Faith in people
Militant and always confrontational was how Police Association delegate, Andy McClean, used to perceive unions. But that was in the days of rampaging BLF bovver boys, and the once feared but now deregistered Painters & Dockers Union, on which many based their judgements of trade unionism.
Now, as an active player in his own representative body, McClean sees the labour movement in a far more glowing light. A “real eye-opener” to him has been the broad respect he has seen the association command.
“To have a union like we have, strong and pro-active in the way it deals with government and SAPOL, it’s just nice to be part of it,” he says.
“To go to conferences and hear overseas guest speakers, like (Combined Law Enforcement Associations of Texas president) Ron DeLord and (former Police Federation of England and Wales chairman) Fred Broughton...
“SAPOL has great respect around the nation, but our union is exactly the same, and that comes right back to the leadership.”
Despite the images of renegade unions of the 1970s and ’80s, McClean had always harboured a strong interest in the association. Driven to help secure better working conditions for his mates, and not simply leave representative work to others, he took on the Country South Branch presidency in 1995.
And, in that year, he would draw great inspiration from the mass meeting of association members at Morphettville racecourse during what had become a bitter pay campaign.
He attended the rally as a proxy for then association delegate and now committee member, David “Bully” Reynolds, who had asked him to ferry some South-East members there by bus. The always affable McClean willingly became chauffeur to a band of country cops determined to add to the weight of association demand on a then hostile Liberal government.
“That really got me going,” he says. “We rolled into Adelaide with two busloads. There were about 40 of us from the South-East – about one in two members from our area.
“It was a fantastic night. To walk into a room like that and see so many (police)... You would never at any other time see that many coppers (1,800) together in one place.”
McClean, who had worked in the South-East since 1990, went on to become the association delegate for Mt Gambier in 1997. Ever since then, voters have returned him to office in consecutive elections.
He describes his current-day role as, in part, one of dealing with members’ “day-to-day (industrial) problems”. They frequently relate to such issues as rostering and cancelled leave; and those who ask him to negotiate with management for them are often “quite young” members.
McClean senses their cautiousness about confronting bosses. “They ring me about problems that can be fixed locally,” he says, “because they don’t want to be seen to be rocking the boat.”
Apart from attending the annual delegates’ conference, special meetings and association-run training sessions in Adelaide, McClean sees the rest of his role as that of an intelligence-gatherer. To his association superiors, he might, for example, report what he sees of the impact on members of an unsound SAPOL work practice.
“We get the info for the full-time staff and the executive committee to do the hard yards with the government and SAPOL,” he explains.
McClean left Daws Road High School in 1978 without any plans for his future. His Irish migrant father – who counted among his friends then superintendent and later commissioner, David Hunt – suggested he consider a career in policing. He went on to arrange for his young son to meet Hunt at Tara Hall for a private talk about life in the job.
After an hour-long conversation, McClean found his interest in police work truly sparked. So, as a 17-year-old just six months out of school, he joined SAPOL in 1979. On the same day he received word that the police had accepted him, he was due to attend an interview for a job as an apprentice mechanic.
McClean graduated in 1981, and then undertook his only stretch of city work – 18 months in speed detection and Adelaide reliefs. In late 1982, he transferred to Whayalla and has, over the ensuing years, served in Kimba, Port Lincoln, Penong, Ceduna, Mt Gambier, and his current post, Port McDonnell.
And, over 26 years as a cop, McClean has survived his share of close calls. In the late 1980s, he and a colleague went to Oak Valley Aboriginal Community, 410km north-west of Ceduna, to arrest a rapist. A court had issued a warrant for him.
The two officers took hold of the wanted man but never got him back to their police car: 30-odd community members launched an attack on them with sticks and bottles.
In ripped uniforms, the besieged cops made a desperate dash for the police car, leaving their prisoner behind.
But, once inside the car, McClean saw him charging at them with a tomahawk. He (McClean) grabbed a mileage book – then made of heavy cardboard – which he thrust in front of his partner’s head.
“That was in case he hoicked the thing (tomahawk) through the window,” he says. “We drove straight through them and out of the community, and kept going until we ran out of petrol. It was pretty scary.”
McClean, raised a Catholic but now not religious, has seen plenty of brutality and heartache on the front line of policing. But under his big frame and rugged looks is an even-tempered man who never looks at humanity with a jaundiced eye.
“Most people have goodness in them,” he insists. “You see it in small places, where the community is your greatest ally. I can call on people, just ring them, and they’re there, saying: ‘What can we do to help?’ I had that happen just recently when a dinghy overturned in the surf.
“Then, you try to give them a bit of recognition, and they say: ‘No, just doing it to help the community’.”
McClean’s best experience of community support came when he had to quieten some rowdy, out-of-town pub revellers in Cowell. After he arrested one, the local patrons jumped in to protect him against the other five or six.
McClean is certain that, had they not come to his aid, he “would have got clobbered”. “That’s the way people in country towns rally to support each other,” he says. “It doesn’t matter what it is, they just come out and help.”
The similarity that McClean sees between his police and union roles is that they both “deal with people’s emotions”. So, people skills, as well as directness, he says, are the greatest assets to anyone who works in either field.
“With the association work,” he explains, “you cut through the bullshit and get to the source of a problem. I’ve taken that back into (police) work with me, saying: ‘Let’s just cut to the chase and get the job done’.”
In his current police role, McClean expects to remain fulfilled long into the future and, therefore, plans no changes. Ask him to ponder his future with the Police Association and he laments the circumstances that he says prevent him from holding higher office.
“I would love to be on committee,” he says, “but I have a young family and I’m 500kms away. But I get a lot of satisfaction out of being a delegate.
“I just hope people remember me when I’m gone, and say: ‘Macca had a go, and we could always go to him if we wanted something. He would always put in the hard yards for us’.”
– Brett Williams
