australia and overseas, and interviewed more than 100 people, including a poignant final talk with Hawke just before his death. It’s tempting to see Hawke, a clergyman’s son who caroused and womanised, as an archetypal Aussie larrikin. But, as Bramston shows, that doesn’t begin to capture his complexity, his sometimes unbridled passions and volatility, as well as his capacity for compassion in human affairs and for masterful co-ordination when chairing Labor’s remarkably talented cabinets.

The Hawke-Keating years remain a touchstone of competent government able to pursue difficult economic reforms by persuading various factions and forces in society that Australia as a whole could share in higher living standards if pragmatic compromises were struck.

The buzzwords of the time – conciliation and consensus – speak of a more optimistic era than ours, where polarisation is debilitating, cancel culture frustrates open debate, and critical social justice is anti-social and unforgiving.

How do we judge Hawke the man? The startling extent of his marital infidelity, the recklessness of his pursuit of sex, is revealed in Bramston’s book. It could have led to him being compromised in his public office. He regretted the pain and suffering his philandering and angry outbursts had inflicted on those close to him. Yet his capacity for love, for deep personal connection, seems undeniable. It’s not simply a question of whether we should project back in history the strident moralism of the #MeToo movement at its worst. Many people would have deplored Hawke’s behaviour at the time, although there is a strain of unapologetic hedonism in Australian culture. Hawke was authentic, no hypocrite, and this may help explain his remarkable popularity. And, in the memorable line from one of his ministers, John Button, being a bastard was never a disqualification for leading the ALP.

Most voters do not expect their politicians to be models of personal virtue. They rightly give much weight to political leadership, courage and determination. Hawke had all that in spades. He did renounce his beloved grog to give the country a clear head with him as prime minister. And he and his colleagues did Australia a great turn by proving that Labor could succeed as a modern, competent government. Near default rule by the Liberals and their Country Party cousins was unhealthy. Any party in power needs the stimulus of a serious challenge and spells of reinvention in opposition.

It’s probably true that our politics today would make the rise of someone such as Hawke unthinkable. The once unspoken agreement among journalists that personal foibles of the political class are of no interest has come under severe pressure recently. More generally in our culture, there is impatient dismissal of the truth that public figures, being human, are imperfect and that the qualities that equip them for great achievement are not always very appealing.

To their credit, Hawke and his reformist ministers worked hard as plain-speaking persuaders. When they addressed the nation, they did so through media organs with leading journalists steeped in policy. We still have such journalists today, but social media and accompanying declines in education and civility have amplified the noise; it’s much harder now to get a sensible signal through to the electorate.

Bramston relates one episode where Hawke deliberately scrambled the message. In 1990, he falsely claimed that Australia’s decision to commit forces to the Gulf War was in response to a request from George HW Bush, the US president at the time. In truth, it was Hawke who made the unsolicited offer. History is littered with falsehoods stated for noble and for base reasons. Voters are realists on this point. But it is important to correct the record, as Bramston has done. Hawke’s offer was consistent with his principled support for our alliance with the US and for the violated sovereignty of Kuwait. In the circumstances, and regardless of how it came about, it was very likely that Australia would join the Gulf War. That’s the enduring truth.

Bramston argues strongly that Hawke was not only a champion of electoral politics – he took Labor to four election victories – but a leader whose achievements made him the greatest of our post-war prime ministers.