I’ve been inhabiting
that stream of the Twitterverse which has been closely following /tweeting the
whole Rudd vs Gillard tussle. I found myself rather furiously tweeting (in both
senses of the word) some comments which may have some of you wondering why one
of Mr Rudd’s constituents isn’t keen on his return to the prime ministership.
This post is, therefore, a ‘Psephy Extra’, (accidentally extra-long), a post in
addition to the one I planned to write tomorrow.
This post is that
awkward mix of professional and personal reasons why I despair at what Mr Rudd
is pursuing and, by extension, what he is doing to diminish our political
culture. He is not solely responsible; he is not doing it single-handedly.
Rather, events this week are symptomatic of a bruised and battered social
contract and it is our responsibility as alert and engaged citizens to
rehabilitate it. The way to do it is not through the lame appropriation of
‘people power’ that Mr Rudd has sought to extol either. Government is not a
popularity contest.
In 2007, I attracted
admonition and whispered scorn of friends and colleagues as I failed to jump on
the fabled Kevin07 bus. Yes, I was tired of the Howard Government like many
others. I was disappointed with the way in which we had become a less generous
society as a form of naked neo-liberalism began to establish itself like a
pesky vine that resists cutting, spraying and downright cursing. But even then,
for me, ‘Rudd for PM’ was not going to be the answer. Why?
Why indeed. My
background and experience aligns closely with the Rudd story. I too am an
Asianist, though I graduated from Griffith and Queensland Universities in
Japanese studies (not Chinese at ANU); I’ve spent some time in DFAT (though not
long enough to be posted somewhere where my university training would be
irrelevant, in the first instance). I could spin a bit of a
‘hard-life-done-good’ narrative too if I wanted to, but I won’t. He’s not actually
that much older than me, so I suppose we are more or less of the same
generation (though I distinctly prefer the Gen X label, given I sit right on
the cusp). Why, I’ve even ‘met’ him a couple of times at book launches and the
like as our divergent paths have managed to occasionally intersect.
But in 2007, to my
sceptical friends and colleagues I argued he wasn’t made of the ‘right stuff’
to be PM, and that his run was, if anything, premature but actually quite
foolhardy. A PM, I suggested, should have some ministerial experience under his or her belt before taking on the top job. The opposition benches don't quite cut it. I have three instances, as an Asianist, a constituent and a political
staffer, where the seeds of doubt about the Rudd juggernaut were sown. Sadly,
nothing about the events of the last week have demonstrated to me he has paused
and reflected on his failings and sought to make the world (not his world)
a better place.
In the early to
mid-1990s, I was one of the bunnies tasked with implementing elements of what
became known as the Rudd Report, a paper for encouraging the study of Asian languages in schools. For all intents and purposes, a great
initiative with terrific promise, a way to encourage students to explore the
joy of learning an Asian language in the way I had been able to at high school.
Of course I was an early advocate. But on the ground, poor planning and
implementation, lack of funding, the overwrought expectations of converting
dedicated and committed teachers of European languages to Asian language
teachers over a summer break ultimately overwhelmed us. The resulting
‘compulsion’ of ‘Asian language learning for economic benefit’ instead of
instilling a love of learning for the sake of it, simply fostered pockets of
resentment towards our Asian neighbours. For all the time and energy expended,
we still haven’t managed to ‘get Asia’ satisfactorily (the intended subject, as
it happens, of my regular post; more on that tomorrow).
So I was a little
surprised, a couple of years later, to find that the author of that report was
campaigning for election in my federal electorate. Suddenly the face of a once
‘faceless’ Qld bureaucrat was beaming to us everywhere on corflutes and in
letterbox drops, street corners and ads in the local paper. I was also a little
taken aback that his primary campaign platform seemed to have something to do
with the airport—over on the northside and not exactly the first issue that
came to mind in the electorate (I surveyed the neighbours and the shopkeepers in
support of my assertions). I was intrigued but perplexed. Coincidentally, I had
read a book by Robert Hughes, The Culture
of Complaint, (Oxford UP, 1993), his examination of the growing culture of
complaint, litigation and failure to take responsibility in the US at the time.
I was somewhat uncomfortable that a wannabe public figure was in fact whipping
up a ‘culture of complaint’ over a non-issue, really—let’s face it, we live in
a city, we need an airport, we need to learn to live with it—it seemed somewhat
disingenuous to me. He didn’t win the first time, but kept beating the drum
until elected in 1998, and he’s been constructing the ‘local member, happy
little vegemate’ persona of the popular, ever since.
As life’s wheels turn,
by 1998 after a period ‘between jobs’, I found myself working for a senator and
doing the regular shuttle between Brisbane and Canberra for a couple of years. I beat my new local member to
parliament by a few months (ha-ha). As a first-term member, I recall Mr Rudd
then being ambitious beyond all expectation. He demonstrated a certain
haughtiness I suppose and a hubris in decrying my senator publicly as he felt
he could (since my senator had just previously resigned from the Labor Party
and become an independent, sharing the balance of power—sorry, no prizes for
guessing). Very early on, Kevin Rudd, member for Griffith, courted the local
media and one particular fiery statement about the senator that he made in our
local suburban newspaper could not be counterbalanced despite our requests to
the editor. Clearly, Mr Rudd had ambition. There were other exchanges along the
way, suffice to say, the videos and tales of PM&C survivors don’t surprise
me.
I am, however,
grateful to Mr Rudd for his contribution to steering my career, as an academic,
in the direction it has taken. You see, working in parliament for one of the
less-liked politicians when you cross paths with one of the most nakedly
ambitious, (and I apologise for that image) teaches one much about the rawness
of human nature. I’ve seen what people, who can seem gracious and amenable, on
the one hand, are prepared to do to get what they want. Sometimes our bearpit
of a parliament plays it quite dirty. I eventually left wanting to believe we
can do better.
So, I turned to
political philosophy to find some answers. I’ve been studying for a while, and
I think we can do better. I actually think that transformation of our political
culture, and what it has become, is in our hands. We need to insist on more
policy integrity from our local members, not fall to the cult of celebrity. We,
the people, cultivate our political culture—are the machinations of the last
week or so really what we want? Out with vacuity, in with substance, please.
So no, Mr Rudd, you
don’t have my vote, but you do have my thanks. You’ve made me seek a better
polity, far away from the one you would proffer an ‘adoring’ mob. And, for the
record, Ms Gillard, another ‘almost’ contemporary: you’re not doing a whole lot
better for the politics for the people over the politics of naked ambition. I put
the challenge to you all to contain the politics of personal ambition and
foster a public politics of which we can be proud and engaged. The integrity of
our political system depends on it.
