John Howard (Bennelong, Liberal Party, Prime Minister) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

I move:

That the House record its deep regret at the deaths of the Honourable Sir Robert Carrington Cotton KCMG AO, former Federal Minister and Senator for New South Wales and Ambassador to the United States of America and the Honourable Sir James Denis Killen AC KCMG, former Federal Minister and Member for Moreton, Queensland; and place on record its appreciation of their long and meritorious service and tender its profound sympathy to their families in their bereavement.

In addressing this condolence motion I do so with an additional degree of personal feeling and fervour because of my long personal association with both of these remarkable men, who belonged to that remarkable generation that served Australia during World War II and then went on in public service to give so much to their country.

Sir Robert Cotton was born on 29 November 1915 at Broken Hill, New South Wales. He was the eldest of six children. He was educated at St Peter’s College in Adelaide and went on to qualify as an accountant. Throughout his entire public life he retained a deep interest in financial matters. After training as an RAAF bomber pilot during World War II, Bob and his family built successful regional business interests and established the pastoral company at Oberon known as Carrington Park.

Sir Robert Cotton was a foundation member of the Liberal Party. In 1947, in the first chapter of his political life, he ran against the then Prime Minister, Joseph Benedict Chifley, in the seat of Macquarie. He later held a range of senior positions in the Liberal Party, including president of the New South Wales division and federal vice-president. Between 1947 and 1950 he served as a councillor and as president of the Oberon Shire Council. When I joined the New South Wales division of the Liberal Party in the late 1950s, Bob Cotton was the president. Later, Senator Sir John Carrick was the general secretary, and both of them in different ways taught me a great deal about politics.

Bob Cotton was a person of immense personal charm. He had a very deep commitment to the welfare and the interests of this country. He had a capacity to engage people of different generations, and he was a splendid example of that injunction to all of us—that is, to grow old gracefully. Bob was appointed as a senator for New South Wales in 1966, and he held that position until 1978. He was appointed as the Minister for Civil Aviation in the Gorton and McMahon governments. In the Fraser government he served for two years as Minister for Manufacturing Industry, as Minister for Science and Consumer Affairs and as Minister for Industry and Commerce. In 1968 and 1969 he was the Government Whip in the Senate. Between 1976 and 1978 he was Deputy Leader of the Government in the Senate. He also served on a large number of Senate committees. In the lead-up to 11 November 1975, in the intense debates that occurred in the Senate on the then government’s supply and appropriation bills, Bob Cotton led the debate on behalf of the opposition parties. His very considerable understanding of public finances, gleaned from a lifetime of study, came very much to the fore during those debates.

In 1978, on retirement from representative political life, he was made a Knight Commander of the Most Distinguished Order of St Michael and St George for his services to government. In that year, he was appointed as Consul-General to New York. It marked something of a departure in the profile of those appointments and, with his business background and enthusiasm, he helped to boost Australia’s profile among financial and investment houses in the United States.

When he returned to Australia after serving in New York, he was appointed as a director on the board of the Reserve Bank for some two years. He was then appointed by the Fraser government as Australia’s Ambassador to the United States in 1982. It is worth noting that, when the Fraser government lost office in 1983, Bob Cotton remained as ambassador and was highly regarded therefore by both the Fraser and Hawke governments. In 1993 he was made an Officer of the Order of Australia for service to international relations. In his later life, Bob Cotton pursued photography and he held several exhibitions in the United States and in Australia, including a joint exhibition with his daughter Judy, a painter and writer, in Sydney in 2005.

Bob Cotton was a person of immense personal charm and decency. He took a great hands-on approach to life. He was warmly regarded on both sides of politics. And it is noteworthy that the wonderful funeral service held at St Peter’s Anglican Church in Cremorne on 2 January was attended by several prominent members of the Australian Labor Party, including the father of the member for Barton, the former High Commissioner for Australia in the United Kingdom, Mr Doug McClelland, and Mr Barrie Unsworth, the former Labor Premier of New South Wales, with whom Bob Cotton had formed a close friendship in earlier years.

Bob was blessed with a wonderfully close family. My wife, Janette, and I had the great privilege of attending Bob and Eve’s 50th and 60th wedding anniversary celebrations. Their long life partnership ended after some 63 years with Eve’s death some seven years ago. It was a source of very great pleasure to so many of us that Bob remarried some five years ago and, in the last years of his life, received the love and support of his second wife, Betty, whose family, along with Bob’s family from his first marriage, participated in the wonderful tribute to him in Sydney early in January.

I want to record my own deep, personal gratitude to Bob Cotton for the friendship, support, counsel and encouragement that he provided to me through my political career. When I joined the Liberal Party in the late 1950s, one of the things that struck me then and has stayed with me forever was the great personal integrity and optimistic view of life adopted by its organisational leaders such as Bob Cotton. I thank you, Bob, for your contribution to our party, and I record my deep gratitude and affection for the help that you have extended to me. To your three children—Bob, whom many of us know as a very distinguished diplomat and very distinguished member of the Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade, and your two daughters, Judy Cotton and Anne Ferguson—and their extended families and your widow, Betty, we extend our very deep sympathy. You have every reason to be immensely proud of 91 wonderfully lived years of a wonderful life.

I turn now to address some remarks to one of the great characters of this parliament. Along with Bob Cotton, I also served for the full duration of the Fraser government with Jim Killen as a ministerial colleague. Jim Killen, of course, is widely known throughout the Australian community not only for his great service to this great country but also for his remarkable wit, his great powers of oratory, his capacity to engage people on both sides of politics and the basic Australian humour and laconic style that he brought to his life.

He was born on 23 November 1925 in Dalby, Queensland. He left school at an early age to become a jackeroo and in 1943, at the age of 18, joined the RAAF, reaching the rank of Flight Sergeant Air Gunner. After the war, he completed a diploma course and became a wool classer.

Three years after joining the Liberal Party in 1946, Sir James became the Foundation President of the Young Liberal Movement of Queensland and a member of the state executive of the Liberal Party. From 1953 to 1956 he served as vice-president of the Queensland division. He was first elected to parliament in 1955—the same election that brought into this parliament such significant figures as Malcolm Fraser and Jim Cairns. He became the member for Moreton and he represented that electorate for 28 years, until his resignation in August 1983.

He served as Minister for the Navy in the Gorton government from 1969 to 1971, Minister for Defence in the Fraser government between 1975 and 1982 and Vice-President of the Executive Council and Leader of the House between 1982 and 1983. He was also Government Whip in the House of Representatives in 1967. He was knighted in 1982 and in 2004 was made a Companion of the Order of Australia.

It is fair to say of Jim Killen that he waited a significant period of time to be made a minister and his first stint as a member of a ministry was short-lived. I would not be doing his political memory proper service if I did not record the fact that he was a strong supporter and close friend of the late John Gorton. When Gorton was removed as leader of the Liberal Party or ceased to be leader of the Liberal Party—it is not quite historically accurate to say that Gorton was removed as leader of the Liberal Party—Jim Killen went with him. Jim’s famous ‘non telegram’ is, of course, part of Australia’s political folklore. Both Gough Whitlam and I, at the state funeral in Brisbane, recorded the fact that, whether or not that telegram had been sent, Killen truly had been magnificent.

Jim had a boisterous, engaging personality and he made friends on both sides of politics. He was a compelling orator. His friendships with Fred Daley and Gough Whitlam, which bridged the political divide in this country, engaged many Australians. They liked it and they warmed to the fact that people with different political views could become such good friends.

Jim’s personal life was touched by great tragedy in the early 1980s when his daughter Rosemary suffered a very long illness and finally succumbed to cancer, leaving two very young children in the care of Jim and his first wife, Joy. Those of us who worked with him and tried, in our very inadequate ways, to help Jim through that very difficult period will remember the terrible impact it had on him and the way in which it changed his life.

After the death of his wife Joy, the mother of his three daughters, Jim was able to find great happiness in his second marriage, to Benise. It was a source of very great comfort and happiness to his friends that he was able, later in life, after the death of his first wife, the mother of his three children, to find that happiness. Many of us on this side of the House and on the other side attended the state funeral held at the beautiful St John’s Cathedral in Brisbane. It was a remarkable tribute to somebody who had many circles of friends and influence. He never forgot his background in the Queensland bush, and he never lost his great love of horseracing. I suppose that he was at his happiest at Eagle Farm, as were many of his contemporaries.

Jim gave great service to the Liberal Party, and I remarked in my contribution at his state funeral that if he had not won the seat of Moreton—whether there was a telegram sent or not—the course of Australian political history in 1961 would have been radically altered. That particular victory, finally sealing a narrow win for the Menzies government, meant a great deal in the political history of this country. For that reason, Jim Killen will always be regarded as a hero in the annals of not only the Queensland Liberal Party but also the Liberal Party throughout Australia.

Jim was very kind to me during some of the more difficult periods the Liberal Party had in opposition in the 1980s. He would ring frequently with advice. It was always well meant, it was always very properly targeted and it was always very deeply appreciated. On behalf of all of my colleagues in the government and throughout the broader Australian Liberal family, I extend our deep sympathy to Lady Benise Killen and to Jim’s daughters, Diana and Heather, and to his grandchildren, Dana and Amanda.

In closing these remarks, I note that these two remarkable contributors to Australian public life gave a lot to the Liberal Party, and it is a party that will always be indebted to them. Their broader service and commitment, in both war and in peace, was to the Australian nation. Both of them belonged to that quite remarkable generation that came to adulthood during World War II and endured a different life. Because of what they endured, they bequeathed to all of us the peace, stability, cohesion and prosperity which is ours today in 2007. In that way, they represent the contribution of a generation that has meant so much to this country. All of us, individually and collectively, are in their debt.

Kevin Rudd (Griffith, Australian Labor Party, Leader of the Opposition) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

I second the condolence motion and support the remarks of the Prime Minister. On behalf of the Australian Labor Party, I extend our deepest sympathy to Lady Cotton and Sir Robert’s family. Sir Robert Carrington Cotton, or Bob Cotton, as he was better known, was a distinguished Australian who served his country in almost every way possible. He served with the Royal Australian Air Force during the Second World War. He served his community as a councillor, he served his state as a senator and he served his nation as a minister and as Consul-General to New York and later as Ambassador to the United States.

Sir Robert was a founding member of the Liberal Party of Australia and was a New South Wales state president of that party and federal vice-president. He had a significant influence on his party and was very well regarded by all of his party’s members. He was a loyal and faithful servant of the Liberal Party and, whilst I lead Australia’s other great political party, I respect his deep commitment to the cause which the other side of politics in this country represents.

Sir Robert believed profoundly in Australia’s potential as a nation and in the potential of all Australians. He said in his first speech in the Senate:

I am a tremendous believer in the human resources of Australia. I have felt for some years that in peacetime we have never managed to obtain from the Australian people those qualities of initiative, leadership, character, ingenuity and resources which so characterise them in times of war. Faced with a challenge, the Australian people can rise to nearly any height. Their capacity is superb. In my humble view, the Australian people represent the greatest resource we have, as yet not fully utilised.

Sir Robert was also a great believer in Australia’s place in the world and, as noted before, he served with distinction in the United States. As the Prime Minister has noted, Sir Robert had many friends across the political divide. He stood unsuccessfully against Ben Chifley for the federal seat of Macquarie—and, if you look at the period that we are talking about, 1949, it took some considerable political guts to stand against Ben Chifley. Although he lost the seat, he was a friend of Chifley’s, having known him locally while he was a councillor and president of the neighbouring Oberon Shire.

He entered the Senate in 1965, during the Menzies government, and was later a minister in the Gorton, McMahon and Fraser governments. He held several portfolios, including civil aviation, industry and commerce. He left the ministry in 1977, and in the following year he was appointed as Consul-General to New York, a post in which he served until 1981. He became a close and warm friend of the United States, Australia’s most important ally. Prime Minister Fraser later appointed him as Ambassador to the United States, a position in which he stayed into the early years of the Hawke government.

On his return, Sir Robert held many distinguished positions with Australian companies and also made an important contribution to other areas of national public life, such as the National Gallery. For 70 years he was devoted to the art of photography and had his work exhibited both here and in the United States. He was knighted in 1978 and was awarded an Order of Australia in 1993. He will be fondly remembered by all of his parliamentary colleagues. On behalf of the federal parliamentary Labor Party, I offer my condolences to his family.

I turn now to Jim Killen. Almost unique among the politicians of our age, Jim Killen earned the almost universal affection of his political adversaries. It was not just respect but genuine affection, and that is a hard to thing to achieve in this hard business in which the Prime Minister and I are engaged—the business of politics. It is as if he is a passing reminder now of a kinder, gentler age in Australian politics. We all know that Prime Minister Menzies and Ben Chifley were tough adversaries, but that did not prevent them, from time to time on a cold winter’s evening here in Canberra after a day in question time, from sharing the odd glass of scotch with one another. We should not be too misty eyed about the past—the differences were great then; the differences are great now—and Jim Killen was part and parcel also of the politics of 1975, which included the dismissal, one of the most divisive events in modern Australian politics. But there was always something about Jim Killen that set him apart from the viciousness of it all and, as we honour him in this condolence motion, we should reflect on what it was about him that made him different.

The Liberal Party, of course, will honour him as one of their own, as they should, because his achievements have been considerable. For the Labor Party, Jim Killen was liked not just by Gough, not just by Fred Daly, not just by Clem Jones in my hometown of Brisbane, but by virtually all of us on this side of politics. Jim Killen was first and foremost a parliamentarian. He loved the parliament and he loved it with a passion. Parliament was in every sinew and fibre of his being. He loved the old parliament down at the end of the hill. He once described this new parliament up here as ‘the carbuncle on the hill’. He loved the Westminster tradition because of its continuity, taking us back to Runnymede and taking us forward to whatever challenges we face in the future. He loved its traditions, he loved its forms and he loved its language—and not purely for sentimental reasons; he was a classic Burkean conservative. He would always ask the question: why change things if they are working just fine?

Tom Burns, the then Deputy Premier of Queensland, was telling me about when he became Leader of the Opposition in Queensland after the 1974 state election, when Labor in that parliament was reduced to a cricket team and was despondent. Labor attended the opening of the state parliament that year, and Tom Burns was despondent; this had not been our finest hour. The one person to offer him a word of encouragement and advice was Jim Killen, who walked up to Tom and said, ‘Tom, your job is as leader of Her Majesty’s loyal opposition. You are integral to the functioning of this parliament. Your position is one of respect. Go to it; you’ve got a job to perform today.’ That says something about Jim, when, on occasions, your political opponents happen to be going through a lean season.

So whatever side of politics we are from in this place—whether we are progressives, whether we are conservatives, whether we are Liberal, whether we are Labor—when we think of Jim Killen, we think of someone whose career was life itself. His passion for the parliament did something to raise the esteem of the parliament in the minds and the imagination of the Australian people—something which we do not often do ourselves but which he in his life and career succeeded in doing. Of course, in parliament we also saw his wit and his infectious sense of humour. He was often able to deliver a blow effectively while removing from that blow the personal barb. Ian Bartlett wrote recently that Menzies was impressed with Killen’s parliamentary style and asked Killen how he had got it. Killen, recalling his days as a jackaroo, replied that he had crafted his parliamentary oratory by talking to sheep. Menzies, without missing a beat, replied, ‘Now I understand; the audience has not changed.’

Jim Killen’s and Fred Daly’s friendship is, of course, a matter of renown. They became ambassadors for good humour in the old parliament. At one time Jim and Fred organised for eight aspiring Liberal backbenchers with ministerial ambitions to report to Malcolm Fraser’s office immediately, as Mr Fraser was working on a reshuffle. All competitors arrived at the same time to discuss their place in the reshuffle for an appointment which did not exist. Pandemonium ensued and Killen and Daly laughed and laughed heartily. When Daly retired from politics in 1975, Killen sent him a telegram, which he reproduced in his memoirs. It said:

I learnt with very great regret of your decision to retire. Parliament will certainly be dull without you. Whether I survive politically or not, I will always recall with immense pleasure 20 years of vigorous conflict. If you arrive in heaven before me, plead vigorously on my behalf. I fear I will need your intervention. Regards.

Daly responded:

Many thanks for the telegram. Expect to resume career in heaven as leader of the house and, in political terms, expect to have the numbers to elevate you to archangel status without any left wing. Sorry for delay in replying but no staff means I have to think for myself for the first time. Cheerio, Fred.

Lawrie Daly, Fred’s son, recalled that in 1976, when Jim Killen became Minister for Defence, Daly applied for the position of press secretary, saying his pension was too low and he needed a new job. At the time, Daly had an old english sheepdog. As those people who lived in Canberra at the time might recall, he was named Sir John, after another person of national renown. The dog was quite well known around Canberra at the time and it was decided that the dog should also apply for the job of Jim Killen’s press secretary. Jim Killen agreed to interview both and both were allowed to enter parliament to apply. Killen said that he would be delighted to employ the dog but not Daly, as the dog had stronger literacy skills. A photo was duly taken of Killen, Daly and Sir John signing his employment papers. That photo took pride of place in Jim Killen’s office. Unfortunately, such friendships from both sides of the House are a little fewer and far further between these days and we are probably the worse for it.

In his first speech in this place, Jim Killen said that he would be guided by plain good intentions, and indeed he was, and that is how we on the Labor side experienced him. Jim Killen was a parliamentarian and a man of infectious good humour, but beneath all of that he was a man of deep humanity. I spoke last night to Lady Benise at her Brisbane home and talked with her about how we in the Labor Party best remember him.

Jim Killen was a person of great humanity and humility, a man who loved the company of all people, whatever their background and whatever their circumstances. It was not just your classic: ‘Hail fellow, well met.’ Jim was genuine in engaging people. I saw this in our local community in the southern suburbs of Brisbane. He engaged each person as an individual, and that is the core reason we in the Labor Party could never blast him out of office, because he was fair dinkum.

Jim Killen loved his family and his friends, and his friends and his family loved him. He reflected this in the poetry he loved to quote and the poetry he often read. In his own memoires, he quotes Hilaire Belloc:

From quiet homes and first beginning,

Out to the undiscovered ends

There’s nothing worth the wear of winning

But laughter and the love of friends.

Jim Killen was a great parliamentarian, a man of infectious good humour and above all a man of great humanity. We are all, in this place, the poorer for his passing. On behalf of the federal parliamentary Labor Party, my condolences are extended to Lady Benise and the members of Sir James’s family.

Mark Vaile (Lyne, National Party, Deputy Prime Minister) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

I would like to support the motion moved by the Prime Minister and seconded by the Leader of the Opposition recognising the great contribution of two great Australians to the Australian political scene and to the nation: firstly, Sir Robert Cotton and, secondly, Sir James Killen.

The well-known and legendary political journalist Alan Reid once described Sir Robert Cotton as a man ‘whose considerable subtlety of mind was masked by a direct, open manner’. Sir Robert Cotton was a great coalitionist. In the late 1950s, he was the president of the New South Wales branch of the Liberal Party. As a result of his efforts, the New South Wales Liberals and the then Country Party developed joint opposition policies for the first time. They also reached a historic agreement on three-cornered contests. The Liberal and Country parties lost the 1959 and 1962 state elections, but their close cooperation was vindicated in 1965 when they swept into government after 24 years in opposition. The cooperation between the two New South Wales parties has continued, including in the present state election campaign.

Bob Cotton’s good relationship with the Country Party proved to be essential in the confused days after Harold Holt disappeared off Portsea in 1967. Some people in the New South Wales branch of the Liberal Party argued that Sir John McEwen should stay on as the Prime Minister, even though he was the leader of the Country Party. They were looking for a trade-off. They were prepared to give up the leadership of the country as long as McEwen agreed to amalgamate the two parties. Cotton thought this was a ridiculous idea. He checked with his contacts in the Country Party and concluded that the Country Party would never agree to amalgamate and worked within the Liberals to kill off the deal. At the same time, he knew the federal coalition had to continue, had to survive. He knew the Country Party would possibly leave government if the Liberals elected Bill McMahon as Prime Minister, so he turned his attention to making sure that McMahon stayed out of the leadership contest. It was a masterly performance that helped keep the coalition government together and in office.

Seventeen years later, as Australia’s Ambassador to the United States—as has already been pointed out by the Prime Minister and the Leader of the Opposition—Bob Cotton had to use his coalition and diplomatic management skills again. This time it was to help manage the ANZUS alliance. In February 1985, the New Zealand government of the day had refused to allow the USS Buchanan to visit New Zealand ports. The decision ended New Zealand’s role in ANZUS, but there were many in Washington who wanted to go further and impose sanctions on New Zealand. Bob Cotton was a key part of Australia’s successful efforts in talking the Americans out of this course of action. Former Prime Minister Bob Hawke once recalled that Cotton told them:

You might think the New Zealanders are mistaken, but they’re good people, they’re worth having as friends, and if I were you, I’d treat this ships business as lightly as you can.

Bob Cotton served Australia, the Liberal Party, the coalition and his state with great distinction, and history will record the many contributions he made in terms of good government in Australia. I would like to join the Prime Minister in extending to his family our condolences.

On that lovable and wonderful Australian character Sir James Killen: he was always recognised as a great orator and debater. It is interesting to hear today how he honed those skills as a jackaroo, talking to sheep. I often reflect on how I honed my skills as an auctioneer, talking off a stump to nobody in particular, but it is interesting that some great Australians come from jackarooing backgrounds—often I speak at this stump to not too many either.

The leader of the Country Party at the time when Sir James Killen made his maiden speech in the parliament, Artie Fadden, took him into the cabinet anteroom for a drink afterwards, and Bob Menzies even dropped in to say hello. Fadden said:

By Jove, Bob, you’ve got some opposition here. That’s as good a speech as I have heard you make.

Menzies evidently was not impressed with the comparison and, I suspect, was even less impressed when Killen dreamt up the famous telegram that was referred to by the Prime Minister.

During the 1950s and 1960s, Killen spoke frequently in the House and at the same time studied for his law degree. He graduated in 1964 and immediately started building a criminal law practice during non-sitting periods. It was a very different time, and no-one seems to have criticised him for taking on the occasional murder case when parliament was not sitting. At one point, he was even swapping jovial notes across the chamber with Gough Whitlam about a young Labor official that he had represented in a minor case.

Killen was commissioned as the Minister for the Navy in 1969 and took a strong interest in conditions for ordinary sailors. The military was astonished. One retired air marshal told him:

Jim, you have an extraordinary reputation for visiting service establishments and talking naturally to people ... When I was chief of the air staff, my minister never came anywhere near us.

He was appointed shadow minister for defence in 1975 and promptly announced, in his usual manner, that ‘we would not be able to protect Botany Bay against the enemy on a hot Sunday afternoon’. Killen got the opportunity to do something about that when he was commissioned as Minister for Defence in the Fraser government. He prepared Australia’s first white paper on defence and bought the FA18 fleet. He was also responsible for setting up the Australian Defence Force Academy, after a long argument with the Public Works Committee. Those are all important achievements that Sir James Killen will be remembered for. But, above all, he will be remembered as a great parliamentarian and a great participant in this, the clearing house of ideas in Australian politics.

In his autobiography Sir James described how he felt as he left the old House of Representatives chamber down the hill for the last time:

Here had been hush and uproar. Here had been tears and laughter. Here had been drama and absurdity. Here had been the men and women of Australia. And here, indeed, had been the country, and I had seen it all. I walked through the door for the last time. I was glad I was given the honour of walking though it the first time.

Sir James Killen served his country, his state, the Liberal Party and all Australians with distinction. He will be remembered as a great Australian. I join with the Prime Minister and the Leader of the Opposition in offering my condolences to Lady Benise and his daughters, Diana and Heather.

Julia Gillard (Lalor, Australian Labor Party, Deputy Leader of the Opposition) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

I rise to offer my condolences and those of the Labor Party on the deaths of Sir Robert Cotton and Sir James Killen. We have heard in the House today about the lives of these two fine Australians. Both Sir Robert Cotton and Sir James Killen were contemporaries. Each fought for this nation in World War II. Each managed to forge friendships across the political divide. Each lived long and full lives with many accomplishments, and we have heard about those today.

In recent tributes to the life of Sir Robert Cotton we heard seen him described as a Renaissance man—and I think it is a great description of a man whose life started in a mining town, took him through the Depression, through World War II, into political and public service and into serving this nation overseas. But the Renaissance man’s life did not end there. As the Prime Minister has indicated, he had a life beyond his work in public life, as an artist. He was an accomplished photographer who exhibited his work in this country and overseas.

Robert Cotton was apparently inspired to take up photography by his second cousin, who was perhaps a more famous artist in her own right, Olive Cotton. It has been reported that Sir Robert’s interest in photography came after meeting Olive during a 1932 holiday at Avalon, during which she encouraged him to experiment with black and white photography as a hobby. At that time, Sir Robert was only 17 years old, and there started something that ran alongside his public life, increasingly became a passion and got him considerable public accolades in its own right.

In recent years Sir Robert admitted that he did not see much of his cousin after she spurred his original interest in photography, but he did visit her many exhibitions. At one of these Olive gave her cousin—by this time an accomplished ambassador, minister, senator, grazier and businessman—a copy of her famous image Teacup Ballet. In a recent article Sir Robert admitted to having lost the famous 1935 still life, and I trust it was of some comfort to Sir Robert and to members of his family to know that a copy of this very famous work rests in the Australian parliament’s distinguished collection of artworks.

The family’s artistic qualities did not end there. Sir Robert’s daughter Judy Cotton was also an accomplished painter and writer who exhibited works in the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York, the Getty Trust of Los Angeles, the New Orleans Museum of Art, the San Francisco museum of art, the Phillips Collection of Washington and, of course, our own National Gallery. The exhibition that Sir Robert participated in captured the scope of his work from his Broken Hill origins to his travels in North America. His photographs of the Australian landscape spanned six decades from 1939. He followed in the footsteps of explorers such as Burke and Wills and Charles Stuart and took images.

I am sure that Sir Robert’s sense of self-accomplishment and pride in his own achievements and his daughter’s achievements were at a peak when the two were brought together in a special exhibition at the Wagner Gallery in New South Wales, which is of course home to Australia’s masters: Boyd, Blackman and Nolan. That exhibition was open as recently as March 2005. Those are the hallmarks of a life well lived and a life of rich diversity.

My sincere sympathies go to Sir Robert Cotton’s wife, his three children, his stepchildren, his grandchildren and his great-grandchildren. Sir Robert Cotton passed away on Christmas Day after a lengthy illness. Even after a long life well lived, it is obviously a tragedy to lose a member of your family on Christmas Day itself, so my very sincere condolences go to all members of his family.

I also offer my condolences to the family of Sir James Killen on his death. I first learned of the death of Jim Killen when I was over in America. I was informed by the Minister for Families, Community Services and Indigenous Affairs that Sir James Killen had died. I think it is a mark of the man and of what a big and legendary figure he was in Australian politics that the two of us were immediately able to recall a number of the more famous parts of his life, some of the humorous moments from his life, and to share those reflections.

Sir James Killen was indeed truly a giant of the Australian political stage. His wit, his larrikinism, his sense of mateship and his command of the theatre of the parliament have all been referred to by speakers today. Of course, as has been noted, Jim Killen served in the intimacy of the old parliament, where contact with one’s colleagues was not really avoidable—even if one chose to do so. He was certainly a master of that old parliament and he is remembered for his wit and his warmth.

We know, of course, from the incidents that have been talked about today that Jim Killen was a political double act with Fred Daly, and their shared humour is going to be the stuff of legend for a long time to come. Can I briefly take the House to one incident which displays the bond between the two of them. On 19 March 1969, a former member for Hunter, behaving perhaps a little bit badly—something that, of course, would not happen in the modern age—decided that he would raise his concerns in the House; he had read that an article written by Liza Minnelli outlining her experiences with an Australian leading political figure was to be published in the Private Eye and that strenuous efforts were being made to prevent its publication. Of course, these references by Bert James were not really out of concern regarding the allegations being made, but a very thinly disguised way of making sure that the allegations could be raised in the federal parliament and, consequently, get more currency. He spoke to these matters and, of course, Jim Killen rose to accuse Mr James of attempting to smear another member of the House and criticised him for using a journalist who he said was notorious for scandal and had a widely-read newsletter which was heavily political and gratuitously offensive.

Jim Killen called on members of the Labor Party to distance themselves from the allegations that had been made. Fred Daly then sought leave to get the call to reply, having been challenged by James Killen, as a member of the Labor Party. The Speaker, in fact, said that Mr Daly did not need leave in order to get the call. Sometimes, Mr Speaker, members in the parliament can be right about these matters and very occasionally Speakers are wrong. Mr Daly pointed out that he did need leave because it was during the adjournment debate and he had already spoken. It was consequently necessary for a motion to be moved that so much of standing orders be suspended as would prevent the honourable member for Grayndler, Fred Daly, from making a second speech on the motion for the adjournment of the House.

Jim Killen voted in favour of that motion to give Fred Daly the right to speak. Indeed, so many government members crossed the floor to vote for that motion that it was only ruled lost because it was tied. It is not something that one would anticipate happening in the House today, but an indication, I think, of a gentler age in which members of the House forged bonds that went beyond the cut and thrust of daily politics. We will never know whether the speech to be given by Fred Daly would have been the speech of apology that Sir James Killen sought or a speech of witticisms. One suspects it would probably have been a bit of both.

Sir James Killen was, of course, well known for all of his wit and larrikinism, but that cannot overshadow a career that was full of accomplishments: his ministerial roles, his length of service and his achievement in 1955 of being one of the youngest people—at the age of 29—elected to this parliament. He was a knockabout Australian and, because of his character, he was able to forge connections and friendships which transcended political boundaries. He did the reputation of Australia’s parliament good. He will be missed. My sympathies and best wishes go to Lady Benise and his family.

David Hawker (Speaker) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

As a mark of respect, I invite honourable members to rise in their places.

Honourable members having stood in their places—

I thank the House.

Debate  (on motion by Mr Abbott) adjourned.