The Tortoise and the Hare

A f

riend traveling back to Sydney along the Hume Highway several months ago reckons she saw Labor leader Mark Latham driving on the city's outskirts; the man appeared to be in deep thought as he passed her vehicle. He remained in the overtaking lane, declining to move into the vacant left lane, as he drove out of sight. Typical, she thought: the maverick, disregarding the rules. She wasn't 100% sure it was Latham, although it sounds plausible. But until Latham outs himself over a breach of the motorists' code, I'm inclined to think it was someone else, another urban-fringe myth. Besides, why would a man who could be Australia's next Prime Minister be driving? Isn't he entitled to a Commonwealth car and driver? Where was his campaign bus, the Opportunity Express?

Since becoming his party's leader last Dec-ember, Latham has not only been a man in a hurry, but one seemingly in control of his destiny. He has set the agenda and nudged conservative P.M. John Howard out of his comfort zone; surprisingly, Latham, 43, has regularly managed to trump the crafty incumbent in basic politics. With scant policy detail, Latham's positive slogan of a "new politics" is reaching voters. Al-though lampooned by his opponents, Latham is best known for his views about reading to children to improve literacy and banning television junk-food advertising to counter childhood obesity. For many voters, especially suburban mums, his concerns are similar to their own: a parent of two young boys, worried about their education and health.

But there are many aspects to Latham's emerging public image. He promised to curtail his loose tongue and aggressive parliamentary manner. So far, he has been disciplined. Given his dramatic rise, journalists are seeking to fill out his back story. After a slush of rumors about his private life, and claims of physical violence, Latham held an Oprah-style press conference to defend his character. A safe player would have issued a denial and held his nerve; Latham turned the episode into hyper-reality TV. "There were things that you just wouldn't believe," Latham told reporters about his first marriage, almost teasing them to ask, "Like what?" Somehow, he managed to kill inquiry, sensing that even in today's confessional culture, Australians instinctively know when they're being fed Too Much Information.

Latham sees himself as an Australian everyman; a working fellow who likes sharing jokes with his mates. He arrived in Canberra in 1994 encased in a V-neck jumper when all around him Keating Labor staffers wore superfine suits. A mere 18 months ago, Latham was in the outer at the Sydney Cricket Ground, plastic beer cup in hand, watching an Ashes Test. Howard was there, too - in the Australian Cricket Board suite sipping wine with the chairman. Latham is more complex than the blokey caricature. It's true he's distinctly of his class, neighborhood and generation. But he has been brilliant and relentless, rather than lucky and knockabout, in his political career - which started the day he joined the Labor party as a boy. He's a striver and a bookworm who's never had a brush with cool.