Condolence

CAMERON, HON. C.R.

The Hon. M.D. RANN (Ramsay—Premier, Minister for Economic Development, Minister for Social Inclusion, Minister for the Arts, Minister for Sustainability and Climate Change) (14:04): I move:

That the House of Assembly expresses its deep regret at the death of Hon. Clyde Cameron AO, former federal member for Hindmarsh and federal minister of the Crown, and places on record its appreciation of his long and meritorious service, and that as a mark of respect to his memory the sitting of the house be suspended until the ringing of the bells.

In the presence of Clyde Cameron's family, I commend this motion to the house.

Late last month, we were saddened to learn of the death of the Hon. Clyde Cameron. Clyde is a legend of the Labor movement, a man who made a lifelong commitment to Australian workers and to their welfare. He was a long-serving member of federal parliament who championed the cause of people in Adelaide's inner western suburbs, and a minister in the cabinet of former prime minister Gough Whitlam. But Clyde will be best remembered as one of South Australia's most influential political figures who made a significant impact on and contribution to our way of life in the 20^th century.

Together with his good friend Don Dunstan, Clyde Cameron also pioneered multiculturalism in Australia and gave great support to migrants and migrant workers.

Following his retirement from federal parliament in 1980, he remained a frequent contributor to public debate through his extensive political memoirs and his huge archive of oral history interviews which he conducted with some of the leading political figures of his era. He was appointed an Officer of the Order of Australia on Australia Day, 1982. After Kim Beazley Sr passed away last October, Clyde had become our oldest surviving member of the federal parliament and was the last surviving member of the 19^th Federal Parliament elected in 1949. Clyde Cameron died on 14 March at the age of 95.

Clyde Cameron was born in Murray Bridge on 11 February 1913. His father, Robert, was a shearer, but it was his mother, Adelaide, who held the pacifist beliefs of the Quaker faith, who was the most influential figure in Clyde's upbringing. She was an avid reader, and the Cameron house was well stocked with books that dealt with philosophy, economics and history. It was Adelaide Cameron who taught her son that any political philosophy must be backed by political action if it is to yield results. That lesson stayed with him throughout his substantial political career.

Clyde left school aged 18 and initially followed his father into the shearer's life. During the 1930s Clyde worked in every Australian state and crossed the Tasman Sea to ply his trade in New Zealand. It was there, when he was working in Wanganui in 1938, that Clyde received a telegram from his mother informing him that he had been elected as a union organiser within the Australian Workers Union (AWU).

It was the first of many election successes that Clyde was to achieve over the next 40 years. In 1941, at age 28, he became the youngest ever state secretary of the AWU, and he virtually taught himself industrial law. As former Prime Minister Bob Hawke once noted, 'If Clyde had been granted the educational opportunities afforded to subsequent generations, he could have been as brilliant a barrister as any in the land.'

In 1946, Clyde became state president of the Australian Labor Party, the first of three terms he served in that role. He made it his goal to eliminate the feuding within the party that had become deeply entrenched during its 14 years in opposition. He formed a crucial influential partnership with the late Jim Toohey, who also went on to play a significant role as a senator representing South Australia in the federal parliament.

The pair played a decisive part in mitigating the impact of the damaging split that tore the Labor Party apart in other states during the 1950s. Between them, Clyde and Jim Toohey helped forge a state branch of the ALP that was the envy of their counterparts interstate because of its unity and its stability. As another former prime minister, Paul Keating, observed at Clyde's funeral last month, 'This was a major achievement during a period when tempers were frayed and friendships destroyed.'

In 1949, Clyde Cameron was elected to the federal seat of Hindmarsh, a constituency that he represented with diligence and commitment until his retirement from parliament in 1980. During that period he won 13 consecutive election victories in his seat. John Bannon, who served as one of Clyde's advisers and, of course, later as premier of South Australia, noted in his tribute to Clyde published in the most recent edition of The Adelaide Review, that Clyde fought a 30-year battle with the AWU hierarchy over democratic control, winning court cases and developing high skills in legal and legislative analysis. By doing so, said John Bannon, he helped save Australia from the mobsters and unions of the USA Teamsters variety.

Another cause, John Bannon went on to say, was the integrity and effectiveness of the ALP. In South Australia, he was one of a very small group of power brokers who kept factional rivalries to a minimum by rejecting a winner-take-all policy and promoting talent over placemen. The South Australian national delegation always caucused and voted together, giving it and Clyde the ability to often act as an honest broker and to resolve factional differences.

As a Labor backbencher, Clyde was a fierce and uncompromising representative of workers and Australian battlers. In 1954 he was elevated to Doc Evatt's shadow cabinet and he quickly emerged as one of the leaders of the left wing in caucus with a fearless reputation for taking on his conservative opponents. He was also a pragmatic politician. When Clyde's younger brother, Leonard, once stood for preselection in the state seat of Gawler, Clyde threw his support behind one of his brother's rival ALP candidates who Clyde believed to be better credentialled for the job. That candidate, Jack Clark, went on to win the preselection in the seat.

Clyde summed up his own political philosophy during an address to the National Press Club in 1990. He said, 'The best line of defence in politics, as in war, is the frontal attack.' Even though he occupied the federal stage throughout his parliamentary career, Clyde Cameron's most profound influence in the Labor movement continued to be exerted at the state level here in South Australia. He used his clout within the South Australian party to ensure a young Don Dunstan won preselection for the seat of Norwood in 1953. Clyde then played a pivotal part in Don Dunstan's ascension to premier when he took over from Frank Walsh in 1967.

In his political memoirs Don described Clyde as 'a brilliant and effective union secretary' who was 'an eloquent and witty orator' and 'one of the most influential figures of the Labor movement'. His advice to the rising star of South Australia's Labor Party was not restricted to politics and policy. Clyde suggested that Don should alter his distinctive and rather posh accent in order to 'identify more with the average working man'. Don told him: 'I have spent years, and my parents quite some money, on voice training. I'm not going to waste it.'

Clyde also insisted that Don should be fitted out in better clothes. As a result, Don was provided with the details of Clyde's favoured Italian tailor in the city with the suggestion that Don needed to employ some extra padding around the shoulders to fill out his slight frame. This was another rare occasion on which Don politely declined Clyde's advice, although Don did go to the American Health Studios to engage in weightlifting to promote his physique rather than disguise it with padding.

I recall a number of occasions when Don spoke to me about the role that Clyde played in his political development and how Clyde oversaw his preselection for Norwood. Time and time again, Don Dunstan said to me and others that he would not have been the member for Norwood and he would not have been Premier of South Australia and leader of the Labor Party without the support of Clyde Cameron.

John Bannon described the extent of Clyde's influence in his recent tribute. He wrote:

His role in South Australia, where again there had been bleak years of almost permanent opposition, was crucial. Clyde and his fellow powerbroker Jim Toohey were a formidable combination and set the scene for a period of stability and rebuilding that gave opportunities to men such as Don Dunstan to gain preselection and a place in parliament. Whenever he had the chance, Clyde was a great promoter of talent as he saw it and untroubled by people's backgrounds.

John Bannon went on to say that as well as securing Don's preselection in 1953, Clyde was instrumental in giving Labor a chance of retaining office, having narrowly gained it in 1965 after the long decades of the Playford years. John Bannon continued:

The premier, Frank Walsh, part of the old guard of the Playford years and approaching 70, had been expected after Labor's victory to move on in time for a new leader to take up the reins. Although in many ways out of his depth, he was enjoying office and showing no signs of going. Clyde's impatience got the better of him. At a State Council meeting in 1967, he moved a motion of congratulations to the Premier. Frank, who was on the platform with the President, looked somewhat suspicious of this unexpected and unlikely tribute but relaxed as Clyde claimed to identify three outstanding achievements of the Premier.

Firstly, he had led Labor from the wilderness [like Moses] after 32 years and toppled the seemingly impregnable and unbeatable Tom Playford despite the gerrymander (here followed prolonged applause from the gathered ALP delegates). Secondly, he had acted vigorously and successfully to create a new prosperity for the state by bringing the gas pipeline from the Cooper Basin to industry in the metropolis (the applause was even more sustained and was now acknowledged by a beaming Frank [Walsh]). And finally, he had selflessly ensured his heritage would live on by stepping down as Premier in time for a leader of the next generation to establish himself. The delegates cheered and unanimously carried the motion. Frank now somewhat reluctantly acknowledged the applause then accosted Cameron asking, 'Where'd you get that bloody retirement bullshit from?' But the game was up and Walsh stepped down a few weeks later.

Of course, the Dunstan government went on to transform South Australia into the nation's social incubator in the 1970s, giving South Australia a national voice that far outweighed its size and lifted the state from rock bottom to national pre-eminence in so many areas of policy and reform.

That era is also renowned for the South Australian branch of the ALP, producing some of the most talented contributors to federal politics that the parliamentary Labor Party has seen. Clyde's value as a campaign and policy strategist was crucial in the election of the Whitlam government in the 1972 'It's Time' federal election. His contribution was recognised by Gough Whitlam, who installed Clyde in the important job of labour minister.

Clyde played a key role in the federal government's push to grant equal pay to women. In the process, he promoted the career of Mary Gaudron, who became the first woman appointed to the High Court of Australia. He also sponsored changes to the law covering the way that unions conducted their affairs, as part of his long-standing commitment to stamping out corruption. As a minister, he was the architect of trade union training colleges and a range of other schemes that reflected his strong belief in the importance of education, skills, and training. As early as 1973, Clyde was publicly warning that Australia faced a shortage of skilled workers needed to maintain industry demands and keep economic growth going.

In 1974 Clyde was also handed responsibility for immigration, and in 1975 he was shifted to the position of science and consumer affairs minister. During his tenure as a federal member of parliament, Clyde Cameron acted as mentor to a number of important South Australian political figures, not only Don Dunstan but also John Bannon and former senator and federal minister Nick Bolkus.

Following his retirement from federal politics in 1980, Clyde Cameron remained actively involved in public debate and political issues. As a prolific note taker and diary keeper, Clyde became renowned as a significant Labor historian through his memoirs and other written works. In typically Clyde fashion, he told the House of Representatives in his farewell parliamentary speech, 'I want it known that I am not available for ambassadorial appointment, so I have nothing to lose by telling the truth and nothing to gain now by telling lies'.

He was a strong supporter of the National Library of Australia's oral history collection, to which he contributed more than 15,000 pages of transcripts from about 600 hours of interviews. A number of the interviews that he conducted were with prominent figures from the other side of politics—and I think that it is terrific that he had friendships that spanned the political divide. I am talking about people such as former Liberal prime ministers Malcolm Fraser and Sir John Gorton. Indeed, the value of Clyde Cameron's contribution to Australian public life was recognised across the political spectrum.

Among the close friends who attended the 1999 launch of his biography A Life on the Left, were prominent Liberals, Sir James Killen and Lady Mary Downer. It was no doubt his ability to cultivate friends from across the political divide as well as his skills as a strategist, campaigner and orator that led Paul Keating to describe Clyde Cameron as 'in federal turns, South Australia's most remarkable Labor leader'.

On behalf of all members of this side of the house, I extend my sincere condolences to the family and friends of Clyde Cameron, especially to his wife, Doris; his sons, Warren and Noel, and daughter, Tania; and Clyde's nephew, the current member for Enfield, John Rau; and other members of his family who join us today for this condolence motion.

Mr HAMILTON-SMITH (Waite—Leader of the Opposition) (14:20): On behalf of the opposition and the state Liberal Party, I second the Premier's condolence motion and express our regret at the passing of the Hon. Clyde Cameron AO, former minister and federal member for Hindmarsh. I was pleased to attend his funeral with my deputy, Vickie Chapman, to pay our respects to him and his family.

I speak on behalf of the entire Liberal Party when I express today our sincere condolences to the family and friends of Clyde Cameron and put on the record our sincere appreciation for his distinguished service to his country and the state of South Australia.

As we have heard, Clyde Robert Cameron was born on 11 February 1913 at Murray Bridge. His father, a shearer and a founding member of the Australian Shearers Union, instilled a passion for politics that would dominate his life. The Great Depression was also a strong influence on his formative years and an experience he never forgot. It left an indelible mark on him and no doubt strongly shaped his politics. In his retirement speech to the House of Representatives on 18 September 1980, he recalled speaking from the single tax stump at Adelaide's Botanic Park during the Depression years.

Clyde left school at 14 to work as a shearer, like his father, and later gravitated towards the Australian Labor Party, becoming an officer at the AWU (his father's union) and later becoming the youngest South Australian president of the Labor Party. Elected in 1949 as the member for Hindmarsh, Clyde was a leading figure in the Australian Labor movement for 40 years and, as we have heard, was the last surviving member of that federal parliament that was elected in 1949. His death represents the passing of a political generation and, indeed, the severing of a connection with a past political era.

Known as the conscience of the ALP, Clyde was a true believer. He was principled and uncompromising, and he did not tolerate those who betrayed his cause. Our side of politics respects such Labor men and women—the true believers. We may not agree with them on a range of issues, but we know where they stand. He always stood by his principles. Political expediency was not in his nature, and it no doubt prevented him from achieving higher office. There is no doubt that it got him into strife on more than one occasion.

For instance, I note that in 1958 he exposed what he saw as corrupt practices within the AWU and, of course, the kingmaker (as he was also known) was famously dethroned when Whitlam sacked him from his post as minister for labour because of a refusal to bow to bureaucratic pressure and, indeed, pressure from the PM. He was truly a strong man. His contribution as he member for Hindmarsh for 31 years and as a cabinet minister in the Whitlam government was always dictated by an unwavering commitment to the Labor movement and to Labor values.

Survived by his wife, Doris, sons, Warren and Noel, and daughter, Tania, Clyde was much loved and respected by all who knew him. The many people at his state funeral were evidence of this fact. His family and friends have much to remember and much to reflect on through the clear memories that I am sure Clyde had of the development of the Labor movement in South Australia.

His story is very much a story of Labor's struggles with socialism and how Australian politics arrived at the place where it is today. His contribution to the ALP, the state and the country is enormous. He reminds us that, although we may all come to this place from different political parties and with different political views, we are all here trying to do our best for the people we represent. I am sure all members present join me in paying respect to the late Clyde Cameron in acknowledging the significant contribution that he made to our state and our country.

The Hon. K.O. FOLEY (Port Adelaide—Deputy Premier, Treasurer, Minister for Industry and Trade, Minister for Federal/State Relations) (14:25): I had the honour and privilege to be asked to be both a pallbearer and a speaker at the late Clyde Cameron's funeral only a short time ago. Clyde Cameron was never one to shy away from employing his talent for character assessment on himself. Clyde Cameron acknowledged that his life was filled with contradictions. His childhood home was austere in terms of comforts but was rich in books, principles and ideas.

He abandoned his formal education at age 15, yet (as the Premier has already said) he virtually taught himself industrial law—well beyond just industrial law—and in public life became one of Australia's foremost orators, thinkers and political strategists. He was portrayed as uncompromising and ruthless, but those who knew Clyde recall him as a softy spoken person, even soft-hearted and readily moved to tears. While his political opponents regarded him as a shrewd and sometimes dangerous foe, he is also remembered by many as a staunch and loyal friend.

Whilst I was always a Labor supporter, it was the excitement and vision created by the election of the Hawke-Keating government in 1983 that lured me to greater involvement in the Labor Party and, indeed, to join the Labor Party. At the age of 23 I was immediately mentored by the former member for Port Adelaide, the late Mick Young—as, also, were my colleagues and friends, the members for Lee and Enfield. I also received great support and encouragement from some of the state ALP's most revered figures, including Clyde Cameron. Clyde was a regular attendee at Port Adelaide ALP branch meetings and fundraising events, and he would always take the time to chat with the party's younger members in order to seek out their views; and every now and then he would phone me at home to offer me his opinion and advice. Those views were never forced on me—nearly never—but were always, of course, very welcomed.

In retrospect the impact of people such as Clyde Cameron, Mick Young, Jack Wright and Jim Toohey on my career is far more significant than I appreciated at the time. By sharing their wisdom and advice they showed me that they were concerned about not only the Labor Party's immediate wellbeing but also its long-term health and ongoing influence in public life. Many people whose careers have been similarly advanced by that generosity of spirit attended Clyde's funeral on 20 March.

As we have heard, Clyde Cameron's political career was played out largely in Canberra, but his most profound and enduring effect and influence remained here in South Australia. His early days as a union organiser awakened him to the possibility of change through politics. As he rose through the ranks, Clyde not only saw clearly the shortcomings holding back the Labor movement but also formulated plans to redress them.

When Clyde boldly nominated for the ALP state presidency in 1946, the South Australian ALP had been languishing in opposition for 14 years and had disintegrated into three distinct groups—the official Trades Hall labor party, the parliamentary party and the Lang labor party. Clyde was determined to change that. He wanted to streamline the ALP's organisation and galvanise it by eliminating the factional feuding of those days. In partnership with Jim Toohey—a loyal friend who shared Clyde's vision but was a contrasting personality—they redefined the modern state branch of the Labor Party. They moved decisively to have the state convention disband the industrial groups in order to reduce the impact of the split that was tearing apart the party in the eastern states of Australia.

Clyde and Jim helped forge a state branch that became the envy of their counterparts interstate in the 1950s because of its unity and stability. Their next challenge was to restore the ALP to government in South Australia for the first time since 1933. The state parliamentary party had struggled to make any impact on the Playford government and at times Clyde (by then the federal member for Hindmarsh) effectively played the role of South Australia's Labor opposition, albeit from Canberra. He and senator Toohey never missed an opportunity to have a crack at Playford, either in the house or through the press.

As the Premier adequately outlined, Clyde then used his influence and numbers to win Don Dunstan's preselection for the seat of Norwood in 1953. One of the most humorous occasions (certainly it would not have been at the time) as the Premier outlined was Clyde's announcement of the premature retirement of Frank Walsh, which will be cemented in political folklore for decades to come. During the period from the late 1940s to the late 1970s, when Clyde was at the height of his influence, the South Australian branch stood out like a beacon to the Labor Party in other states.

Not only was it a model of stability and unity but also the Dunstan government went on to become the most progressive and talked about state government in the nation. Clyde Cameron remained a formidable presence long after his farewell speech to the House of Representatives in 1980. One of my fondest memories and recollections of Clyde stems from my time as secretary of the Port Adelaide federal electorate committee. It has been and still is the committee's quirk to hold its regular meetings at 10 on a Sunday morning. Personally, I have never quite understood the branch's affection for that hour of the day, particularly on a Sunday.

The Hon. P.F. Conlon: It's been going on forever.

The Hon. K.O. FOLEY: Yes, forever.

An honourable member interjecting:

The Hon. K.O. FOLEY: It does; exactly. In the late 1980s, Mick Young's good mate was Peter Walsh, the finance minister in the Hawke Labor government. Peter would often fly from Perth and stay at Mick's place in Adelaide before moving onto Canberra. If you reckon I hated 10 o'clock on a Sunday morning, I can tell members that those who knew him were aware that former senator Peter Walsh hated it even more. He would always enjoy a red or two with Mick and others at Mick's house.

At that stage, the federal Labor government had outlined its plans to privatise the Commonwealth Bank, and, as the finance minister, Peter Walsh was the driving force behind that. Mick thought that it would be a good idea for Peter to come along one Sunday morning and explain to the Port Adelaide branch the merits of the privatisation. I reckon you could have privatised the wharfs and you would have got a less hostile crowd! I escorted Peter into the council hall at Port Adelaide and, as we took our seats in front of the packed audience, I noticed Clyde and Doris (who is with us today) seated in the centre of the front row. Mick Young leaned towards me and whispered, 'This is going to be a very interesting meeting, comrade.' Clyde, of course, was well dressed—three piece suit; he looked the part. Peter Walsh went on to deliver a spirited presentation on the pressures that governments face and the case for privatising the Commonwealth Bank.

No sooner had Peter finished his contribution and before the chair could even call for questions, Clyde had sprung to his feet. From under his jacket he pulled out a copy of the 1959 Commonwealth Bank Act, and for more than half an hour he went through the act clause by clause with Peter Walsh as to what was wrong—in Clyde's eyes—with privatising the Commonwealth Bank. It absolutely floored Peter; and, without having any advice with him and probably being a little tired that morning, he struggled his way through it.

As the debate intensified, Peter Walsh became increasingly agitated (that is a polite word) and (and this is even more polite) slumped back into his chair, muttering, 'Thank God that bloke's no longer in caucus. At bloody 75 he is smarter and sharper than most of my colleagues in Canberra.' True to Clyde's style, when the meeting broke up he came across and spoke with Peter. He made no mention of their prolonged, very heated and at times personal exchange, and he showed not a trace of acrimony. I am pleased to say that Peter Walsh returned to our branch meetings, as did Clyde.

I was also honoured to be at the launch of Clyde's biography A Life on the Left in 1999—a terrific read on both sides of politics. My enduring memory of that event was the eclectic range of guests who were in attendance, from Lady Mary Downer to Sir Jim Killen who, as John would remember, gave a tremendous speech that morning. It was very humorous. We had waterside workers and union officials. It was an incredible array of people. I can remember at that time thinking how such a hard man of the left of Labor politics could cultivate such a diverse range of friends from right across the political spectrum. It was yet another example of why Don Dunstan said of Clyde, 'He is so uniquely himself. There has never been his like before, nor is there likely to be so in the future.'

I extend my sincere sympathies to Clyde's family. With us today is, of course, Clyde's widow, Doris; Doris's sister and mother of John Rau, Nan; his son from his first marriage, Warren, and his wife Toni; Natasha and Justin, Warren's children; and, of course, John Rau, my good friend and the member for Enfield.

The Hon. S.W. KEY (Ashford) (14:35): It is a great privilege to have the opportunity to speak about Clyde Cameron. I first met him when he was the member for Hindmarsh. I attended my first Labor Party meeting in that area, the Hindmarsh FEC. I was welcomed by this immaculately dressed man with a rose in his lapel and, as the Deputy Premier said, this was also a 10 o'clock meeting on a Sunday morning. I was a little intimidated to begin with, but he knew that I was a new member to that FEC and wanted to know all about me and, after the meeting, invited me to have a cup of tea with him so that he could find out all my details. This proved to be very useful to me because, at the time, I was also the president of the Flinders University Labor Club and I decided that Clyde would be an excellent speaker.

Usually when we had guest speakers, our meetings very rarely attracted more than half a dozen other people in addition to some of the members but, because Clyde was held in such high esteem, I had to organise to have the Matthew Flinders Theatre available so that some 300 people could attend the Flinders University Labor Club meeting and also hear what Clyde had to say. On that basis and the popularity of Clyde as a speaker, I then invited him to speak at the council of ALP students' conference. It was a bit of a coup in that not only was I the first woman national president but I was from Adelaide, which was even more unusual in national Labor Party terms because the eastern states always dominated the positions.

Clyde was very pleased about this and very willing to speak at our conference. From memory, it was held at a motel on Glen Osmond Road. I think it was called the Sunny South Motel. It was such a little known motel that it took a while for Clyde to find the motel so that he could address us. He certainly impressed the assembled group from all over Australia when talking about the principles of Labor and why it was important that the young people of the party made sure that they had their say. The thing that I really remember from knowing Clyde all those years was that he really did encourage young people, both men and women.

As we know, certainly in the past, the Labor Party has been very much a patriarchal, male-dominated party. Things are changing, of course. Not only did Clyde champion equal pay but he was a great supporter of the Working Women's Centre and a great supporter of the antidiscrimination legislation for which the Working Women's Centre was advocating. One of the reasons why I am really grateful to Clyde is for the establishment of the Trade Union Training Authority. Certainly as someone who attended university as an adult student and having been a shop steward from a very early age, trade union training not only allowed you to find out what you were supposed do as a shop steward or a job rep but also helped you to try to understand what industrial relations and industrial politics were about.

The Trade Union Training Authority provided an opportunity for many of us to gain that experience. The Trade Union Training Authority in Albury-Wodonga was opened in February 1976 and, quite rightly, was called the Clyde Cameron College. I notice a section in the book A Life on the Left by Bill Guy talks about the opening of the Trade Union Training Centre. Amongst the speakers was Bob Hawke who said:

By any standards Clyde Cameron has become a legend in his own lifetime and that legend is being memorialised in this magnificent institution.

John Bannon is also quoted in A Life on the Left. He said that—and this is something that he said at Clyde's funeral—he believed that the setting up of the Trade Union Training Authority was amongst Cameron's finest achievements as a minister. It is certainly something which, amongst his many achievements, I will always cherish, having benefited from it, as I know a number of my colleagues did.

It has been mentioned that not only was Clyde a formidable figure in a political sense but that he was also a great writer. His 1982 publication Unions in Crisis is still something I think is worth referring to. I have not read all the Cameron diaries, although I did ask Clyde whether I could perhaps appear in the fourth volume, to which he said no. The 1990 Cameron diaries are also extremely instructive, and they did make me feel very tempted to keep a diary myself, but I am afraid I do not have the discipline Clyde obviously had in keeping those details.

There are many things Clyde spoke about. I should follow on by saying that, knowing that he was a great drawcard, in my second attempt to become a member of parliament, I asked Clyde whether he would speak at a fundraiser, and I asked him whether he would talk about ASIO, which is one of his favourite topics. I am sure John Rau would be well up to date with the views Clyde had about ASIO. I understand that he was also subject to ASIO tapping his phone, and there is a story about him being called 'Click' Cameron, I think it was, and one of his colleagues was called 'Clack' Cameron because they were continually being listened to, they thought.

One of the things I did for this fundraiser was ask Clyde whether he would come to a lunchtime meeting at what we used to call the 'workers' Hilton (it is very glamorous now, so that title really does not apply) and, again, I had to have the largest room in the worker's Hilton because there was such a turn-up.

What was really interesting about that meeting was that a number of people in the audience were Clyde's age, or perhaps a bit younger; so I would say that the average age of the people who came to my fundraiser would have been 70. A lot of people here would know Jimmy Doyle, and, throughout Clyde's speech, Jimmy Doyle would correct the dates Clyde was putting forward for particular things. There was quite a bit of interchange, which reminds me of some of the interchange that happens in this place across the benches. Afterward, I was very worried about the fact that people wanted to ask questions.

This was not only one of the more successful fundraisers I have had, with the number of people who came along and had fish and chips at the Hilton, but also it was the longest fundraiser I have ever had because people refused to go home. The Hilton was subsequently very happy with me because the hotel had quite a few hours of business from what was supposed to be a two-hour fundraising lunch.

The other thing I do remember Clyde for is his ongoing letters. I am proud to say that over the years I received a number of letters from Clyde and also the occasional phone call talking about issues of the day, which I found very, very helpful.

Some of Clyde's sayings were particularly instructive. I remember that in Unions in Crisis he talked aboutthe right to strike, which is something I have always been very concerned about and which I feel is a right that needs to be protected. He used to say that unions won the eight-hour day, the 48-hour week, then the 44-hour and, finally, the 40-hour week, that strikes gave us paid annual leave and that the strike weapon was established as the principle for paid sick leave. He said, 'Taking away the right to strike would reduce the worker to the status of a slave.' They are very strong words, but he felt very passionate about the rights of people and the rights of workers.

One of what I think is the more humorous things he talked about is productivity. As people in this chamber would know, Clyde had responsibility not only for the whole portfolio of labour but also employment. One of his other areas of interest and expertise was employment, and he was quoted as saying:

Productivity gains wrought by the computer should not be used to reduce the workforce but to reduce the working year and so spread the available work around.

The point he made that I particularly like is that, instead of a 48-hour week with four weeks' annual holiday, why not have people work for 40 weeks and take 12 weeks' holiday.

He certainly had an interesting way of campaigning. As the member for Hartley said, he had the work/life balance worked out a long time before that terminology was coined for us now. Clyde was always a great support to those of us who were candidates and members in the western suburbs, and I was very honoured that the Premier, then the leader of the Labor Party, was available to come and open the new Ashford electorate office in August 2001.

I was very honoured because Clyde and Doris Cameron were there, as well as the late Ralph Jacobi, Molly Byrne, Anne Levy, Carolyn Pickles, Senator Nick Bolkus, Penny Wong and Patrick Conlon. All of these people came to the opening, and it would be fair to say that, despite the fact that Mike Rann was to open my office, Clyde Cameron probably gave a significant speech about the importance of the Labor Movement. It ended up being a very great time and very memorable as far as the Ashford sub-branch members and I were concerned. I really appreciated that he did that.

As I said, he was a great supporter of all of us in the western suburbs, and my condolences really do go to his family and my colleague, John Rau. He is someone who will be greatly missed, but I think that he has left us with an inheritance and also a view that we need to hold dear those Labor principles that he supported.

Honourable members: Hear, hear!

The Hon. M.J. ATKINSON (Croydon—Attorney-General, Minister for Justice, Minister for Multicultural Affairs) (14:47): Clyde Cameron was very good to me in 1979 when I was researching my honours thesis on ALP industrial groups, and I spent two days at his home at Sunlake Place, Tennyson. Clyde Cameron had a passion for history. At a very young age he had become secretary of the Australian Workers Union, which was the most important union in the South Australian branch of the Australian Labor Party.

He consolidated the AWU's dominance over the Labor Party by introducing the card vote whereby unions were able to have votes in proportion to the membership for which they were affiliated to the party. So, let us say that there were 2,000 ALP party members in South Australia, they were completely overwhelmed by the card vote of the trade unions, which was one entire vote for every member for which the union was affiliated to the party.

The Hon. J.D. Hill: Ninety-five per cent of the total.

The Hon. M.J. ATKINSON: I must correct the member for Kaurna: it was more than 95 per cent of the total. Of course, these votes were not cast by the union members: they were cast by the union officials on the members' behalf.

Ms Chapman: Hairdressers and wigmakers?

The Hon. M.J. ATKINSON: Yes, Hairdressers and Wigmakers Federation; I was the secretary, that is true. By the device of the card vote, Clyde Robert Cameron was able to dominate in partnership with Jim Toohey of the Vehicle Builders Union (later the state secretary of the South Australian branch of the Labor Party), and by such dominance brought about tranquillity in the South Australian branch.

Clyde Cameron did not get it all his way. The South Australian branch of the Australian Workers' Union fell out, one might say, with the other branches of the Australian Workers' Union, namely, the New South Wales branch led by Tommy Dougherty. Between them, the two of them made a great deal of industrial law in Australia by taking the cases as high as they could possibly go. At one stage, Eric O'Connor, the South Australian branch secretary after Clyde went into federal parliament, found himself siding with the interstate branches of the AWU, and I am pleased to say that the difference of opinion between Clyde and Eric O'Connor was resolved on Eric's deathbed.

I was friendly with Fred Prato, who was a member of my Labor Party branch, and who had been a faithful lieutenant of Clyde Cameron at the Adelaide City Council. In the early 1960s, Clyde Cameron decided it was time for Norman Makin to retire but Norman Makin had no intention of retiring, so Clyde got Fred to move a motion from the Adelaide City Council depot to the Australian Workers Union which was then forwarded to the Australian Labor Party to change the Labor Party's rules to say that, if a candidate for Labor preselection was to turn 65 in the next term of parliament, that person could not be preselected. Under that rule, Norman Makin was required to retire.

Alas, with the effluxion of time, Clyde Cameron himself came up against this rule and he was not in a position to get rid of it, so I gather he did what car salesmen do, that is, he wound back his age a bit. It got to the point where in the Parliamentary Diary (the parliamentary publication containing the biographies of all members of the House of Representatives and the Senate) Clyde Cameron's birthday appeared to be about four months after that of his brother Don. Someone drawing this to Gough Whitlam's attention obtained the response: 'I always knew one of the Camerons was a bastard.'

The Hon. K.O. Foley: And it wasn't the senator.

The Hon. M.J. ATKINSON: And it wasn't the senator. I am told by the Deputy Premier that the prime minister remarked that it was not Senator Don Cameron. Clyde Cameron had very strong, radical views. He was a sympathiser with the theories of Henry George whereby the principal tax should be a tax on land. As I said, he ruled the South Australian branch in partnership with Jim Toohey and, broadly, they supported the left of the Labor Party but eventually, with the trouble with the socialist left in Victoria, it became clear by 1970 that, if the Victorian branch was allowed to continue in its state in 1970, Clyde Cameron (already almost 21 years in opposition) would never be a member of the government, so he decided to authorise federal intervention in the Victorian branch and also a token intervention in the New South Wales branch to give the appearance of balance—

Ms Chapman interjecting:

The Hon. M.J. ATKINSON: Yes, the member for Bragg gets the idea—whereupon his left-wing colleagues from Victoria turned on him and Mick Young told them: 'Go on. Take him on. You'll need a Trent memory training course, a wheelbarrow full of bayonets and a lot more brains than any of you have got.' So, Clyde Cameron obtained the intervention in Victoria and, indeed, Labor went on to do very well in Victoria in the federal election campaign of 1972 and Labor formed government.

At the end of the two days which Clyde Cameron kindly spent instructing me on the history of the Australian Labor Party, he said, 'Young man, I'll give you a lift to the bus. What bus are you catching?' He gave me a lift and on the way he said, 'Who would you be interviewing next for your thesis?' I said, 'That would be Mr Jim Toohey, Mr Cameron. I would be interviewing Mr Toohey.' He was taken aback and he said, 'I think Jim Toohey is very poorly at the moment. He is not in any condition to be interviewed. His memory is not what it was once.' So, I accepted that advice and I completed my thesis without consulting Mr Toohey. Some years later I met Jim Toohey when I was a member of parliament, and he was hale and hearty; he was in very good form.

Clyde Cameron continued to work faithfully for the party even after his retirement. In the 2002 state election, when we were facing the mirror image of Peter Lewis in Enfield, he came out and campaigned, and we were successful in that campaign. I think that, when I had lunch with him at the federal Parliament House in 1980, he was disappointed to be retiring; I think he was disappointed by his replacement. One thing in which Clyde Cameron was outstanding, even if you did not agree with his politics—I know that my mother was a passionate admirer of his and my aunty Kath loathed him owing to things that had occurred in the 1940s and 1950s—he was always an outstanding local member of parliament.

Just in the last month I have had constituents from ethnic groups talk to me about Clyde Cameron. In fact, they could not remember his name, and we had to sit down for a while and work out who it was, but he was a man who looked after these people so well that they remembered him fondly 28 years after his retirement.

After Clyde retired, the seat of Hindmarsh became marginal and, indeed, we did struggle to win it. Coming into the four final booths in Hindmarsh—Renown Park, Brompton, Croydon and Bowden—the Liberal Party and the Labor Party would be neck and neck until those for booths tipped it Labor's way in the 1980s, but it was never like that when Clyde Cameron held it; it was a very solid, safe seat.

Despite the tremendous conflict between Clyde Cameron and the Catholic Social Studies Movement, and B.A. Santamaria in particular, nevertheless, late in life Clyde Cameron had a lovely correspondence with B.A. Santamaria and they became firm pen pals and they agreed about so many things. If only it could have occurred from 1946!

The Hon. J.D. HILL (Kaurna—Minister for Health, Minister for the Southern Suburbs, Minister Assisting the Premier in the Arts) (14:58): Clyde Cameron was a genuine Labor hero and a genuine South Australian hero. It was a great privilege for me to have known him reasonably well. I got to know him particularly well when I was party official and state secretary in South Australia. Like other members, I have voluminous correspondence at home from Clyde in his own hand, and it is a great memory to me.

On one occasion, my wife, who was doing some research into a figure from the 1940s, thought Clyde would be a helpful person to talk to, and, sure enough, he knew the person she was researching. As it happens, his name was Alfred Conlon. We went to Clyde's house and he provided some information. We had a very pleasant meal with Clyde and Doris and his family; so, I was very privileged to have that invitation into the Cameron family home. He was a charming host and a very gracious one at that. He was an outstanding South Australian, and he achieved very much in a relatively short time in government.

I refer to an opinion piece by Matt Abraham (a very young looking Matt Abraham) dated 23 September 1980 in which he summarises Clyde's achievements thus:

Under Clyde Cameron Australia saw equal pay, the extension of male minimum wage to females, a 36¾ hour week for postmen, four weeks' annual leave, wage indexation, paid maternity and paternity leave, the RED scheme and the NEAT scheme. [Clyde says,] 'all these things I achieved, and my recent achievement as a minister was higher than any of them'.

Clyde goes on to say in this article, which I find somewhat poignant:

'The thing that I find in retrospect really sad is that in the years of my life when I was physically best able to work day and night I was in Opposition. I sat in Opposition for 31 years. It left its mark. I aged a lot in those 2½ years as minister for labour and immigration. I grew very tired and kept fighting on, kept forcing myself to cope with the physical side of it.

I think that it is one of the great tragedies of Australian politics that a man of his capacity was forced into opposition for such an extraordinarily long time.

To me, Clyde's greatest achievements were within the Labor Party, and other speakers have referred to those. I refer briefly to his role in the South Australian branch—keeping it united and working from a broad base and keeping solidarity, which was something we lost in this state in the late 1970s and did not regain until about 10 years ago. I hope that we have learnt from that lesson of not having the ability to talk with one another and to develop solidarity across the party. I hope we never lose that. Clyde Cameron, Jim Toohey and others taught us a very valuable lesson, and it is one that all political parties need to learn before they can be successful.

Another thing Clyde did that was so important was to clean up the very mad Victorian branch in the 1970s. The job he did with Gough Whitlam was truly outstanding. He rid the party of a party machine that was incredibly out of touch with the broad rank and file of not only the Victorian public and the Australian public but also of the Labor Party in that state.

Much has been said about a whole range of things in relation to Clyde, but I want to finish on this point. Clyde had a truly great sense of humour, and I quote once again from a retirement piece written in September 1980 after an interview with Brett Bayly, when Clyde said:

As I told the Prime Minister—

and he is referring to Prime Minister Fraser—

a couple of days ago, I would not mind being Governor-General. I said that if I am appointed Governor-General, and he should be lucky enough to win the next election, I would do the same for him as he persuaded Kerr to do to us. He did not seem to see the joke. Perhaps he was tired or something.

I pass on my condolences to Doris, in particular, and to the rest of Clyde's family on their loss.

Ms THOMPSON (Reynell) (15:02): I would also like to pay tribute to the work and wisdom of Clyde Robert Cameron. My time with him relates to the 1970s, during his period as minister. Just after he was sworn in, in my role as organiser with the then administrative and clerical officers association, I received a phone call (I am pretty sure it was from John Bannon who was then on his staff) asking me whether I could pack and get ready to go to Canberra in just a couple of days to enable me to attend the trade union training school, which was held in Canberra and known as the trade union summer school.

On obtaining his ministry, Clyde immediately secured funds to make additional provision for women and Aboriginal people to attend this trade union training school, as both groups were very notable for their absence. His contacts enabled him to select about 20 women and persons of Aboriginal background to attend this conference at short notice. It set the stage for the change, and it showed his contact, his foresight and his commitment to enabling people to gain the experience to bring about change in the workplace and in the union movement. It was certainly a very interesting experience.

In his role as minister for labour, Clyde introduced important provisions to the Public Service and thought to use the conditions for the Public Service as an example to the rest of the community. Not only was equal pay one of his first areas of action but also, as has been noted, the introduction of paid maternity leave and, indeed, paid paternity leave were way in advance of some of the conditions we deal with today. When we consider that in 2008 Australia still does not have a national system of paid maternity leave, all I can say is that Clyde Cameron is clearly not the minister for labour.

Unfortunately, the rise of the Fraser government saw many of those conditions wound back. One of the first to go was paid paternity leave. I remember Ian McPhee invited me to attend a meeting with his colleagues in the National Party to explain the importance of fathers' bonding with their children. I declined that invitation; I thought it was probably futile. Clyde Cameron had clearly understood the importance of fathers, as well as mothers, being involved in those critical early days of a child's life; and it is important that we learn from his wisdom.

As the Public Service struggled against a number of changes made by the Fraser government, it achieved a level of militancy that had never been seen before in the white collar Public Service unions. As secretary of the ACOA, I was involved in a number of rallies and meetings, particularly at the town hall, as well as on the back of a truck in Victoria Square. Again and again, Clyde Cameron would be in the front row, usually in a three-piece suit, showing support for the struggle of people who not much earlier he had been criticising as 'fat cats'. The christening of public servants as fat cats by Clyde entered the lexicon—and it has stayed there. I was not able to convince him that all my members were working very hard to serve the public that he also sought to serve. On that matter we agreed to disagree. Nevertheless, as we struggled he was there to show his support. It demonstrates his generosity of spirit, which endured throughout his life.

In looking through the index of the papers that he has left to the nation for the benefit of us all through the National Library, I thought it was interesting to note his early wisdom and acknowledgment of important national issues that still have not been resolved. There are pamphlets relating to publications on women and Aborigines from the 1970s. Again, we have not dealt with those issues in the way in which Clyde thought we needed to deal with them.

That is all I need to say to add my small experience and perspective on the work Clyde did. Many of us have been the beneficiaries of his correspondence and wisdom over the years. He tried to encourage me many times to leave the ACOA to work for the AWU—I do not know whether the AWU was ready for me at that time—but Clyde continued his encouragement and support. He was politely critical if one failed to act on the benefit of his wisdom. I extend my condolences to Doris and his family.

The Hon. G.M. GUNN (Stuart) (15:08): I extend my condolences to Clyde's family. I would like to relate a story about him that I observed. Some years ago there was going to be an official opening at Alice Springs of the first passenger train going from Adelaide to Alice Springs.

The Hon. K.O. Foley interjecting:

The Hon. G.M. GUNN: No, I was excluded from that one—but we will go into that on another occasion. On this occasion a number of notable South Australians were on the train. Clyde Cameron was in a carriage holding court. When we got to Port Augusta he looked out the window and said, 'I knew that Wallace fellow never knew much about campaigning. He has Gough Whitlam with him.' Gough stepped into the carriage, saw Clyde, walked up to him and gave him a kiss on the forehead. At that stage everyone burst into laughter except Clyde, who sat stony-faced and could not see the funny side of it. The rest of us could; and for the whole trip with Gough in the carriage Clyde's whole demeanour changed.

The Hon. M.J. WRIGHT (Lee—Minister for Industrial Relations, Minister for Finance, Minister for Government Enterprises, Minister for Recreation, Sport and Racing) (15:10): We have really lost a great Australian. Could I also say a few words about Clyde Cameron and endorse the comments that have been made on both sides of the house. I first met Clyde when I was 10. I remember it very well because it was when we came down from Port Augusta and first started to live in Adelaide. Mum and dad took me to Clyde's unit on Henley Beach Road. I remember it very vividly. When you went into that unit, Clyde always made you extremely welcome. Even though I was only 10, Clyde went to a lot of trouble to make sure that I was included and that I was a part of what was happening.

He was a man of great warmth. He had an enormous intellect, as people well know. That is something that no-one questions, and he was also a man of great humour. The year 1965 was something of a watershed for the Australian Workers Union's South Australian branch, because all the officials were dismissed. I remember this even though I was a very tender age. I remember it very well. We lived in Port Augusta at the time. We came down to Adelaide and Clyde said to all the officials, 'I've got the person to represent you. I know who can ensure that we'll win this case,' and he recommended Roma Mitchell. Well, their jaws dropped because, back in those days, 1965, sadly we were a little behind the times. But, of course, as history proves, Roma Mitchell not only represented the sacked officials of the South Australian branch of the AWU but she did so successfully. They were all reinstated.

The Attorney-General has already talked about Eric O'Connor and Tom Dougherty. These people were on the other side. Eric O'Connor was the state secretary for many years.

The Hon. M.J. Atkinson interjecting:

The Hon. M.J. WRIGHT: Indeed. Tom Dougherty, I think, was the national secretary. It was a time when Clyde provided great insight to those people who had been dismissed, and they were all successful in getting back their jobs. Others have spoken about his role with the Australian Workers Union. He was state secretary at 28 years of age. He was a mentor of so many people for so many years through the trade union movement. Dad was an official with the Australian Workers Union in Port Augusta. I remember when we first came down from Port Augusta (and for the next decade, or thereabouts) dad became an official in Adelaide; and, during that next eight or 10 years, we saw quite a bit of Clyde, along with people such as Don Cameron, Jim Dunford, Mick Young and Reg Groth. Many of these names members on both sides of the house know because they have been in either this parliament or the federal parliament.

An honourable member interjecting:

The Hon. M.J. WRIGHT: Dave McKee is another one. The people who went through the AWU at that time and who went on to become either ministers of the Crown or members of parliament really owe so much to Clyde's wonderful friendship and tutelage. Also, of course, we know of his role within the ALP. Others have already spoken about it. He was a king maker. He was a giant in the ALP, not just in South Australia but right throughout Australia in the role that he played as a king maker. I remember that, when I came back from my teaching stint in Kadina, I had a job with Mick Young, and Mick said, 'Go around and see Clyde. Go around and have a chat with Clyde. He'll know what you should be doing,' and I did. At this stage, of course, Clyde and Doris lived at West Lakes, and they were both very generous with their time.

Clyde would take me out into the shed, the carport, where he had all his memoirs and writings, and we would go through them. For a young person up and coming in the movement it was just a wonderful experience. I could hear it from Mick Young and I could hear it from my father, but I could also hear it going back even further in a different way from the great Clyde Cameron. We really have lost one of the truly great Australians. I will remember him with great fondness, and I pass on my sympathies to Doris, Nan, the member for Enfield, our good friend John Rau, and the rest of the family. We will miss Clyde a lot.

The Hon. J.D. LOMAX-SMITH (Adelaide—Minister for Education and Children's Services, Minister for Tourism, Minister for the City of Adelaide) (15:14): I rise in support of the accolades so ably delivered by others and to record my respect and admiration for a man who, as with many others in this chamber, I had the privilege of knowing, and I feel very humbled by that experience. He first wrote to me when I was a member of the Adelaide City Council, surprisingly enough. He offered me advice even at that stage in my career. He encouraged me and he criticised me only rarely.

Surprisingly, it was some years before we met in the flesh. I cannot quite explain why it took so long for us to meet but, when we did meet, I was even more astounded because he behaved with extraordinary generosity to someone whose career was really of little importance or unlikely to be of any importance to someone with his history. I have to say that that encouragement was always tinged with something that some people may find surprising, and that was my sense of a degree of humility. I have never heard anyone talk of Clyde and humility in the same sentence, but I always felt that he was very generous in offering advice to someone of so little standing and importance as me.

We heard that Clyde supported members for the western suburbs and was very generous in that, but he also stretched his interest and enthusiasm to the seat of Adelaide. I was very grateful for that. I offer my condolences to his extended family and also to the member for Enfield of whom I know Clyde must have been enormously proud, and I offer my respects to the family. My view of Clyde Cameron was that he was a man of colossal intellect—colossal. He was engaging and always fully engaged, and he led a principled and outstanding life. We will all struggle to fulfil the standards he set for us. We may all be unworthy, but he remains an inspiration to us all and we are very lucky to have known him.

Ms BEDFORD (Florey) (15:17): Today we have all remembered Clyde Cameron. His work on behalf of workers, his representation of workers through his association with the Australian Workers Union and his contribution to Australian political life have been made tribute to by previous speakers here today and I obviously concur with their remarks. I feel that Clyde's role as a mentor was perhaps his greatest contribution, because the strength of our democracy relies heavily on the calibre of candidates and persons elected to represent their communities at every level of endeavour.

His funeral service, as his life, involved many giants of the Australian Labor Party and beyond. He was a friend to many on the other side, too. A patriotic South Australia and a unique piece of the Australian history of political life which has changed so greatly since both he and I were first elected. Clyde was a kind supporter of the Florey sub-branch. He and Doris making the long trip from Tennyson to Modbury in what I recall was particularly hot weather to be a popular and memorable speaker for our Chinese new year celebrations in the year of 2000. We were regular correspondents, his last handwritten letter arriving shortly after his birthday this year.

I remember well his pride in receiving life membership of the Australian Labor Party in 2006. To Doris and all Clyde's family, I extend deepest sympathy on your sad loss from me, my staff and sub-branch members, and on behalf of Florey residents, so many of whom have benefited from Clyde's work and who would, I know, want you to know how much he was esteemed. And also my condolences to Clyde's son, Warren, who became a friend via our regular chats at the Modbury North mail depot in the days when there was still a night shift. Clyde has left us all with many memories through which he will always be remembered.

The Hon. J.W. WEATHERILL (Cheltenham—Minister for Families and Communities, Minister for Aboriginal Affairs and Reconciliation, Minister for Housing, Minister for Ageing, Minister for Disability, Minister Assisting the Premier in Cabinet Business and Public Sector Management) (15:18): I briefly rise to add my voice to the condolence motion. I want to separate out one small part of Clyde's contribution in his enormous legacy. It is the legacy that he gave to the Labor movement and, through that, the Labor Party in relation to his reforms when he was minister for labour in relation to the way in which unions are governed. He had a long history of working in a union that was very troubled in relation to internecine factional disputes. Indeed, the AWU was legendary for its internecine factional disputes.

An honourable member interjecting:

The Hon. J.W. WEATHERILL: In fact, I remember the first day I was employed in the AWU, within an hour they were meeting to consider my dismissal which—

The Hon. J.D. Hill: That long.

The Hon. J.W. WEATHERILL: That is right. I had not even found where I was going to sit. Just as an aside, I did not have an extensive personal relationship with Clyde but I was always fascinated that, whenever a factional dispute was occurring, of all the photocopiers in South Australia, Clyde managed to find the one in the AWU office was the one that had to be used at that particular point in time. He was clearly a very active man in terms of advice.

The Hon. M.J. Atkinson interjecting:

The Hon. J.W. WEATHERILL: That's right. But I really want to return to the serious point, that is, the governance reforms. Because of his long history in relation to what can happen to minority interests within trade unions, one of the first things he did as minister for labour was to introduce some important democratic reforms to the way in which unions are governed (in particular, outlawing the collegiate system of election of officials requiring direct election, which was crucial) and a range of other democratic reforms that entrenched minority rights within unions.

He was also a very important proponent of reforms that made it easier for unions to amalgamate. He could see that the demarcation disputes, which were enormous in the years leading up to his reforms and which led to the amalgamation of the unions, were not only crippling industry but were also undermining the integrity of unions. So, he provided for the easier provisions for the amalgamation of unions.

The member for Ashford has already referred to the governance and training arrangements that were very important through TUTA. All of those things meant that, instead of having a trade union movement which was replete with corruption and which was not democratically governed, we had a relatively clean trade union movement, and that had a very important influence on the way in which it related to the Labor Party. I do not think it is too much of a stretch to say that the trade union movement would not have been able to run the campaign that it ran in the most recent federal election if it had not been for the sort of trade union Clyde had assisted it to become.

I pass on my commiserations to Doris and her family and, of course, the member for Enfield. I congratulate the member for Enfield on the beautiful speech he gave at the service to honour Clyde.

Ms CICCARELLO (Norwood) (15:22): I would also like to briefly acknowledge the life of Clyde Cameron and, in particular, the contribution he made to the Italian community. When I was telling several people in the Italian community that I was going to Clyde's funeral, they said to pass on their condolences to his family. He was a great friend to all migrant communities but particularly to the Italian community, not only in the western suburbs but also to those on the eastern side of town. On a personal level, I also thank him for all the support and encouragement he gave me, particularly in my earlier preselection times in the Labor Party. Like the late Jack Wright, he always said to me, 'Whatever happens, never let the bastards get you down.'

I offer my condolences to the family. He was a wonderful man, and he made a wonderful contribution to South Australia and to Australia in general, and I know he will be fondly remembered and respected by the Italian community.

Mr RAU (Enfield) (15:23): I was only reminded when the Minister for Families and Communities mentioned what a strange world the AWU inhabits that he was able to be discussed in terms of his dismissal within a few hours of being appointed. I had the privilege of having been dismissed even before I was appointed! Because I was offered a job, I went to my then employer and said, 'Look, I've been offered a job; I'm going to have to resign.' He said, 'Fair enough.'

However, later that afternoon, my employer said to me, 'Look, I've had a phone call from those chaps who offered you that job this morning.' I said, 'Oh, yes.' They said, 'They're not offering you the job any more.' So I had to ask for my job back. It was an interesting place to work, or not to work, as the case may be—and I suspect that it has always been that way in that particular organisation.

In February of this year, Clyde was looking forward to his 95^th birthday and, as was common for him, the preparation included inviting a number of close friends and relatives to join him at the Lakes Hotel for an evening, and he was working on a speech that he was going to give at this gathering. My aunt normally would say to me, 'I think he's working on a speech; you'd better have a chat to him just in case it gets too long or covers ground he's covered before,' which it sometimes did. However, this speech was going to be about his literary achievements. In fact, I still have the speech because he had written it out; he was ready to go. Unfortunately for him, he fell ill the day before that was scheduled to occur, and he did not get to give that speech. That gives you an idea of the level of activity that he was able to engage in, right up to matter of a few weeks ago.

He was a very interesting man for so many reasons but, importantly for young people with a sense of history, he was a living link to people in the past. Just as I will be able to say to my children and grandchildren that I knew the honourable member for Stuart, who in turn knew many other luminaries of this parliament himself and served with them, so Clyde was able to say to me that he served in parliament with Billy Hughes, who, of course, was a member of the First Parliament in 1901. He knew people like Chifley and Curtin and all the other Labor leaders, even Scullin, from then to the present time. He served with Sir Robert Menzies, with Sir Jack McEwen, and various other great figures in Australia's history.

He was a man of strong principles and great integrity. I hope I am not doing any disservice to the future career of the honourable member for Stuart, but I understand that he may be leaving at the end of this term—but, again, there are many similarities between him and my uncle in the sense that, for example, on the principled issue of barley marketing I know the honourable member for Stuart has maintained his very correct principles about that matter and I am sure that, had my uncle been on the other side of the fence, he would have been a great supporter and understood the importance of organisation in marketing arrangements. It is an example of a matter of integrity and principle.

As a young person, I remember going to the flat that the Minister for Industrial Relations spoke of at Marion Road and I was always impressed by the phenomenal cuisine that Clyde had in his home. I actually used to like going there. I used to ride a bike there often when I knew he was home because I had the opportunity of getting canned fish and condensed milk. It never occurred to me these were the incidents of a person who travels all the time and comes home only for a weekend and needs to have a snack. At the time, I thought it meant he had an exotic diet and great cuisine.

I also remember at that flat another name that the Minister for Industrial Relations mentioned, the Hon. James Dunford MLC (deceased), and he was a regular attendee prior to, I think, and after becoming the Hon. James Dunford. In any event, I do recall him turning up there one night when my parents and I were there for dinner and he was in the company of another man—I think it might have been Possum Baker but I am not sure—and they had evidently been out discussing important matters and they had decided that it was important that they have a couple of drinks.

They turned up fairly well primed. They sat down and one of them announced to the rest of us that he had just saved the other's marriage, and I cannot remember who was doing what, but it then progressed into a fairly inarticulate discussion which involved a lot of language which we now get on television but which at that stage was not common. I remember my father saying, 'Come on, Jim, the lad's here. Watch your language,' which then provoked some more of that language.

Eventually Clyde solved the problem by pouring out a glass of Pirramimma and holding it under Jim's nose and leading him out of the flat with a glass of wine until he was in the foyer of the flat and then Clyde ran back into the flat and shut the door! He was a man possessed of a great sense of humour. He was a very temperate person himself; I do not remember him raising his voice in anger to anybody. I do not recall him being nasty or aggressive to anybody. He was always great company, tremendous company. He was very proud of his family.

He was very proud of his service in the Labor Party and the federal parliament and, in particular, his period of service as minister for labour, which was for him his life's work. I agree with other speakers that it is a great shame that circumstances dealt him such a short opportunity to exercise his great skills in an executive role in government, but that was the way things tumbled out for him. Over the years I have had many discussions with him. It is not really fair to say that we ever had debates because he was not that sort of person. He would simply put up a point of view; he would listen to your point of view and say, 'Well, maybe,' and that would be the end of it. There would not be any banter or badgering—none of that.

One of these debates we had for about 20 years was on the subject of proportional representation. He has always been a fan of it; I have always thought it was obnoxious. We would sit there and have discussions about this. He would listen to me and that would be the end of it, then a few weeks or months or years later we would come back to it and he would put his point of view and I would put mine and that would be the end of it, but it was never anything aggressive and never anything other than temperate and calm.

As I said, he was great company; he was a great person to be with. I remember my father said to me, in one of the few impartings of wisdom that he tried during his time with us, that in a person's life you will have many acquaintances, you will have a number of friends but only one or two really good mates—people who know you and you know them and on whom you can rely. For me, aside from having been a fantastic fellow, he was a great mate and I will miss him very much. I extend my condolences to Warren, my aunt and all the members of his family and I join with other members of the house.

Honourable members: Hear, hear!

The SPEAKER: I also extend my condolences to Mr Cameron's family and my good friend, the member for Enfield, and I ask all members in support of the motion to rise in their places.

Motion carried by members standing in their places in silence.

[Sitting suspended from 15:33 to 15:43]