Scarr, Sen Paul

Senator SCARR (Queensland—Deputy Opposition Whip in the Senate) (13:04): At the outset, I associate myself with the remarks of all of my colleagues that I've had the pleasure of sitting and listening to over the course of today. Senator Canavan referred to a particular statistic which is quite unique; that is, that our good friend Senator Jim Molan received 137,325 votes under the line when he stood as a senator. That is an extraordinary figure. That sign of respect and regard from the people of New South Wales—tens and tens of thousands of them—reflects the honour and respect in which Senator Jim Molan was held better than anything we can articulate. As my friend Senator McGrath did, I'd like to reflect on Jim's connection with my home state of Queensland. Jim was commanding officer of 6th Battalion, Royal Australian Regiment and served with great distinction. That battalion was raised at Alamein Barracks in Enoggera. I have spoken to members, veterans, of the Royal Australian Regiment and their respect and regard for Jim. I will speak further, in that respect, subsequently. The motto of that battalion is 'duty first'. Everything Senator Jim Molan did in his capacity as a senator in this place, as a soldier, as a pilot, as a linguist and as a commentator reflected that 'duty first'. But we do recognise, of course, that Jim was a husband, a father, a grandfather and a brother. That, perhaps, was the greatest duty he bore. I reflect, firstly, on how Jim was a mate to us. He was a work colleague. He was something more than a senator or a general. He was a mate. I remember when I first met Jim: at an early morning meeting. Senators on the coalition side would have early morning meetings where we'd discuss notices of motion—at a quarter past eight or 8 o'clock in the morning. Quite often, these notices of motion were brought on at a day's notice. They dealt with many disparate topics. Sometimes they were pushing ideological agendas; other times, seeking wedge politics. A group of us would always get together first thing in the morning and discuss these notices of motion. It was really in that context, each morning, first thing in the morning—we might have had a bit of a torrid day in politics the day before but as soon as Jim arrived, or when Jim was there, and you saw that big smile it meant so much to us. It was such a privilege to work with him. Jim was also my buddy when we used to walk back to our offices from divisions. Senators here will know what that means. On the floor above, Jim's office was on the left side of the corridor and mine was on the right. Typically, we would walk up the stairs together and down the hallway, and we would linger for maybe five or 10 minutes at the fork in the hall as we discussed various things. I really cherish those moments and the times he spoke about his love for his family, his admiration for his daughter Erin—and how you were defending your honour and reputation through the court system and how important that was to him. There's also his intellectual curiosity. I would talk to him about what I was reading or books I'd read. He was always interested, always enthusiastic. He always had that sense of enthusiasm, which meant so much to us. Jim used to laugh at my jokes. Senator Henderson: A great man indeed! Senator SCARR: A great man indeed, says Senator Henderson. That's what Jim was. He had such a generosity of spirit and a great sent of humour. As Senator Colbeck said, we spent a lot of good times, in these corners, during the awful COVID pandemic—in that corner that we used to call 'the sensible corner'. Quite often, those on this side of the place, during divisions, would gather—when we had to all spread out for the COVID pandemic—in that corner. Jim would be there, and my friend Senator Colbeck, Senator McLachlan and others. We'd have good chats and lift the darkness, somewhat, on what was a terrible time. There's also the great contribution Jim made to public debate. In no better way was that articulated than in Jim's passion for a national security strategy, so I would like to read onto the record an excerpt from an article that Jim wrote for the Australian Strategic Policy Institute on 30 July 2021. I want to read these paragraphs onto the record in acknowledgement and respect for Jim's deeply-held views in this regard. I can hear Jim saying these words as I read this. He wrote: But how can there be a defence strategy without an overarching and comprehensive national security strategy? What good is it to have a brilliant defence strategy without national liquid fuel, industry, pharma, science and technology, manpower, diplomacy and stocking policies, and a plan to move from peacetime processes … to the wartime processes that are implied? What good is it for us to be world class at anti-access/area denial based on brilliant materiel solutions if we can no longer feed the people due to a lack of diesel and if we're unable to move smoothly from a peacetime footing to a wartime footing in government and the bureaucracy because we haven't thought it through, and because we lack modern plans or processes? And if the government will put $270 billion into defence over the next 10 years because of the strategic environment, what are we doing for the nation as a whole? If we think vaccinating the population is difficult, try mobilising. That is just so typical of Jim's common sense founded on decades of experience in this space. In memory of Jim all of us should reflect on and seek to take forward those thoughts and that vision in terms of the national security for this country. There's a third area I want to touch on. Last Thursday I spent an evening at the Gaythorne RSL with my good friend Nev Robinson, who served in the Royal Australian Regiment. Nev served in Malaya, Borneo and Vietnam. Jim meant a lot to Nev, as I am sure Jim meant to hundreds of thousands of Australians. Nev is a very patriotic Australian. He has had his health challenges of late, but he still wanted to spend that time sitting down with me at the Gaythorne RSL and giving his thoughts on Jim, so I want to convey those thoughts to the chamber now with respect to Jim. We sat down and we spoke about Jim's book Running the War in Iraq. There are three items, amongst the others that Nev highlighted for me, that I wish to speak quickly on. Nev actually went through and highlighted pages out of Jim's book. He went to Officeworks. He was late to the catch-up at the Gaythorne RSL. He rang me and said: 'Mate, I'm on my way. I had to go to Officeworks. I wanted to photocopy these pages and show you. You have to reflect on this.' Nev, I'm doing that now, mate. The first area is in relation to Jim's time in East Timor, at that extraordinarily difficult time when the people of East Timor voted for independence and democracy. Jim was on the ground in the most dangerous of positions, providing assistance to both Australians and civilians and leaders in the East Timorese community. I want to read a few paragraphs from the excerpts from this book because I think they provide an element of insight into the sorts of issues Jim was managing on the ground for the benefit of people. He's talking about his time at a place called Baucau. He wrote: As the only uniformed Indonesian-speaking person who knew some of the militia, I tried to sort out the mess on the tarmac. The UN quite bravely refused to leave unless the safety of the locals could be guaranteed. Groups of terrified locals sat in a big block of humanity on the tarmac, with the UN workers surrounding them. Meanwhile, the militia were getting more and more worked up. He also wrote: For most of the day we negotiated over each group of local refugees. As I spoke with the sergeant, he nervously drew and re-holstered his pistol— and this sergeant was from the militia. He wrote: This worried me, both because it may have been a signal of his intent and because it definitely was a safety issue. The tension kept building. And then it turned out that amongst this group was Bishop Belo, who was a leader of the Catholic Church in East Timor and had been a trenchant critic of the Indonesian government. So Jim was then faced with this group of civilians, who also had this bishop in their midst. Now that we had moved some Timorese off the airport, the logjam was broken and the sergeant agreed that the rest could go in the C-130s. I felt I was finally making some progress, but as the militia commander and I were walking back towards the remaining group of Timorese, we noticed that among them was the religious leader of East Timor, the vehemently anti-Indonesian Bishop Carlos Belo, dressed in civilian clothes. Belo had been awarded the Nobel Peace Prize in 1996—with Jose Ramos-Horta, then the voice of his people overseas—for advocating non-violent resistance to Indonesian rule. Now here he was, sitting on the tarmac at Bacau surrounded by refugees. Early on, Belo had been threatened by the Dili militia in a pamphlet that read, 'For now your robe is white. But it will soon be covered in the colour of your own blood.' This was the situation Jim was facing on that tarmac. Conscious of how much danger Belo was in, I told the militia sergeant that the bishop should be allowed to go to Australia. Allowing such a prominent global figure to be killed would be unforgivable … I remember stumbling, in my fatigue, for an appropriate local translation for 'Nobel Peace Prize winner'. Then Jim describes how he dealt, on a very human and empathetic basis, with that local militia sergeant to effectively negotiate an outcome where Bishop Belo safely left that tarmac with all of those other civilians who were at risk—an absolutely outstanding outcome. Then he describes, at the last moment, when had just about successfully negotiated Bishop Belo's release and they were getting on the planes, the militia sergeant got the wobbles and all of a sudden wanted to drive a truck out to block the plane leaving. Again, Jim had to intercede and convince this militia sergeant that, no, that was not the right thing to do. It was too late; let them go. Mission accomplished. The second extract from Jim's book that we talked about last Thursday night was the eight million Iraqis—eight million Iraqis!—who voted on 30 January 2005 when they were first given the opportunity. That was eight million of them! We talked about how much that meant to Jim, as he outlines in his book. He was actually gifted, by the independent electoral commission of Iraq, the ninth ballot paper that was cast in that election. He treasured that as representing what that mission was all about, in terms of providing freedom and democracy to the people of Iraq. Lastly, Anne, I note Jim's comments when he was presented with the US Legion of Merit: 'The day after I returned from Germany in August 2005, Air Chief Marshal Angus Houston, on behalf of the US Secretary of Defence, presented me with the official medal for the US Legion of Merit. Anne was invited to the function. She's been with me forever, in a way that I never deserved, and I have often rewarded her with absence and worry.' Finally, if I can say to you, Anne, if I can say to the family: it was such a deep honour to attend the beautiful service for Jim at Duntroon. To the children: you did your dad so proud. There is probably no harder speech to give than the speech which you had to give on that day, but you did him so proud. You should really feel honoured by the contribution you made that day. Lastly, Anne, I have a card from Nev who also served at RAR. I promised him, after our meeting at the Gaythorne RSL, that I would deliver this to you personally. I will come and do that now. As the Father at the service said, we should reflect on being grateful, and I am so grateful—so grateful—that I had the honour and privilege to work with and be a colleague, be a mate, of your husband, your father, your grandfather and brother. Vale, Senator Jim Molan.