Ian Sinclair, one of the grand old men of politics, has mellowed somewhat these days. But in the 1970s and 80s he was formidable. He had a tough and uncompromising approach to politics, was a master of parliamentary tactics, and mixed stylish urbanity with country charm.
He became a minister in the final year of Robert Menzies’ government and served in the cabinets of five prime ministers, from Harold Holt to Malcolm Fraser. Mentored by John “Black Jack” McEwen, he became deputy leader of the National Party under Doug Anthony and led the party from 1984 to 1989.
John Howard described Sinclair as one of the most “naturally gifted politicians” he had known. If it were not for the bizarre push for Queensland premier Joh Bjelke-Petersen to become prime minister — 30 years ago — Sinclair might have served as Howard’s deputy prime minister in the late 80s or early 90s.
Now 87, Sinclair brushes off talk of regrets, achievements and legacies. “I’m not one for living in the past,” he says after meeting me at Taree airport on the NSW mid north coast last week. He is still unmistakable: tall, grey-white hair, bushy eyebrows, square jaw and deep voice.
At his home set on lush green acreage, where the cattle peer through the windows, Sinclair describes himself as “a city boy who went to the bush” when his father purchased a property at Bendemeer, in the New England region, in 1953. He played rugby, immersed himself in agricultural issues and joined the Country Party. State MP Bill Chaffey encouraged him to go into politics. Sinclair was elected to the NSW Legislative Council in March 1961. There, at the most exclusive club in town, he soaked up lessons on parliament, politics and policy.
Less than three years later, when the federal member for New England retired, he seized an opportunity and won the preselection. Sinclair did not meet McEwen, the deputy prime minister, until he won the seat at the 1963 election.
“What struck me was the humility of the man,” Sinclair says of McEwen. “He was very likeable. He had been there a long time and some of his ideas were dated, but he knew more about trade than anyone else.”
McEwen was instrumental in Sinclair being appointed minister for social services in February 1965. Sinclair relished the portfolio. He ended departmental officials signing welfare cheques and began paying directly into bank accounts. And he introduced an allowance to subsidise accommodation for people with a disability.
“I got on well with Menzies,” he recalls. “He certainly had an idea of his own status but he was an effective persuader.” But Menzies was not so sure about the new minister. Sinclair recalls being “cross-examined” by public servants Fred Wheeler, John Crawford and Roland Wilson at a Canberra bar. He later realised they would dutifully report back to Menzies.
McEwen, who had led the Country Party since March 1958, forged an invaluable partnership with Menzies. “Menzies was the chairman and McEwen was the managing director,” Sinclair says. “Menzies knew that he had to have the Country Party onside and that meant having McEwen on his side.”
Holt succeeded Menzies as prime minister in January 1966. “Harold had been a long-time lieutenant,” Sinclair recalls. “He was a very likeable person and he had a bit of larrikinism in him.” While Holt won the 1966 election, he was soon struggling with myriad issues and lacked authority. There was “unrest” in the partyroom and “disquiet” in the electorate, Sinclair says.
It was not a happy period. Margaret Sinclair had been battling brain cancer for some time and died while Ian was at Holt’s funeral. They had three young children. “She’d been unconscious and unaware of anybody being there, but I have never forgiven myself for it,” he says.
The Liberals turned to John Gorton. Sinclair had doubts about Gorton but admired his RAAF service and his work as education minister, and thought he would respect the Country Party. Sinclair, like McEwen and Anthony, couldn’t abide Billy McMahon or Paul Hasluck. “We all liked Gorton and we never had a fundamental difference with him,” Sinclair recalls.
Sinclair was promoted to the shipping and transport portfolio in February 1968 and continued to assist McEwen in trade and industry. During these years he banned the commercial whaling industry, improved transport safety standards and worked with state governments to introduce seatbelts in motor vehicles.
Meanwhile, Gorton ran into trouble with premiers over policy, his typically lone-ranger style of leadership and his questionable personal behaviour. Gorton would give his security the slip so friends, such as MP Peter Nixon, could take him to parties. “I didn’t think it was prime ministerial behaviour,” Sinclair says.
When a partyroom motion of confidence in Gorton’s leadership was tied in March 1971, the prime minister cast a vote against himself and effectively ended his prime ministership. That left an opening for McMahon — who had been vetoed from the prime ministership by the Country Party — to claim the top political prize.
“Unfortunately for Gorton, you can’t succeed if you don’t have the party and the electorate with you,” Sinclair says. “But McMahon leaked from cabinet and had many arguments with the Country Party. We didn’t trust him. None of us were happy while he was prime minister.”
Ahead of McEwen stepping down as leader of the Country Party in February 1971, there was speculation he might favour Sinclair as his successor. He “threw his hat in the ring” but didn’t contest the vote in the partyroom. Anthony had the numbers. “I didn’t seriously see myself as being McEwen’s successor,” Sinclair says. He served as deputy leader from 1971 to 1984.
In the same month, Sinclair moved to the primary industry portfolio. But McMahon offered him the foreign affairs portfolio. He declined, suspecting primary industries would go to a Liberal. McMahon could not be trusted. “You thought you had a decision from him until he spoke to another person and then he changed his mind,” Sinclair says.
Sinclair played a key role helping to develop agricultural industries to exploit overseas markets and pioneered reconstruction and adjustment schemes during his time as primary industry minister during the Gorton-McMahon government and, later, the Fraser government.
The powerful trio of Anthony, Sinclair and Nixon flexed their muscles over a proposal to devalue the dollar in late 1971. The three Country Party ministers walked out of cabinet three times in three days but eventually agreed to a 6.3 per cent devaluation linked to the US dollar with compensation for farmers. “It showed that the Coalition could not be taken for granted,” Sinclair recalls. “We felt the decision was wrong. But our later decisions on valuations during the Fraser government showed we were too slow to wake up to the realities of the modern financial world.”
When the government went into opposition in 1972 and Billy Snedden became Liberal leader, the Coalition was severed. The Liberals were in crisis. They had cycled through three prime ministers in six years and were floundering in opposition. Some were searching for a new leader.
Sinclair reveals he was offered the Liberal seat of Bennelong by retiring MP Sir John Cramer in 1974. “Would you change sides and come here?” Cramer asked. He is not sure whether he would have won the preselection — the party endorsed Howard — but he did not want to leave the Nationals.
Yet Sinclair acknowledges that Bennelong could have been a stepping stone to the Liberal leadership, and perhaps the prime ministership, even though he has no regrets. “I was in politics for what I believed in, not what I could get out of it,” he says.
It was clear to Sinclair that Fraser was the best person to lead the Liberals. Sinclair, who became manager of opposition business, has no misgivings about the strategy to block supply to force an election which led to Gough Whitlam’s dismissal in November 1975. “I totally justify everything we did,” he says.
He regards Fraser as a good prime minister who led a government that achieved a lot. But he was prone to run cabinet by exhaustion and was not always consultative. It was suggested that Fraser and the trio of Anthony, Sinclair and Nixon — constituting a “farmers’ cabinet” — were dominant. Sinclair does not agree but says: “Fraser trusted us where I’m not sure he trusted the others.”
Sinclair served in the primary industries, trade, communications and defence portfolios between 1975 and 1983. Defence was his favourite because it was such an interesting and challenging time during the Cold War. In communications, he oversaw the early days of SBS TV. But it was not all smooth sailing; he resigned from the ministry over claims of irregularities relating to companies left to him in his father’s will, but was later exonerated.
Sinclair believes the Fraser government was living on borrowed time ahead of the 1983 election. “We had one hell of a drought and rural communities were in distress,” he says. “I don’t think we acknowledged the change in world economic circumstances and that was where Paul (Keating) and Bob (Hawke) did a brilliant job with deregulation and freeing the currency.”
Sinclair looks back on his time as Nationals leader with pride, despite partyroom tensions and the “Joh for PM” campaign ahead of the 1987 election. The Queensland premier challenged Coalition policies and undermined Sinclair. The Nationals split and the Coalition was sunk. “Division is death in politics,” reflects Sinclair. “I paid tribute to what Joh achieved for Queensland, but what he did was not always helpful to the Nationals.”
In May 1989, Sinclair and Howard became victims of a surprise double leadership coup. “The trust that existed between members of the National Party was virtually lost,” he says. “Had Howard and I not been defeated, we would certainly have won the 1990 election.”
In 1998, Sinclair became Speaker. The keys to success are having authority and acting rationally and with humour, he argues. “Tony Smith is doing a great job,” he says. “But I don’t think we have the humour in parliament that we used to have and humour goes hand-in-hand with effective oratory.”
Ian and Rosemary Sinclair lead busy and fulfilling lives. They follow politics closely and juggle their extensive involvement in community organisations with home and family responsibilities. They are exceedingly modest about their achievements.
“There are things I can look back on where I had an influence,” Sinclair says.
“If you can leave your mark on the statute books then that has a far greater consequence than just being there. That’s the legacy that really matters.”
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