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peter charlton
Peter Charlton is The Courier-Mail's national affairs editor. He is a former associate editor and leader writer, and political editor in Canberra. He is also the author of State of Mind — Why Queensland is Different.
March to power

Street march protesters had the last laugh (or in Peter Beattie's case, the last grin).

Power cell . . . Amnesty International demonstrators in a symbolic "cell" in King George Square in October 1980, from left; Father Jim Soorley, Rosemary Kyburz (then Liberal MLA for Salisbury), Margaret Nulty, Philip Tahminjis, journalist Hugh Lunn, Jennifer Woodhouse and then Railway Station Officers Union state secretary Peter Beattie. Picture: Kim Streten

Below: Famous faces today . . .  Jim Soorley, approaching his last days as Lord Mayor of Brisbane; Rosemary Kyburz, author Hugh Lunn and Premier Peter Beattie.

"THE day of the political street march is over," premier Bjelke-Petersen proclaimed in September 1977.

"Anybody who holds a street march, spontaneous or otherwise, will know they are acting illegally. Don't bother to apply for a permit. You won't get one. That's government policy now."

Sixteen months and nearly 2000 arrests later, in the wake of an electoral setback for the National Party in the Sherwood by-election, Bjelke-Petersen quietly reversed that policy.

In the meantime, the premier and his police commissioner, the compliant and crooked Terrence Murray Lewis, combined to deny Queenslanders the right to protest in a peaceful assembly.

These times were marked by street battles, by opposition from the churches and even from The Courier-Mail, rather more conservative then than now.

The protesters included Peter Beattie who in 1971, as a young university student, had been whacked over the head by an over-zealous policeman during the Springbok tour. Another was a fiery young priest named James Soorley, later to swap clerical cloth for lord mayoral robes.

Recently Premier Beattie recalled the times. "I got worked over," he said. "It was a dark time in Queensland's history. As someone who was beaten up for his trouble, I am delighted that we now have a free and open position on peaceful protests."

He said he was proud to be involved in the demonstrations.

The subject of the protest didn't matter then – uranium mining, apartheid, even the street march ban itself – all were banned. For Bjelke-Petersen, it was the perfect law-and-order issue.

When it was dropped, quietly, it was because the Nationals realised they would have to modify their stance on such issues to win seats in Brisbane.

But the premier had another election winner, targeting the unions after strikes by power workers that left Queenslanders without power, hot and annoyed.

Electrical Trade Union members battled the then generating board, SEQEB, over plans to introduce private contractors. Cabinet ordered the sacking of the power workers under state of emergency provisions. On February 11, 1985, SEQEB sacked 1000 workers and said the government was handling the dispute.

Sir Joh Bjelke-Petersen made no secret of his objective. He was, he said, "out to get the unions".

Finally the unions gave in, the state of emergency was lifted early in March and Bjelke-Petersen had won. But at enormous cost: one contemporary estimate suggested total losses had been over $100 million.

                                               
   
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