Marie Bashir & Australian pride
On Friday, I had the privilege to sit in the audience of our NSW Governor Marie Bashir at Government House, which is a magnificent building in the Botanical Gardens I didn't know existed. She began her address to our group of high school students in leadership positions with a brief history of Australia, drawing inspiration from leaders of the past like Winston Churchill and Sir Henry Parkes.
What struck me though was her immense pride of Australia and our history, which is uncommon in our comparatively self-deprecating national culture. She would ask us what the most important moment in Australian history was, or if we knew what Parkes famously said, and be greeted with overwhelming silence (though admittedly that may have been partly due to awe)
The way she spoke about how our nation was founded without civil war (though interestingly not mentioning the plight of indigenous Australians since colonisation) and how we never provoke conflict on the world stage, would present as well-preserved naivety in different hands. However, she didn't fail to touch upon her concerns about both Australian and broader society - homelessness, juvenile detention, and climate change fuelling a malaria epidemic to name a few.
Above all, she had a sense of unflagging hope for the future, an idealism which she self-conciously went on to justify it along these lines; "I know it's an ideal, but what's wrong with aiming for an ideal world? If we can't do that here, in such a rich nation, then where?"
I realise this may seem like an ass-kissing exercise written by some ardent, old-fashioned monarchist (what of it), but I think Her Excellency Professor Marie Bashir AC, CVO embodies a functional idealism and dignified Australian pride that is lacking but could be of great benefit to our society.
Take Chris Lilley for example. His highly successful 'mockumentaries' depict a "heightened reality" (via) that captures the subtleties of Australian characters. When approached by American producers, citizens of a country characterised by a sense of exceptionalism, he refused. I'm going to choose to interpret this as a triumphant example of a unique Australian pride veiled by self-depracating satire.
So next time you cringe at the prospect of mandatory history class (we've all been there), I challenge you to consider The Female Eunuch and Pauline Hanson as a product of healthy democracy like no other. We are, after all, just a fair dinkum lot.