Leader of the Pack

It'

s a delicious bargain. Vote for John Howard - and let him do the worrying. As long as Australians stick together, work hard and observe the law, they can trust his government to make the big calls. That's the deal. Plus, Howard won't tell them how to live or what to think. With fluxion abroad and fitful anxiety at home, millions of citizens sleep more easily at night because they believe their Prime Minister is in control. All rock, no roll. Others curse his name as soon as they hear the morning news. Mentally or physically in exile, they have opted out of the sullen landmass they call "Howard's Australia." Yet in moments of fear, clarity and decision, Australians have come to know in their bones the country's 25th Prime Minister. His voice, temper, will, carriage, wounds and triumphs are part of the nation's shared experience. There are no surprises left, it would seem, in the 66-year-old leader - or in a government that came to office with an emphatic general-election victory on March 2, 1996.

In its early days, the ardent Liberal-National coalition that replaced 13 years of reformist Labor rule was raw and clumsy. Promises were broken or brazenly reclassified. The ministerial departure lounge attracted frequent flee-ers. But its fat parliamentary majority meant the Howard government did not lack the appetite for transformation or a fight. Inheriting a fiscal mess, the new government's fixers appeared to relish the task of taking money away from universities, welfare recipients and the Australian Broadcasting Corporation. Taxpayers' assets were passed on for sale to merchant bankers, government debt was shredded, and a shareholder democracy was born. When Workplace Relations Minister Peter Reith launched an assault on the waterfront unions, there was a certain bloodlust. In pursuing a new tax system, with its 10% goods and services tax, a diligent and obstinate Treasurer Peter Costello lost his youth and much of his spark. Howard's way may have been austere and divisive, especially for someone who was governing "for all of us," but it was not indiscriminate.

He'd won Australians' votes first - and then, in 1998, another chance to see parts of his program through - but Howard found it would not be so easy to win their affection or trust. After more than 25 years in politics, he had by habit found comfort in being right. It had garnered him respect. Being popular, however, was novel - and fleeting. By early 2001, he was back in familiar territory. With an election due before the end of the year, his government was losing altitude. Good Budget management had given Howard the populist means to target specific groups, such as retirees, farmers and property investors. Money can't buy you love, but it can buy you extra time.

A decade of economic growth, asset-price inflation and financial engineering had altered many of the rules of class-based politics. Comrades now had share portfolios; union delegates were taking on debt. The latest struggle was taking place every Saturday in the nation's front yards to the rhythms of fervent auctioneers; in the distant, dusty bush, illegal immigrants were being detained. Howard's relatively narrow agenda of social cohesion, free enterprise and wealth accumulation was now a mass movement. And when the U.S. was attacked by terrorists and further calamity threatened, Howard became sterner and more somber - someone who would see the challenge through. His moment arrived. Instinctively, he did not try to charm. Polling wasn't necessary for him to understand where Middle Australia had come to rest. He was one of us.