The flag above Parliament House changes direction less often than Aussie politics.
There’s a wonderful old Randy Newman song called ‘Political Science’, which was brilliantly covered by a favourite band of mine, Everything But The Girl. Its opening line goes: “No one likes us, I don’t know why/ We may not be perfect, but heaven knows we try…”
These words, and the song’s title, buzzed around my head this week as the landscape of Australia’s politics shifted following Malcolm Turnbull’s successful ousting of former Prime Minister Tony Abbott in a Liberal Party leadership challenge.
There was a bit of a sniffy article published in the Canberra Times this week about the current ACT government’s ambitions for the territory’s future infrastructure.
As far as I can tell, the newspaper got hold of an ACT government ‘wish list’ for all the things they’d like to build in Canberra over the coming years.
Having visitors is always a good prod to get out and about in your home town and so, when Nanny CBRbound came to visit from England recently, we did a grand tour of all the things Canberra has to offer.
High on our list of ‘must visits’ were the two parliament buildings – I’d been to Old Parliament House once before, briefly, when they held their grand Easter egg hunt for kids, but the place was packed out and I wanted to return on a quiet day to more fully take things in. And despite driving past ‘New’ Parliament House dozens of times, and even running past it during the Canberra 5km, I’d never ventured inside.
A visit to Parliament House has been on my wish list ever since we arrived in Canberra.
I’m sitting here, watching the UK election results roll in. The BBC keeps thanking me for staying with them through the night, but in truth, it’s not much of a hardship from my Canberra desk with beautiful sunshine streaming through the window.
Although I’ve been gone for ten years now, I still retain an interest in UK politics. However, I don’t vote any more – largely on the ethical ground that it feels unfair to vote for a government that I’d never have to live under.
My interest exposes a strange fact of expatriate life – that, while you retain voting rights in the country you have no intention of returning to, without citizenship, you get no say in the government of the country that takes and spends your taxes.
One of the things that Canberra excels at, is placing people at the heart of the Australian story.
There are museums aplenty, frequent ‘one off’ exhibitions, and numerous monuments to what it means to be a part of this nation’s history.
The Australian War Memorial, part tourist attraction, part lesson, part pilgrimage.
Australia’s Prime Minister, Tony Abbott, gave a speech to the Australian parliament last week, largely in response to the security questions raised by the Sydney siege a few months ago, but also in recognition of the lone-gunman attacks in other countries such as Denmark, the trickle of Australian nationals making their way to fight with Islamic State in Syria, and the highly publicised call for attacks on western shopping malls.
A few days before, Danish Prime Minister Helle Thorning-Schmidt made a similar address in Copenhagen. But, while Abbott’s speech focused largely on security measures, Thorning-Schmidt included an important additional point: “We have to understand what has hit us, but we must insist on acting as we do. Think and talk like we want to. We are who we are.”
The shootings in Copenhagen shocked Denmark.
One of the things I’ve taken a great interest in since moving to Denmark, is the way mainstream media creates and shapes the way a place sees itself.
For a long time, I’ve taken the view that, whereas the UK media largely adopts the “we’re all going to hell in a handcart” view of things, in Denmark, there’s a far more positive national self image. Continue reading
One of the most interesting conversations I ever had in Denmark went a bit like this…
Friend: “So what are your politics?”
Me: “I guess I’ve always been a bit of a socialist.”
Friend: “Well you might have been a socialist in England, but are you a socialist in Danish terms?”
It was a brilliant question because I had never really thought of politics as being relative, depending on which country you live in. But of course, my friend was correct. The beliefs that placed me left of centre in the predominantly right-leaning UK, may not have been so radical after all in full-on socialist Scandinavia. In fact, in local terms, my views may even have been right of centre. Continue reading