February 20, 2017
According to the latest available census, about 60 per cent of Australians answer to being Christian. In reality, few seem prepared to defend it.
For example at Christmas time, rather than commit micro-aggression or other offences, Christians have meekly surrendered to self-appointed arbiters of cultural standards by watering down their Christmas celebrations.
Traditional greetings are sanitised, while carols in government schools and nativity scenes in shop windows belong mainly in the past. On Christmas Day, Foreign Minister Julie Bishop tweeted, “Wishing everyone a happy holiday”. She may be sensitive, but that’s hardly defending the faith.
Australia Day is worse than Yuletide when it comes to giving the cultural elite something to cry about. It represents “invasion day”, the moment in our history when the First Peoples were dispossessed by white settlers. The implication is that had Arthur Phillip not established a colony in 1788, an island continent two-thirds the size of the US would still be home to just half a million indigenous people. By extension, from the First Fleeters on, the rights of Aboriginal people should eclipse those of all other Australians. Because they don’t, rather than celebrate the fine achievements of 229 years of nation-building, Australia Day should be moved or observed as a day of shame.
In reality, the demonisation of Australia Day has nothing to do with Aboriginal welfare. On the contrary. It is about the politics of division and victimhood relentlessly pushed by the fifth column intelligentsia in our midst. Like the dishonouring of Anzac Day, the primary intention is to undermine our national pride, to besmirch our achievements and values and to question the legitimacy of our heritage. To rob us of self-belief.
John Howard describes this as the “black armband” view of history. It is the version favoured by schools and universities. It teaches that most of Australian history since 1788 has been little more than a disgraceful story of imperialism, exploitation, racism, sexism and other forms of discrimination.
Where will students find the counterfactual to these exercises in self-loathing? Who will speak for our most cherished freedoms?
Certainly not those in authority. Government leaders appear to have no issue with neo-Marxist movements finding sanctuary in our academic and cultural institutions. Nor do they seem to care that the taxpayers they purport to represent are unwittingly funding the very radicals who intend to destroy their way of life.
Author Giles Auty, in “Finishing Marx” (The Spectator January 14, 2017) reckons: “The so-called ‘Long March’ envisaged by Gramsci, Marcuse and other Marxist hardliners has taken Western society and academic life about as far as it can possibly go in a misguided and largely destructive direction.”
Perhaps. But the “Long March” is well advanced and has successfully infiltrated our judiciary, law enforcement agencies and, even the defence forces.
US President Donald Trump is pushing back. He is reshuffling the order of politics and, while his focus is America, his strident attack on self-serving establishments is receiving knowing nods around the Western world. Trump is post-ideology. His politics are unconventional. What is unambiguous is that he is a game changer — a nationalist who puts American interests and values first. Unlike recent predecessors, he is not beholden to the politically correct urban elites or mainstream media establishments, many of whom pretend his election is illegitimate.
Despite the theatre, the demonstrations at home and abroad are not about the legitimacy of Trump’s presidency but the threat he poses to the comfort zones of all those he says have “for too long reaped the rewards of government while the people have borne the cost”. These hitherto protected urban elites are right to feel threatened.
Within hours of his inauguration, President Trump ordered a regulatory freeze, the removal from the White House website of Barack Obama’s climate action plan, and US withdrawal from the Trans- Pacific Partnership. He plans spending cuts of $US10.5 trillion over 10 years and to dramatically shrink the bureaucracy. The National Endowment for the Humanities will be scrapped entirely. The public broadcaster will be privatised.
Seeking to distance himself from Washington, Deputy Prime Minister Barnaby Joyce boasts “We are not the United States of Australia” and pledges to stick to Australia’s renewable energy targets, regardless of America’s intentions. Tough talk. But some world leaders will see merit in Trump’s new vision of governing. They will re-order their priorities and put national pride and economic prosperity ahead of today’s costly, fashionable diversions.
Those who don’t can watch their living standards fall as they slide down the world’s competitiveness rankings.
For eight years, the Obama administration concentrated on divisive, left-liberal identity politics rather than American exceptionalism. It failed to understand that, to ordinary people, a united culture and self-belief are more important than class division.
Trump is Obama’s enduring legacy. Right or wrong, he is the inspiration to millions of people in the West who feel abandoned by their elected representatives. When their values are mocked, they feel threatened.
Our political leaders are unmoved. They still align with the Obama administration.
To them, national pride is a dangerous concept, capable of causing offence to protected minorities. Canberra would rather offend Robert Menzies’ “forgotten people”, the middle-class backbone of the nation, whose traditional values he observed, are not “to be found in luxury hotels and the petty gossip of so-called fashionable suburbs or, in the officialdom of the organised masses. (They are) to be found in the houses of people who are nameless and unadvertised.”
These forgotten people are starting to feel the Trump vibe and to notice that Pauline Hanson is prepared to say “Merry Christmas”.