Hockey: Not Your Average Joe by Madonna King Read Free Book Online Page A

briefed by NSW Institute of Technology communications student Steve Lewis: ‘Your magic words are that you are going to tell Susan Ryan [federal education minister] what you think.’ Joe wasn’t fully across what was about to happen, but things were moving fast. As Lewis had advised, Joe finished his brief speech, declaring to the crowd of thousands: ‘I’m going to tell Susan Ryan what I think!’
    As at the starter’s pistol in a running race, the students surged out the doors of Town Hall towards the Department of Education offices. That’s where the script ended. As the students poured into the building, Joe joined them. He took the packed lift to a floor where someone said they should alight, ready for a fight. But when the doors opened, it was obvious they’d misjudged their move. Behind a counter a small group of women were packing up for the day. They were responsible for administering Austudy payments, and were startled by the rowdy group cramming to fit in the office. Susan Ryan, meanwhile, was almost 300 kilometres away in her Canberra office, watching the drama unfold on television.
    Joe had worked up a sweat. The chants of ‘no fees’ and ‘bye-bye Susie’ rang out, egged on by the dozens of cameras capturing every move. Joe had made it to the 20th floor of the Sydney Plaza building, which housed the Australian Government Department of Education’s Sydney headquarters. More than 700 students had stormed the building, surging onto the 11th, 13th, 17th and 20th floors. Outside, Goulburn Street was closed between Pitt and George streets. But that didn’t stop the helicopter Joe could see out the window monitoring every move, or the police dogs on the ground, or even the SWAT teams that were pouring into the building. Joe had been told police were taking off their name badges, ready to belt students into submission. The television journalists were demanding to know what would happen next. They were planning to cross to their news desks to describe the protest.
    ‘We didn’t have a plan,’ Joe says. He picked up a phone and dialled Parliament House, asking to be put through to the education minister. The cameras were rolling. ‘Is Susan Ryan there?’ he demanded. ‘This is Joe Hockey.’ A bank of cameras focused closely on Sydney University SRC’s 59th president, ready to capture his next move and deliver it to lounge rooms across the country. Joe was put on hold. It couldn’t end like this; he knew Susan Ryan would not come to the phone, lured by student thugs wanting their two minutes on television. So he pretended she was on the phone and gave her a dose of what he was thinking. The moment was captured, portraying Joe dressing down the federal education minister, without anyone knowing he was on hold, listening to the English folk song ‘Greensleeves’.
    Eventually the news crews packed up. Mostly, the students were invited to leave, without charge. But some stuck to their guns and it turned ugly. Antony Sachs, a 22-year-old University of NSW student who later went on to become Labor stalwart Anthony Albanese’s advisor, was caught in a lift with police. ‘At some point we agreed to leave and most people left by the stairwell. I was grabbed by a cop and there were a few of us in a lift. I was manhandled, had my arms held behind my back and shoved against the wall of the lift.’ In searing pain, Sachs was led to a waiting ambulance, finding out later he had dislocated his shoulder. Paddy wagons filled with other students. Some of them were taken around the corner by police, and let go. Others were taken to the Sydney Police Centre at Surry Hills to be charged under federal law with trespass and under state laws of resisting arrest. Several were charged with assault.
    The next day, Joe had his first interview with John Laws on his morning radio show. Joe Hockey, SRC president, was being talked about. But the interview didn’t start well, with Laws focusing on ratbag students. Joe had been