August 25, 2003
Pauline Hanson—Political Prisoner
By R. J. Stove
It must be tempting for Americans to assume that we
Australians are simply Americans with weird accents.
After all, we speak English, sort of. Our TV stations
(oops, “channels”) are awash with the same voyeurist
dreck as America’s: the same Jerry Springer, the same
Oprah, the same Ricki Lake. Our pubescent girls exist,
for the most part, in the same state of
Britneyish semi-nudity as yours. Our troops went in
alongside yours in
Korea,
Vietnam,
Gulf War I, and
Gulf War II. Your President described our Prime
Minister as a
“man of steel.” So we’re basically the 51st state,
right?
Wrong.
Every now and then an event occurs which shatters the
illusion of blood-brotherhood with the Crocodile Hunter
and his compatriots. Contrary to expectations fuelled by
Karl Malden in Amex commercials, many of your own
country’s taken-for-granted privileges stop at the
water’s edge.
These reflections are triggered by a recent
Australian event that Americans will find
incomprehensible: the
jailing of former anti-immigration politician
Pauline Hanson (“icon of [the] far right”,
according to Britain’s leftist Guardian
newspaper). The highly technical charge: counting
members of a supporters group as full-fledged members of
her
One Nation Party, which under Australian electoral
law was then eligible to receive public funding
(subsequently repaid). Judge Patsy Wolfe said this
corrupted and undermined the political process. The
sentence: an astonishing
three years.
To convey the impossibility of this happening in an
American context, suppose
Pat Buchanan (admittedly a far more
intelligent and morally robust figure than Pauline
Hanson) was hauled off from
The American Conservative’s offices in
handcuffs, on the grounds of having misrepresented the
total number of
Reform Party members years before.
Even if he had been found unambiguously guilty of
electoral malfeasance, he would have several shots
remaining in his locker. Little matters like the
First Amendment. The Bill of Rights.
Miranda. A largely free press.
Australians have none of these things. Pauline Hanson
is an Australian. Ergo . . .
It’s not quite true to assert, as many have done,
that she constitutes Australia’s first political
prisoner. During World War II, an eccentric but harmless
publisher named P. R. Stephensen—afflicted by an
obsessive resentment of Jews—spent three years locked up
without trial. There was never, of course, any
suggestion that antipodean Communists should be
punished similarly. A generation afterwards, in 1969,
Melbourne Marxist union apparatchik Clarrie O’Shea
briefly became a guest of Her Majesty for non-payment of
fines. (See an unreconstructed Marxian interpretation of
his jailing
here.)
But what has Pauline Hanson done to deserve three
years in chokey [Oz = slammer] without even the option
of a fine?
It’s difficult now to remember in 2003 that for a
while during the second half of the 1990s, Pauline—every
Australian knows her as “Pauline”—was Australia’s most
influential woman. Correction: make that Australia’s
most influential person.
She certainly didn’t owe her power to the
conventional political processes. Before entering
Federal Parliament at the March 1996 election, most of
even her fellow Queenslanders had never heard of her.
Those who had, knew her as a fairly non-achieving
councilor in the Ipswich municipality. Her own party,
the Liberals, had disendorsed her for lamenting
excessive
Aboriginal welfare benefits. So she won her federal
seat as an independent. Months later, without the
faintest concept of her dam-busting potential, she
uttered—on September 10—the speech that alone rendered
her world-famous. (You can read the whole thing
here.)
Everything else Pauline said or did, and virtually
everything else others have said or done concerning her,
has comprised essentially a series of footnotes to that
speech. No more, no less. The entire bipartisan
Australian consensus of
mass immigration, endless welfare for indigenous
peoples and multicultural palaver received, with her
remarks, its first serious blow.
Not a fatal blow, of course. Nor was Pauline even the
first Federal parliamentarian to attack it. Erstwhile
Western Australian Labor MP Graeme Campbell, who comes
much closer than Pauline to genuine Buchananesque
intellectual significance, had been talking—and
writing—similarly
from the early 1990s onwards But where most of
the media ignored Campbell, they could not ignore
Pauline.
Her own party, One Nation, began in April 1997. It
inspired in its enemies hysteria and, often enough,
outright gangsterism. At the party’s July 1997 public
meeting, in Dandenong, Victoria, one
Keith Warburton (not a One Nation supporter or,
indeed, affiliated with any party) was bashed
unconscious.
One Nation’s biggest electoral success occurred in
the Queensland poll of June 1998. There, One Nation’s
candidates scored 11 of a possible 89 seats. For
establishmentarians, this was scary stuff. So a copy of
the party’s membership list found its way to
The Australia-Israel Review, which the following
July published the list,
shrieking on its cover
“Gotcha!”
Had the New Class but known it, 1998 represented
Pauline’s apogee. In the nail-biter Federal election of
October that year, she lost her seat, although the party
as a whole scored one million votes and a place in
Australia’s Senate.
During 1999 the Queensland parliamentary bloc
disintegrated. One of its members, Charles Rappolt,
killed himself. The control over Pauline
exercised by her minders, David Oldfield and David
Ettridge, aroused ever-increasing rancor among the party
faithful. She dismissed her best and most educated
staffers, John Pasquarelli (her eventual biographer) and
Jeffry Babb (now at the China Post, Taipei).
Today, One Nation exists in a curious legal limbo.
One senator, Len Harris, continues to use the party
name—he refused to take any reporters’ calls about
Pauline’s imprisonment—as do
David Oldfield (in the New South Wales
Parliament’s upper house since 1999) and a handful of
Queensland and Western Australian state legislators. The
same Brisbane District Court jury that found Pauline
guilty also found David Ettridge guilty.
Even the Australian Broadcasting Corporation’s
psephologist Antony Green, of mildly leftist yuppie
persuasion, admitted the eccentricity of the case
against her.
“The charges,” he wrote,
“were of fraud under the
Queensland Criminal Code, including dishonestly inducing
registration of a political party and dishonestly
obtaining benefit in electoral funding. No offence of
falsely registering a political party exists.
Legislation governing political parties did not exist
until the 1980s, and even now provides only a bare
framework. . . There are no rules on preselection, on
the process of forming party policy, or indeed any
requirement for internal democracy. Before the case that
de-registered One Nation, the view was that almost any
structure was valid for the registration of a political
party . . .
“Hanson’s criminal
charges came about as a result of a civil action by an
ex-One Nation candidate, Terry Sharples. In August 1999
the courts backed his claim that One Nation had not had
the required 500 members when registered, merely the
triumvirate of Hanson, Ettridge and David Oldfield as
members. The members’ names put forward had been part of
a Hanson support group.”
[Perils
of Pauline: her breach of 'club' rules was technical
rather than deceit, August 22, 2003, Sydney
Morning Herald]
So the triumvirate gave false data about the number
of members One Nation had! A day that will live in
infamy!
Here is a random sampling of recent Australian
criminals who have been
luckier than Pauline:
Some of Pauline Hanson’s own supporters may have done
her no favors. Was it really necessary for them to
liken her to
Nelson Mandela?
Yet such indiscretions matter less than her career’s
true importance.
When Australia’s Prime Minister John Howard defied
the augurers by winning a
third term in November 2001, he did so partly
because the 9/11 political fallout would have favored
any incumbent. But mainly because he
adopted, not before time, key Hansonista attitudes.
I have
lamented to an American audience before John
Howard’s contempt for Australians’ right to bear arms.
(As bad as Canada or Britain. Americans still have a lot
to be thankful for.) Still, in two respects he has been
a better leader than I for one had dared to hope.
He has ended the twenty-four-year-long Australian
myth that foreign affairs should consist of truckling to
Indonesia’s goons over East Timor. And he has taken
seriously the political, cultural, medical and social
threats posed by
millions of illegals from the Third World. Only the
fear of a One Nation revival permitted him to hang
tough on the immigration issue.
Similarly, the government’s Aborigine policy no
longer consists simply of throwing money at them.
Howard could not, and would not, have done this but
for Pauline Hanson’s example. With only the vaguest
awareness of what she was doing, by simply challenging
them, she brought down the walls of Australia’s
multicultural Jericho.
That is why the chattering classes hate her.
That is why she is rotting in jail today.
R. J. Stove [send
him mail] lives in
Melbourne. His recent book
The Unsleeping Eye: Secret Police and Their Victims
is currently Amazon’s
817,651st-best-selling
volume. His articles have been published in
The American Conservative,
The New Criterion,
and
Chronicles. Neither
currently nor at any past time a One Nation
officeholder, he voted for One Nation precisely once, in
the 1998 Federal Election.