It’s much easier to get a run with cultural cringe.

By Lyle Dunne

Is it me, or is the silly season getting weirder? 

Foreign visitors never seem to get this uniquely Australian institution: they tell themselves they only take a week of for what some call “The Holidays”, forgetting that much of Europe seems to close down for the month of August. 

But the idea of a month or so enjoying the beach, watching cricket and tennis, and escaping day-to-day politics, may be something they secretly envy. Certainly it’s part of our idea of ourselves. 

This year, apart from the surrealist weather, we seem to have had more than the usual welter of “let’s re-invent ourselves” articles. 

I don’t know about you, but I’m a bit over reading The Need For a New Flag, How to Make Republicanism Relevant, What Would be a Better Day to Celebrate Australia Day than Australia Day, and How to Make Our Political System More Vibrant Like the American One. (How about if the First Bloke were to dance with the PM instead of telling her jokes about digital rectal examination?) 

Did this mean Australians were radically dissatisfied with Australia? 

Not really, I decided: it meant a few writers were suffering from seasonal political deprivation – and it’s much easier to get a run with cultural cringe and a call for change than by saying that actually our system works pretty well, at least compared with anyone else’s. Even if the latter is what most Australians, if they thought about it between sets or overs, really believe. 

Nova Peris

Then there was the Nova Peris affair. It’s hard to see what the point was there: if it was to impress the Indigenous community it doesn’t seem to have been a roaring success, given the response of Aboriginal politicians that Senator Peris would be “a maid serving cups of tea” and “a pet Aborigine”. 

The impression one got from Gillard’s admittedly less-than-convincing comments at the announcement was that the symbolic benefits of an Aboriginal woman in caucus outweighed her lack of political experience: 

“I believe Nova’s selection is a matter of national significance… It would be the first time that our political party has put forward an Indigenous Australian in a winnable position at a federal election.”

There is however another interpretation.  Peris’s status as a political ingénue may actually be an asset, from Gillard’s perspective. It means that she is free from any of the baggage that almost inevitably comes from a history within the ALP. But, perhaps more importantly, it is clear that she owes her position entirely to Gillard. She may not be the maid or pet of the ALP, but it is clear that she will be the protégé, indeed the creature, of the Prime Minister.   

Had the ALP chosen to appoint, say, Warren Mundine to this position, he could reasonably claim that this was because he was the best person for the position, and that his success was due to his lengthy experience in the ALP machine – and that, from the viewpoint of the ALP, he had earned it: he had done the hard yards.   

Nova Peris may not be the maid or pet of the ALP, but it is clear that she will be the protégé, indeed the creature, of the Prime Minister.

Thereafter, he would be in a position to express independent views – and, given his history, it would not be surprising if these included occasional criticisms of ALP Indigenous policy. 

The very nature of the “Captain’s Pick” process, however, makes it clear that the Peris received the position solely through Gillard’s patronage, completely sidelining the normal preselection process.  

Thus I think we can safely assume that there will be no criticisms of ALP treatment of Aborigines emanating from Senator Peris; indeed, should such criticisms emerge from other sources, she could defend the government’s policies and performance, without the suggestion of patronization which might arise were a non-indigenous government spokesman to imply that the government knows best when it comes to what’s good for the indigenous population. 

And if that weren’t enough, it would be hard for any Coalition commentator, or anyone else, to criticise such a defence: they’d be accused of picking on the new kid, sexism (even misogyny!) and racism – and picking on a sporting hero!   

Another intended benefit, however, may be to make the PM appear strong and in control. The PM giveth – and the PM taketh away.  No “faceless men” for Gillard: the party dances to her tune.  

This could be an application of the lesson of last year’s misogyny rant: the content doesn’t so much matter, what matters is Standing Tall and Talking Tough.

Time to die

Such a theme would be consistent with what might be thought of as the closing ceremony for the 2011-12 silly season: Gillard’s Press Club speech, in which she made a surprise announcement of the election date. This certainly caught the nation’s attention, even more than the unveiling of new, earnest, Clark-Kent glasses.  And it seemed like a clever announcement. The date was late enough to be able to claim the government had run its full term, yet not so late as to tempt fate, nor make it appear they were hanging on as long as possible before facing inevitable defeat. And you never know, a week is a long time in politics – the polls may turn around. 

And there was perhaps a chance that the line about  “governing first, electioneering second” might fly, despite being embedded in what was really a campaign-launch speech which disparaged campaigning. 

Perhaps people might believe that the government talking up its achievements and aims was “governing”, and the opposition talking about the government’s failings was not doing its job, but engaging in excessive “campaigning” and “relentless negativity”. 

The speech itself was quite a clever exercise in high-level self-congratulation-with-reservations:

• Australians are really very fortunate (due largely to the far-sighted policies of the Gillard Government); 
• Nonetheless we face significant challenges (due largely to issues beyond the control of the Gillard Government);
• Fortunately we have a PM who will strive, nay, who will fight to achieve world-class education, jobs, fairness, security, “support” for families and the disabled, etc – emphasized by short sentences and repeated words: think Turn! Turn! Turn!

Arguably, there was a 24-hour period in which the PM did in fact seem strong and in control – until she was brought down with a thump following the arrest of Labor MP Craig Thomson on 150 fraud charges. 

And just in case anyone had forgotten the gravamen of the case against him, we were reminded that he was prohibited from contacting anyone he’d allegedly paid for sex. 

So was the juxtaposition of these two events just bad luck? 

That’s what it looks like. But the argy-bargy about whether Thomson could’ve avoided the ignominy of arrest but going to Melbourne and turning himself in indicates that he, and therefore presumably Gillard, had some warning of the imminent arrest. 

Is it possible that Gillard seriously hope to forestall his arrest by announcing the election date? 

Or was it merely an attempt to lock in the cross-benchers – and doubters within the party – who might otherwise have been tempted to withdraw their support?  

One can scarcely blame Gillard for trying to put a brave face on things, despite the circling vultures, scandals and opinion polls.  But one wonders whether, in the long watches of the night, she thinks of the lyrics of Turn! Turn! Turn!, and wonders whether for governments too there is a time to reap and a time to sow, a time to be born, and a time to die.