Every year since Chifley first uttered his “Light on the Hill” speech, the strength and motivation of those words propelled our labour movement.
It reminds us never to lose focus on the need to improve the lives of everyday Australians.
Did Ben Chifley know that on that day in 1949, his remarks to a NSW Party conference would take on such meaning?
From a few paragraphs, great sentiment endured. Over the years, forming a kind of philosophical sinew.
The words still mean something for Labor folk today, quote:
‘If the movement can make someone more comfortable, give to some father or mother a greater feeling of security for their children, a feeling that if a depression comes there will be work, that the government is striving its hardest to do its best, then the Labor movement will be completely justified.’
Once expressed, a vision established. A standard to guide, a test we’re measured by, a sharp focus maintained on the people who we work hard for.
And by any count, Ben Chifley worked hard and worked himself ragged.
While Prime Minister, he was also Treasurer.
And on top of that, held on to an alderman’s position with Abercrombie Shire Council, trekking back from Canberra for their regular meetings.
Hard work or not, Chifley knew how thin the line could be.
Between someone born with all the wit and grit in the world, determined to make something of themselves, and the bad luck or circumstance that could hold them back.
Sickness. Work injuries. Unemployment. Unable to feed your family.
This is why for Chifley, social cohesion and economic prosperity were one and the same.
It’s the test he’s set for Labor governments since.
Us of Labor stock bear heavy expectation: we know we’ve accomplished nothing if ordinary Australians feel like nothing’s changed. It creates a responsibility in us all.
If we can give Australian families more security, comfort that the future holds great promise, then we will have spent our time well.
He showed us that we’re enriched by what makes us different, not diminished by it.
Sometimes people mistake our commitment to unity — to solidarity in decision making — for intolerance of difference.
In an age of partisan politics and watching echo chambers in the palms of our hands, people want to see their own values mirrored back to them.
Too often these days people mistake politics as being about the right to speak when what makes us greater is our capacity to listen.
I have friends in this place with vastly different backgrounds and different values, but the same motivation: to make a difference.