Political Corrections

with Mungo MacCallum

Crean cursed by Cassandra complex

There are times when Simon Crean must feel like the ancient Trojan priestess Cassandra. These days Cassandra is remembered, if at all, as a prophet of doom; but the real curse inflicted on her by the god Apollo was that she should always tell the truth, but that no-one should ever believe her.

Crean has spent much of his time lately insisting that the truth should matter, and that the fact that John Howard and his ministers lied constantly in the lead up to the war with Iraq is a matter of real concern. But while the goods citizens of Australia may not have actually disbelieved him, they were certainly not going to get excited about the truth.

Media commentators were much more concerned about the opinion polls, which saw Crean sinking yet further into the sunset, and the punters in general simply couldn't give a toss. The fact that the government is blatantly dishonest on almost every level no longer matters to them; after all, they have had several years to get used to it. As long as it doesn't actually hurt them in any way that counts, it can say what it bloody well likes.

So the war hasn't really made Australia safer from terrorism and Saddam probably didn't have weapons of mass destruction and he probably didn't have a people shredder either: so what? The fact is we won, no Australians were killed, someone else has to clean up the mess and so far at least, there have been no further terrorist attacks on Australia. If that last changes Crean may at last get some response to his crusade for truth. As things stand, the voters seem to regard the concept as outmoded, a bit wussy, and definitely non-core.

Incidentally, Cassandra's side lost the war and she became the winner's concubine. Crean should at least escape the latter fate.

This week saw Immigration Minister Phillip Ruddock clock up 30 years as a member of parliament - a full political generation. As the longest serving member of the House of Representatives, Ruddock is unquestionably a great survivor; but for many of his former colleagues he is also a great turncoat.

Ruddock was originally a moderate, one who actually crossed the floor to vote with Labor against racial discrimination. But as his enemies on the right, led by Howard, took control of the party machine, he faced a stark choice: convert or die - well, at least lose pre-selection, which for an ambitious politician is the same thing.

Some of his friends and allies, like Ian Macphee and Peter Baume, kept their faith and were purged. Ruddock agonised briefly, but, as he confided later, he had waited 20 years to be a minister and he wasn't going to give up the chance now.

Thus he became one of Howard's most ruthless henchmen and totally unrepentant about it.

His defenders say that he is only doing his job, but the enthusiasm with which he has dehumanised the asylum seekers, to the extent of referring to a child driven quite literally out of his mind in Woomera as "it," suggests that he actually rather enjoys his role as the government's chief brutaliser.

He still defiantly sports his Amnesty International badge, but he has betrayed the principles for which the organisation stands and which he used to support. A Christian - which he professes to be - would say that he has sold his soul.

Just when we were starting to believe (or at least hope) that Mark Latham was starting to show some signs of real leadership, he once again went feral.

Last week he unveiled an interesting and innovative plan to stimulate saving among the less wealthy. It has its problems, not least that it seems to follow Latham's earlier share-owning scheme to turn the underprivileged into little capitalists whether they like it or not, but at least it shows a touch of courage and vision.

Unfortunately it was totally overshadowed by Latham's vindictive entry into the Keystone Cops brawl going on in NSW between Premier Bob Carr and the club mafia.

Stating that the clubs' mercenary John Singleton was "my kind of fella," Latham chose to align himself with, among others, the great Liberal asset Alan Jones (whom Singleton claims Carr demanded that he pull off - unkinder souls, like cartoonist Mark Cornwall, have suggested Michael Costa already has that job...) and against the state Labor government. In doing so, he has allowed his internal factional vendetta to overshadow everything else.

His colleagues, especially those in the home state, which should be his power base, will not easily forget. Latham remains a long way from the top.

Speaking of Alan Jones, which normally we wouldn't, we note that the organisers of the Rugby World Cup have decided to promote the event in Sydney at through mass plantings of pansies in the colours of the various teams. Jones, of course, is a former Wallaby coach. Is it too much to hope that the pansies were his idea?

Normally I regard Country and/or Western as the musical equivalent of orange shag-pile carpet, but the late Slim Dusty was a brilliant exception. Unlike most practitioners of the style he never affected a pseudo-American whine and his original material, while often unashamedly sentimental, was never maudlin.

As John Williamson said, he was in the great tradition of Banjo Paterson and Henry Lawson. And we are lucky to have Williamson to carry the tradition on.