Rise And Rise Of Kevin Rudd

by Glenn Milne - Sunday Mail (Brisbane)

I know the moment when Kevin Rudd took the first steps down the road that could make him Opposition Leader tomorrow and potentially Prime Minister at the next election, because I was with him.

It was the summer of 1995 and I was in Brisbane covering a meeting of the Council of Australian Governments.

At that time Labor's Wayne Goss was Premier of Queensland and Rudd, after serving as his chief of staff, had become head of the Cabinet Policy Unit and arguably the most powerful bureaucrat in the state.

During the period I covered Queensland state politics I had known Goss well – we used to play tennis once a week before he became Premier and therefore I had also got to know Rudd. During the COAG meeting he asked me would I like to have dinner.

In the business of politics there is always an agenda. I waited to find out what it was as we ate at the Pier Nine restaurant down on the Brisbane River. It wasn't until we were in a bar later that Rudd broached what was on his mind.

"I'm thinking about running for federal Labor pre-selection," he told me. "And I was wondering if you had any views?"

I replied with three bullet points:

1. You should run because you will be an adornment to the federal Labor caucus.

2. You will probably one day make a fine foreign minister in a Labor government.

3. But if you're thinking about leading the ALP, forget it. The punters will not take to a bookish Mandarin-speaking former diplomat as a Labor leader. The voters will think you're from Mars.

So what has happened in the intervening period?

After eight years in Parliament, Kevin Rudd is suddenly measured by the polls as a better leadership prospect than Kim Beazley who has been in the Parliament more than 20 years and served in a multitude of ministries right up to Deputy Prime Minister.

Two things are clear. Rudd has changed since 1995. And since he came into parliament in 1998, so has the ALP.

To Rudd himself in a minute; but first the federal Labor caucus.

After a decade in the wilderness, Labor MPs are desperate for victory. That many are turning to the untested Rudd is a measure of their desperation.

In Kim Beazley they see a kind and determined man who after the horrors of the Mark Latham experiment has once again made the party competitive.

Beazley's failing is that he has not managed to convince his caucus peers or voters that he has what it takes to defeat John Howard.

The caucus knows Rudd is no Latham. Ferociously bright and sure-footed, he's proved that in his capacity as Shadow Foreign Minister. What the caucus must weigh when they vote tomorrow is whether to chance their arm once again on a relative unknown.

While a shift to Rudd would largely be a reflection of disillusionment with Beazley, it cannot be questioned it is Rudd's achievement that he has fashioned himself into a palatable alternative.

That is not to say the caucus likes him. His colleagues have bestowed upon him two nicknames; "Harry Potter" and "The Pixie". Neither is particularly affectionate.

But perhaps the key to the conversion of caucus opinion on Rudd is better explained by his nickname when he was head of Goss's Cabinet office – "Dr Death".

Rudd describes himself as "a very determined bastard". The Dr Death moniker hints at the kind of mongrel many in the Labor caucus believe is needed to tear John Howard down – the antithesis of Beazley's character and perhaps his fatal flaw as a politician.

Rudd has demonstrated this to his colleagues through his ruthless rise through ALP ranks and his pointed appetite for leadership. But it has not all come easily.

Kevin Michael Rudd was the son of a poor Queensland dairy farmer, born in the town of Nambour. His father did not finish primary school nor his mother high school.

Rudd's political consciousness began to form after his father was killed in a car accident in 1968. Rudd was 11.

Because his dad was a share farmer, the family were thrown off the land and he vividly remembers having to sleep in a car with his mother and siblings as she desperately sought accommodation.

He later remarked that he thought then that nobody should have to go through such an experience.

Given Nambour's location in then conservative Queensland, it was an unlikely starting point for a future Labor leader.

As Rudd noted in his maiden speech: Nambour was "not exactly the centre of revolutionary socialism".

At the local high school he graduated as dux. In an accident of history, Labor's Treasury Spokesman, Wayne Swan, was school captain. As you read this, Swan will be organising the numbers against Rudd. Such is the nature of politics.

Geography, though, will favour Rudd tomorrow to this extent; the Coalition is at an absolute high water mark in Queensland. Any Labor victory in 2007 will swing on the ALP winning a swag of seats here. Another proven vote winner, Queensland Premier, Peter Beattie has acknowledged Rudd has appeal in his home state.

As a student, Rudd went on to graduate from the Australian National University with first class honours in Chinese language and history.

He also met his wife, Therese at university, where they shared a committed Christian faith. They married in 1981 and have three children.

She is a self-made millionaire, courtesy of the Howard Government's privatisation of job placement schemes.

Rudd's last posting as a diplomat was to Beijing between 1984 and 1986. When Chinese Leader, Hu Jintao, visited the Australian Parliament in 2003, Rudd spoke to him in fluent Mandarin. Some of his colleagues derided him for being a poseur. But, like most things Rudd attempts, it made an impression – an important trait in a potential leader.

From that sort of self-promotion Rudd has obtained a profile unmatched by most of Labor's other shadow ministers. There is no doubting that through dint of sheer hard work he has made an impact on the electorate. Imagine what he could do, say his supporters, if he became leader?

The other trait that stands out with Rudd is that nothing has been given to him on a plate. He has no factional patrons. Indeed the dominant section of his factional base, the Right in Queensland, has blocked him at every opportunity.

In 1996 when he first stood for the seat of Griffith he was wiped out as part of the anti-Keating landslide. He fought on to take the seat in 1998. When he first won he needed a swing of 2 per cent. Today he has a margin of 17 per cent. That's real votes from real voters.

What if he could replicate that sort of result nationally? It is a question the ALP caucus will be pondering over the next 24 hours. The answer will determine the next step in Kevin Rudd's career.