Mr SHORTEN (Maribyrnong—Leader of the Opposition) (14:09): I begin by welcoming everyone to whom this motion means the most, particularly Harold Holt's son, Sam, and his wife, Xenia; his son, Robert; and Tony Eggleton, his long-serving press secretary and confidant. And, of course, welcome back to the Hon. Peter Costello. I do hope that any sadness that you feel is matched by the pride in the fact that the Parliament of Australia is pausing to honour the man that you loved. The 17th December 1967 was the first proper day of Harold Holt's summer holiday. He was in the garden of the Portsea house that he loved so much, with his family, whom he loved most of all. Holding hands with his granddaughter, 3-year-old Sophie, he said to his son, Nicholas: 'I've made a new friend. This looks like a great Christmas.' By the afternoon, Nicholas was in a chopper—donated to the search effort by Reg Ansett—hovering over the churning waters off Cheviot Beach. Australia's 17th Prime Minister would never be seen again. In preparing these remarks, I went back to look at the Hansard from 12 March 1968. On that day, in the chamber down the hill, the government and opposition came together to mourn a man who'd spent 32 of his 59 years as a member of parliament. And, as Labor people inevitably do, I sought out the gospel according to Gough. Holt and Whitlam had squared off as deputy leaders, as managers of parliamentary business and then as Prime Minister and Opposition Leader. With the knowledge of long association and the weight of real respect, Whitlam said of Holt: He was tolerant, humane and broadminded. His suavity of manner was no pose. It was the outward reflection of a truly civilised human being. These are fine words, I think, from a fierce adversary. They're a measure of Holt's qualities, and perhaps also a glimpse of a gentler age. Harold Holt's time in public life is perhaps unfairly remembered more for its tragic end rather than its worthy achievements. The Prime Minister has just described many of them: greater independence in monetary policy; the dismantling of White Australia's foundations; a new priority for South-East Asia and regional diplomacy; and a national moving on from the Menzies era of Britain, bootstraps, and the fading glory of Empire. He was also a breath of fresh air to the media, as Tony Eggleton knows. Holt virtually created the practice of regular doorsteps with the Press Gallery—perhaps a mixed blessing for all of us! But of course there were the memorable lines—perhaps most notably on the lawns of the White House, when he added his old friend Lyndon Johnson's campaign slogan to his prepared remarks. 'All the way with LBJ,' became shorthand for Australia's plunge into the jungle-dark of the Vietnam War. But I think that without doubt, the 1967 referendum stands as Harold Holt's tallest monument. As Prime Minister, he asked the country to 'Vote Yes for Aborigines'. He actively and passionately campaigned to strike from our Constitution the discrimination which meant that Aboriginal people could fight and die for our nation and yet not be counted in the census. Prime Minister Holt put this overdue question of constitutional change and historical truth to the Australian people, and he did not provide one single cent of funding for the case against. No caveats, no squeamish attempt to minimise the meaning: just an act of courage and decency that reflects well on his Liberal Party and that makes us all reflect on parliament's faltering steps on the road to recognition now. It was an act that also makes us wonder about the counterfactual: what if he had lived longer? Imagine if Holt and his new breed of moderates had steered the government away from the tail-end torpor of the Menzian era? Australian history, coalition history and, indeed, Labor Party history might have been very different. Of course, he could have also been granted the joy of more days at Portsea, surrounded by the family he adored. Harold Holt's final words to the parliament come from the 1967 valedictories. He said in his last speech to the parliament: Whatever fluctuations may occur in our political fortunes, we are all of us proud to have earned from those who sent us here the privilege of representing them … History enlarges the meaning of these words. The context of what would follow transforms them. But I think that half a century later there is an abiding truth for all who serve here about the deep honour that we have to be members of this place. And I think it is a truth about Harold Holt, who dedicated himself to serving the parliament and the people of Australia. Fifty years on, that alone is a noble thing to be remembered for. I thank the House.