Easter is a time rich in mythology. This is perhaps why the Fairfax media chose to run this fairytale by chief political correspondent, Mark Kennedy, over the weekend: Simply Put, Gillard is Indestructible. In it, Kennedy argues that Labor’s best shot at the next Federal Election is to play up Prime Minister Gillard’s “toughness” ... seemingly because, well, it works in America. He humbly writes:
“Strength in leadership is not a preoccupation unique to the great republic, however ... if Labor strategists are not thinking about strength and toughness right now, they should be.”
It’s a remarkable piece in that it masquerades as analysis when in fact it’s based on two myths shakier than a toddler yipped up on an Easter Egg chocolate rush.
The first myth is that Gillard is actually a “tough” leader at all. On this issue, I won’t comment further here as it has already been beautifully dissected and debunked by Michael Koziol, writing for The Spectator, in his piece: How Does Julia Sleep? Koziol writes:
“‘Tough’ might be an appropriate descriptor of Gillard the political operator, but it would be the wrong one to characterise her leadership. A tough leader, I believe, would not have capitulated to Tony Abbott and forced Kevin Rudd to dump the Emissions Trading Scheme. A tough leader would not have surrendered to the big miners and renegotiated the mining tax into insignificance, breaking the budget in the process. A tough leader would prosecute the case for Labor’s compassionate stance on asylum seekers, rather than racing the Coalition to the bottom of the scrapheap. A tough leader would stand up to the unions instead of abiding loyally on every question, from 457 visas to gay marriage.”
The second myth at the heart of Kennedy’s fantasy is that “toughness” exists as some kind of universal virtue for a political leader. That it is part of the fanciful (and engendered) “great leader” archetype and a panacea to other failings. The reality is that there is no default quality or style for a political leader. What matters is not the characteristics of the leader per se, but how their qualities, style or persona speak to the electorate at a particular time and place. It is how these qualities make us feel about ourselves – our attitudes, our futures, our pasts and our place in the world – that really matters. Our political leaders forget at their peril that it isn’t who they want to be, but what we want and need from them that determines their success.
“Toughness” plays out in the United States as a consistently valued characteristic in its leaders because much of American culture is based in an entrenched narrative of persecution. From the Pilgrims to today, it has been the US vs The World – a nation that grew up fast in a nursery of conflict and paranoia. This is why intelligent people in the US will talk, straight-faced, about the right to bear arms. This why US foreign policy at its core is little more than “to re-make the rest of the world in our image”, through fair means and foul. This is why the US leads the way in UFO sightings and conspiracy nuts. In this environment, “toughness” in a leader brings comfort – it says, “Read my lips, your fears are validated but you are protected”.
Take me to your leader.
Australian culture does not exist on an entrenched narrative of persecution or, indeed, on any such singular theme. We are a nation too immature, too multi-faceted and too lucky to be defined consistently over time by a single narrative. Ours is an evolving cultural story that changes and grows like a developing child. At any given time, one narrative may dominate the mainstream, but our history shows that such a narrative will be transitory. We have been characterised at different times by narratives of dependency and, equally, of defiance, of generosity and, too often, of fear.
More recently, our culture was perhaps best seen through a prevailing narrative of guilt. We achieved a level of sophistication as a nation to allow self-reflection. We recognised that we were very much the lucky country and our luck had been built on exploitation. Depending on our world views, this recognition was internalised or felt to be (unfairly) thrust upon us.
Former PM, John Howard, read this narrative and exploited it to his great success. He was no inspiring or charismatic leader, nonetheless he made us feel better about ourselves: we felt better about being self-centred, better about being “a little bit” racist, better about prizing material gains and better about being unrepentant for our past. Howard placed his hand upon our furrowed brows and absolved us – this was his genius and his crime, and both were greatly rewarded.
Through this lens, it can be argued that Gillard’s great failing has simply been a failure to understand what the electorate needs from its leader now ... a blindness to the prevailing cultural narrative and the corresponding relief she needs to provide. Hence, we see this churning identity, as she casts about in the dark trying on personas ... but nothing connects.
This, in part, may be due the sense that the prevailing narrative is shifting again. Guilt is giving way to gratification and even fear. But we are in the process of change. There is flux. At this precise moment, we are a nation of uncertainty. Thus, what the electorate wants in its leader is stability – not survivability and crisis. On that score, Gillard is mortally wounded and playing the “indestructible” card would just bring attention to the instability that enshrouds her leadership – both in a political and identity sense. More importantly though, it again puts the focus on the wrong place: Julia’s story, rather than ours. Sorry, Julia, we’re voting for us, not for you ... [fades to static]
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