Why Aussie politicians should learn to party

Notwithstanding the efforts of recent generations of political “strong men”, Australia is not governed under a presidential system; that is, we do not periodically select a ‘main man’, ‘hero’, ‘champion’, or ‘big brother’ to us all.

We expend our accumulations of unrestrained public adulation on our sporting notables. The value of sporting achievements is that they are inspirational and morale-boosting, no more and no less than symbolic.

The 24 January 2009 issue of New Scientist includes a report that, of all prison inmates, those with psychopathic tendencies “tend to be unusually adept at manipulating others, and even the legal system, to their advantage ... They were also much more likely to then violate their parole than non-psychopaths.”

The ability to manipulate others is advantageous to those striving for high office in any organisation.
Prime ministers and other elected representatives perform important jobs, and we, the electors, are their assessors. Only if we are powerless to choose among the candidates should we allow ourselves the luxury of uncritical celebration; we are otherwise obliged to ourselves to keep the bastards honest.

Further Americanisation of our political culture is not to be encouraged.

'Australians are not that different from Americans. They are just given fewer occasions to display their joy.'
Really? Has John lived in America?
He lists the apology to the stolen generations, royal tours, ANZAC Day ceremonies and Australia Day celebrations as displays 'of public joy and affection'.

To these, in Melbourne anyway, we can add the grand final parade, grand final barbecues, the boxing day test, one day cricket, the Melbourne Cup, Olympic motorcades, Moomba, Palm Sunday peace rallies, carols by candlelight, new year’s eve fireworks, walks for reconciliation, fun runs, big days out and state funerals. (Few of the thousand or so at Frank Crean’s farewell last month at St Paul’s were friends or colleagues.)

We have far more public parties here.
The difference between these and the American celebrations for which John yearns is that political leaders are not the focus of ours. (Although smart pollies will be there.)

This is highly desirable. Where our attitude to politicians differs from Americans’ – more sceptical, less idolatrous – ours is better.
Many Americans admit ruefully that it was loyalty to the Commander-in-Chief of soldiers who were just sent to war that obliged them to vote for Bush in 2004.

The problem with Australian celebrations is that they are always organised by a committee who can’t see past fireworks. Not the “light a double banger, put a rocket in a milk bottle and pin the Catherine Wheel to this piece of wood” fireworks which some of us remember from our youth, but the “sit on the banks of the Yarra and watch the professionals” fireworks.
Yet if you look for Australian experts on the art of celebration, you’ll find some still alive.

My husband grew up in Kingston Rd, Surrey Hills, near the railway line, where there were kids in every house and a game of street cricket ran all summer, with rubbish bins for wickets and responsible big kids, who put a small kid under one arm and a bin under the other and cleared the road when a car came along.

Tunnels were dug under the fence of the army reserve depot, and a number of tree houses were built there. When the Queen visited Melbourne, she rode to Healesville Sanctuary on a platform behind a train. The tree houses were decorated with red, white and blue to mark the occasion.

That summer everyone under 20 who lived in the street travelled to Camberwell, through the drains. A concrete lid was prised up, a ladder was climbed down, and everyone wore gumboots. The big kids piggybacked the little kids when the water grew too deep. Mothers remained in blissful ignorance. There was no flash flood. Nobody drowned. That day remains in my husband’s memory as the best day of his Australian summers.

I recommend that we reconvene the Kingsford Rd kids, and put them in charge of all Australian celebrations.

“Australians are not that different from Americans. They are just given fewer occasions to display their joy.”

Really? John lists the apology to the stolen generations, royal tours, ANZAC Day ceremonies and Australia Day celebrations as displays “of public joy and affection”.

To these, in Melbourne anyway, we can add the grand final parade, grand final barbecues, the boxing day test, one day cricket, the Melbourne Cup, Olympic motorcades, Moomba, Palm Sunday peace rallies, carols by candlelight, new year’s eve fireworks, walks for reconciliation, fun runs, big days out and state funerals. (Few of the thousand or so at Frank Crean’s farewell last month at St Paul’s were friends or colleagues.)

We have far more public parties here.
The difference between these and the American celebrations for which John yearns is that political leaders are not the focus of ours. (Although smart pollies will be there.)

This is highly desirable. Where our attitude to politicians differs from Americans’ – more sceptical, less idolatrous – ours is better.

Many Americans admit ruefully that it was loyalty to the Commander-in-Chief of soldiers just sent to war that obliged them to vote for Bush in 2004.

Well ... I'm not convinced that Australians really are a "partying" lot! The enormous masses of people listening to Barack, in the past year, just don't happen here. Australians are not really that type of people. Obama would probably get quite a lot of Australians in a square to listen to him because he treats his audiences as if they were intelligent people ... which our politicians don't do. He is an excellent orator, Obama. But otherwise, no. The biggest crowds I ever saw in Australian streets was the Vietnam Moratorium.

Australia Day in Canberra was a small crowd, very, very quiet, a bush band in the background, people talking, children playing, some reading and that was it.

When the Republic comes, we will have lots of people out there looking at each other to find out whether they look any different (puzzled!), others will celebrate or be bemused.

Actually, it should be interesting to see Australians' reaction when we become a Republic. Let it come, I say, the sooner the better!

We are not America.

We are not that fat.