Dateline: Menzies' Legacy
SBS, Saturday, October 1, 7.30pm
Reviewed by Frank Enright
It is rare that "elder statesmen" and good mates Gough Whitlam and Malcolm Fraser disagree nowadays. The historical record of twice prime minister Robert Gordon Menzies is, however, one bone of contention, as viewers of Paul Murphy's documentary will discover. The political life and times of Menzies in large measure mirror that of Australia in one of the important periods of its history. Because of this, it is beyond the scope of any one documentary to deal adequately with the subject.
Despite this, the old Movietone newsreel footage alone makes this a must to watch; the blatantly biased, patronising and hectoring tone of this celluloid record of Australian history is comic today, but also a little scary.
The documentary's significant weakness is that Murphy's chosen interviewees range from Gough Whitlam rightward — ending with that time traveller hopelessly lost somewhere in the 19th century, David McNicoll of the Bulletin. The documentary is disappointingly safe.
Paul Keating makes a guest appearance to correctly describe Menzies as a significant, but not great, Australian. As others point out, much of Menzies' electoral success came gratis, care of the long postwar economic boom which bought relative social peace and prosperity. But Menzies was also a political animal of the worst order: cunning, opportunistic and deceitful — and clever enough to get away with it.
Born in the Victorian town of Jeparit 100 years ago, Menzies was a bright student who studied law at Melbourne University. Later he became a High Court barrister and, after a spell as attorney general in Victoria, went on to become prime minister in 1939 at the head of the United Australia Party.
Dumped as PM in 1941 by the UAP, he later broke away and formed the modern day Liberal Party, a party he was to dominate for the next 22 years. Menzies' autocratic rule lasted from 1949 to 1966, when he retired.
McNicoll, the media's own grand poobah of the loony right, revealed on early television footage as an obsequious young interviewer in awe of the then prime minister, agrees with Murphy that Menzies had put Australia into hibernation for many years and argues that this was jolly good for the nation. Menzies knew best.
"British to the bootstraps" is an enduring memory for many of Australia's longest serving prime minister: fawning to the British, and later the US. This program confirms that. For Menzies, the royal family was the embodiment of all that was great about Britain and the "British world" he so loved. His quotation addressed to Queen Elizabeth in 1954 — "I did but see her passing by, and yet I'll love her till I die" — still makes one squirm.
As an aside: accustomed to the habitual hypocrisy of establishment politicians as we may be, viewers will be staggered by Keating's — correct — criticism of Menzies for not opposing Indonesia's annexation of West Papua. But what about Labor's support for Indonesia's even more brutal annexation of East Timor, you shout. But Murphy doesn't ask. I guess, to be fair, this is not the subject of the interview but, nevertheless, the frustration lingers.
The documentary's title is a bit of a misnomer, as Menzies' legacy, the Liberal Party after his retirement, is touched on with merciful brevity. Menzies was disappointed with Harold Holt and Billy McMahon, we are told. Perhaps Fraser may have met with the old man's approval, but it's been all down hill since then. As for the fruit of Queen Elizabeth's womb — enough said.
The world of Menzies — that of anticommunism, the white Australia policy, the Protestant ascendancy, women in the home, barefoot and pregnant, Aborigines as non-citizens, the Korean and Vietnam wars — has gone with him. Good riddance.
Finally, the program asks: does Alexander Downer have the ability of Robert Menzies? Odds are he won't be around long enough for us to find out.