It's probably inevitable that I should spend quite a lot of time thinking about politics: I live in Greece, after all, where most people live and breathe both theory and practice, having taken politics in with their mothers' milk, so to speak. But during a recent visit to Australia, I also found the matter very much on my mind, since there is a federal election coming up.
I've never been sure why people aspire to enter the political arena. The desire for power? The thought that they might be able to do some good? Self-interest? Perhaps the occupation suits a narcissistic sort of personality? The astute Dr Johnson defined a politician as 'a man of artifice; one of deep contrivance'. One can see his point. My own feeling is that politics resembles beauty contests in that the individuals most qualified to win seldom enter the field.
A friend recently drew my attention to H. L. Mencken, an American writer and cultural critic of strong and sometimes unattractive prejudices whose career developed in the first half of the 20th century. That same friend passed on a discerning comment by Mencken: 'The whole aim of practical politics is to keep the populace alarmed (and hence clamorous to be led to safety) by menacing it with an endless series of hobgoblins, all of them imaginary.'
Many cultures enshrine hobgoblins in myth: Greece has the kallikantzaroi, who spring from the bowels of the earth in order to haunt the world during the 12 days of Christmas, while in the Australianised version of the hobyah story, originally Scottish, the hobyahs, exuding threat, emerge from gloomy gullies and move through the grey gum trees, skip, skip, skipping on the ends of their toes. In Greece the kallikantzaroi are defeated by the power of light and love; more mundanely, the hobyahs are defeated by vigilant little dog, Dingo.
When I was a child the Hobgoblin-in-Chief was the Communist Party. I have dim memories of Reds under beds, and a young neighbour returning from the Korean War. My mother was intrigued by a radio series called The Third Man, which was not about Harry Lime, but about the Burgess/Maclean/Philby treason, while all of Australia was consumed by the Petrov affair, which involved the defection of two KGB agents. There were dark stories about ASIO. And later there was the Vietnam War.
Of course there have been many hobgoblins of varying sizes and shapes since. Feminists were a threat to family life; small l liberals were too permissive and soft-hearted; immigrants, particularly non-white ones, were always suspect (we've had boat people before, remember?) Then came the War on Terror and Islamophobia.
And there are many hobgoblins spreading their dark shadows in almost all parts of the world: even the EU has taken on bogeyman characteristics. Hobgoblins have always been around, of course, but now, thanks to the speed and ease of communication, we know so much more, and (ironically) may be more easily manipulated, despite our knowledge.
"Roosevelt knew about hobgoblins, and famously told the American people that the only thing they had to fear was fear itself. We would do well to remember that."
We are easily manipulated because of our fear, which those in power play on. We fear all sorts of things, but particularly whatever can be considered other and unknown. (The bush can be considered both: remember those hobyahs, the gullies, and the grey gum-trees.) We also fear a threat to our standard of living. This is a powerful hobgoblin indeed, and one brought out to menace us regularly: as President Clinton remarked: 'It's the economy, stupid.'
And so it is in this pre-election climate, where some journalism has been plumbing the depths: a piece recently told the public that voting for Bill Shorten and Chris Bowen was a short route to the end of the world as we know it, for these men have a two-way strategy that aims to destroy Australia. Why they would want to do this was not made clear, at least not to me. Australia was also compared, rather oddly and simplistically, with Venezuela.
President Roosevelt, a contemporary of Mencken's, knew about hobgoblins, and famously told the American people that the only thing they had to fear was fear itself. We would do well to remember that.
Gillian Bouras is an expatriate Australian writer who has written several books, stories and articles, many of them dealing with her experiences as an Australian woman in Greece.
Main image: 17th century oil paining La ronde des Farfadets de Les Farfadets by David Ryckaert.