IT was, as Mr Charles Dickens might have put it, an age of steadiness in one shire, an age of uncertainty in another, and an age of rueful reckoning in a third.
For in the realm of local government, where the fortunes of towns and parishes rise and fall not with the turning of empire but with the choices of mayors and councillors, leadership is the quiet engine that drives a community forward, or leaves it stalled upon the roadside.
In Mitchell Shire, the lamps burn bright and steady. There, Cr John Dougall has been entrusted with a second consecutive term as Mayor, an honour bestowed by his fellow councillors and embraced with the humility of a man keenly aware of the weight of service. Amidst the clamour of rapid population growth, the fastest in all the state, Mitchell stands as a model of continuity, coherence and calm direction. Cr Dougall’s reflections ring with the sturdy values of gratitude, resolve and fidelity to the Council Plan. His talk of advocacy and long-term purpose conjures the image of a municipality striding confidently into its future, charting its course with deliberate and disciplined hand.
But journey a little further down the civic thoroughfare and the scene changes. In Whittlesea, the shadows gather longer. Leadership there has been as fickle as the November wind; mayors rise and shift with disquieting rapidity. The suspension of Councillor Aidan McLindon by the state government once again set the council on its heels, prompting the hurried, unopposed elevation of Cr Martin Taylor, a worthy stopgap, but not a settled cure. And now, with Cr Lawrie Cox newly elected mayor, the task before him is formidable indeed: to restore confidence, to quiet the murmurs of past governance troubles, and to steady a council long beset by turbulence. The inability to hold a firm hand at the tiller lingers like a ghost in the corridors of Whittlesea’s chambers, and it is now for Cr Cox to attempt its banishment.
Then, at last, to Macedon Ranges, a district where this month’s tale has taken on the melancholy of a farewell chapter. Mayor Dom Bonanno, having admitted to speeding and driving over the legal alcohol limit in a council vehicle, finds his term ending not with a flourish but with a sombre lesson in fallibility. His decision not to seek re-election is fitting, yet the shadow cast by this lapse is undeniable. It stands as a stark reminder that the office of mayor is built upon trust, and that even a single moment of misjudgement can weigh heavily upon years of earnest labour.
Thus, in these three municipalities, one marked by steadiness, one by upheaval, one by an avoidable stumble, we see how profoundly a community’s tone, spirit and sense of direction may hinge upon the character and constancy of its leadership. Local government may indeed be the tier closest to the people, yet it is leadership that determines whether the people feel truly close, or quietly estranged, from those who serve them.
But then, dear reader, that is merely my opinion.
