Oct 2005 #3

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So Mary and Fred have had a nipper. Whoopee! Great timing too. Just as the government gets stuck into promoting its return to the salt mines industrial relations proposal and as the sport’s calendar is clear of footy and ruggers, along comes little What’s His Name. Why all the fuss? A baby born to rule is what he is. Now don’t get me wrong, the little bugger is, as they say, not responsible for his own birth. That was a little out of his control. To Fred and Mary, congratulations and commiserations as you enter that great adventure called parenthood.

The fact that the child was born into a patriarchal, anachronistic, throwback to the middle ages, sexist institution called a ‘monarchy’ should not be forgotten. As the first born he automatically gets first dibs on the crown once daddy tires of the position. If he had been a she, well, the picture would have been somewhat different.  The birth of a royal daughter to Japan’s Crown Princess, Masako, did not overturn the historical precedent that only men could take the throne. While not quite the media darling of “our Mary”, Masako has been reported to have come close to a nervous breakdown as the public turned on her ‘failure’ to produce a suitable dick and two balls heir.

But, in the frenzy of the media, “our Mary” has been showered with praise and from the moment her handsome prince swept her off her feet, she and the media have been keen to canoodle on the side. Now with little prince What’s His Name here, we can only await as the Australian media turns from Harry and Bill to the new bub and his life. No doubt Packer or Murdoch will do a deal to see the royal turf shared and I look forward the blockbuster, “When the Waters Broke: The birth of Prince What’s His Name”, coming to a screen near you.

At the same time Mary was doing some relaxation breathing and Fred was finding solace in a brown paper bag, I wonder how many babies died in Northern Pakistan or Kashmir because they couldn’t get antibiotics to treat their wounds obtained during the earthquake? I wonder how many nameless, faceless babies died in Iraq because the so called “liberators” have destroyed fresh water supplies? I wonder how many new fathers could only sit and watch as their once beautiful wives died with their babies still in their bellies because some Western supported tyrant would rather take the bribes than distribute the food aid.

I wonder how many Australian women from the expensive suburbs looked at the weekend papers and saw the comments by that great defender of equal rights, Tony Abbott. He has now said that one way to stop abortions was to bribe women with cash incentives. Not content with giving every new mum $3,000 regardless of their own personal wealth on the birth of their baby, Abbott now proposes that the cash be doled out at 14 and 32 weeks. This down payment method he says, might reduce the abortion rate. I wonder if he proposes to take the money back if the women spontaneously aborts after 14 weeks or if the baby is still born? 

If we ignore for a moment the emotional side of Abbott’s ridiculous argument we find that it is embedded in exactly the same ideological argument that What’s His Name has been born into. Abbott, whose own sex life was for a brief moment splashed across the front pages, belongs to that dangerous group of men who believe women are chattels to be owned by men and that their children are to be compliant and subservient. This is the central plank of most of the so called ‘men’s groups’ that have sprung up in recent years. However, their lineage goes back to pre-history and development of religious thought.

The modern day groups, like their historical brethren, believe that women are some sort of lessor being that needs to be protected and shielded from the world and that, indeed, their place is in the home. For many of these groups this belief is claimed to emanate from a much higher authority, some form of god. Many of these groups are permeated with some sort of quasi-religious ideology that declares that the authority hierarchy goes god at the top, men next, then women and at the lowest, children.

If this sounds a little like fancy on my part just read some of the proclamations by these groups. We are supposedly fighting a war against terror and oppression in far flung corners of the globe, yet right in our midst these mullahs are allowed free reign and no-one in the mainstream media seems prepared to examine them. Actually, I retract that. The mainstream media does examine them but as if they are some sort of curiosity or attempts to place them so far from the centre that they are portrayed as crazies. Then along comes Tony Abbott and his comments which feed right into the mindset of these groups. Abbott confirms (in his own mind at least) that no matter how hard they try, women will always be at the mercy of men like him.

What isn’t being talked about is the underlying ideology that Abbott is espousing here. That ideology, as noted above sees the world as some sort of ‘clockwork orange’ in which the order of things is predetermined. That order, as already noted, is that women are subordinate to men and that for their own good they had better respond in like manner. While honour killings are rare in Australian society and I’m sure Abbott would ‘tutt tutt’ them, he espouses the same ideology.

Mary and Fred’s little boy has been born in to the modern world. A place where the values that permit the fawning of the public press and the outpouring of largess at the expense of us mere tax payers are being challenged. I’ve read history books which report that at the time of a royal birth, village elders would impose taxes on the villagers which would often break them. These taxes went towards winning favours and if successful would lead to the chief moving up the power ladder. Today the presents are offered for much the same reasons. It’s the old ‘mine’s bigger than yours’ syndrome that the power hungry fall into. Tasmania offers to send a couple of Tassie Devils and Bracks offers a restored tram. In the homeland bonfires burned, parties were held and ordinary people were caught up in the euphoria. Yet at what cost?

As un-named children die in their thousands each day, this little boy will be a ‘no expense spared’ child. But maybe there is hope. Maybe this little boy will be allowed to study the effects of poverty. Maybe he will be offered an education that includes readings of history and encounters with the struggles of the people he will one day rule. Maybe What’s His Name will be able to escape the patriarchy that constrains him and find a way to use his wealth and power to build a better world.

A world in which women are not treated as chattels and children are forced to submit rather than explore. Perhaps the little prince will grow beyond the fairytale and take up  a role as an ambassador for the poor and under privileged. Maybe Crown Princess Mary will encourage her son to visit her home state and walk through the ever diminishing forests and encourage him to champion conservation, something she has been very loath to speak on. Maybe she will kayak down the Leven River near where I grew up and see the devastation caused by industry and ‘development’. Maybe What’s His Name will find a life defending the defenceless and voiceless.

Maybe the hope of our future is to be found in the birth of one person who can rally around him or her the strength of the people and rise to lead them against the tyranny that for years has allowed them to be called “your Royal Highness” and in so doing create the conditions under which a truly new world order will be founded.