Let's Queen-hit this republican
nonsense once and for all!

November 6 is decision day for all Australians.
It is the day we must decide whether we stick with the proven, stable system of Constitutional Monarchy that has served us well for almost 100 years – or throw ourselves over the edge into the abyss of uncertainty, chaos and dictatorial suppression that will surely be the Republic of Australia.
Whatever the result, I know those who have fought for the Monarchy’s cause have put up a strong case.
The other day I was contemplating the long and arduous “no” campaign in which I have been pleased to play a not inconsiderable part.
For me, the one single occasion that will stay in my mind was the night of February 1, 1998.
A few short weeks before, I had been lucky enough to be elected as a delegate to the Constitutional Convention starting in Canberra the next day.
That night – as I boarded my plane for Canberra at Brisbane Airport – I knew I had to put personal feelings aside and do my best to oppose those who were – and still are – seeking to destroy our long-standing system of British Constitutional Monarchy.
Still, I had grave reservations about whether the forces of good could surmount those of evil.
On reaching my seat that night I was more than pleasantly surprised to find myself perched next to an old and dear friend – former Liberal Party federal minister, wit, raconteur and fellow pro-Monarchy convention delegate, Sir James Killen.
Killen – the moniker he prefers – pretended not to recognise me, such is his impish sense of humour. I played along.
“My good man, won’t you join me?” he said, theatrically raising one of the miniature bottles on the seat-tray in front of him.
“Unfortunately, there’s no whiskey on this plane, so we’ll have to settle for whisky,” Killen said, laughing at his own joke. I laughed too, even though I had heard it from him many times.
“I’d be delighted Sir,” I replied, as I settled into the seat beside him.
My nervousness must have shown in the way I downed my first drink. Killen picked it immediately.
“My dear sir, as Edmund Burke once put it: No passion so effectually robs the mind of all its powers of acting and reasoning as fear,” Killen said, quoting his favourite 18th century Irish statesman and orator.
I knew Killen had always had a soft spot for Burke. Indeed, without wanting to sound immodest, I have always felt my own career in many ways parallelled that of Burke’s – being a key decision-maker in government, although I never achieved, nor sought, public office.
As we threw back our next drink, I admitted to Killen my apprehension at the task that lay ahead of us over the coming 10 days at the Constitutional Convention, in particular the fact that – at the time – public opinion appeared to be running against the pro-Monarchy arguments.
“Because half a dozen grasshoppers under a fern make the field ring with their importunate chink, do not imagine that those who make the noise are the only inhabitants of the field,” Killen said, quoting Edmund Burke again while motioning for the air hostess to bring us some more miniatures.
I raised my glass and the possibility that we – the pro-Monarchists – might be forced to accept a new Constitutional model that was something less than the status quo.
“All government – indeed every human benefit and enjoyment, every virtue and every prudent act – is founded on compromise and barter,” Killen replied, quoting Edmund Burke while motioning for the air hostess to bring us some more miniatures.
In the lead-up to the Constitutional Convention, republicans such as that oleaginous merchant banker, Malcolm Turnbull, had mounted a concerted offensive against the Monarchists.
I expressed to Killen my feeling that Turnbull and company appeared to be winning the battle for the hearts and minds of the public.

“He that wrestles with us strengthens our nerves and sharpens our skill. Our antagonist is our helper,” Killen said, quoting Edmund Burke while motioning for the air hostess to bring us some more miniatures.
As I drained another drink, I outlined my fears – which I knew he shared – about the dangers of having an elected president.
“The greater the power, the more dangerous the abuse,” Killen said, quoting Edmund Burke while motioning for the air hostess to bring more miniatures.
I told him that I considered the Constitutional Convention to be just the beginning, that the real battle – fighting any referendum that proposed changing the current system - lay ahead of us and we must commit to the long haul.
“Our patience will achieve more than our force,” Killen said, quoting Edmund Burke while motioning for the air hostess to bring us some more miniatures.
Then, I told him I had always considered the Monarchy to be like a mighty tree – its roots deep in our past and its branches reaching up into our future.
“A tree, no matter how small, must have room to grow. Therefore when you plant it, make sure the hole you dig is wide and deep,” Killen said, quoting Don Burke while motioning for the air hostess to bring us some more miniatures.
I realised, yet again, what a tonic Killen can be and, as the cabin crew closed doors and cross-checked, and our plane backed away from the Brisbane terminal to begin taxiing for take-off, I felt considerably more relaxed and confident of a positive outcome from the Convention – the utter annihilation of the Republican cause.
The next day – the opening session of the Convention – I bumped into Killen who, ever the joker, again pretended not to know me.
I told him what a help he had been in firming my resolve.
Never one to accept praise easily, he looked over my shoulder at a clock on the wall and simply said: “Good Lord, it’s five minutes to ten.” Then he hurried off.
Indeed it was then “five to ten” as Killen so eloquently put it.
But, as we approach November 6, it is “five minutes to midnight” and we shall soon see whether the Australia we know and love survives into the next millennium.

Rufus Badinage MBE, now retired, is one of Australia’s leading experts
on politics and public administration having worked
as a senior bureaucrat for various state and federal governments.