Nov 2005 #3

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I’m sitting in a bar in Jakarta with my new friend when, without warning, in the middle of our chat he asks, “Why do Australians hate us so much?” I’m stunned into a few seconds of embarrassed silence as my mind races to provide an answer. 

We had been talking about our families. I told him about mine and my adult sons and what kind of work I and my partner did. He told me about his young children and about how he wanted to start a furniture making business. 

“Why do Australians hate us so much?” In my mind the whole hour long conversation prior to this question replayed at hyper-fast speed as I searched for a starting point to respond. His father had been a journalist, he told me, and how he was forever grateful that he had been taught to question and not just accept. He had told me about his other business activities and how his economic fortunes had waxed and waned. Now he wanted to know about our national heart. 

I began by asking him where he got that impression. The internet was one source as was satellite TV and by reading the daily papers. I assumed that as he had developed his impression from a range of sources that he was well enough informed to have a much deeper discussion. So we spent the next hour or more talking and drinking Bintang beer while I tried to defend Australia. 

“We are very much the same,” I began. “Let me ask you, do you think all Indonesians want to kill Australians?” And so began my small role in international relations.  

My friend told me that Indonesia was a peaceful country that had been through a lot. Dictators and the military had made life hard. Corruption and nepotism ensured that a small band of wealthy families had been able to steal the people’s wealth and keep it to themselves. But now things were different. 

People could speak openly and honestly. I told him that was something I had noticed. I told him that from what our papers reported, Indonesians were caught in some mid-twentieth century mentality where speaking out would lead to harsh punishments. No! He said. We are free. If we don’t like something we say so. “What about you? Can you criticise your government?” He asked. 

We then talked about the ways in which governments can force people into silence. We talked about how the new sedition laws will force many good people to remain silent for fear of being arrested. We talked about how, in some places, guns were used to quiet dissent but how in a ‘modern, liberal democracy’ like Australia, guns did not need to be used. The governments just needed to pass a law and the media in particular would quiet their own who wanted to speak out. 

“Ah,” my friend said, “Australia is like we used to be not that long ago.” The words hit me like a brick in the face. That’s right, I thought. Here I was in the most populated country in the region, made up of thousands of islands and which was awakening from a giant slumber that had been enforced previously by guns. SBY was not by any means the most popular of leaders but for my friend the changes in his country since 1998 were, at the least, acceptable. 

We pondered for a while why it might be that Indonesia, so often conceived in the Australian mind as a democratic backwater and economic basket case, was forging ahead with opening up its politics to new parties and that the people were struggling to find new ways to demonstrate their independence while in Australia our government was doing all it could to wind back our ability to speak freely and debate issues of national importance. 

My friend and I sat for a while and pondered the mystery that is modern politics. We celebrated the fact that we were just two blokes trying our best to make our little parts of the world a little more tolerant and open. “But you haven’t answered my question,” he said after some time. Ah, back to that are we? 

“Perhaps we are jealous,” I said. “Your people know how to fight oppression. You fought the Portuguese, the Dutch, the English, and the French. You are a proud nation and you don’t want to go back to what your colonial history was.” “Perhaps,” I said, “it is not the Australian people that hate you but some of our rulers. Perhaps they fear that ordinary people like me could learn from people like you not to just accept what our governments try and force on us but that we have the right to resist. The right to protect our rights.” 

“Ah.” He said. “Australians fear us, not hate us.” We talked about that for a while. We talked about the roots of fear and how fear usually had its basis in ignorance. We talked about how the only way to overcome fear was to expose yourself to the object of fear and come to understand it. “Then you take or leave it.” My friend said. Time was moving on and we had another full day tomorrow. We picked ourselves up and said our good evenings as we went to our accommodation.  

As I reflect on this small slice of international dialogue I come to realise the great shame we should accept as a nation for not protecting ourselves from those who, from within, want to force us into submission and impose 16th century laws on us. What I realised I had not asked my new friend was whether he feared speaking out. I guess the fact that in a public place he seemed quite easy talking politics and criticising his government answers that question. 

I wonder what things will be like in a few years time? Those of us concerned about the Howard governments rush to impose 16th century laws on us fear that our right to dissent will be taken. Journalists, academics and even Malcolm Fraser (who says he might quit the Libs) are concerned that our current crop of ruling elites fear us so much they need to impose draconian laws on us. Perhaps the question we should be asking is, “why do they hate us so much?"