Thomson: Howard's warmth not meant for display

AT the beginning of the festive season, Melbourne Catholic Nguyen Tuong Van was hanged in Singapore. Was it right and proper then, during Advent, to greet our friends with an invitation to share in merriment, to say "Merry Christmas"? Perhaps such salutations would have revealed an ugly lack of feeling. In a recent David Marr article in the Fairfax press, "Death of compassion", the subheading read: "There were vigils and calls for a minute's silence. But in the end Australians applauded the hanging of Nguyen Tuong Van."

Federal Liberal backbencher Bruce Baird had agitated for a minute's silence to give Australians an opportunity to "express their compassion for Nguyen and opposition to the barbaric sentence". Prime Minister John Howard did not accede to calls for a minute's silence.

Perhaps, it may be argued, our diminished capacity to feel correctly has been imposed on our nation by that man Howard and his "relaxed and comfortable" supporters. But what then are we to make of this: "We're not as harsh on welfare as the Americans are. I would never want us to be. Their jail populations are testament to the failure of some of those harsh policies."

John Howard said this during his address to the National Press Club on October 7 last year, just before his re-election. In response there were no "Howard slams Bush" headlines. Yet it surely was a brave call. The Australian Prime Minister, an enthusiastic member of the coalition of the willing, was stating in plain language that callous welfare policies in the US push the needy into jail.

Why did commentators miss this rhetorical challenge? A fundamental reason is that it has been decided that Howard never says anything sophisticated. He is no Gough, he is no Bob Carr, it is chortled. He is ordinary. He is suburban. And this, it has been decided, is a bad thing

The lust for sophistication has deafened many in the Canberra press gallery. But others have listened and watched closely. Robert A. Jensen is president and chief executive of Kenyon International Emergency Services. His company was called in after the first Bali bombings to assist the Australian Government. "I saw Prime Minister Howard walk into the family area, take off his tie and talk at length to the families," Jensen told journalist Julie Macken. "He didn't have much information to give them, but he gave his time and heartfelt care. I greatly admire him for that."

But surely, asked Macken, he would have expected nothing less? Jensen replied: "In contrast, I saw another country's ambassador turn up surrounded by his security people. When the families ran up to get help and information, his security people pushed them out of the way."

And what some professional carers said to the grieving families was woeful. Jensen overheard, more than once, the phrase "I know how you feel". "That," he said, "is the worst thing you can say to someone in this situation. How can someone possibly know what that person is feeling?" Howard didn't utter a variation of "I feel your pain" for public consumption. On the contrary, Phil Burchett, the father of one of the missing, Jared Gane, revealed to the press that Howard hugged him and said (in private), "We'll get the bastards who did this."

The import of what Howard said this year about Aboriginal Australians also has been missed in the main. But Noel Pearson has listened well. He calls it a "tectonic shift". In his address to the National Reconciliation Planning Workshop in Canberra on May 30, Howard said: "Reconciliation is about symbols as well as practical achievement ... We also believe that reconciliation should be about acknowledging those symbols we can agree on. But I think we have to recognise that if all we do is focus on symbols, we will have failed ... Recognition of symbols needs to go hand in hand with practical action."

Howard has been consistent in his depiction of the "conspicuous compassion" of symbolic sorrow as self-righteous grandstanding. "If I can speak very bluntly," he said, "I think part of the problem with some earlier approaches to reconciliation is that it left too many people, particularly in white Australia, off the hook. It let them imagine that they could simply meet their responsibilities by symbolic expressions and gestures rather than accept the need for an ongoing persistent rendition of practical on-the-ground measures to challenge the real areas of indigenous deprivation."

So what ought be in our hearts at this time? Emile Durkheim understood religion as expressing a "happy confidence". It is a challenge to those who wallow in the mire of miserable suspicion, convinced that you must indulge in sentimental anger to be good. In response, we could say "Bah humbug" but, more radically, "Merry Christmas" and, this weekend, "Happy New Year".

Newshawk: http://www.napnt.org
Pubdate: Tues, 27 December 2005
Source: The Australian (Australia Web)
Author: Paul Comrie
Website: http://www.theaustralian.news.com.au