Adam Carr Intellectuals and Politics in 1930s Melbourne Events leading to the formation of the Australian Council for Civil Liberties, 1914-37 3. Civil liberties in Australia 1914-36 The first question to be asked about the forming of the ACCL is: why did it take so long? The civil and political rights of Australians had been hotly contested ever since 1914, and had been the subject of intense political conflict at several points in the 1920s and 1930s. Several federal elections, notably that of 1925, had been fought almost exclusively on these issues. Yet it was not until 1935, apparently, that it occurred to anybody to form an organisation designed specifically to address them. This requires some explaining, especially since a model had existed since 1920 in the form of the American Civil Liberties Union. World War I and the 1920s The outbreak of World War I posed an unprecedented challenge to the political institutions of the English-speaking democracies as they found themselves drawn into the first global industrialised war. Twentieth century warfare required the mobilisation of the whole of the combatant nations, not just of a professional army, and the successfully militarised society of the German adversary seemed to call for a comparable militarisation of the allied nations. In the English-speaking countries, governments met this challenge by giving themselves unprecedented powers, backed (at least initially) by the full force of public opinion. Opposition to the war, where it existed, was met with repression, directed variously at pacifists, socialists, German-speaking minorities, Irish republicans and anti- conscriptionists. As enthusiasm for the war waned after 1915, repression of anti-war elements became more severe, and became itself a cause of further disaffection. An Australian writer said that: "The war which was to have made the world safe for democracy placed authority more firmly in the saddle; the world was in danger of forgetting - or of not being allowed to remember - that democracy lives by persuasion, not by dictation."[16] In Australia, the ALP government of Andrew Fisher passed the War Precautions Act of 1914, modelled on the British Defence of the Realm Act. This gave the government sweeping powers of economic and manpower direction, political surveillance and censorship, subject only to the Constitution (and the High Court consistently allowed the most liberal interpretation of the government's wartime powers). In the hands of the autocratic Billy Hughes, Prime Minister from 1915, these powers were used extensively against the radical and anti-war wing of the labour movement, particularly against the revolutionaries of the Industrial Workers of the World (IWW). The battles over conscription in 1916 and 1917, which split the ALP and saw Hughes form a Nationalist government, deepened the polarisation in Australian society. Many violations of peacetime freedoms could be and were excused on the grounds of wartime necessity, but the conflict between Hughes and the left of the labour movement did not end with the return of peace in 1918.[17] The postwar years were a period of fierce industrial conflict, in which middle-class fears of union militancy were intensified by the rhetoric of social revolution used by some unions, the newly formed Communist Party, and even by the ALP, which adopted its Socialist Objective in 1922. The class polarisation of the period sustained the Nationalist Party in office until 1929. The central figure in the government's response to industrial challenges was John Latham, Attorney-General in Stanley Bruce's Nationalist government. In January 1926, following the government's failure to secure the deportation of two foreign-born union officials, Tom Walsh and Jacob Johnson (or Johanson), using the deportation powers of the Migration Act, he introduced amendments to the Crimes Act aimed at, as one newspaper headline put it, "wreckers," "revolutionary associations" and "strikemongers."[18] The bill inserted a new Section IIA into the Act, entitled "Protection of the Constitution and of Public and Other Services," which declared to be "unlawful associations" any body of persons "which by its constitution or propaganda or otherwise advocates or encourages the overthrow of the Constitution of the Commonwealth by revolution or sabotage." Other sections made it an offence to advocate by speech or writing the overthrow of the Constitution, or to contribute goods or money to an unlawful association, or to print its newspapers." Another section required an individual to prove that he or she was not a member of an unlawful association rather than requiring the government to prove that he or she was. Latham justified this legislation by claiming that there was "a small but growing body of men who, inspired by foreign ideals, deliberately seek the destruction of Australian democracy," and quoted extensively from Marx and from publications of the Communist Party of Australia (CPA) advocating revolution. In a memorable if somewhat sinister passage, he asserted that, "It is not sufficient to counter propaganda of this character by mere argument intended to secure intellectual conviction. Some of these men are not open to intellectual conviction; they require criminal conviction."[19] From the Depression to the Kisch case Latham's legislation seems to have made little practical difference to the industrial climate, and it was Bruce and Latham's mishandling of industrial relations which led to the fall of Bruce's government in 1929. Latham returned to his post as Attorney-General in the UAP government of Joe Lyons, which took office in 1932. By this time the Depression and the inflammatory rhetoric of NSW Premier Jack Lang had produced a new wave of middle-class insecurity about militant unionism and communism, although in fact the unions were gravely weakened by mass unemployment and the CPA was small, weak and divided. Latham introduced a new set of amendments to the Crimes Act, empowering him to obtain a declaration from the High Court that a "body of persons, incorporated or unincorporated, constituted an unlawful association under the existing provisions of the Act because it advocated sedition or violent revolution." The Amendments also enabled him to compel persons and organisations to answer questions and disclose documents, deprived executive members of "declared" organisations of the federal franchise, and made members of "declared" organisations not born in Australia liable for deportation.[20] The amendments to the Crimes Act were not the only evidence of the authoritarian tone of the Lyons government. It banned the importation of "seditious" books and newspapers (particularly those from or about the Soviet Union), and prevented the transmission of Australian-produced communist literature through the mails. It also banned the employment of communists (a term often loosely defined) in the public service or other areas of government employment, and tried to have the editors of communist newspapers prosecuted for sedition. Most of these repressive activities were fairly amateurish, and the worst ones were rejected by the courts.[21] Few outside the CPA believed that Australian governments were capable of serious repression. One writer argued that while "British Liberalism could not furnish a platform that would win an election in Australia today. . . its central tenets are accepted by a majority of Australians. We believe in religious freedom, in government by the consent of the majority, in equality before the law. The practical manifestations of these beliefs may be negative - but let any government seriously challenge them!. . . Governments may talk of deporting 'agitators,' or of suppressing 'seditious' literature; secret societies may bluff and bluster. Everybody knows that neither will do anything serious."[22] But liberal and radicals saw a consistent pattern in Australia's tradition of "lazy authoritarianism." One was Brian Fitzpatrick, who later wrote that "Commonwealth policies relating to civil liberties show a continuity, through all the changes of party government. . . It was seldom that parliamentary party battles were fought over a democratic principle, or over hurt done an individual or group, against democratic principle, by a government." Tracing the history of illiberal legislation from 1914, Fitzpatrick noted that, "by 1932. . . political offenders had lost rights which had been the safeguard of every accused person against abuse by public authorities of the overwhelming might of the law. . . [They] no longer had the right to know and cross-examine witnesses against them; their innocence was no longer assumed until proof of guilt; they were not necessarily tried by jury; and the protection of the laws of evidence was withheld from them. . . All parties, when in power, showed an inclination to regulate. . . Parliamentarians of all parties inclined more and more towards a conception of civil order which bore a closer likeness to the European police-state of Bismarck's pattern, than to the institutions of personal freedom which were supposed to be integral to the British system of government."[23] The final straw for many liberal-minded people seems to have been the Kisch case of 1934. Egon Kisch was a Czech-born member of the German Communist Party in exile and a well-known writer on radical and anti-war themes in Europe, though hardly the great writer and thinker his Australian admirers sought to portray him as.[24] Invited to Australia as a guest of the Movement Against War and Fascism (a CPA front), he was denied entry by Attorney-General Robert Menzies on the grounds that "The presence of this gentleman [is] not needed in a free self-governing country such as Australia, which [has] been able to achieve a very high degree of happiness and prosperity without the intervention of the subversive views for which [he] stands."[25] In November 1934 Kisch literally jumped ship in Melbourne, breaking his leg, but was put back on board and then arrested in Sydney. He was ordered imprisoned and deported under the Immigration Act after failing a dictation test in Scots Gaelic. Eventually the High Court ruled the test invalid and Kisch was freed. His treatment, and the philistine image it created for Australia, provoked protests from many writers and intellectuals who did not share his politics, including Walter Murdoch and Professor F R Beasley. Footnotes [16] F R Beasley, "The censorship and exclusion of ideas," Australian Quarterly, 24, 14 December 1934, 20 [17] This account is based on Geoffrey Sawer, Australian Federal Politics and Law, Vol I, 1901-1929, Melbourne 1956, and Vol II, 1929-49, Melbourne 1963; Stuart Macintyre, The Succeeding Age 1901- 1942, Melbourne 1986, chapters 8 and 13; Don Watson, "Anti-Communism in the thirties," Arena, 37, 1975, 40; and (because of the relevance of its author), Brian Fitzpatrick, The Australian People 1788-1945, Melbourne 1946, chapter 24. [18] The Argus, Melbourne, 29 January 1926, 11 [19] Latham's second reading speech is at Commonwealth Parliamentary Debates, Volume 112, 457. [20] Sawer, II, 50 [21] Macintyre, 307 [22] J A McCallum, "Political ideas in Australia," Australian Quarterly, No 16, December 1932, 26. I presume that this is John A McCallum, in 1932 a history lecturer and Director of the Australian Institute of Political Science, and later a Liberal Senator from NSW. In a nice irony, McCallum supported the Communist Party Dissolution Act of 1951, which was rejected both by the High Court and the Australian people at referendum. [23] Fitzpatrick, 242-3 [24] In fact he claimed not to be a thinker at all. "I don't think. Stalin thinks for me," he is recorded as saying, in a splendid commentary on communist intellectuals at this time. (Watson, 64) [25] Quoted in C M H Clark, A History of Australia, VI, 466