\u27Millennial Dreaming\u27

In July 1893 Australia\u27s first great socialist evangelist William Lane, accompanied by a band ofloyal disciples, departed Australia to found a socialist utopia in Paraguay. The story ofN ew Australia - the name given to the communal colony that the settlers established in Paraguay - has long exercised a fascination over Australian historians. I The reason for that enduring resonance is, perhaps, at least in part, because the New Australia saga, both in its genesis and outcome, powerfully evokes the unfulfilled dream of Australian socialism. If it is the figure of Lane who personifies that lack of fulfillment in the late 1890s, then it is Jim Cairns who best does so at the end of this century. While these two socialist visionaries inhabited vastly different worlds, their final paths are in some regards depressingly similar. More than eighty years after Lane embarked for Paraguay, Cairns, too, set out to build an alternative community in the hope of providing an inspirational model for the rest of society. The social experiment conceived by Cairns was on a far less grand scale than Lane\u27s, and the site for the alternative community was not half way across the globe but southern New South Wales. Yet, like Lane, Cairns\u27 resort to utopianism came within the immediate context of profound political disappointment. Also like Lane, there had been pre-existing signposts to a developing millennial style utopianism in Cairns\u27 thinking.2 Similarly, Cairns\u27 retreat to utopianism was ultimately rooted in a highly idealised view of human potential, as well as a grandiose self-conception of his own destiny as an agent of the liberation of that potential. Inevitably, though, the most compelling parallel is that, just as with New Australia, the community initiated by Cairns was to be beset by conflict and controversy. This paper explores this previously neglected chapter in Cairns\u27 life

Keeper of the faith : Jim Cairns and the search for a good society

Reassesses the public career of James Ford Cairns and his impact on Australian society over the past 50 years. Particularly focuses upon the development of Cairns\u27 thinking on social change and locates that development within the context of the Labor Party\u27s ideological evolution since WWII

When the bright ideals start to fade

The longer a government remains in power, the less it is willing to be accountable, writes PAUL STRANGIO THE John Howard-Peter Costello leadership rivalry is moving towards a denouement of sorts. While the outcome is unpredictable, it is worth posing a question that goes beyond the standard political calculations over which man will ultimately prevail. Is there a point when a government’s longevity ceases to be compatible with the best democratic interests of the nation and, if so, are we approaching that time with the Coalition government, no matter whether led by Howard or Costello? In part, the answer to this question turns on the capacity of a government to renew itself both in terms of ideas and personnel (it’s relevant to remember that by the 2007 election Costello will have been near the apex of executive power for nearly a dozen years); while there is also the critical issue of whether there is a worthy alternative government. The latter consideration, however, can be a Catch 22: the longer a party is confined to opposition the more its capacities for government atrophy, as occurred to the ALP during its extended wilderness between 1949 and 1972. Putting these issues aside, there is perhaps the even more fundamental matter of what the prolonged exercise of power does to a government and those who run that government. Trading on the Prime Minister’s skilfully crafted image of ordinary commonsense, of always “being in touch”, the Coalition has been careful to avoid the impression that it wields power - to use Howard’s words - capriciously or arrogantly. The prime minister recently proclaimed that no Australian government had been more accountable than his. Yet shrewd analyses of the Howard government have drawn attention to the fact that, contrary to its purportedly liberal philosophy, the Coalition has vigorously deployed majoritarian power at the expense of minority interests and enthusiastically centralised governmental power. Peter Costello’s recent federal reform designs are consistent with this direction. His proposal for a further accumulation of financial power in the Commonwealth under the rubric of efficiency (following hard on the heels of the Coalition’s industrial relations grab for power from the states) compromises a primary rationale for federalism, which is to devolve power and so avoid the scenario of an omnipotent central government. In tandem with this, the Howard era has witnessed a sharpening of a trend towards greater concentration of authority in the executive and, most particularly, the prime minister’s office. This is a phenomenon abetted by systemic changes to the operation of politics ranging from public service reforms to make the bureaucracy more responsive to incumbent governments (critics call it politicisation), the proliferation and entrenching of a like-minded adviser class whose first duty is to do the bidding of the executive, the hollowing out of political parties which once acted as a brake on politicians, and media reportage of politics that often concentrates on the utterances of leaders to the exclusion of much else. Importantly, these developments are not only funnelling power to the top of the executive, but potentially choking off the flow of alternative ideas to governments. The danger is that power becomes institutionalised in and around a government. In a broader sense, ageing governments have a habit of growing impatient with accountability processes. The Howard Government arrived in office in 1996 promoting a new code of conduct for ministerial responsibility, a commitment now long gone. It is not alone. In Victoria there have been criticisms that, in a retreat from the democratic undertakings made during the heady days when Steve Bracks signed the Charter of Good Governance in 1999, the Victorian government’s standards have lapsed in its treatment of parliament and freedom of information requests. There is also a fundamental pressure on modern incumbent governments to keep control. Partly because of the inexhaustible appetite of the media, politics is now played at breakneck speed, with governments engaged in permanent campaigning and locked in an incessant cycle of news management. High office is akin to being in a perpetual state of warfare, endlessly optimising the next advantage or warding off the next crisis. It’s a high anxiety game in which the imperative to manage can easily slide into an urge to control, to seize more power. Have we been witnessing this with the Howard government? Consider some recent examples such as its continued stacking of the ABC Board, its changes to - or what critics allege is the weakening of - the Senate committee system and amendments to the electoral system that seem driven by partisan interests. Finally, we should also worry that over time the generals of today’s relentless, hyper-political combat succumb to a kind of dehumanising political shell shock. Geoff Gallop, the recently retired Western Australian premier, has spoken of the unremitting stresses and “trick” performances that accompany high executive office. He also revealed that, following his resignation because of depression, he received a call from former prime minister Paul Keating, who talked to him about the challenge of sustaining an “inner life” in the hothouse world of leadership politics. It’s a disquieting thought, and as compelling a reason as any to suspect that it is unhealthy for any leader or government to stay around too long. • Paul Strangio is a senior lecturer in the School of Political and Social Inquiry at Monash University. This article first appeared in the Age. Photo: iStockphoto.co

Victoria: Labor's last stronghold

In Queensland Anna Bligh is on the nose; in New South Wales people are ready to go the Labor Party with electoral baseball bats. Western Australia: forget it. And as for the feds, the faceless men squandered a winning lead faster than you can say 'pink bats'. But Victoria is different: this is a State in which there was a swing towards Labor. Sure, the swing was 0.9 of the two-party preferred, but in this climate that's not bad. In fact, it was the highest two-party preferred ALP vote since records began in 1949. Which means Victoria was the only state standing between Tony Abbott and an outright Coalition victory. Why is that? Why is Victoria so Labor-friendly? And with the State facing the polls in November, will Victoria's ALP continue to buck the national trend? The National Interest will place Labor's prospects under the microscope, with one eye firmly only the possibility of yet another Greenslide in Melbourne's inner suburbs

Ordinary is now the way to be

Have Australians lost faith in a politics that is larger than themselves, asks Paul Strangio REFUGEES from an earlier political era, Paul Keating and Jeff Kennett occasionally lunch together. Presumably the former prime minister and premier dwell on past achievements, console each other about their rejection by unappreciative publics and scratch their heads at the direction of politics federally and in the states since they departed the parliamentary arena. Strange though this arrangement might seem at first blush - a former Labor warrior and Liberal larrikin breaking bread together - the source of the kinship between Keating and Kennett is not so difficult to divine. Theirs is a mutual admiration that developed in the early 1990s. Back then Kennett had brought the Cain-Kirner era to a close in Victoria (Keating always had a thinly disguised contempt for John Cain and the state Labor government’s Keynesian backsliding during the era of emerging neo-liberal orthodoxy), while Keating had not long wrested the prime ministership from Bob Hawke. The tyro heads of government recognised similar qualities in one another. They were grand-vision types, leaders who set out to forge rather than read public opinion, or as Kennett later put it: “We were both focused on big picture rather than small, on outcomes rather than politics.” Both leaders seemed most alive when in full combative mode, smiting those who dared challenge their judgement. Both were men of style, sartorially striking; they had an undeniable flamboyance, and in a previous age they would have been described as “flash”. If Keating and Kennett were bold riders, we are now deeply immersed in an era of a very different style of political leadership. In a recent study of the phenomenon of uniform Labor leaders in the states and territories, academics Brian Head, John Wanna and Paul Williams proposed that a new model of political leadership was evolving at the subnational level. The authors summarised the leadership style of the present crop of premiers and territory chief ministers as follows: “They are modern day ‘ordinary populists’ - purposely non-elitist, a little mundane, attempting to be ‘everyman’ or ‘everywoman’. They are not classically charismatic; instead, they have a natural common touch. They have cultivated the image of the normal, ordinary, relaxed, accepted leader attuned to his/her community.” The same study distinguished between this leadership style and that which prevailed in the postwar era of the so-called “boss” premiers (leaders such as Henry Bolte in Victoria, Thomas Playford in South Australia, Eric Reece in Tasmania and Joh Bjelke-Petersen in Queensland). These, too, were populist leaders but with a darker edge, usually gruff rather than urbane, and with a powerful streak of authoritarianism. It is hardly coincidence that many of the traits described by Head et al are instantly recognisable in Prime Minister John Howard, suggesting that the model of “ordinary populism” is supreme at both the centre and periphery of our political system while the heroic leadership model of Keating and Kennett is very much out of favour. Certainly Howard and Steve Bracks in Victoria seemed to consciously craft their government leadership styles to present to the electorate as the antithesis of their respective predecessors, Keating and Kennett. Peter Beattie’s fourth consecutive election victory in Queensland is further evidence of the ascendancy of the approachable, “everyman” leadership model. Indeed, Beattie probably has no peer in striking an image of familiar sincerity. His mastery was evident in the speech he gave on Saturday night claiming victory. As if to underscore that hubris has no place in the make-up of the new model leader, he was determinedly humble, almost apologetic about his achievement. Contrast this to Keating’s “sweetest victory of them all” declaration after his defeat of John Hewson in 1993, or Kennett’s ever so modest assertion after his 1996 re-election that “there has been no government in Australia since the war that has dared to govern in the way in which we have”. Political scientists have long wondered about the symbiotic relationship that exists between leaders and their publics and questioned whether particular styles of leadership suit particular climates. For example, it has been surmised that a strong, decisive leader will normally have greatest resonance in dark and threatening times, while the inspiring leader is likely to have greatest appeal when the zeitgeist is expansive and optimistic - for example, Whitlam in the late 1960s and early 1970s. What can we tell about the present national psyche from the contemporary dominance of the “ordinary populist”? What is it about our collective temperament that we seem to prefer leaders who mirror us and punish those remotely too big for their boots? Is it that, as John Howard has argued, Australians have rarely been so comfortable with themselves, self-confident and optimistic? In short, we trust ourselves to lead. The more pessimistic interpretation is that of an inward-looking, circumspect public mood in which we have lost faith in the possibilities of a politics larger than ourselves. Whatever it is, there is a fundamental paradox surrounding the triumph of the ordinary leader at a time in which politics is becoming less an ordinary sport and more a spectator sport. The major political parties are declining as grassroots organisations and we seem at a loss to find means for alternative and meaningful participation that goes beyond the artifice of talkback radio. As politics becomes the preserve of a narrowing professional class, it is perhaps inevitable that their marketing solution is to package the system in leaders that appear no different from us. • Paul Strangio is a senior lecturer in the School of Political and Social Inquiry, Monash University. This article first appeared in theAge. Photo: Maartje van Caspel/iStockphoto.co

Political parties

Across the globe voters are losing faith in political parties - from both the left and the right. But why do we have parties and was there ever a time when politicians were independent and not bound by party rules? Guests Stephen Ingle - Professor History and Politics at Sterling University David Karol - Associate Professor of Government and Politics at the University of Maryland Paul Strangio - Associate Professor of Politics at Monash University Publications Title: The British Party System: An Introduction Author: Stephen Ingle Publisher: Routledge Released: 31 Mar 2008 Title: Confusion : the making of the Australian two-party system Author: Paul Strangio and Nick Dyrenfurth Publisher: Melbourne University Released: 31 Mar 2009 Title: "Political Parties in American Political Development" in The Oxford Handbook of American Political Development Author: David Karol Publisher: Oxford Handbook online Released:30 Oct 2014 Credits Presenter: Annabelle Quince Producer: Annabelle Quinc