The life and legacy of former Queensland premier Joh Bjelke-Petersen continues to looms large in Australian politics. Although reviled and despised by many for his combative and divisive approach to leadership, and the systemic corruption of his government from 1968 to 1987, he remains a hero to some.
David Littleproud, leader of the National Party, describes him as an icon to many in Queensland. “Bjelke-Petersen was a god in our part of the world,” Littleproud told me recently. His father, Brian, was a state MP during his reign and supported the Fitzgerald inquiry into police and political corruption. Yet Littleproud still subscribes to the great man legend.
So does scandal-prone Barnaby Joyce, a former leader of the Nationals. He has a large poster of Bjelke-Peterson on the wall above his desk from which he draws inspiration. Joyce also maintains the view that the former premier was a great and good man, and model leader. Bob Katter, the independent MP for Kennedy and former Queensland state MP, regards Bjelke-Petersen as one of the greatest-ever Australians. He once waxed lyrical to me about his achievements in turbocharging Queensland’s economy, and said all Australians owed him a debt of gratitude for their prosperity.
The story of Bjelke-Petersen, from a farming family in Kingaroy with limited education who went into politics and climbed the ranks of the National Party to become the state’s longest-serving premier, and the resultant mixed judgments about his premiership, is told in a new documentary, Joh: The Last King of Queensland.
The film screened to sold-out audiences at the Sydney Film Festival last weekend. Director Kriv Stenders told moviegoers Bjelke-Petersen remains an important political figure. “Even though he passed away 20 years ago, his ghost, I think, is still very resonant and that’s what the film ultimately tries to talk to,” he said.
The documentary takes a balanced approach to its subject. It blends archival footage with new interviews with Bjelke-Petersen’s family, colleagues and critics from across the political divide. Littleproud and Katter are among those interviewed along with John Howard, who saw his chances of becoming prime minister wrecked by the Joh for PM campaign in 1987.
One of the most extraordinary aspects of the documentary is the dramatic portrayal of Bjelke-Petersen by acclaimed actor Richard Roxburgh, drawing on the subject’s own words. We see him alone in an office setting, clad in a fawn suit brilliantly capturing Bjelke-Petersen’s mangled syntax, zigzagging sentences and distinctive gait. It really is something to see.
There is no denying Bjelke-Petersen’s electoral dominance, or that he was a cunning and shrewd politician. He had a unique appeal to millions of Queenslanders. They viewed him as a politician who was on their side, understood and lived their values, fought the establishment and centralised government from Canberra, and provided them with security and protection. He was patriotic and put Queensland first.
He facilitated the expansion of coalmining and oil exploration, including on the Great Barrier Reef, which created jobs. Many profits, however, went offshore. The abolition of death duties encouraged thousands of people from southern states to move to sunny Queensland. The expansion of tourism also boosted the economy. A massive infrastructure program of roads, rail lines, ports and bridges stand as icons in his memory.
The Bjelke-Petersen government was, nevertheless, riddled with corruption. Politicians lined their pockets with kickbacks from developers, miners, and tourism and casino operators. Bjelke-Petersen and wife Flo had interests in mining companies that benefited from government leases. The Fitzgerald inquiry implicated police in corrupt activities and led to police commissioner Terry Lewis going to jail.
For many Queenslanders, the violent suppression of protests remains most egregious. Queensland was effectively turned into a police state. The campaign against the visiting South African Springboks rugby team in 1971 was met with sheer brutality. More protests, whether over the demolition of historic buildings or over wages and workplace conditions, met the same fate and were eventually made illegal, violating civil rights.
When Labor senator Bert Milliner died in mid-1975, it was expected convention would be followed and the state parliament would appoint Labor’s nominee to succeed him. Instead, Bjelke-Petersen appointed Albert Field, a Labor member but a critic of Gough Whitlam, which tainted the Senate and reduced Labor’s numbers ahead of the supply crisis in October-November.
There is no question Bjelke-Petersen was able to stay in power for so long due to a gerrymander of electorates. This was electoral fraud on a grand scale. For example, at the May 1969 election, Labor received 45 per cent of the vote to the Coalition’s 44.7 per cent yet Labor gained just 31 seats while the Coalition had a majority with 45.
The documentary shows that by 1987, Bjelke-Petersen thought he was unstoppable. He made a quixotic bid to become prime minister but soon realised his appeal was strictly Queensland-only. He destroyed the Coalition, which formally split, and undermined Ian Sinclair’s leadership of the Nationals. Bob Hawke went to an early election and was easily re-elected. Howard’s hopes of being prime minister were put on ice.
The reporting of corruption by Chris Masters on the ABC’s Four Corners, and the subsequent Fitzgerald inquiry, set in train events that led to Bjelke-Petersen’s demise. In late 1987, he announced he would retire on the 20th anniversary of his premiership. He began sacking ministers for not pledging loyalty. Eventually he barricaded himself in his office before resigning earlier in December that year.
It is troubling that some politicians today have a “don’t you worry about that” attitude to evaluating Bjelke-Petersen. He may have been an achiever with popular appeal but he also led by fear and division, turned a blind eye to corruption, trampled laws and conventions, and remained in power due to a gerrymander. The ends do not justify the means. Democracy matters and, in the end, Bjelke-Petersen’s own colleagues realised enough was enough.