THE CHIFLEY DEAL

The back story of developing the plans for Australia to begin making, an Australian car, in Australia.

The Secondary Industries Commission had been set up by the Curtin Labour Government to investigate methods of ensuring a smooth transition of war industries to a peace-time basis. It hadn't taken many sittings of the commission for its members to realize how important was the task they had tackled. And it did not surprise me that they had come very early to realise that car manufacture held the key to post-war economic stability.

Jensen was a close personal friend of Ben Chif!ey. He was a permanent civil servant, who had spent most of his life in Government munitions work. I had formed a great personal respect for him ever since I had accepted the appointment as Director of Ordnance Production. But I had given him no hint that I had anticipated the time would come when he, or another Government representative, would ask me about car manufacture.

I let him talk. He said there were many problems that had to be licked if Australia was to avoid industrial and economic troubles in the changeover from war to peacetime manufacture. I nodded agreement. Then Jensen said, “One of the first things I want to see is our own Australian car. Do you think General Motors would take it on?”

I said, “I think GM might do it, J.K.” But, I warned, they would have to be convinced that there was a reasonable profit in it before they would go ahead. Two weeks later, in Canberra, I had a conversation with Ben Chifley, then Minister for Postwar Reconstruction. He had called me in to get my views on the type of reparations Australia should demand from Germany and Japan when the war formally ended. “In my view, knowhow, technique and the use of patents-and some key personnel, “I said. “We could ask, instead, for millions of pounds, but right now I think brains are more important to us than bullion and, anyhow, reparations payments never seem to get paid.”

“I think you’re damn well right,” said Chifley, in his forthright way. Our little talk that afternoon led directly to the formation of an organisation known as ESTEA-Employment of Scientific and Technical Enemy Aliens. This was a committee, of which I was a member, to bring out German technical specialists to Australia. Our work won several highly skilled German and other European exenemies for Australia after the war.

Then ‘Chif’ got down to the second reason for his summons to me. “What about this car business?” he asked. “I know we must make cars ourselves, and I don't think these people out here in the car game will do it. They’re foreign: they’re not us; they represent overseas interests. Australia needs a car of her own. We must have it.”

He paused, then jabbed the end of his pipe in my direction and said, “I think you’re the bloke who can get it for us.”

“Maybe,” I said. “But I work for General Motors.”

“I'm aware of that,” said Chifley, “and I want to know what's the first step we should take.”

“We really should be taking it now,” I replied. “I’ve believed for years, as you know, that Australia should, and eventually will, produce its own car. But the first thing to do is to get rid of the Motor Vehicle Agreement Act.”

“The Motor Vehicle Agreement Act? What are you talking about?” Chifley asked. Apparently he didn't know, or had forgotten, the Act brought in by the Menzies Government in June 1940, which gave the sole rights on car manufacture to one firm: Australian Consolidated Industries. While the Act was in force, no one but W.J.Smith and his A.C.l. could legally make a car in Australia.

“Oh, surely you can’t be right?” Chifley said, almost stunned with surprise.

“I know I’m right, Mr. Chifley,” I replied. “Call for the Act and we can check it.” Chifley was already reaching for a buzzer. “That's just what I'm doing now,” he said. His private secretary went hurrying off to get a copy of the Act. When it came, Chifley sat down, grim-faced, and read it through. There it was, an Act of Federal Parliament giving the sole manufacturing rights for cars to A.C.l. “Well,” said Chifley. “We’ll have to wipe this. What’ll Gunboat Smith take to let us drop it, without a fuss? Fifty thousand? A hundred thousand? Anyhow, Hartnett, don't worry. We’ll get this legislation repealed.” We got back to talking car production. I told him, “General Motors pays me and it’s my duty to try my hardest to persuade them to make a car in Australia. I’m convinced that the car will be made here somehow.”

“I’ll be interested to hear what they say, Hartnett,” Chifley said, “but I have doubts that they’ll agree to it.”

Legislation to repeal the Act became law on 14 May, 1945. It removed the legal barrier to the making of an Australian car.

To be continued…