On the morning of 15 October 1975, most major newspapers advocated in their editorials that the Labor Government should go.

Opposition Leader Malcolm Fraser read the headlines he had been lobbying for and waiting for, called a press conference and announced his intention to defer supply. This action triggered events which led to the most controversial action in Australian political history.

Prime minister Gough Whitlam’s Dismissal on 11 November by the governor-general Sir John Kerr, 50 years ago, provoked outrage and fury. The shock and perceived injustices led to a bitter election contest. Analysis of the press coverage and interviews with proprietors, editors and journalists at the time revealed disenchantment and distrust within and without the Fourth Estate.

Apart from the unprecedented sacking of a prime minister, it was a pivotal time in media history. Australia had the second highest degree of press concentration in the capitalist world, second only to the Republic of Ireland. Peter Robinson, the associate commissioner of the Industries’ Assistance Commission and former editor of the Australian Financial Review, described Australian newspapers as one of the few remaining vestiges of feudalism in the world.

But the press in 1975 had become economically fragile. Television, introduced in 1956, had captured the imagination of the public and the press now depended on television income for company profits. Many more people watched the news on television than bought a newspaper, but the pre-eminent media political voice, where issues were debated and the agenda set, remained the press, with reporting by elite political reporters, the members of the Press Gallery who were based in Canberra. There was no internet; television news and radio talkback, including ABC broadcasting bulletins, did not dig deep.

The three major press groups in Australia were News Limited, notably The Australian, owned by Rupert Murdoch; the John Fairfax Group, including _The Age, (_formerly owned by the Syme family), which was highly regarded and profitable, The Sydney Morning Herald, which Whitlam described as “a dynastic indulgence read only by the Fairfax family” and the Australian Financial Review. The third group was the Herald and Weekly Times Limited, including the Melbourne Sun and The Herald; both papers topped the circulation sales of metropolitan dailies throughout the country.

Many press gallery journalists had covered politics for years. Every day they’d work out what was the important issue and investigate who said what, who was doing what and they would file their stories. They understood, as professionals, whether they had a good story or not. They expected it to be treated on merit and had a very good idea whether it was worthy of a front page or where it might go in the paper.

Political journalists were fiercely competitive. It was a very important challenge to break a story, and every journalist had their favoured people they would go to, who may “leak” to them. The Canberra Press Gallery knew, inside out, what was going on; they knew when a story was being blocked, they knew how to strategise on questions and follow-up. The 1975 election would severely test those journalists’ faith in their profession and the institutions they represented.

There was a dynamic, journalists understood, between the prime minister, their proprietor and editor which had changed over the years. Sir Robert Menzies, prime minister for more than 18 years, became practised at keeping the press in their place. He was an intimidating figure and would give out only what he wanted. Harold Holt, who followed Menzies, was a very different character who would invite the press in and try and chat to them. (He drowned accidentally within a year). Interaction with the press continued with John Gorton as prime minister (1969-71), with Alan Ramsay famously interjecting in parliament, calling Gorton “a liar” during his speech on Malcolm Fraser’s resignation as defence minister. He later apologised. Then came William McMahon (1971-1972), whom Whitlam called “Tiberius with a telephone”, as he would regularly ring journalists saying such things as: “There was a terrible headline this morning”, “This is not fair”, “You have to give us a go”, and “Really you should be on our side”.

By the time Gough Whitlam won government in 1972, the relationship between the prime minister, the governing ministers, the backbenchers and the press had transformed into an interactive process. The press respected Whitlam’s eloquence, intellect, wit and his intimidating bearing- “If Whitlam put you down, boy, were you put down” – but they knew their rough and tumble trade and had learnt how to stand their ground. They understood they were part of the political process.

Politicians had learned ways of manipulating journalists and it had become a contest of communication skills. If a politician got to talk to Laurie Oakes (a master in his field) at the Sun with its 640,000 readers, they got a bigger readership: if they talked to Michelle Grattan at The Age, with only 240,000 readers they got “a better run”, meaning more perceived status. “A lot of politicians would skin themselves alive to get five paragraphs in The Age,” said one journalist.

When Sir John Kerr dismissed Whitlam, I was a senior lecturer in the Media Centre at La Trobe University. A course I taught, Mass Media Socialisation, was available to mature students who did not have a first degree but had trained on the job and were experienced journalists. They were terrific students to teach because they were committed and seriously interested in analysis of the medium in which they worked.

I had a grant from the Film, Radio and Television Board of the Australia Council to undertake research on the news media. So, I was well set up to initiate a study of the press coverage of the imminent election through an analysis of the political content in The Sun, The Herald, The Australian, The Age, and to interview proprietors, editors and journalists. This research was subsequently published in my book _The Politics of the Press_, Sun Books, 1979.

I interviewed Ranald McDonald, managing director of The Age, Les Carlyon, editor of The Age during the 1975 election, Greg Taylor, subsequent editor of The Age. who became editor-in-chief of David Syme and Co limited, Max Walsh, editor of the Australian Financial Review, Brian Hogben, group general manager, Editorial News Ltd., and John Morgan, editor and subsequently executive editor of The Sun. All men spoke openly on the record and gave me all the time I requested. Murdoch’s secretary apologised for her busy boss.

Ian Baker, a well-known political journalist, working at the Melbourne Sun was enrolled in my course and he introduced me to the members of the Press Gallery, most of whom he knew personally. Through him, I got access I could not have achieved as an outside academic. We travelled to Canberra, post the election, and interviewed members of the Canberra Press Gallery. All but one spoke to me. What the analysis showed is in Part 2. It was both revealing and disturbing.

The views expressed in this article may or may not reflect those of Pearls and Irritations.