After crushing a popular uprising in 1953, the communist leaders of East Germany said that the people would have to work very hard to regain their confidence. In response, Bertolt Brecht wrote a famous poem which sardonically proposed that the regime should consider dissolving the people and electing another.
Our elites' reaction to the result of the republic referendum suggests that this is just what they would like to do to those of us who did not follow their exhortations, stupid and unworthy wretches that we are.
Rather than a gracious acknowledgement of the possibility that people who voted "no" might have considered the issue just as responsibly and intelligently as those who voted "yes", our righteous worthies went ballistic. In doing so, they must have quelled the misgivings of some people who were wondering whether they had really made the right decision in voting against the republic.
But the vehement response of the elites seems out of all proportion to the issues that were supposedly at stake. It was not a referendum over radically different social or economic programs, which might lead to a substantial realignment of winners and losers on a national scale. Surely all those angry and tearful celebrities had not been nursing a secret hope that one day they might be Parliament's choice for President?
The most plausible interpretation of the referendum result is that, even though a substantial majority of Australians would like us to become a republic eventually, they do not view it as an urgent matter. The republican push did not derive from a groundswell of popular sentiment. It was imposed from above, motivated at least in part by some rather shabby political considerations.
Obviously, people would prefer to wait until they are presented with a more agreeable model for a republic, one that better expresses the national ethos and that is not as flawed as the model on offer last Saturday. Such an attitude is neither irrational nor irresponsible. It is offensive to state that the Australians who voted "no" are "ignorant", or "unpatriotic", or "gullible", or any of the other nasty epithets hurled at them by activists, commentators, and correspondents to newspapers.
A somewhat less patronising explanation was proposed by Paul Kelly of The Australian, and taken up by a number of others. Based on voting patterns in different kinds of electorates, the suggestion was that the "yes" supporters were generally people who feel confident and secure about the pace of social and economic change, whereas the "no" supporters were those who are finding change tough.
Perhaps there is something to this explanation, although I remain to be convinced. But even so, the commentators have avoided the really interesting question. Why did the elites respond with such intensity to the outcome of the referendum?
I think that the answer may be found by turning the Kelly explanation on its head. People who really feel confident about their place in the world would be much more laid back about their defeat on what is only a symbolic issue. Clearly, important sections of our cultural and political elites are deeply insecure, uncertain about their own identities, and very worried about what others think of them.
Having convinced themselves that the world was focused on the referendum and that they would somehow be judged by the outcome, they are now in an awful funk. They have globalised the old lament of jittery conformists -- "what will the neighbours say?". The usual suspects are now lining up to express their shame at being Australian, in the hope that they can somehow distance themselves from the international opprobrium that they foolishly imagine will befall this country.
Anguished expatriates are writing to ask how they can explain the "no" victory to their colleagues. (Simple enough -- "Most Australians made up their own minds, despite all the attempts by academics, celebrities and the media to browbeat them into voting 'yes' ".) Eight superannuated diplomats pontificated that "overseas", we will continue to be seen as "subordinate", and as "turning away from the progress Australia has made in the past 50 years to establish a truly independent national identity".
The obvious fact that most ordinary Australians are not swayed by such overwrought nonsense -- widely canvassed before the referendum as well -- suggests that unlike the elites, they feel comfortable about their national identity. Their justifiable pride in being citizens of a decent and highly successful nation has not been compromised by Australia's status as a constitutional monarchy.
And they are much less likely to indulge in pompous navel gazing about Australia's identity. Although the elites portray their relish for such activity as a mark of their sophistication and public-spiritedness, it is more the expression of an adolescent self-absorption which projects personal anxieties and emotions onto the nation as a whole. After all, it wasn't "Australia's heart" that was broken last Saturday night, but Malcolm Turnbull's heart and the hearts of his mates.
Given their role in our national life, it is not a good sign that our elites are so lacking in confidence. But it is hardly surprising. Many prominent people in politics, academia and the arts have achieved their positions through patronage networks which provide protection and advancement in exchange for loyalty and conformity. Such an environment encourages self-doubt, because people can seldom be sure of whether their success is a result of their own talents, or a consequence of their connections.
So we should adopt a more understanding approach towards our elites, and be more sympathetic about the personal anxieties that drive their obsessions. Until they feel good about themselves, they will never feel comfortable and relaxed about Australia. It is not a republic that they need, but a national program of therapy and education that might help them to become more independent and confident of themselves. Only then might they stop patronising their fellow Australians.
ADVERTISEMENT
No comments:
Post a Comment