Jacks and Jokers (18 page)

He added that during a subsequent raid on the club on 22 June, 41 people were arrested on a total of 59 charges, and that as a result of this attention Short ‘moved his activities to the Gold Coast, setting up a new gaming establishment at Koala Court, Broadbeach’, which was also raided on 4 July. Newbery claimed that according to police information Short had been unable to pay his phone bill, was behind in his rent and was in arrears in payments for the lease of his luxury motor vehicle.

The Nationals didn’t let up on Hooper, and on 1 September, in parliament, showed that in an effort to disparage someone’s reputation they were capable of digging up personal dirt with the same dexterity as the Rat Pack. The verbose independent for Townsville South, the burley and loud Thomas ‘Tory Tom’ Aikens, asked Newbery a series of Questions on Notice.

The questions were:

1. Is he aware of a woman named Kathleen Mary Hooper, aged 20, of Brisbane?

2. Does he know if this woman is a relation of the ALP member for Archerfield?

3. Has this woman three convictions for prostitution?

4. If so, did these convictions result in fines ranging from $150 to $400?

5. Is this woman the source of the honourable member for Archerfield’s intimate and detailed knowledge of prostitution, massage parlours and standover criminals in Brisbane which he used yesterday in this House to smear unnamed senior police officers and members of this parliament?

Newbery responded with relish: ‘I have no desire to score points off any family problems the honourable member for Archerfield may have. It is unfortunate that his recent irresponsible and provocative actions have precipitated this question, but he can only blame himself for it.’

Newbery confirmed that Kathleen Mary Hooper had indeed collected three convictions for prostitution. ‘From recent utterances in this House by the honourable member for Archerfield, it seems evident that he has close contact in the massage parlour business,’ he added.

For Hooper, it was grist to the mill.

That’s Government Policy Now

As Commissioner Lewis was taking in the sights of Stockholm in early September, walking to the Royal Palace with New South Wales Police Commissioner Merv Wood, enjoying a show at the sumptuous centuries-old Drottningholm Court Theatre and admiring a female in the foyer of his hotel, the Continental – ‘saw most beautiful black woman … had glorious hair, chest and legs’ – Premier Joh Bjelke-Petersen and his Cabinet were thrashing out some important upcoming legislation ahead of the election later in the year.

The National Party would ban protest marches on the streets of Queensland.

The Premier told a reporter for the Brisbane
Sunday Mail
on Saturday 3 September, of the impending ban, linking the decision to the Federal Government’s recent proclamation that uranium mining would be permitted in Australia, and the street protests that would inevitably follow.

‘Protest marches are a thing of the past,’ Bjelke-Petersen said. ‘Nobody including the Communist Party or anyone else is going to turn the streets of Brisbane into a forum. Protest groups need not bother applying for permits to stage marches – because they won’t be granted.’

Incredibly, the Premier also denied that ‘files’ were kept on demonstrators – only on people who committed offences. ‘Files are not kept for the fun of it,’ he said.

The following day Bjelke-Petersen qualified this new policy. ‘Recognised non-political processions’ such as Anzac Day, Australia Day, Labor Day and Warana, the annual cultural street parade, would be exempt from the ban.

‘Anybody who holds a street march, spontaneous or otherwise, will know they’re acting illegally,’ the Premier added. ‘Police will be fair, but firm. Don’t bother applying for a march permit. You won’t get one. That’s government policy now.’

The amended
Traffic Act
legislation would remove any appeal for a permit to a Stipendiary Magistrate. Anyone who wanted to argue for a street-march permit now had to deal directly with Police Commissioner Terry Lewis.

Bjelke-Petersen had learned a lot since the famous Springboks demonstrations of 1971. That tense winter had in many ways set the course for his premiership – the police force could be an extension of his political power, and the greater Queensland electorate seemed to like a firm leader who shared their conservative values.

One member of the National/Liberal Coalition, however, was far from happy with the course the government was taking. Colin Lamont was the member for South Brisbane, a first-term parliamentarian who had lived an extraordinarily colourful and full life prior to entering politics.

Lamont was born Colin Bird in Brisbane in 1941. He would go on to change his surname by deed poll to Lamont. ‘He fancied himself as a writer,’ remembers Malcolm McMillan. ‘He thought C.C. Bird didn’t have as good a ring to it as C.C. Lamont.’

Lamont studied at Brisbane Teachers College, then immersed himself in a degree in political science, history and government at the University of Queensland. As a student, he was the arts representative on the student council, and was the Queensland education officer of the National Union of Australian University Students in 1963. He was also the editor of the student magazine
Semper Floreat
.

Lamont then tried his luck in London where he committed to further studies, before heading to Hong Kong where he was a detective-inspector with the Royal Hong Kong Police. For a time he worked in the special intelligence branch of Britain’s MI6. Returning to Australia in the early 1970s, Lamont went back to teaching, holding the position of senior history master at Brisbane Grammar School until trying his hand at politics.

Wanting a shot at Federal Parliament, Lamont contested the state seat of South Brisbane as a Liberal candidate in the 1974 election as a sort of dry run for higher ambitions. The strong ALP seat was once held by the crime fighter Colin Bennett. Most said Lamont had little hope. He, however, was confident. He needed an 11 per cent swing.

In the end he got 17 per cent, comfortably taking the seat and his place in Parliament House on George Street. It may have been something in the South Brisbane electorate waters, but Lamont was a feisty, passionate politician from day one, and believed with vehemence in the accountability and transparency of government. He was outspoken against the Cedar Bay raid that had contributed to the unseating of Police Commissioner Ray Whitrod, and he was publicly opposed to the street-march legislation and its strangulation on civil liberties.

Lamont got to know and like Whitrod, particularly following the latter’s resignation in November 1976. Both men were well educated. Lamont, on his election to parliament, chafed at the intellectual paucity in the House. ‘I remember Don Neal [National Party politician and farmer from western Queensland] half laughing at me and saying, “You’ve got a Bachelor of Arts … what do you paint?” ’ Lamont remembered in an interview. ‘They weren’t very sophisticated people, some of them.’

At midday on 7 September 1977, Lamont rose and relayed an extraordinary story to the House. He was familiar with his old alma mater, and he was also familiar with street violence, experienced during his years as a police officer in Hong Kong. A pro-active politician who did what he said, he had gone out to the University of Queensland that morning hoping to prevent a student protest planned for later that day.

Lamont implored the students to desist in a soapbox address with logic and compassion. ‘I went out there in the hope that I could address the students because I knew that they were contemplating an illegal march,’ Lamont said. ‘When I arrived I found a couple of hundred students listening to a student leader who was reading out the rules of the march.

‘Mr [Derek] Fielding, the President of the Queensland Council for Civil Liberties, came across to me and said, “I think we are here in the same capacity today. We are trying to talk them out of it.” ’

Lamont was permitted to speak to the students. He later addressed parliament:

I told the students that I have a great concern, as do, I think, other members of this Assembly, for the right to freedom of assembly and the right to freedom of expression. I also told them that I felt that the decision to march in protest was made in ignorance of the decision made by government members yesterday afternoon. We made the decision yesterday afternoon as government members that permits should not be issued for street marches where it clearly appeared that such marches would be provocative and therefore probably result in violence.

You know as well as I do, Mr Speaker, that some marches are deliberately provocative. And we said that where violence was likely or probable we felt the permit should not be given. That was not directing the Commissioner of Police; this was supporting what the police themselves wanted.’

Lamont had explained to the students that if they continued to march they ‘would be marching deliberately to come into conflict with the police.’ The students accepted the logic and voted not to march.

Lamont gave the House an insight into the responsible attitude of the students to street protests by reading a document circulated by student leaders that morning. By exposing the extent to which students were prepared to abide by new draconian laws to curtail their civil rights, Lamont also highlighted the ridiculousness of the legislation itself.

The point-by-point protest march guideline stated:

1. 1.
   The march must disband immediately when the marshalls give the direction to do so. Disbanding will take place at least 50 metres from any police lines.
   
2. 2.
   Once the marshalls have directed the march to disband people should do so in the following manner:
   
3. i.
   Move away from the police and keep moving away.
   
4. ii.
   Move on to the footpath and form into twos and threes.
   
5. iii.
   Move quickly but do not run.
   
6. iv.
   Disperse over a wide area.
   
7. v.
   Cease chanting the moment the marshalls give the order to disband. Remain quiet and especially do not swear.
   
8. vi.
   Fold up all placards and banners.
   
9. vii.
   Observe all ‘Don’t Walk’ signs; when crossing the road do not obstruct traffic – cross in twos and threes.
   
10. viii.
    If you are close to the University grounds move back there.
    
11. ix.
    Make your way to Roma St. Forum Area.
    

‘I can see members of the Opposition looking terribly glum at this turn of events,’ Lamont concluded. ‘I hope that we can look forward to police not having to put their own selves in danger in the future. The smiles today are on the faces of the police officers who were at the site and were happy to be able to go back to a normal day’s work. I hope this augurs well for the future.’

According to Lamont, two hours after his address to parliament, an incensed Premier Bjelke-Petersen ‘lunged at me across the floor of parliament, waving a tape recorder and spluttered, “I’ve heard every word. You are a traitor to this government!”

‘I went out and spoke on a soapbox the morning that the students were ready to march for the second time. And I managed to persuade them to disburse,’ Lamont remembered. ‘And Joh had the police down the bottom end of Sir Fred Schonell Drive ready to beat the living daylights out of them and throw them into the clink, and say, “Righto, there you are, law and order issue, bang, let’s go to the polls.”

‘He … had a tape, or he had a … well, he said he’d heard, so I assume he had a tape recording of everything I’d said to the students. And the frightening thing was that it had got to his hands as quickly as I’d got back to parliament. So it was … you know, it would lead to the reasonable assumption that the police had … the Special Branch had reported direct to the Premier.’

In a couple of months, at the 1977 state election, the Premier would have a very special surprise for the prickly and unpredictable Colin Lamont.

But This Was Not Peace

Outside the south-east corner of the state, the street-march question was not one that engaged cane farmers in Ingham or cattle barons in western Queensland. It was a Brisbane problem, seen if at all through a telescope.

In Joh’s heartland, this was their Premier taking an iron fist to urban ratbags whose nebulous ideals and actions did nothing more than disrupt the social harmony of the capital. If the streets are clogged with demonstrators, how would the children get picked up from school? How would workers get home to their families after a long day in the office? And why should massive police resources be utilised to control university students and ill-kempt socialists determined to thwart the progress of the great economic juggernaut that was Queensland?

The bill to amend the
Traffic Act
was introduced to parliament on Wednesday 14 September at 2.15 p.m. The bill was passed, with the necessary amendments, at the adjournment of the House at 8.25 p.m.

Lamont remembered the passing of the legislation. ‘… I stepped out for a short time to attend to some business,’ he recalled. ‘When I came back I was astounded to hear that the bill had been read. “What, the first reading?” I asked. “No,” I was told, “all three readings.”