At the height of World War II, with Hitler's army on the march across Europe and Britain under direct and sustained attack, Winston Churchill rose to his feet in the House of Commons to stiffen his nation's resolve.
The British prime minister warned that British troops faced "very heavy fighting, heavier than any we have yet experienced in this war".
Britain, Churchill said, faced invasion "in a very grave and sharp form". He called for "the most strenuous exertions, a perfect unity of purpose ... unrelenting tenacity". Only then, he said, would Britain be able to "act our part worthily in the prodigious world drama in which we are now plunged".
Churchill was a flawed man, an imperfect leader who had survived triumph and disaster. In World War I he had been sacked from the war cabinet for his involvement in the disastrous Gallipoli campaign.
Seen through today's eyes he is often cast — and not without some foundation — as a racist and imperialist. The weights are still being added to the scale of Churchill's historical legacy.
Yet in the midst of war, Churchill offered certainty and determination. There was no room, at least not publicly, for self-doubt.
Who among today's leaders in the West speaks with such clarity? Joe Biden? He talks about a great battle of democracy against autocracy. But who believes him?
After the ignominy of American retreat from Afghanistan, where is American resolve?
Biden says it is wrong to bet against America. But the Taliban did and, after 20 years of war, it emerged victorious. US troops leaving and Taliban fighters reclaiming the country.
Imagine Churchill offering Hitler an invitation like Biden's
China is betting against America. North Korea is betting against America. Vladimir Putin, with 100,000-plus troops amassed on Ukraine's border, is most certainly betting against America.
Why wouldn't he? Last month Biden openly mused about how the West might tolerate a small scale Russian invasion. "It's one thing if it's a minor incursion," he said, "then we end up having a fight about what to do and not do, et cetera."
Well, there's an invitation to Putin. Imagine Churchill offering Hitler the same.
The Fuhrer certainly fancied his chances against Britain but he would never have been left in any doubt that Britain would fight.
Putin has seen off successive US Presidents during his two decades in power in Russia. He has reconstituted Russian power. In the absence of American resolve, he has invaded Georgia, propped up the Assad regime in Syria, waged war in Ukraine, annexed Crimea, strengthened his military and built up Russia's foreign currency reserves.
Now he openly prepares for an invasion of Ukraine and the West, led by the United States, still prevaricates or speaks in muted tones. The US threatens sanctions when Putin threatens war.
In Europe, NATO allies like Germany worry about the impact of the loss of Russian energy supplies. France talks about strategic autonomy — a foreign policy not entirely without America but apart from America.
Putin, meanwhile, draws closer to China's Xi Jinping, the two men now believing that history is on their side.
Xi has threatened Taiwan, claimed and militarised the disputed islands of the South China Sea and used economic coercion and threats against countries, including Australia. He has cracked down on dissent, crushed democracy protests in Hong Kong, is accused of genocide against ethnic Uighur Muslims and now is hosting the Winter Olympic Games — a global sports event meant to be a symbol of peace.
Xi Jinping and Vladimir Putin speak with certainty and directly challenge what has been called a liberal democratic global order while Western leaders give every indication they don't believe in that order or whether it is worth fighting for.
Apologies, loaves of bread and smiles
Last week Prime Minister Scott Morrison appeared at the National Press Club to kick start a federal election year. It should have been his chance to speak seriously and directly to the Australian people at a time of enormous disruption, upheaval and threat.
What did we get? Questions about text messages between former New South Wales premier Gladys Berejiklian and an anonymous federal cabinet minister describing the Prime Minister as a "horrible person" and a "psycho".
Morrison was asked to say sorry to the Australian people for his mistakes in handling the COVID pandemic. He was even asked whether he knew the price of a loaf of bread.
In the lead up to his speech the media was wrapped up in whether the outgoing Australian of the Year, Grace Tame, should have smiled at the PM.
It is one thing for a media with a short attention span searching for the next headline to obsess over the next distraction. But it is an indication of how rattled Morrison is by falling opinion poll numbers that he indulges this stuff.
Imagine Churchill worrying about whether someone smiled at him, let alone whether he'd ever bought a loaf of bread.
Mistakes and apologies? Do people dealing with death and disease, economic concerns and drumbeats of war really want leaders to wallow in self-criticism?
The media loves these word games. But no apology would be enough. Admitting mistakes is not seen as a sign of leadership or strength, but weakness.
What would Churchill do? Well, in another speech of reassurance to a nation battered and bombarded, he said:
"I have never given assurances of a speedy or cheap victory ... I have never promised anything but the hardest conditions, great disappointments and many mistakes."
Now, we are not in the midst of a global war. But we are certainly still battling with a devastating pandemic that has been likened to a war. And we are a hair-trigger away from a potential catastrophic conflict.
Serious conversations we're not having
There is another discussion underway in Australia — one we didn't hear much of at the National Press Club. The day after Morrison's speech, while pundits were still talking about nasty texts and bread, another conference was held in Canberra to discuss our military readiness in the case of war.
It was all about how we build our sovereign defence capability. How strong are our supply chains? What is the capacity of our defence contractors? How much do we rely on the rest of the world? How do we build more self-sufficiency? Will we be able to deliver on the AUKUS nuclear submarines deal?
These are serious questions. It is about nation building at a time when we don't talk enough about it. Instead, we talk about identity groups and engage in culture wars.
The defence contractors conference brought together serious-minded people who know how high the stakes are right now. Australia — a country that doesn't even make cars any more — is going to have to spend a lot more on defence and building capability.
That's a serious conversation we need to have. Because Xi Jinping and Vladimir Putin are certainly having that conversation. Yet the conference received scant coverage, drowned out by bread, texts and smiles.
Churchill, touring the battered cities of Britain, said he saw the impact of the "malice of our assailants". But while the buildings were "shattered and gutted", he said, "it has not had the heart of its people cast down".
Churchill promised then, in the darkest hour, that "all will be better for the world and there will a crown of honour to those who have endured and never failed".
Years of war and death and sacrifice lay ahead. But the prime minister and allies prevailed.
Churchill's language, his emphasis on values, endurance and sacrifice can seem so anachronistic today. Indeed, Churchill himself is just as likely to be derided as praised.
But we can also wonder where that type of leadership will be when we need it.
Stan Grant is the ABC's international affairs analyst and presents China Tonight on Monday at 9:35pm on ABC TV, and Tuesday at 8pm on the ABC News Channel, and on iview.