Sir Joh Bjelke-Petersen arrives at the National Economic Summit in Canberra on 12 April 1983. Credit:David Bartho These groups include the following: 1. Those who look for simple solutions to complex problems. People of middle age or above have in the past 30 years passed through what often appears to be a bewildering series of changes, in which lifestyles, work, family structures, transport, social mobility, moral standards, religion, entertainment, and cultural and racial mixture have altered almost beyond recognition. Many feel confused, threatened or alienated by the complexity of modern urban life, and recall (not always accurately) memories of the robust simplicity and security of their childhood. They yearn for simple solutions for complex problems, an assurance that some trusted father (grandfather?)figure knows best, understands their anxieties and can express the words and slogans that can reassure them. Sir Joh with TV personality Jacki MacDonald Credit:Staff photographer

Sir Joh meets these needs with his use of simple, homely illustrations and a constant repetition of a very few baldly stated policies (no detail supplied): "lower tax", "smaller government" and "crush union power." He insists that adopting these maxims will return Australia to a "golden age"identified with some unspecified period in the past, not anticipating the needs or shape of the future. The aged, with justification, look to Joh with some pride as a survivor from an earlier period, still active in his eighth decade, who has to be taken seriously and has not been pushed aside by his juniors. The Reagan Presidency in the US had a similar appeal. Sir Joh also has a great appeal to people with local (or tribal) loyalties, who identify with rural, traditional, monocultural society, and to those whose anxieties can be manipulated by arousing fears. Rational factors are often less important than the irrational, a factor widely recognised and exploited, for example in mass advertising and pop music, both powerful influences for the irrational and the subliminal. Sir Joh tells the timid that their interests are threatened by Canberra and the dominant national role of Sydney and Melbourne, or Aborigines, or trade unionists, or communists.

Sir Joh's promotion of his family, Senator Lady Bjelke-Petersen in the Senate and John Bjelke-Petersen proposed as a potential MHR, may be quite popular: after all the family is the basic unit of society and primogeniture does not only apply in family business or property. (There are surprisingly large numbers of politicians at present with fathers or close relatives in the business.) 2. Those who are apprehensive about the future. Many people, especially the unskilled or poorly educated, are apprehensive and defensive about contemplating the future and with some justice. They have been inadequately prepared and do not understand the reasons for our disappointing performance, for example, in overseas trade and are happy to accept the identification of scapegoats. Bjelke-Petersen at a press conference at Kingsford Smith Airport in Sydney on 6 May 1973 Credit:Keith Byron The world has changed, but Australia has not. As David Clark observed (Financial Review, February 23): "To play on the most despicable characteristics of the Australian people - our insularity, our xenophobia, our selfishness, our desire for simplistic solutions to our problems", as Sir Joh does and Jack Lang did in an earlier period of crisis, would actually destroy our capacity to change. The appropriate responses for the challenges of the 21st century will not be found by returning to the mindset of the 1950s.

3. The inarticulate. Sir Joh's rambling, anecdotal style, his vagueness on detail, the confusion of his syntax and inability to finish sentences may have a strong appeal to people who find difficulty with the language and the complexities of modern life. His language may not be evidence of weakness, but an actual source of strength. Perhaps the most telling phrase in Sir Joh's interview repertoire is "Don't you worry about that ... ". People inside the political mainstream - politicians, journalists, party activists - see his reply as an evasion: "I don't know the answer to your question and I don't want to be trapped on detail". But to people remote from political styles, who find the world baffling or threatening, and make no claim to verbal facility, Sir Joh's "Don't you worry about that" may be an assurance that they are happy to accept: benevolent paternalism will take care of everything and they have no need to understand complexities. When he says "I know how to handle that, but I'm not telling you", Sir Joh may invoke nostalgic memories of childhood ("I've got a secret, but I won't tell"). Another of Sir Joh's favourite stock phrases is: "We'll look at that later". Procrastination may be welcomed by people who are uneasy about facing up to issues they don't understand. Sir Joh's language is more Delphic than Biblical. Perhaps the closest model is Mr Chance the gardener, memorably portrayed by Peter Sellers in the film Being There (1979), based on Jerzy Kosinski's novel of the same name. A childlike inarticulate man creates the impression that his vague, parabolic language is actually profound and he begins to wield significant power. Joh-speak - "You know the old bumblebee. He's not supposed to be able to fly, but he still flies" - is very like Mr Chance's utterances.

The verbal fluency of Bob Hawke, Paul Keating - or Ian Sinclair - may be extremely alienating to the inarticulate. Sir Joh is not noted for logic or consistency. For example, he talks "dry" economics, but is interventionist and high taxing in practice. However this inconsistency may faithfully reflect his populist base as well. The issues of big government, and the reasons for overseas debt (a.k.a. foreign investment) have been fudged beyond comprehension. His assertions are only occasionally specific, rarely detailed and never statistical. He refuses to engage in direct debate: it is irrelevant to his style. Facts and evidence are surplus to requirements. It is futile to attempt exposing the falsity of his claims. Truth is replaced by the cult of the true believer. 4. Christian fundamentalists. These are mostly anxious conservatives who are distressed by changes in society and the apparent decline in traditional values. They see the world as an extension of their own town or suburb, and are threatened by cultural and racial divergence. They see the Bible - read selectively - as an infallible guide, and reject liberalism, humanism, pluralism, and a scientific or critical understanding of the world. They support "creationism" as a school subject. They have more sympathy for the "parable of the talents" than for Jesus driving out the money changers, or his words about the "eye of the needle". Jesus is seen as an honorary white, perhaps a small businessman. The concept of Jesus as a radical or reformer is totally ignored rather than specifically rejected. Thus, Christian fundamentalists feel estranged from the World Council of Churches, the Catholic Commission on Peace and Justice, campaigners for racial harmony or for world peace. They are closer to the world of Oral Roberts and Pat Robertson than to Mother Teresa.

They also reflect conservative family values - opposition to easy divorce, abortion, "women's lib", homosexual law reform, and support and respect for the aged, especially within the home, rejecting the State's welfare apparatus Bjelke-Petersen on stage in Melbourne at the launch of the Queensland Holiday Fair in February 1981 Credit:Staff photographer 5. The lazy and ill-informed. People who are comfortable with what they are and where they are now, often reject any knowledge and experience that disturbs this comfort (for example about aboriginal land rights or the political reality of South Africa). Prejudice is not necessarily an active phenomenon, it may just be doing what comes naturally. Being lazily ill-informed reinforces prejudice. Knowing involves finding out, making an effort, reading books, meeting new people, seeking new experiences. Sir Joh's appeal is essentially stroking, comforting, reassuring. Prejudice is so comfortable. "So you don't know anything about those jolly Aborigines? Well, why should you? Don't you worry about that. But you wouldn't want some blackfeller claiming your land, would you? Or marrying your daughter? You leave it all to me. You just stay as you are. Have another pumpkin scone."

He tells his constituency exactly what they want to hear: they are never threatened. Indeed, their ignorance may be exalted as righteousness. If people have never set foot out of Queensland, it is not hard to persuade them of its unique merits. It follows that outsiders, especially journalists or politicians from the south, who challenge Queensland's performance in public service growth, employment, education and State taxes are attacked as negative, ill-disposed and discourteous. Trying to dispel an illusion is like trying ot kill Santa Claus. 6. The "white shoe brigade". Shrewd practitioners of big "D" development, who see Sir Joh as a useful instrument for obtaining their objectives, are neither lazy nor ill-informed. To them only money matters. They cannot conceive that values could be expressed other than in dollars: trees are lumber, rivers only have potential for generating electricity. They are contemptuous of environmental constraints or of any concept of preserving assets for long-term, passive employment. Sir Joh is the patron saint of the "Let 'er rip" school of development. There is an apparent and unresolved inconsistency between the materialism of the "white shoe brigade" and their camp followers and Sir Joh's religious constituency - but this is one barbed wire fence he has no difficulty in straddling.

7. Extremists in small business. The enormous small business sector, collectively Australia's largest employer, includes an extreme Poujardist element, as Max Walsh has also observed, who are preoccupied with immediate self-interest. They would rather secure the deckchair concession on the Titanic than encourage courses in map reading, swimming and lifeboat drill. The Poujardists are totally preoccupied with today's problems, take no care for the morrow and vociferously reject the long view. These people, feeling a great sense of grievance over the fringe benefits tax and capital gains, flock to the Joh banner: they must be appealed to by using reason and evidence, pointing out it is essential to strengthen the economy in the medium and long term, even if there is temporary pain today. 8. The Alf Garnett vote. This sector is hostile to higher education and sceptical to middle-class issues such as conservation, which - in the short term - appears to threaten jobs. Indeed the strong influence of simple issues pressure groups may have had a significant influence in weakening the authority of government. (They are fundamentalists, too.) Because of Sir Joh's appeal to the lowest common denominator, evidence of sophistication or academic capacity is derided. (It is a distinctly adverse factor in the Queensland Cabinet as one member will confirm with feeling.) An appeal to soft racism carries some weight here, too.

9. People who don't like politics. Politics has never been a popular profession in Australia, and although the vast majority of Australians have voted for established parties (so far), only a tiny minority actually join them and take a direct part in the political process. In a classic example of the pot calling the kettle black, Sir Joh castigates our political structures as inadequate, and politicians as weak, self-serving and venal. He insists that he is not a politician himself. This is potentially very inflammatory, with its strongest impact on those with the least understanding. 10. The smaller government push. Those who claim Australia is"over-governed" are often the strongest supporters of the current system of State and local government. The inconsistency is both obvious and unexamined. Australia has one national government, six state governments, 14 houses of parliament, and 836 local government authorities. There are 440,000 Commonwealth employees (including defence forces), and 1,150,000 state employees, as well as 157,000 local government employees. It is extraordinary that the cry for smaller government is directed almost entirely at reductions in Canberra.