things you learn along the way john menadue david lovell

304 Pages·2009·1.08 MB·English

‘John Menadue brings a unique perspective to three crucial
decades in Australian politics, government, diplomacy, the media
and aviation. This compelling and often moving account contains
fresh, fascinating and first-hand insights into the character and
motives of figures as diverse as Gough Whitlam, John Kerr,
Malcolm Fraser and Rupert Murdoch. It will become the
indispensable guide to a fuller understanding of the events
surrounding 11 November 1975. Best of all, John Menadue’s story
testifies that honour and decency are no bar to success and
achievement, even in the tough world of Australian public life.’
Graham Freudenberg
‘Life at the top of Australian politics, diplomacy and business as
John Menadue’s ideals are tested by experience. This is an
enthralling story—concise, rigorous and wise, with no excuses
and no cover-ups. Menadue’s honesty, not least about himself,
makes this a unique work of Australian discovery.’
Edmund Campion
‘This is a life lived from the country Methodist manse to the inner
circles of power in Canberra. Challenging new assessments of
Gough Whitlam, Malcolm Fraser and Rupert Murdoch, among
others, are matched by moral candour about himself, rare in an
insider’s account.’
Brian Johns
‘In this memoir by a substantial modern Australian, we learn a
great deal about the development of similar qualities in Australia
as well as the evolution of a man who became a real achiever.
His story exemplifies our nation’s predominant ethic, an emphasis
on working behind the scenes wielding benign but effective
influence and quietly dreaming big dreams.’
Geraldine Doogue
For my parents
Laurie and Elma Menadue
THINGS YOU
LEARN A L O N G WAY
THE
JOHN
MENADUE
DAVID LOVELL PUBLISHING
MELBOURNE AUSTRALIA
Acknowledgements
Thanks to Glynnis Nancarrow and Nancy Campisi, who typed the many
drafts. Eric Walsh and Michael Kelly SJ gave much encouragement and
helpful reminders. Cathy Coles, Ray Cassin and Neil Thomas tutored me
in writing a book and pointed to the areas that needed change. Beth Pitman,
my sister, has a much better memory of childhood than me. She is the
family memory bank. Susie Menadue gave enormous encouragement and
support. My children, Susan, Rosalie, Peter and Elizabeth, were frank and
encouraging as ever. David Lovell, my publisher, was quietly professional
and helpful, with no fuss or drama.
First published in 1999 by
David Lovell Publishing
PO Box 822
Ringwood Victoria 3134
Australia
Tel [phone]
Fax [phone]
© Copyright 1999 John Menadue
This book is copyright. Apart from any fair dealing for the purpose of private
study, research, criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright Act,
no part may be reproduced by any person without written permission.
Inquiries should be addressed to the publisher.
Cover photograph courtesy John Menadue
Design by David Lovell
Typeset in 11.5/14 Bembo
Printed in Australia by Openbook Publishers
National Library of Australia
Cataloguing-in-Publication data
Menadue, J. L. (John Laurence), 1935– .
Things you learn along the way.
Includes index.
ISBN 1 86355 073 9.
1. Menadue, J. L. (John Laurence), 1935– . 2. Australia.
Dept of Prime Minister and Cabinet - Officials and
employees – Biography. 3. Australia. Dept of Immigration and Ethnic Affairs –
Officials and employees - Biography.
4. Ambassadors - Australia - Biography. 5. Chief executive
officers - Australia - Biography. 7. Australia - Politics and
government - 1965– . I. Title.
994.06092
Contents
Preface … 1
—— 1935–50 ——
Son of the Methodist manse … 4
—— 1950–60 ——
Study hard, get a job, get married
and have children … 23
—— 1960–67 ——
The seven lean years:
With Gough Whitlam … 38
—— 1966 ——
Moving out of the shadow:
The Hume Election … 75
—— 1967 ——
A cold day in Geelong … 81
—— 1967–74 ——
Seeing what power is about:
With Rupert Murdoch … 89
—— 1974–75 ——
Born to rule and jobs for the boys:
With the Whitlam Government … 118
A job on the line: John Kerr’s or
Gough Whitlam’s? … 139
—— 11 November 1975–12 November 1976 ——
An outsider:
With the Fraser Government … 168
—— 1977–1980 ——
Learning about Australia and myself:
Japan … 186
—— 1981–1983 ——
The most satisfying job of my life:
Head of Immigration and Ethnic Affairs … 211
—— 1983 ——
Marking Time with Mick Young … 234
—— 1984–1985 ——
A rocky personal period: In the Department of Trade
with Lionel Bowen and John Dawkins … 242
—— 1986–1989 ——
Understanding what boards are about:
CEO of Qantas … 254
—— 1989–1996 ——
Separating the job and the person … 276
Alienation and relationships … 287
Index … 294
Preface
I
didn’t intend to write my
autobiography, although I was tempted at times to write something
personal for my four children and seven grandchildren. But I did complete
an oral history at the request of the National Library. A lot of time and
energy was invested in that project but the result, I felt, needed more
work. I decided to try to put it into better shape.
Every person’s life is precious, even sacred. Why tell about mine?
Perhaps I have had wider experience in my life than most people. I felt
I had a story to tell—and we all like telling our story if someone will
listen.
I was born into a Methodist manse and carried the influence of
those first 15 years right through my life. Despite this background I
joined the Catholic Church. I worked for Rupert Murdoch and saw
how seductive power is. As Head of the Department of Prime Minister
and Cabinet in Canberra, I was working for Gough Whitlam on the
morning of 11 November 1975 and in the afternoon for Malcolm Fraser
after John Kerr dismissed the Whitlam Government. The anger of what
happened on that day is still with me. Working with Malcolm Fraser, I
knew I was an outsider. It was liberating, however, to realise that while
being an outsider was not comfortable it was manageable.
I was Australian Ambassador in Japan in the late 1970s and from
that vantage point learnt most about Australia and myself. As Head of
the Department of Immigration and Ethnic Affairs, I had the most
satisfying job of my life, being part of nation building and doing my best
to end White Australia. As CEO of Qantas I saw the opportunities in
Asia and experienced the difficulties of dealing with a board and a
government with agendas that weren’t the same as mine—and the pressure
to conform.
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Things You Learn Along the Way
In telling my story I decided not to separate my public from my
private life. They happened together, although for long periods my private
journey came a distant second to career. As the years unfolded I think I
came to integrate them better.
In the Methodist manse I learnt about the work ethic and discipline.
I was determined, some would say driven.
Without habit and custom we would be exhausted having to make
conscious decisions about every detail of daily life, so we live a lot of our
life on ‘autopilot’. Our cultural context strongly influences our attitudes
and behaviour. But there were experiences in my life that were catalysts
that forced me to change, to turn off the auto-pilot, although I often
wasn’t able to articulate or understand the changes for years, perhaps
decades later.
Most of those changes were of the emotions, not of the intellect.
Because of that they were more deep-seated and powerful, but also more
painful. Change, whether for individuals, institutions or nations, is not
easy and inevitably comes with some loss of what we previously valued
or relied upon.
As a country boy from South Australia, I grew up in White Australia.
Malayan students at university college unknowingly reflected White
Australia back to me. It was an unpleasant experience. They changed my
life and triggered my 45-year commitment to promoting Australia’s
relations with Asia. Aldous Huxley described this change process:
‘Experience is not what happens to a man. It is what a man does with
what happens to him.’
A sceptical university professor unwittingly helped me draw a link
between Christian values and social justice.
Gough Whitlam awakened a new world of ideas and opportunities
for me. I am ever in his debt.
My first wife’s death in 1984 humbled me. I didn’t have the spiritual
and psychological resources to handle the circumstances in which I found
myself. It helped me to understand my vulnerability. I learned the hard
way that success and status weren’t really important in the end. They
were props that made it easier for me to shut out my inner voice. We
learn best in hard times.
In the Catholic Church I encountered the same problem as in so
many other institutions: the alienation of people from leaders who, despite
the rhetoric, do not feel they are accountable. Power is inevitably abused.
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Preface
All institutions, like people, are in need of radical daily reform. Without
dissenters, institutions die. In that respect I became more radical as I
grew older.
Through all the changes in my life I think I have been resilient. I
have moved on to the next venture and opportunity with little looking
back and few regrets. I probably learned that resilience from my days in
the manse, when I was always on the move.
At the age of 64, I believe that the one thing above all else that I
have learned is that we are all made incomplete. We need relationships
and community to be complete.
My story is about a journey and the things I learned along the way.
I am pleased with what I have done, even with the failures and mistakes.
I hope you find my story encouraging.
John Menadue
July 1999
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Things You Learn Along the Way
—— 1935–1950 ——
Son of the Methodist manse
‘The Child is father of the Man’ (William Wordsworth)
I
am the son of a Methodist
minister. That probably says more about me than anything else I can say
about myself. So much of my life and how experiences affected me is
predicated on my first 15 years in a Methodist manse.
Self-improvement and a strong work ethic were a part of daily life.
We had to be ‘up and doing’. Idle hands made mischief. My sister and I
were told that if we believed in something, the energy and enthusiasm
to achieve goals at study or sport would come. Hard work and
determination would produce better results than flashy brilliance. We
had a duty to try to make the world a little bit better.
My family were temperate, not given to wild flights of fancy or
excess. Alcohol and gambling were taboo. Methodists were earnest. Time
and effort should not be wasted on the superfluous.
I have never escaped the imprint of this upbringing. A close friend
of mine often told me that I confused earnestness and competence. I
think he was right.
I was born to Laurie and Elma Menadue in Cowell, South Australia,
in February 1935. My sister, Beth, was two years older. I lived in Cowell
until I was two. My mother was a matter-of-fact and no-nonsense woman,
but she clung to an old wives’ tale that I was lucky in birth and life. She
enjoyed telling me that I was born in the caul, part of the sac covering
my head at birth, which superstition tells brings good luck and always
protects against drowning. My mother often told me of my caul, perhaps
not surprisingly as her own mother had died at her birth. Maybe she
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