I joined Labor 34 years ago because it was a party of reform rather
than reaction. I joined it because it was a social democratic party built
on two strands of idealism, and on working to resolve the dynamic tension
between them. The first strand was the radical championing of the majority
against closed economic elites. The second was the principled protection
of vulnerable minorities against the tyranny of the majority.
Yet both strands of idealism – most especially the second – are now
deeply unfashionable in mainstream Labor circles. Those who dare speak out
against this top-down correctness are increasingly pushed to the margins
of credible debate. This intolerance is not unique to Labor. At both State
and Federal levels, the Coalition and Labor now fight elections as
quasi-presidential contests. In each camp, open dissent is increasingly
equated with disloyalty. But the consequences are different for the
Coalition and Labor. For the Coalition, this change undermines their
relatively unimportant claim that their members do not formally caucus to
vote as a bloc on all issues. For Labor, the impact of this change is more
profound. It means that the effort of the progressive left to articulate a
larger transformative agenda has been largely abandoned. As a result,
Labor today attracts fewer men and women of passion, intellect and
principle, who are willing and able to generate real debates about the
best way to deliver social and economic justice in Australia and beyond.
Labor needs to look again at neglected parts of its history – and it
is timely to highlight the unique contribution made by Lionel Murphy to
Australian politics and law. His contribution was thoroughly permeated by
the second strand of idealism. Murphy spoke out always for the right to
dissent, the right to be radical, the right to oppose a government, the
right to remain within the Labor and Australian families despite holding
unorthodox views.
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During Murphy's lifetime, that tradition was largely honoured by his
Labor peers, even by those who were his strong opponents (and those who
would never have given him political credit for anything!). Today,
however, things are very different in the party to which Murphy devoted so
much of his too-short life. Today those in Labor who set policy and
tactical directions seem driven primarily by fear. Fear of being
questioned, of being criticised as unAustralian, of negotiating all the
difficult arguments that Murphy took on with such boldness and eloquence.
All this is not just bad for Labor; it is dangerous for Australia. We
live in a challenging and globally fearful time, and we need brave and
thoughtful voices perhaps as never before. We need more and gutsier
questioning of received wisdoms, less spinning of the message that our
various emperors are fully clothed. We need the goad of those who feel
that too much in the present national and world order is both morally
wrong and practically unsustainable, and who insist that Labor work to
generate fundamentally different outcomes.
It concerns me greatly that the individuals who today are prepared to
articulate this kind of challenge to the Howard government have chosen to
remain outside Labor, a party that was once their natural home. One such
individual is Julian Burnside QC, who continues his tireless efforts to
better the lot of asylum seekers detained in Australia's onshore and
offshore camps, and continues to raise accompanying difficult questions
about the strained quality of Australian mercy.
Too many Australians, and too many in Labor, are deaf to Burnside's
disturbing message. We do not want to hear his accounts of the daily
indignities and cruelties perpetrated on the defenceless by a hostile or
indifferent bureaucracy, from its highest to its lowest levels. We do not
want to answer when he asks what human purpose is served by denying the
survivor of a sunken boat, brought from detention in Nauru to give
testimony at a coroners' court in Australia, permission to leave that
court for a bare twenty minutes to attend a memorial service for his dead
family? Or by denying Burnside access to a teenage girl who had attempted
suicide in detention, and was being held under guard at the hospital
treating her, on the basis that there is 'a rule' that detainees can only
see lawyers between the hours of nine and five? We do not want to imagine
the potential implications, for Burnside himself and for Australia's
democracy and its own citizenry, of the fact that Burnside's public
utterances are routinely monitored so that DIMIA may identify possible
inaccuracies. We do not want to see that the mismanagement of the asylum
seeker question is as damaging to Us as it is to Them.
A kind of bell jar has descended in the zones of Australian public life
that hitherto generated noisy, healthy debate on fundamental questions
about liberty and justice. I am an optimist at heart, but I am not so
naïve as to imagine that this problem of silence and denial within my
party and my nation will be easily solved. The bell jar is heavy, and we
will need considerable strength to lift it.
Right now is a good time to start speaking out. Not least because Labor
is about to celebrate the achievements of the largest of its Murphy-era
icons, Gough Whitlam. We increasingly cherish his contribution to
Australian society, and for good reasons. I will conclude with Whitlam's
own words, written recently in a different context, but I would like to
think for all of us – for Australians, for Labor supporters, and for the
men and women, and the little boys and girls, who we lock up behind razor
wire in the name of a greater good:
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... as I look forward to the political landscape of Australia's
future, I conclude with a message of confidence for the party which made
me Prime Minister of Australia. It is the words with which the divine
Dante concluded the Inferno:
"E quindi uscimmo a rivedere le stelle."
(And then we emerged and saw the stars again)