This month Edward Gough Whitlam turned 95, still a towering figure of almost mythological proportions to Australia's baby-boomers: dragonslayer to the Labor faithful, Smaug himself to conservatives who continue to use his name as a curse.
Whitlam remains imperious, even seated in a wheelchair entering his rare public appearances, immaculately dressed and secure in his place in the nation's political history.
Prime Minister Julia Gillard has tried to shelter beneath his mantle, comparing Labor now to the great reforming rush of Whitlam's furious, doomed days in the mid-1970s. In turn, her opponents deride the Government's economic management as "Whitlamesque".
But for the generations that have followed the boomers, Whitlam, his reforms, and the constitutional crisis of his dismissal are sepia-tinged at best: faded memories for those who recognise the name beyond the eponymous rock band, and not even in the consciousness of many young Australians to whom the events of almost four decades past are two lifetimes distant.
His legacy - political, economic, social and cultural - remains disputed. Were it not for the fact that he was sacked by Governor-General Sir John Kerr, some argue, would he be remembered at all?
Despite winning two elections, Whitlam served only two years, 11 months and seven days in office. But he is tied to the spirit of an age and the emergence of a new Australian identity, in part defined by reforms that helped shape the framework of today's society and culture. And he became a martyr to the cause.
His nemesis, former Liberal Prime Minister Malcolm Fraser, is now a friend who has abandoned his old party and adopted many of the causes Whitlam advocated. Both were considered remote, arrogant leaders with immense egos, yet shared common ambitions for their country.
After being thrown from office by Labor's Bob Hawke in 1983, Fraser emerged as a humanist campaigning for human rights and international development. Like Whitlam, he wanted to tame capitalism. Both are nationalists and republicans.
"[Whitlam] was a vigorous, imaginative person with a tremendous command of language and in those circumstances it was a very natural thing for him to do, but he never seemed to blame me personally for the things that had happened," Fraser told an ABC interviewer. "Then he began to see that I had a view of Australia which in some respects was similar to his."
Whitlam was a new phenomenon for Labor. Unlike his predecessors, he had not been a worker. He was born in 1916 to an affluent family and was educated at elite schools as his father followed a career that ultimately took him to Canberra as Commonwealth Crown Solicitor.
Whitlam graduated in law from Sydney University and later became a Queens Counsel. He marked a new road for subsequent Labor leaders. Although some came from blue-collar backgrounds, only Bill Hayden and Mark Latham experienced life as workers, a sea change that some analysts believe has contributed to a long Labor decline.
But Whitlam was passionate for the party, winning the Sydney seat of Werriwa in 1952 and becoming deputy leader in 1960. He became leader in 1967, lost the 1969 election and began planning for 1972.
Labor was riding a new wave. After 23 years of conservative rule, Australia was ready for change. The world was broiling, with upheavals in Europe and Africa, the war in Vietnam, the cultural revolution in China and social revolution at home, and the explosion of baby-boomers into adulthood.
Yet Whitlam could easily have been a liability. Research found that voters - especially women - considered the Labor leader cold and distant. The answer was the "It's Time" campaign.
Taking its lead from the Kennedy campaigns in the US, It's Time featured Whitlam the man, husband and father in a policy-free zone. And it worked: Labor rolled into power and began overturning Australian life with a welter of major reforms.
But the new Government rapidly began to fray at the edges as the internal tensions of powerful and charismatic egos overlaid an almost impossible avalanche of legislation, clashes with the Treasury, badly flawed decisions in response to decaying economic conditions, and a standoff in the Senate that forced a double-dissolution election in 1974.
Cyclone Tracy destroyed Darwin. Policies such as universal healthcare fanned conservative fears of rampant socialism. No-fault divorce outraged the Church.
The world outside was also growing cold: the first oil shock of 1973, the expansion of Marxist regimes and a steady increase in global insecurity. And the notorious loans affair gave Fraser the ammunition he needed to block supply in the Senate and ultimately bring Whitlam down. The Government had failed to secretly borrow US$4 billion ($4.6 billion) but the Minerals and Energy Minister, Rex Connor, continued to try to raise the money through Middle East arms broker Tirath Khemlani. Even sacking Connor could not save Whitlam.
Kerr withdrew Whitlam's commission as Prime Minister on November 11, 1975, Labor lost the subsequent election to Fraser by a landslide, and Whitlam quit politics in 1978 to pursue a new career in academia and, later, as Australian ambassador to Unesco.
To conservatives, the Whitlam era was an abyss of economic and political mismanagement. But while a number of his measures have since been overturned or diluted, his brief rule produced a large and impressive list of substantive reforms. These included universal healthcare, equal pay for women, increased focus and spending on education - especially for disadvantaged, indigenous and remote students - the abolition of tertiary fees (since reinstated),
federal legal aid, the Racial Discrimination Act, the end of the White Australia policy, community health clinics, paid maternity leave for public servants, and the lowering of the voting age to 18 years.
Whitlam also extended trade practices, powers and consumer protections, launched macro-economic reform by cutting industry tariffs by 25 per cent, established the Industries Assistance (now Productivity) Commission and the Federal Court and the Law Reform Commission.
But Whitlam's party is fading. Membership is less than half what it was 60 years ago - despite the population more than doubling - with a marked decline in blue-collar support. Union membership had slid to just 18 per cent of the workforce.
Unions are also drifting away: the big Victorian Electrical Trades Union quit last year, for example, and is campaigning for a nationwide split.
And young Australians are far less likely to vote Labor than in Whitlam's day. Newspoll recently found that of the nation's 18 to 34-year-olds, 34 per cent would support Labor, 45 per cent the Coalition, and 14 per cent the Greens.
The question is: can the Whitlam legend survive the passing of the boomers?
Parallel politics
New Zealand
* Elected a Labour Government in 1972.
* Prime Minister Norman Kirk encouraged biculturalism, sense of identity.
* Oil shocks tested its economic skills.
* Thrown out after one term.
Australia
* Put Gough Whitlam's Labor Party in power in 1972.
* Whitlam ushered in sweeping reforms.
* Used dubious means to support economy.
* Lasted just three years.
Whitlam: The fading reformer
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