They told the electorate that if a president was elected by the method envisaged - appointed by two-thirds of parliament after a public nomination process - he or she was bound to be a politician. Not for republicans, who may have to wait decades for another chance to get rid of the Queen. And most assuredly not for the Australian people, three- quarters of whom favour a republic with their own head of state.This is the perverse and paradoxical situation in which Australia finds itself this morning, less than two months away from the dawn of a new century that many had hoped would usher in a new phase in the history of this young, self-confident nation.For a clue as to how it reached this impasse, look no further than the slogan on the dark blue "no" campaign posters outside polling booths yesterday: "No More Power To The Politicians".It was Australians' deep-rooted distrust of their masters that Mrs Jones and her fellow campaigners exploited. As the television cameras rolled in the Tumbalong Room of the Sydney Convention Centre, Mrs Jones painted on a smile and began her speech.

"This is a very special day in the history of our great country," she said. "Let this result tonight be celebrated by all Australians as a victory." The result to which she referred was the unambiguous "No" - by 55 per cent to 45 per cent - to a referendum question that asked Australians whether they wanted their country to become a republic, with the Queen replaced as head of state by an Australian president.But for whom or what was it a victory? Not for the monarchy, certainly, which commands the support of less than one-tenth of the population. He returned to his native Australia in the early 1980s.REVOLUTION? CULTURE, PAGE 1. KERRY JONES, head of Australians for a Constitutional Monarchy, slipped off her high-heeled shoes and relaxed her heavily made-up features for a moment. It was 9.30pm, and across town Malcolm Turnbull, chairman of the Australian Republican Movement (ARM), had just conceded defeat. No Worries!" No republic, I thought, no coming of age.Next time I'll hurl myself into the fray, up to my neck.t Richard Neville was founding editor of `Oz' magazine in London, subject of the 1971 trial.

It's too late for that now, I hectored, we may not get another chance in our lifetime A flawed republic is better than no republic. The chirpy monarchists at the high school gate held up their placards: "No Republic. We needed a Henry Lawson or a Banjo Patterson, and we got the Treasurer, Peter Costello, We wanted Joan of Arc or Thomas Jefferson, and we got the Murdoch family. (The huge front page graphic in the Australian newspaper commanded "Vote Yes!", thus alienating more swinging lefties, who anyway seemed much more gripped by the rugby World Cup).As I walked in the drizzle towards the polling centre, friends met along the way confessed to confusion and doubt. Malcolm Turnbull has been magnificent overall, as has Natasha Scott Depoja and others, but our cause never found its dashing populist. I asked why he was rejecting the republic, and his answer seemed to speak for the heartland, as well as many wrinkled radicals: "Too many crooks are keen on it."Not crooks, necessarily, in my view, but the hard hats of power, wealth and number-crunching. Yesterday, when I phoned one of my oldest friends to lament the likely result, he shocked me by revealing his voting intentions.