Political Corrections

with Mungo MacCallum

The truth is out there - way out there

What is truth, asked jesting Pilate; and would not stay for an answer (Francis Bacon, 1625).

Well, as it turns out Pilate had a great deal in common with our beloved prime minister. To both, truth is a bit of a joke and certainly not something to be dwelt on at any length. Indeed, in "Honest" John Howard's case it is more often than not something to be avoided at all costs.

(Incidentally, isn't it good to see that nickname has finally regained its intended meaning - an ironic appendage bestowed for the same reason that redheads are called Bluey and dwarfs Lofty.)

Howard has long made it clear that he regards truth not as an absolute, but as a kind of moveable standard that can be constantly readjusted according to the political demands of the time.

Thus "never, ever" in the case of the GST becomes "not in my first term of government." "The strictest code of ministerial conduct ever" becomes "only a guideline." And of course, promises are not promises when they are "non-core."

But it is in the children overboard saga that we see Howard's moral relativism in its full Orwellian glory, the ultimate flowering of the paradox that truth, as Humpty Dumpty might have put it, is really whatever you want it to be at the time.

Even Howard now accepts that no children were actually flung overboard by the asylum seekers of SIEV 4, the unfortunate vessel at the centre of the 2001 campaign storm. Indeed, no children were thrown overboard by anyone: one infant was dropped from one parent on a sinking ship into the arms of another already in the water and wearing a lifejacket.

Howard certainly knows this now, but he still stubbornly refuses to apologise to the people he maligned: he is right to do so, he maintains, because he honestly believed what he was saying at the time. Well, so do most of those who are hauled before the courts for defamation, and in the end they are forced not only to apologise for their actions but to fork out large sums of money. But Howard believes his case is different: the truth, as he sees it, sets him free.

But what if, as now appears all but certain, it wasn't the truth - that he knew all along he was lying, but continued to do so for political gain? Well, he's certainly not going to take a lie detector test, which he dismisses as a gimmick indulged in by his most recent accuser, Mike Scrafton, who passed with flying colours.

Howard's lie detector, he boasts, is the Australian people. So once again objective truth is unimportant: if people believe him, whatever he says becomes the truth, however false it may have been when he says it. Confused? Don't be, it only gets worse from here.

But let's submit him to his chosen lie detector: actually, the results are pretty damning. The most recent Morgan poll reveals that a solid 60 percent of the Australian people believe that he was lying. So even by his own extremely malleable standards Howard has committed an inexcusable political offence, and has to go.

But no, not at all. You see, only about half of those 60 per cent actually think Howard has behaved unforgivably. The rest are prepared to shrug it off, partly because they expect all politicians to lie - it's just that Howard is worse than most - but more importantly because Howard's lies told them what they wanted to hear.

All the previous lies about asylum seekers - that they were queue jumpers, illegals, disease carriers, drug smugglers, terrorists - had so demonised the unfortunate boat people that they were expected to be child drowners as well, and if they weren't, somehow it didn't matter because they should have been. It would - at least I hope it would - be going too far to suggest that the punters actually applauded Howard for lying to them, but they certainly don't expect him to resign just because some pesky whistleblower has caught him out.

Understandably, the Labor Party finds this situation difficult to deal with, or even to accept. The immediate reaction was to keep pushing the issue; to recall the senate inquiry, for which Scrafton's evidence fills in the missing link, and parade Howard's mendacity before the world. The two most eager proponents for this course are the former leader Kim Beazley, who wants some shreds of vindication for his loss at the 2001 election, and the inquisitorial Senator John Faulkner, who regards the matter as unfinished business.

For once it was Mark Latham urging caution: sure, keep hammering the line about Howard's constant deceit and untrustworthiness, but let's not get bogged down in the muddy battleground of three years ago. As a Liberal supporter gleefully offered in a letter to The Australian last week, if Labor wants to fight another election on asylum seekers and border protection, the Coalition will be only too happy to oblige, now or any other time.

It is undoubtedly a depressing fact for many that the electorate has become hardened and cynical, not to say bitter and twisted, to this extent, but it is a fact nonetheless. It is a fact John Howard is ready, willing and eager to exploit for the campaign ahead. Labor does not need to, and of course should not, plumb the same depths.

But it would be smart to recognise that, just this once, John Howard has got hold of the truth.