John Howard - Lazarus Rising

The Liberal campaign launch for the election of 1987 struck a real chord, but ‘Joh for PM’ made victory impossible. We didn’t pick up enough speed to win.

Janette and I on election night 1987. Despite a 1 per cent swing to us, Hawke won four seats.

On the verandah at Wollstonecraft in 1988. Future Directions was launched later that year. It was a clear statement of my philosophical beliefs.

On the eve of the 1996 election, enjoying one of many family holidays at Hawks Nest. During a beach walk, the idea came to me for the Natural Heritage Trust policy from Telstra sale proceeds.

Election night, March 1996 — victory at last!

Watching Lleyton Hewitt’s US Open victory in the lounge room of the Australian ambassador’s residence, Washington, 9 September 2001.

With Richard, Tim and Janette, paying respects at Ground Zero, New York, January 2002. The raw emotion was still strong.

After my victory speech in Sydney on election night 2004. It was the Coalition’s fourth straight win. Unexpectedly, we won control of the Senate.

A proud father with his daughter: Melanie at her graduation from Sydney University, May 1996. All of my children took law degrees.

About to give away Melanie on her wedding day, September 2003.

With George and Laura Bush on the verandah of the White House before an official dinner, May 2006.

Intervarsity fencer Janette brandishes Cromwell’s sword in the ‘long room’ at Chequers. Cherie Blair and I admire her thrust but keep our distance.

With Melanie and my grandson, Angus, after voting on election day 2007.

Conceding defeat on election night 2007, with Richard, Janette, Tim and his future wife, Sarah. My Government left a stronger, prouder and more prosperous Australia.

In March 1983, the Liberal and National parties commenced 13 years of opposition. We would lose five elections in a row, and pass through some of the most despairing years since the Liberal Party’s foundation in 1944. The most traumatic episode would be the split in the federal coalition in 1987, forced by the overwhelming influence, within the National Party, of the Queensland Nationals, led by Joh Bjelke-Petersen, who was, for 19 years, premier of that state.

During this period we would have four leaders: Andrew Peacock (twice), John Hewson, Alexander Downer and me (twice). At the end of this long period of political exile, the party would, in coalition with the Nationals, regain office under my leadership and stay in power for almost 12 years.

Through those opposition years, I experienced just about all that could come the way of a long-serving participant in Australian politics. Yet I always retained a total commitment and sustained enthusiasm for political life. Irrespective of the position I held, I kept an unflagging interest in what I was doing. The experience of those years told me that, beyond argument, politics was my life and vocation. Some of the most productive policy work that I did in the whole time that I was a member of parliament occurred between 1990 and 1993, when I was spokesman on industrial relations for the Coalition, and my only expectation was to hold that portfolio in a Hewson Government.

Being bundled from office is a humbling experience — not that I was unprepared. The campaign had delivered a mounting realisation that there would be a change of government. The adversarial nature of politics requires one to change, almost overnight, from a reasoned decision-maker to a vigorous and informed critic of those now making the decisions. That was virtually impossible. I felt tired, both mentally and physically. What I wanted in March 1983 was a six-month sabbatical. But there was no hope of that; politics was my life.

I decided on the night of the election to stand for the leadership of the Liberal Party, made vacant by Fraser’s resignation. I knew that my only opponent would be Andrew Peacock, and that he would almost certainly win. He did, comfortably, by 36 votes to 20. As Treasurer, I was far more closely linked to the policies of the just-defeated government than Peacock. That made him a more appealing choice. I was re-elected deputy leader, and wanted a shadow portfolio away from Treasury. Doug Anthony persuaded me to stick with my old area because of my by-then-vast experience with economic issues. Fraser quietly lobbied for Andrew Peacock in the leadership contest. He did not attend the meeting at which the ballot took place, and later explained this to me on the grounds that it would not have been in my interests if I had won only narrowly, implying, unconvincingly, that he would have supported me if he had been there. I had not sought his support and, strangely perhaps, did not feel particularly offended by his attitude. Many of my friends, however, saw his behaviour as poor repayment of the loyalty I had shown to him over a long period of time.

The early weeks in opposition were very hard for me because I had to beat off claims that I had misled the public about the true state of the deficit. It was right on the eve of the election that I was given a figure of $9.6 billion as the likely deficit for the following year, which was much higher than the stab-in-the-dark figure I had casually mentioned to some journalists. Moreover, the $9.6 billion was only a starting point, and would be reduced in the normal budget process. This did not stop Bob Hawke and Paul Keating, his new Treasurer, making a huge issue of it. This was their honeymoon; the press swallowed their lines and I took quite a shellacking.

Andrew Peacock and I were rivals for the leadership of the Liberal Party for some years, but this did not, as many have argued, completely paralyse the Liberal Party in opposition. Rivalry between key figures in political parties is commonplace. From 1986 onwards, the rivalry between Keating and Hawke within the governing Labor Party was barely disguised, periodically spilling into the public arena. Nonetheless, Andrew’s and my rivalry was real, both as personalities and on policy issues.

In the culture of the Liberal Party, Andrew and I were almost born to be rivals. We were only a few months apart in age. When it seemed, to many people, to matter a lot more, he came from Melbourne and I came from Sydney. He had taken over the seat of Kooyong from Sir Robert Menzies, the great hero of our party. We were of different personalities and styles. Andrew’s urbanity and very considerable personal charm had won him early notice as a future leader of the Liberal Party. He had been a very effective minister in the McMahon Government, and had won a lot of deserved praise for the relationships he established with key figures in the newly independent Papua New Guinea. It was so easy, given our contrasting styles and personalities, for commentators to paint him as emblematic of the progressive side of the Liberal Party, and me as a dull, dogged conservative.