Standard disclaimer: fictional characters herein bear no resemblance to anyone, living or dead. The TL will be constructed out of 'omniscient narration' and character vignettes, with vignettes playing a much more prominent part once we get past the introduction (which requires backstory and all).
It's good to be back writing again.
Prologue
The Hanson government in Queensland was the most important state government, in terms of its political consequences, of the last half of the twentieth century. It challenged the essential foundations of Australian governance in the modern age: that economic rationalism is the only pragmatic course; that the two-party system is fixed and immutable; that the states are destined to decline into mere ‘service providers’, without capacity to form policy or shape the national debate. It shattered certain long-standing beliefs about Australia: that tolerance is deep-seated, that radicalism cannot inspire and motivate voters, and that conservative fiscal policies hold wide support within the community. It was a radical government, despite its conservative facade, and we still feel its effects in 2008.
A broad social and economic consensus, dating from Federation, was shattered by the Whitlam and Hawke governments. [1] To the extent governments prior to Whitlam considered social and cultural policies at all, they were instinctively conservative; economic policies were protectionist, paternalistic, and dominated by the politics of pork-barrelling. The arrival of economic rationalism, cultural liberalism, feminism, multiculturalism, free trade, and Aboriginal land rights was a peaceful revolution that replaced, all but completely, the Australia of decades previous.
The first symptoms of the Hanson revolution could be seen in the short-lived Howard government (1996-1998), elected in a landslide against the economically and socially reformist Paul Keating. (Hanson’s entire political persona and agenda were formulated as a rejection of everything Keating stood for.) Howard attempted to forge an electoral coalition of conservative blue-collar workers and the traditional Liberal base in small business. Had it not been for the Hanson phenomenon, he might well have succeeded; however, the sweeping reaction to the bipartisan consensus of 1972 to 1996 would instead be dominated by Pauline Hanson, who would destroy his government, arouse deep and rousing passions in the Australian electorate, and ultimately seize control of the third-largest state in the Australian federation.
Hansonism, 1996-1998
Pauline Hanson was a small-business (fish and chips) owner-operator in the hinterland city of Ipswich, long a Labor heartland. She was drawn to politics by social concerns: her opposition to Aboriginal affairs policies, multiculturalism, social liberalism and Asian immigration prompted her to stand for Liberal preselection prior to the 1996 election. At the time, she was given no chance of success; the seat of Oxley, held by Labor continuously for 35 years, was thought impregnable.
Once her letter to the local newspaper, the Queensland Times, decrying Aboriginal welfare, was published, however, she became a national sensation. Although disendorsed by the federal Liberal Party, she remained on the ballot as a Liberal candidate. Her simplistic, conservative populism appealed to local voters, who had suffered high rates of unemployment due to the decline of local industry. Her appeal was that of the ‘anti-politician’: uncharismatic, poorly educated, and frequently lapsing into ungrammatical spiels, she reflected deep-seated antagonism towards the two-party system. She was swept into Parliament with a double-digit swing against Labor.
Once in Parliament, Hanson attracted enormous publicity. In 1997, she was the second-most talked about person on radio and television, behind only the Prime Minister. [2] Her maiden speech, which combined a populist attack on Aborigines, immigrants, politicians and ill-defined ‘elites’ with a strident Australian nationalism, became a clarion call to many disenfranchised Australians. In October 1996, a hypothetical ‘Hanson-led party’ was polling at 18% of the vote, unprecedented support for a third party in Australian polling history. [3]
In early 1997, Hanson formed the One Nation party. Howard, recognising the threat posed by the new party to his hold on rural and socially conservative voters, attempted to pitch to the right. In particular, his response to the Kartinyeri decision, wherein the High Court struck down his attempts to override native title on Hindmarsh Island [4], was to criticise ‘political judges’, extensively amend native title legislation, and cut funds from the Aboriginal aid budget.
One Nation’s policies bear close examination, not because they shifted votes (they reflected the sentiments of existing voters, rather than attempting to appeal) but of what they represent of Hanson’s support base. The concerns of the party were almost entirely areas of social and cultural policy. They promised to cut most spending on Aboriginal affairs; to abolish policies of multiculturalism and dramatically decrease immigration, working to encourage ‘widespread use of English within all communities and institutions of the land.’ Citizens were ‘expected to have an overriding commitment to Australia and to accept the basic structures and principles of Australia’ – an expression not only of anti-immigrant sentiment, but also one intolerant of political dissent, given that One Nation’s policies also held that ‘organisations or individuals who deflect loyalty from Australia should be sidelined in debates on national issues.’
Furthermore, family law would be extensively reformed in response to demands from ‘fathers’ rights’ groups; Aboriginal land rights were to be extinguished; and arts and cultural funding was to be cut almost completely. Those who criticised One Nation as a ‘fascist’ group, with its overwhelming dedication to reactionary social policies, its commitment to the ‘leader’ (without Hanson, One Nation barely existed) and the overriding sense of persecution and paranoia that characterised its rhetoric, were not far off the mark. The anti-parliamentary support for ‘citizen-initiated referenda’ and the anti-judicial support for a panel of ‘ordinary citizens’ to survey judicial process and recommend dismissals suggest the barely-disguised authoritarianism inherent in One Nation’s ideology.
One Nation’s social policies were not merely reactionary, but revolutionary: they amounted to the greatest state-sponsored shift in values since the Whitlam era. A state under One Nation was to be transformed through all efforts of government: basic ideals of demography, culture, race relations, social ideals, and gender relations were to be reformed and shaped by an ambitious, far-reaching program to completely reject the last third of the twentieth century.
One Nation had few ideas for economic policy, with anti-state and interventionist groups within the party vying for influence. [6] The party aimed to re-introduce extensive and substantial tariff protection for Australian industries. They aimed to create a ‘people’s bank’, providing loans at a 2% interest rate and guaranteed by the government, in order to reinvest in industry. Their employment policies were perhaps the most extensive and interesting; apprentices were to be hired at state-sponsored wages (80% of salary for the first year of employment) to boost blue-collar industries. One Nation’s right-wing ideology was really largely a matter of social policy; economically, they were classic ‘agrarian socialists’, insofar as they had any policies at all. Their nationalism and rejection of ‘economic rationalism’ led to a commitment for increased funding for regional and rural services. In their continued commitment to big-government, economically interventionist, wage-subsidising, expensive expenditure policies, One Nation actually carved out a space to the left of both major parties. [7]
Having aided in breaking the bipartisan consensus over social policies, Hanson turned to pondering her political future. The community outrage over Kartinyeri in late 1997 drew her attention to Queensland politics. Polling indicated that, if she were to run, she could hold the balance of power in the Queensland Parliament.
Hence, in December 1997 Hanson announced that she would leave federal politics to contest the next Queensland state election, due mid-1998. At the time, many of her sympathisers in the media criticised this, claiming that if she had stayed in federal Parliament, she could have continued to influence the national debate. As it was, she was seen as merely aiming for a measure of power over parochial issues.
Not for the first or last time, the media were wrong.
Conquering Queensland: The Election
Hanson’s victory in the 1998 Queensland election can be attributed to five main factors.
First was her extraordinary popularity in her own right. Given media interest in her unusual style and policies, she was subjected to a flood of media coverage from the outset. This only served to help her. When she was articulate, the people knew; when she made gaffes, the people sympathised. As the Borbidge government flagged in the polls, she was increasingly treated as an alternative premier, participating in televised debates and maintaining a punishing media schedule. The Queensland electorate did not endorse One Nation policies, which were superficial generalities, or One Nation candidates; they endorsed Pauline Hanson.
However, One Nation candidates did play a role. Prior to Hanson’s move to state politics, it seemed likely that One Nation would endorse mediocre cranks and lunatics, give them very little publicity, and largely run simply to ‘fly the flag’. [5] That Hanson herself was running, rather than simply the ramshackle Queensland apparatus that existed independent from her, served to encourage reasonably respectable local personages to sign up to the cause – aided, no doubt, by the prospect of actual victory. [6] It ran a prominent local solicitor, Angus Lockey [7], in the seat of Hinchinbrook, who gave some intellectual credibility to the movement, along with Dr John Kingston in Maryborough. [8]
The third factor was a weak Coalition government. National Party premier Rob Borbidge held power only with the support of a sympathetic independent; his government, tied as it was with Howard’s increasingly unpopular federal government (particularly with his plans to introduce a GST and stronger gun controls), seemed drifting and intellectually bankrupt. In particular, rural areas, used to extensive subsidies under protectionism and the Joh Bjelke-Petersen regime, grew increasingly discontented with Borbidge’s hard-right economics and the federal anti-tariff policies.
The fourth factor was the Labor Party. National journalistic focus on Queensland paid dividends for One Nation with the revelation of extensive branch-stacking and electoral corruption in Queensland Labor; former state party president Mike Kaiser had his pre-selection for a safe seat withdrawn, sparking extensive party infighting. Opposition Leader Peter Beattie failed to capture the imagination of the voters; in particular, his populist charisma was overshadowed by Hanson’s increasingly strident appeals directly to the electorate, through tours of rural areas.
The fifth factor was National Party and Liberal Party preferences. Borbidge, recognising the impending mass defection of much of his party base, concluded a deal with One Nation for second-preferences in Queensland’s optional preferential system. [9] This way, he hoped, most One Nation voters would waste their votes in unwinnable seats, with their support flowing back to the Nationals through preferences. This, however, backfired, with extensive Liberal support in Queensland flowing to Labor through revulsion with Hanson’s policies.
The results of the election, on 13 June 1998, were a mammoth shock to every political observer. Some had predicted that One Nation would outpoll the Coalition; some predicted that Hanson would hold the balance of power; none, however, predicted the scale of the victory. Preferences made actual counting chaotic: the Nationals lost their safest seats to One Nation, while extreme marginal seats saw swings to the government. After extensive counting, Labor emerged with 39 seats, One Nation with 26, the Nationals with 15, the Liberals with 7, and with two independents. [8] The final vote tally was Labor 33.1% of the vote, One Nation 28%, Liberals with 14.6%, and the Nationals reduced to just 12.9%, with the rest scattered between independents and the Greens.
It was the election that stunned the world. From just a single disendorsed Liberal two years before, One Nation had become the largest conservative party in a hung Queensland parliament. The question was not whether Pauline Hanson would become Premier of Queensland, but on what terms.
[1] Paul Kelly’s theory of the ‘Australian settlement’.
[2] Andrew Markus, Race, 2001.
[3] Andrew Markus, Race, 2001.
[4] The POD. Kirby J dissented in OTL; in TTL, he was joined by Gaudron, Toohey and Brennan, forming a majority. In OTL, Toohey left the court the day before the judgment was handed out; in TTL, the case was heard some months earlier, due to a number of minor cases not proceeding to the High Court.
[5] Andrew Markus, Race, 2001.
[6] In TTL, Easytax is never considered. In OTL, Easytax, a consumption tax of 2% on everything, did more to damage One Nation’s credibility than even the palpable insanity of many of its supporters.
[7] Policies are from Andrew Markus, Race, 2001 and One Nation’s website from the time, accessible at www.gwb.com.au/gwb/hanson.html Marvel at late 90s web design – how far we’ve come.
[8] As in OTL.
[9] This is one of the main reasons why fringe parties don’t do well – if you’re on the fringe, no one will run, because they won’t win. The only people who do run are so off-putting that no one votes for you, and you stay on the fringe. That One Nation did so well in OTL seems more bizarre the more you think about it.
[10] Fictional name – I’m sure there are prominent local solicitors sympathetic to One Nation in Hinchinbrook, but I don’t know their names. I needed an Attorney-General and a big swing in Hinchinbrook, so I chose him.
[11] As in OTL.
[12] In OTL, One Nation did not give preferences; preference flows in TTL serve to deprive Labor of a majority.
[13] OTL result of 44 Labor, 11 One Nation, Liberal 9, Nationals 23. From the base of OTL 1998 results, Labor lost 9 seats to One Nation, the Nationals lost 6, 2 seats were lost from the Liberals to Labor, and 2 from Nationals to Labor.
Election Night, 13 June 1998...
It was madness in the tally room – Labor operatives screaming for numbers, Liberals taking off their shoes to add up preference flows with their toes, and Nationals openly weeping on the floor. ABC journalists intoned sombrely up above, and somewhere, Antony Green was doing the numbers.
In One Nation’s corner of the floor – guarded by two ex-bikers, turned to messianic and muscular Christianity – Samantha Calden and Mark Vass took calls from scrutineers, scratched numbers out with rapidly emptying pens, and sloshed cups of acrid coffee.
‘Mackay’s down,’ Mark said, after a panicked and hysterical phone call from a central Queensland booth. ’51 to 49, Labor second. Scratch it up as one of ours.’
A moment’s pause. ‘Done.’ Samantha’s mouth moved softly as she counted down rows of hastily-written names. ‘That’s fourteen seats from Labor, two unconfirmed – twelve seats from the Nats, one still too close to call – Jesus Christ, Mark, I think we’ve won.’
Mark blinked. He dropped his pen. ‘What do you mean, won? We’ve got barely a quarter of the seats – we’ll just be kingmakers in a –‘
‘Pay attention, bozo,’ she snapped, somewhat affectionately. ‘The Coalition will never back Labor. Not in a million years. I don’t care if we’re in a coalition or minority or whatever, but this is it. We won the election, and Pauline’s going to be Premier.’
She smiled. Tall, blond, and faintly tanned, she was denied beauty only by ink-stained fingers, scuffed suits and a complete unconcern for physical appearance. Even so, Mark was hopelessly, secretly, overwhelmingly besotted.
On her passport, Samantha Calden called herself a ‘poet’, because they’d disallowed ‘crusader’. Born under Bjelke-Petersen’s comforting paternalism, she had the brains to go to university, but didn’t – they had nothing to teach her that she needed or valued. Instead, she’d drifted through the fringes of right-wing groups – she’d run the numbers for Joh for Canberra, manned booths for the Confederate Action Party, and even spent time as an independent councillor on the Sunshine Coast, crusading against drugs, youth and crime. To scratch out a living otherwise, she wrote poems about national greatness and natural beauty – sunshine on the wattles, blood spilt for our national heritage, and otherwise. She was a true believer in the cause; a devout, messianic machine hack, who dreamt of the day when she’d be called upon to give her life for Hanson and Australia. Every fantasy she had was of divine sacrifice and martyrdom. She lived her life by certain simplicities – white Australia, Christianity, ‘traditional values’, national unity, and respect for heritage. She was Hanson’s campaign manager.
Mark Vass had arrived at Hansonism by a different route. On his passport, he wrote ‘political adviser’. He’d worked with Wayne Goss, until Kevin Rudd threw a dinner plate at his head – he’d masterminded Keating’s Queensland strategy in 1993, until resigning in an epithet-filled missive – and he’d devoted all but two years of his political life to the Australian Labor Party. He didn’t believe in white Australia. He didn’t oppose land rights. He didn’t oppose multiculturalism. He just didn’t care, one way or another – he believed ‘social stuff’ was entirely outside the scope of what government should do.
Instead, Mark had been trained in economics. Where the dispossession of Aborigines left him entirely cold, he could shed real tears over privatisation. Where Bjelke-Petersen’s authoritarianism seemed to him simply ‘firm government’, he’d marched for years against his underfunding of public services. If you asked him about any aspect of Christian doctrine, he’d draw a blank; but if you’d asked him about the provision of services to regional areas and the role of the welfare state in promoting egalitarianism, he’d rattle off a spiel more precious to him than any religion. He’d been drawn to Hanson out of disgust with modern Labor, which he saw as having sold out socialism and the workers. He moved awkwardly amongst the right-wing ideologues who comprised the brains trust of the movement, but had risen to the top through political skills and obvious intelligence. He was Hanson’s policy director.
Another call came in – this time, from Hinchinbrook, where Angus Lockey had opened up a commanding lead. He wrote down the numbers, and turned to Samantha. ‘We’d better call Pauline.’
The Day After, 14 June 1998...
1 AM on the Sunshine Coast. The ragged remains of the parliamentary National Party limped back to Rob Borbidge’s office, to lick their wounds and cry into their beers.
Ministers had lost their seats. The party’s vote total had fallen to an unsurpassed extent in Australian history – less than 13% had given the party their first preference, where once the Nationals had ruled Queensland alone and supreme. Only the strange apportionment of Queensland seats had allowed them to retain a solid caucus. But it was obvious to all that the Borbidge premiership had ended, and in the most disastrous of ways.
A grizzled operative, Timothy Quick, who’d seemed elderly even since Joh, snapped down the phone. ‘Just talked to Santoro,’ he growled. ‘The Libs will follow us, whatever we do. Seems Howard’s been on the phone – if they back Beattie, they’re all dead meat.’
‘Good.’ Borbidge still seemed shattered. He’d thought, even up to election day, that he would be re-elected. He’d gone from peacock to feather duster. ‘Should we make the call to Hanson?’
‘I’d advise against it, sir,’ said Meakin – Borbidge didn’t know his last name, didn’t much care. He was the son of a Gold Coast property developer, shunted onto the campaign to gain ‘life experience’, in return for contributions. It was a necessary evil. ‘We don’t want to show that we’re desperate. The more aloof we seem, the better deal we’ll get.’
Quick scowled. ‘Listen, you little uni prick, you don’t know nothing about politics. We are goddamn desperate. They’ll cut any deal they want out of our hides, get us to lick their boots and make us like it. What, you think we’ll get something out of delaying the inevitable?’
‘There’s no need to talk to me like that,’ said Meakin, smoothly. ‘All I’m suggesting is, make a few feints towards Labor, suggest a new election to the media, and then they’ll offer us half the cabinet. That’s really the best deal we can get, isn’t it?’
Away from the growing argument, Lawrence Springborg – young, fit, slightly clueless – edged closer to Borbidge. ‘Rob,’ he said, quietly. ‘I kept my seat by three thousand votes. A new election would kill me, mate. You send us back to the polls, it’ll make us look like sore losers – like politicians. It’d be the end of the National Party.’
‘Yeah, I know, mate,’ Borbidge drawled. ‘But what the hell do you think we should do? One Nation are cavemen. Just absolute effing idiots. We let them into government, on any terms, and Queensland’s screwed. Worse, if we go into coalition with them, we’ll get blamed for anything they do. That stupid bloody People’s Bank and all. You think people will vote for the Nats once we get Hanson’s footprints all over us?’
Springborg shrugged. ‘When you lose, you lose,’ he said. ‘We lost. So we move on.’
Arranging Government
Borbidge’s first offer to Hanson, two days after the election, was intentionally outrageous. Half the cabinet, including the Treasury; acceptance of the entire National Party policy platform; and a new election in 18 months. One Nation would have gained the premiership, but little else. This deal was rejected out of hand.
Hanson’s counter-offer was formulated by her chief political strategist, Samantha Calden. The Nationals would receive three cabinet positions: Treasury, Education and Industrial Relations. Their policies would be considered on a case-by-case basis. In return, they would guarantee passage of all One Nation bills, and agree to extend the parliamentary term to four years.
This deal came close to acceptance, until it was leaked to Nationals Senator Bill O’Chee. O’Chee, an economic ‘dry’ of mixed Chinese and Irish descent, was outraged at the notion of a coalition with a racist, anti-economic rationalist party. He urged federal Nationals leader Tim Fischer and Prime Minister John Howard to veto any coalition, and leaked the proposed deal to the media. Ensuing outrage scuppered the plan.
Ironically, this served One Nation’s interests better than any other proposed deal. Tentative overtures were made by Borbidge to Beattie for a six-month ‘grand coalition’, to keep One Nation out of power; however, inability to agree on any aspect of government, and personal hostility, made this an unviable option. Two weeks after the election, Queensland still had no deal for a future government.
Finally, a deal was concluded between Hanson and Borbidge, signed by both party leaders on 4 July, 1998. One Nation would form minority government, backed on matters of supply by the Nationals and Liberals. The Nationals would retain discretion as to whether to support or oppose bills, but would be required to negotiate with One Nation prior to blocking government legislation. The National’s spending promises -- $4.8 billion in capital works projects, largely pork-barrelling rather than government policies – were to be implemented.
It was a capitulation by the Coalition, brought about by federal interference rather than genuine policy concord. Instead of distancing the Nationals from One Nation, it instead served to tar the Nationals even further – One Nation would now have executive carte blanche to implement its program. The revolution had begun.
It's good to be back writing again.
Revolutionaries
The One Nation Government in Queensland, 1998-2001
The One Nation Government in Queensland, 1998-2001
Prologue
The Hanson government in Queensland was the most important state government, in terms of its political consequences, of the last half of the twentieth century. It challenged the essential foundations of Australian governance in the modern age: that economic rationalism is the only pragmatic course; that the two-party system is fixed and immutable; that the states are destined to decline into mere ‘service providers’, without capacity to form policy or shape the national debate. It shattered certain long-standing beliefs about Australia: that tolerance is deep-seated, that radicalism cannot inspire and motivate voters, and that conservative fiscal policies hold wide support within the community. It was a radical government, despite its conservative facade, and we still feel its effects in 2008.
A broad social and economic consensus, dating from Federation, was shattered by the Whitlam and Hawke governments. [1] To the extent governments prior to Whitlam considered social and cultural policies at all, they were instinctively conservative; economic policies were protectionist, paternalistic, and dominated by the politics of pork-barrelling. The arrival of economic rationalism, cultural liberalism, feminism, multiculturalism, free trade, and Aboriginal land rights was a peaceful revolution that replaced, all but completely, the Australia of decades previous.
The first symptoms of the Hanson revolution could be seen in the short-lived Howard government (1996-1998), elected in a landslide against the economically and socially reformist Paul Keating. (Hanson’s entire political persona and agenda were formulated as a rejection of everything Keating stood for.) Howard attempted to forge an electoral coalition of conservative blue-collar workers and the traditional Liberal base in small business. Had it not been for the Hanson phenomenon, he might well have succeeded; however, the sweeping reaction to the bipartisan consensus of 1972 to 1996 would instead be dominated by Pauline Hanson, who would destroy his government, arouse deep and rousing passions in the Australian electorate, and ultimately seize control of the third-largest state in the Australian federation.
Hansonism, 1996-1998
Pauline Hanson was a small-business (fish and chips) owner-operator in the hinterland city of Ipswich, long a Labor heartland. She was drawn to politics by social concerns: her opposition to Aboriginal affairs policies, multiculturalism, social liberalism and Asian immigration prompted her to stand for Liberal preselection prior to the 1996 election. At the time, she was given no chance of success; the seat of Oxley, held by Labor continuously for 35 years, was thought impregnable.
Once her letter to the local newspaper, the Queensland Times, decrying Aboriginal welfare, was published, however, she became a national sensation. Although disendorsed by the federal Liberal Party, she remained on the ballot as a Liberal candidate. Her simplistic, conservative populism appealed to local voters, who had suffered high rates of unemployment due to the decline of local industry. Her appeal was that of the ‘anti-politician’: uncharismatic, poorly educated, and frequently lapsing into ungrammatical spiels, she reflected deep-seated antagonism towards the two-party system. She was swept into Parliament with a double-digit swing against Labor.
Once in Parliament, Hanson attracted enormous publicity. In 1997, she was the second-most talked about person on radio and television, behind only the Prime Minister. [2] Her maiden speech, which combined a populist attack on Aborigines, immigrants, politicians and ill-defined ‘elites’ with a strident Australian nationalism, became a clarion call to many disenfranchised Australians. In October 1996, a hypothetical ‘Hanson-led party’ was polling at 18% of the vote, unprecedented support for a third party in Australian polling history. [3]
In early 1997, Hanson formed the One Nation party. Howard, recognising the threat posed by the new party to his hold on rural and socially conservative voters, attempted to pitch to the right. In particular, his response to the Kartinyeri decision, wherein the High Court struck down his attempts to override native title on Hindmarsh Island [4], was to criticise ‘political judges’, extensively amend native title legislation, and cut funds from the Aboriginal aid budget.
One Nation’s policies bear close examination, not because they shifted votes (they reflected the sentiments of existing voters, rather than attempting to appeal) but of what they represent of Hanson’s support base. The concerns of the party were almost entirely areas of social and cultural policy. They promised to cut most spending on Aboriginal affairs; to abolish policies of multiculturalism and dramatically decrease immigration, working to encourage ‘widespread use of English within all communities and institutions of the land.’ Citizens were ‘expected to have an overriding commitment to Australia and to accept the basic structures and principles of Australia’ – an expression not only of anti-immigrant sentiment, but also one intolerant of political dissent, given that One Nation’s policies also held that ‘organisations or individuals who deflect loyalty from Australia should be sidelined in debates on national issues.’
Furthermore, family law would be extensively reformed in response to demands from ‘fathers’ rights’ groups; Aboriginal land rights were to be extinguished; and arts and cultural funding was to be cut almost completely. Those who criticised One Nation as a ‘fascist’ group, with its overwhelming dedication to reactionary social policies, its commitment to the ‘leader’ (without Hanson, One Nation barely existed) and the overriding sense of persecution and paranoia that characterised its rhetoric, were not far off the mark. The anti-parliamentary support for ‘citizen-initiated referenda’ and the anti-judicial support for a panel of ‘ordinary citizens’ to survey judicial process and recommend dismissals suggest the barely-disguised authoritarianism inherent in One Nation’s ideology.
One Nation’s social policies were not merely reactionary, but revolutionary: they amounted to the greatest state-sponsored shift in values since the Whitlam era. A state under One Nation was to be transformed through all efforts of government: basic ideals of demography, culture, race relations, social ideals, and gender relations were to be reformed and shaped by an ambitious, far-reaching program to completely reject the last third of the twentieth century.
One Nation had few ideas for economic policy, with anti-state and interventionist groups within the party vying for influence. [6] The party aimed to re-introduce extensive and substantial tariff protection for Australian industries. They aimed to create a ‘people’s bank’, providing loans at a 2% interest rate and guaranteed by the government, in order to reinvest in industry. Their employment policies were perhaps the most extensive and interesting; apprentices were to be hired at state-sponsored wages (80% of salary for the first year of employment) to boost blue-collar industries. One Nation’s right-wing ideology was really largely a matter of social policy; economically, they were classic ‘agrarian socialists’, insofar as they had any policies at all. Their nationalism and rejection of ‘economic rationalism’ led to a commitment for increased funding for regional and rural services. In their continued commitment to big-government, economically interventionist, wage-subsidising, expensive expenditure policies, One Nation actually carved out a space to the left of both major parties. [7]
Having aided in breaking the bipartisan consensus over social policies, Hanson turned to pondering her political future. The community outrage over Kartinyeri in late 1997 drew her attention to Queensland politics. Polling indicated that, if she were to run, she could hold the balance of power in the Queensland Parliament.
Hence, in December 1997 Hanson announced that she would leave federal politics to contest the next Queensland state election, due mid-1998. At the time, many of her sympathisers in the media criticised this, claiming that if she had stayed in federal Parliament, she could have continued to influence the national debate. As it was, she was seen as merely aiming for a measure of power over parochial issues.
Not for the first or last time, the media were wrong.
Conquering Queensland: The Election
Hanson’s victory in the 1998 Queensland election can be attributed to five main factors.
First was her extraordinary popularity in her own right. Given media interest in her unusual style and policies, she was subjected to a flood of media coverage from the outset. This only served to help her. When she was articulate, the people knew; when she made gaffes, the people sympathised. As the Borbidge government flagged in the polls, she was increasingly treated as an alternative premier, participating in televised debates and maintaining a punishing media schedule. The Queensland electorate did not endorse One Nation policies, which were superficial generalities, or One Nation candidates; they endorsed Pauline Hanson.
However, One Nation candidates did play a role. Prior to Hanson’s move to state politics, it seemed likely that One Nation would endorse mediocre cranks and lunatics, give them very little publicity, and largely run simply to ‘fly the flag’. [5] That Hanson herself was running, rather than simply the ramshackle Queensland apparatus that existed independent from her, served to encourage reasonably respectable local personages to sign up to the cause – aided, no doubt, by the prospect of actual victory. [6] It ran a prominent local solicitor, Angus Lockey [7], in the seat of Hinchinbrook, who gave some intellectual credibility to the movement, along with Dr John Kingston in Maryborough. [8]
The third factor was a weak Coalition government. National Party premier Rob Borbidge held power only with the support of a sympathetic independent; his government, tied as it was with Howard’s increasingly unpopular federal government (particularly with his plans to introduce a GST and stronger gun controls), seemed drifting and intellectually bankrupt. In particular, rural areas, used to extensive subsidies under protectionism and the Joh Bjelke-Petersen regime, grew increasingly discontented with Borbidge’s hard-right economics and the federal anti-tariff policies.
The fourth factor was the Labor Party. National journalistic focus on Queensland paid dividends for One Nation with the revelation of extensive branch-stacking and electoral corruption in Queensland Labor; former state party president Mike Kaiser had his pre-selection for a safe seat withdrawn, sparking extensive party infighting. Opposition Leader Peter Beattie failed to capture the imagination of the voters; in particular, his populist charisma was overshadowed by Hanson’s increasingly strident appeals directly to the electorate, through tours of rural areas.
The fifth factor was National Party and Liberal Party preferences. Borbidge, recognising the impending mass defection of much of his party base, concluded a deal with One Nation for second-preferences in Queensland’s optional preferential system. [9] This way, he hoped, most One Nation voters would waste their votes in unwinnable seats, with their support flowing back to the Nationals through preferences. This, however, backfired, with extensive Liberal support in Queensland flowing to Labor through revulsion with Hanson’s policies.
The results of the election, on 13 June 1998, were a mammoth shock to every political observer. Some had predicted that One Nation would outpoll the Coalition; some predicted that Hanson would hold the balance of power; none, however, predicted the scale of the victory. Preferences made actual counting chaotic: the Nationals lost their safest seats to One Nation, while extreme marginal seats saw swings to the government. After extensive counting, Labor emerged with 39 seats, One Nation with 26, the Nationals with 15, the Liberals with 7, and with two independents. [8] The final vote tally was Labor 33.1% of the vote, One Nation 28%, Liberals with 14.6%, and the Nationals reduced to just 12.9%, with the rest scattered between independents and the Greens.
It was the election that stunned the world. From just a single disendorsed Liberal two years before, One Nation had become the largest conservative party in a hung Queensland parliament. The question was not whether Pauline Hanson would become Premier of Queensland, but on what terms.
[1] Paul Kelly’s theory of the ‘Australian settlement’.
[2] Andrew Markus, Race, 2001.
[3] Andrew Markus, Race, 2001.
[4] The POD. Kirby J dissented in OTL; in TTL, he was joined by Gaudron, Toohey and Brennan, forming a majority. In OTL, Toohey left the court the day before the judgment was handed out; in TTL, the case was heard some months earlier, due to a number of minor cases not proceeding to the High Court.
[5] Andrew Markus, Race, 2001.
[6] In TTL, Easytax is never considered. In OTL, Easytax, a consumption tax of 2% on everything, did more to damage One Nation’s credibility than even the palpable insanity of many of its supporters.
[7] Policies are from Andrew Markus, Race, 2001 and One Nation’s website from the time, accessible at www.gwb.com.au/gwb/hanson.html Marvel at late 90s web design – how far we’ve come.
[8] As in OTL.
[9] This is one of the main reasons why fringe parties don’t do well – if you’re on the fringe, no one will run, because they won’t win. The only people who do run are so off-putting that no one votes for you, and you stay on the fringe. That One Nation did so well in OTL seems more bizarre the more you think about it.
[10] Fictional name – I’m sure there are prominent local solicitors sympathetic to One Nation in Hinchinbrook, but I don’t know their names. I needed an Attorney-General and a big swing in Hinchinbrook, so I chose him.
[11] As in OTL.
[12] In OTL, One Nation did not give preferences; preference flows in TTL serve to deprive Labor of a majority.
[13] OTL result of 44 Labor, 11 One Nation, Liberal 9, Nationals 23. From the base of OTL 1998 results, Labor lost 9 seats to One Nation, the Nationals lost 6, 2 seats were lost from the Liberals to Labor, and 2 from Nationals to Labor.
Election Night, 13 June 1998...
It was madness in the tally room – Labor operatives screaming for numbers, Liberals taking off their shoes to add up preference flows with their toes, and Nationals openly weeping on the floor. ABC journalists intoned sombrely up above, and somewhere, Antony Green was doing the numbers.
In One Nation’s corner of the floor – guarded by two ex-bikers, turned to messianic and muscular Christianity – Samantha Calden and Mark Vass took calls from scrutineers, scratched numbers out with rapidly emptying pens, and sloshed cups of acrid coffee.
‘Mackay’s down,’ Mark said, after a panicked and hysterical phone call from a central Queensland booth. ’51 to 49, Labor second. Scratch it up as one of ours.’
A moment’s pause. ‘Done.’ Samantha’s mouth moved softly as she counted down rows of hastily-written names. ‘That’s fourteen seats from Labor, two unconfirmed – twelve seats from the Nats, one still too close to call – Jesus Christ, Mark, I think we’ve won.’
Mark blinked. He dropped his pen. ‘What do you mean, won? We’ve got barely a quarter of the seats – we’ll just be kingmakers in a –‘
‘Pay attention, bozo,’ she snapped, somewhat affectionately. ‘The Coalition will never back Labor. Not in a million years. I don’t care if we’re in a coalition or minority or whatever, but this is it. We won the election, and Pauline’s going to be Premier.’
She smiled. Tall, blond, and faintly tanned, she was denied beauty only by ink-stained fingers, scuffed suits and a complete unconcern for physical appearance. Even so, Mark was hopelessly, secretly, overwhelmingly besotted.
On her passport, Samantha Calden called herself a ‘poet’, because they’d disallowed ‘crusader’. Born under Bjelke-Petersen’s comforting paternalism, she had the brains to go to university, but didn’t – they had nothing to teach her that she needed or valued. Instead, she’d drifted through the fringes of right-wing groups – she’d run the numbers for Joh for Canberra, manned booths for the Confederate Action Party, and even spent time as an independent councillor on the Sunshine Coast, crusading against drugs, youth and crime. To scratch out a living otherwise, she wrote poems about national greatness and natural beauty – sunshine on the wattles, blood spilt for our national heritage, and otherwise. She was a true believer in the cause; a devout, messianic machine hack, who dreamt of the day when she’d be called upon to give her life for Hanson and Australia. Every fantasy she had was of divine sacrifice and martyrdom. She lived her life by certain simplicities – white Australia, Christianity, ‘traditional values’, national unity, and respect for heritage. She was Hanson’s campaign manager.
Mark Vass had arrived at Hansonism by a different route. On his passport, he wrote ‘political adviser’. He’d worked with Wayne Goss, until Kevin Rudd threw a dinner plate at his head – he’d masterminded Keating’s Queensland strategy in 1993, until resigning in an epithet-filled missive – and he’d devoted all but two years of his political life to the Australian Labor Party. He didn’t believe in white Australia. He didn’t oppose land rights. He didn’t oppose multiculturalism. He just didn’t care, one way or another – he believed ‘social stuff’ was entirely outside the scope of what government should do.
Instead, Mark had been trained in economics. Where the dispossession of Aborigines left him entirely cold, he could shed real tears over privatisation. Where Bjelke-Petersen’s authoritarianism seemed to him simply ‘firm government’, he’d marched for years against his underfunding of public services. If you asked him about any aspect of Christian doctrine, he’d draw a blank; but if you’d asked him about the provision of services to regional areas and the role of the welfare state in promoting egalitarianism, he’d rattle off a spiel more precious to him than any religion. He’d been drawn to Hanson out of disgust with modern Labor, which he saw as having sold out socialism and the workers. He moved awkwardly amongst the right-wing ideologues who comprised the brains trust of the movement, but had risen to the top through political skills and obvious intelligence. He was Hanson’s policy director.
Another call came in – this time, from Hinchinbrook, where Angus Lockey had opened up a commanding lead. He wrote down the numbers, and turned to Samantha. ‘We’d better call Pauline.’
The Day After, 14 June 1998...
1 AM on the Sunshine Coast. The ragged remains of the parliamentary National Party limped back to Rob Borbidge’s office, to lick their wounds and cry into their beers.
Ministers had lost their seats. The party’s vote total had fallen to an unsurpassed extent in Australian history – less than 13% had given the party their first preference, where once the Nationals had ruled Queensland alone and supreme. Only the strange apportionment of Queensland seats had allowed them to retain a solid caucus. But it was obvious to all that the Borbidge premiership had ended, and in the most disastrous of ways.
A grizzled operative, Timothy Quick, who’d seemed elderly even since Joh, snapped down the phone. ‘Just talked to Santoro,’ he growled. ‘The Libs will follow us, whatever we do. Seems Howard’s been on the phone – if they back Beattie, they’re all dead meat.’
‘Good.’ Borbidge still seemed shattered. He’d thought, even up to election day, that he would be re-elected. He’d gone from peacock to feather duster. ‘Should we make the call to Hanson?’
‘I’d advise against it, sir,’ said Meakin – Borbidge didn’t know his last name, didn’t much care. He was the son of a Gold Coast property developer, shunted onto the campaign to gain ‘life experience’, in return for contributions. It was a necessary evil. ‘We don’t want to show that we’re desperate. The more aloof we seem, the better deal we’ll get.’
Quick scowled. ‘Listen, you little uni prick, you don’t know nothing about politics. We are goddamn desperate. They’ll cut any deal they want out of our hides, get us to lick their boots and make us like it. What, you think we’ll get something out of delaying the inevitable?’
‘There’s no need to talk to me like that,’ said Meakin, smoothly. ‘All I’m suggesting is, make a few feints towards Labor, suggest a new election to the media, and then they’ll offer us half the cabinet. That’s really the best deal we can get, isn’t it?’
Away from the growing argument, Lawrence Springborg – young, fit, slightly clueless – edged closer to Borbidge. ‘Rob,’ he said, quietly. ‘I kept my seat by three thousand votes. A new election would kill me, mate. You send us back to the polls, it’ll make us look like sore losers – like politicians. It’d be the end of the National Party.’
‘Yeah, I know, mate,’ Borbidge drawled. ‘But what the hell do you think we should do? One Nation are cavemen. Just absolute effing idiots. We let them into government, on any terms, and Queensland’s screwed. Worse, if we go into coalition with them, we’ll get blamed for anything they do. That stupid bloody People’s Bank and all. You think people will vote for the Nats once we get Hanson’s footprints all over us?’
Springborg shrugged. ‘When you lose, you lose,’ he said. ‘We lost. So we move on.’
Arranging Government
Borbidge’s first offer to Hanson, two days after the election, was intentionally outrageous. Half the cabinet, including the Treasury; acceptance of the entire National Party policy platform; and a new election in 18 months. One Nation would have gained the premiership, but little else. This deal was rejected out of hand.
Hanson’s counter-offer was formulated by her chief political strategist, Samantha Calden. The Nationals would receive three cabinet positions: Treasury, Education and Industrial Relations. Their policies would be considered on a case-by-case basis. In return, they would guarantee passage of all One Nation bills, and agree to extend the parliamentary term to four years.
This deal came close to acceptance, until it was leaked to Nationals Senator Bill O’Chee. O’Chee, an economic ‘dry’ of mixed Chinese and Irish descent, was outraged at the notion of a coalition with a racist, anti-economic rationalist party. He urged federal Nationals leader Tim Fischer and Prime Minister John Howard to veto any coalition, and leaked the proposed deal to the media. Ensuing outrage scuppered the plan.
Ironically, this served One Nation’s interests better than any other proposed deal. Tentative overtures were made by Borbidge to Beattie for a six-month ‘grand coalition’, to keep One Nation out of power; however, inability to agree on any aspect of government, and personal hostility, made this an unviable option. Two weeks after the election, Queensland still had no deal for a future government.
Finally, a deal was concluded between Hanson and Borbidge, signed by both party leaders on 4 July, 1998. One Nation would form minority government, backed on matters of supply by the Nationals and Liberals. The Nationals would retain discretion as to whether to support or oppose bills, but would be required to negotiate with One Nation prior to blocking government legislation. The National’s spending promises -- $4.8 billion in capital works projects, largely pork-barrelling rather than government policies – were to be implemented.
It was a capitulation by the Coalition, brought about by federal interference rather than genuine policy concord. Instead of distancing the Nationals from One Nation, it instead served to tar the Nationals even further – One Nation would now have executive carte blanche to implement its program. The revolution had begun.
