Think Trump was rough on John Lyons? You never met Bob Hawke on a bad day

What Donald Trump is doing to mangle free speech and the democratic process in the United States should surprise nobody who is awake in Australia. It’s been happening here for decades.

Trump is creating an environment where public policy and regulatory governance of media companies can be used as a weapon and perceived critics are dumped, apparently even for telling jokes.

But what the president is doing in America has at some level long been the habit of Australian state and federal politicians. And few have called them out.

Like Trump, Australian politicians have black-banned and publicly berated unfriendly reporters and commentators. They have attempted to have their critics sacked. They have used policies as a weapon of intimidation.

There’s no question Trump’s attack on comedian Jimmy Kimmel and subsequent comments that others will be next threatens free speech and the role of the media in a healthy democracy. But even his attempt to humiliate and intimidate ABC journalist John Lyons during a press conference on the White House lawns evoked memories of at least two Australian prime ministers who could eviscerate a questioner with a sentence.

Of the main parties, Labor has the champion haters. In 1986, the Hawke government threw the media into chaos when it changed ownership laws at least in part to silence a critic – The Herald, which at the time was part of the HWT group. That change handed a perceived “mate”, Rupert Murdoch, 70 per cent of newspaper circulation in Australia.

I was told that in those heated days, one minister took copies of an editorial I had written as editor of The Herald into cabinet to prove the paper deserved to be dealt with. The perception within Labor at the time was that Murdoch and News Corp would be more friendly. How does that look now? Murdoch is a businessman first and last, and nobody’s mate.

A few years later on radio, I interviewed one of the Labor men who had been instrumental in that carnage. Seconds before we went to air, he told me to watch myself, saying something like, “I fixed you up at The Herald, and I’ll do it again here.” Later, the same politician called the station’s managers and demanded I be sacked over another matter. I wasn’t.

This was far from being a one-off. There was a string of similar encounters I vividly remember, where I was punished by politicians from both sides of politics and refused interviews because they didn’t like my line of questioning. Though some names are omitted, believe me, you know them.

Bob Hawke put me in the freezer for years when he was PM. He threw defamation writs around freely and was famous for savaging journalists publicly if he objected to their questions. When he did finally relent, and I got the chance to ask him why he had blacklisted me, his reply was: “I am not in the business of gazing into your navel.” Classic Hawke.

Other black bans included those from Paul Keating, Scott Morrison, Julie Bishop, Julia Gillard, Bill Shorten, Daniel Andrews – and his entire cabinet. Another prime minister called me to their office to tell me the only way their ban would be lifted were if I behaved myself. It was like a “debate” with a petulant child.

Of course, politicians are entitled to speak with whom they like. But it was a strategy either to avoid a line of questioning or attempt to intimidate a critic. And it was never subtle.

Morrison was upset because I questioned the immigration figures in his budget when he was treasurer, and became unavailable. Bishop made a fool of herself during an election campaign by not understanding the superannuation policies, so I was banned. Shorten thought I was too dangerous, even though he had trusted me for years. He banned me for his entire period as leader.

As premier, Jeff Kennett had a reputation as a super bully, but at least it was upfront, usually in public, and finished with “have a nice day”. Compared with Andrews, who could hold seminars on political bullying, he was gentle.

During his tenure as premier, Andrews was accused of going as far as checking the mobile phones of cabinet members to see who was leaking. His strategy worked, illustrated by how many in the media and Labor didn’t manage to discover his failings until after he left.

This is not to whinge. There will always be – and should always be – a combative relationship between the media and politicians. Media owners and journalists must be accountable.

For many, it is a tough call to decide who to distrust more: politicians such as Trump, or a media that at times is itself manipulative and dishonest.

The point is not that commercial and personal pressure is applied; it has always been, and will be again. Governments in particular are huge advertisers. That carries financial power.

Politicians on both sides will always try to intimidate or neuter or con the media. In Australia, one politician called an editor and said that if the paper didn’t toe the line, they could forget any hope of defamation law reforms. In the US, Meta chief Mark Zuckerberg said that when the Democrats were in power, government officials would frequently ring his people and “scream and curse”, demanding to have material removed.

The swirl of self-righteousness around Donald Trump is well-meaning, but at times naive.

What matters now is not only that the president wants to make unfavourable stories about himself “illegal”, but how proprietors and journalists react to such acts of thuggery. Even in this country.

Neil Mitchell is host of the podcast Neil Mitchell Asks Why? He is a former 3AW radio host, and was previously the editor of The Herald and news executive for The Age.

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