Julia Gillard: politics, misogyny and the next generation

Not too many political autobiographies feature the word "bastard" on the first page, but then Julia Gillard's My Story is pretty straight-talking.

Now that she's out of politics, and updating her autobiography, the Welsh-born former prime minister of Australia feels free to speak about the gender-based criticism that she and her partner, Tim Mathieson – the premier's "first bloke" – faced during her three years in office.

Imagine a radio presenter claiming that the father of the recently bereaved prime minister had died of shame. That was Gillard’s lowest moment in politics, she says; she frantically called her sister, asking her to scramble to their ageing mother’s home before news of the insult – by a Sydney shock jock called Alan Jones – broke.

Another host asked Gillard on air if her partner was gay. “I was the first woman. Tim and I aren’t married. He’s a hairdresser,” she says. The presenter, a Perth broadcaster named Howard Sattler, “just put all that together to engage in this stupidity”, which left Gillard stunned. She does not believe that a male politician with a female partner would have been treated the same way.

An opponent accused Gillard, Australia's first woman prime minister, of being "deliberately barren". Then there was the dinner menu that regurgitated slurs previously directed at Hillary Clinton, in the US, by advertising "Julia Gillard Kentucky Fried Quail – Small Breasts, Huge Thighs & A Big Red Box". That was at a dinner to raise funds for political opponents of Gillard's Australian Labor Party.

Gillard’s cool anger at these “obnoxious, disgraceful” incidents has not gone away. “Apart from the personal sense of indignation for me there was a broader sense about what this means for the way in which nations like my own, but nations more broadly, are treating women in leadership.”

Clinton, who wrote in her autobiography Hard Choices about the "unfortunate reality that women in public life still face an unfair double standard", believes Gillard faced "outrageous sexism, which shouldn't be tolerated in any country".

Gillard is too much of a patriot to ascribe any blame to Australian culture, however, putting the pattern down to a general sense of “unresolved issues” about women and leadership “in our nations”.

She is probably best known outside Australia for taking a stand against sexism in a parliamentary speech directed at Tony Abbott, who was then leader of the Liberal opposition and is now prime minister.

Gillard’s denouncement of her greatest political rival (outside her own party, at least) went viral. Her impassioned cry that she would “not be lectured on sexism and misogyny by this man” struck a chord with many women, both inside and outside politics.

Ultimately, the speech did not save her political career. Not too long afterwards she was ousted from the leadership of her party, which went on to lose the next election. “I don’t think in the contest for votes it did me any good, but it wasn’t about that,” she says. “Long term, I think it’s really not about me, but it’s stood for a number of women as something that’s inspired them, and I do feel proud about that.”

£10 Poms

Gillard has no “original memories” of Wales, having migrated with her family in 1966, when she was four. The Gillards were £10 Poms, as British migrants with government-subsidised travel to Australia were dubbed.

Her late father, John, left school at 14, despite qualifying for a scholarship, because his family needed him to earn money. In Australia he worked his way up to become a psychiatric nurse. Gillard’s mother, Moira, was a cook in a Salvation Army-run care home for women.

The Gillards put a huge emphasis on the importance of education for their daughters, Alison and Julia, whom they taught to read at home before they started school.

Gillard now chairs the Global Partnership for Education, which aims to help children in developing countries access high-quality education, and is a fellow of the Center for Universal Education at the Brookings Institution, in Washington DC.

She also writes for the Guardian newspaper, and was pleased to see it enter Australia's "incredibly concentrated" media market. She says that, in the insular world of Canberra, seat of the federal government, some Australian journalists played partisan roles not only in contests between political parties but also in her tussles with Kevin Rudd, who was both her predecessor and her successor as leader of the Australian Labor Party.

“At the very senior levels the press gallery in Canberra has been a curiously unchanging beast, given how much has changed in the media industry,” she says. She also observes that the “warp speed” of contemporary political journalism can mean that even the best reporters find themselves drawn to the convenience of churning out “thin” stories about leadership crises.

Gillard believes Australia will follow Ireland’s example and introduce same-sex marriage, although she doesn’t know when. As a self-proclaimed 1970s feminist she has been a little surprised by the gay community’s embrace of such a traditional concept.

She also says not to take Grahame Morris’s comments seriously. The Liberal adviser, a former chief of staff for the former prime minister John Howard, said in the aftermath of Ireland’s referendum vote that Australia need not follow the example of “people who can’t grow potatoes”.

"The mainstream reaction in Australia to what people in Ireland did was that it was interesting, and people watched the enthusiasm and the response to the referendum," she says. "So I think it impacted into the same-sex marriage debate, and people were thinking about Ireland as a progressive place that had made a big decision, not silliness about potatoes."

Gillard says that the many Irish people who have moved to Australia in recent years were “received very warmly”, diplomatically declining to be drawn on occasional reports to the contrary about some younger backpackers.

How did she react to Abbott’s St Patrick’s Day video message last March, which Taoiseach Enda Kenny criticised for its patronising tone? A smiling Gillard says, “I suspect if Mr Abbott was here now he would concede it wasn’t his finest hour.”

Dead time

Gillard is not vain, so as prime minister she was frustrated by the amount of “dead time” she was forced to devote to her appearance. She has developed a wry take on the necessity latterly. “It’s very easy for a male prime minister to get this right. You get a decent suit. If you don’t know what a decent suit is someone can give you advice about that. Put on a shirt and a tie. Job done.

“Then, if you’re going to a formal event, put on black tie. Job done. If you’re going to regional Australia there is a well-known uniform: you wear the chinos, the blue blazer and the open-necked shirt. Job done.

“There’s no kind of equivalent uniform that women get the benefit of, so clothing choices not only attract a lot of attention but there is kind of an assumption that you can tell something about a woman’s character based on what she’s wearing.”

Gillard was concerned that some young women, who had observed the relentless scrutiny she came under, might turn away from politics. She is keen not to discourage potential female leaders of the future from pursuing their ambitions.

“While there are issues about gender, and some things to think through, the absolute honour and delight of getting the opportunity to change things for your nation, and to make a contribution to the future of our world as a national leader, absolutely outweighs any of the negativity.

“I’d do it again tomorrow in a heartbeat, even if I knew every day was going to roll out the way it rolled out. And I would advise young women who’ve got a sense of purpose, who know why they want to get in there and do it, to absolutely do it.”

The updated edition of My Story, published on July 1st by Vintage Australia, will be available in Irish bookshops later this year