I have tried to switch off from following Australian politics in the last few years and this depressing essay profiling the rise of Peter Dutton, the man who now leads Australia’s Liberal (Conservative) Party, has merely reinforced that impulse.
Since the election of John Howard back in 1996 and his successful tapping into the fears and prejudice of so-called ‘aspirational’ outer-suburban mainly white voters, Australian politicians’ horizons have shrunk further and further.
Howard was a pre-boomer whose constituency was that old pre-WWII generation of Australians never comfortable with the changes resulting from mass immigration and the progressive cultural revolution of the 60s and 70s.
These changes were epitomised by the rise of a new class of well-educated urban professionals in the Whitlam era, when progressive politics was at its zenith. The 80s-90s governments of Hawke and Keating combined social liberalism with neoliberal economics that successfully wedged the Liberals.
Then Howard reversed the formula, fusing neoliberal economics with conservative social policy that acted as kryptonite to Keating’s agenda of a modern, multicultural Australia, reconciling with its indigenous people, moving towards a republic and seeking its destiny in the fast-growing economies of the Asia Pacific.
Since 1996 (now nearly three decades ago), that vision has faded as many Australians, spooked by Keating’s vision of the country unmoored from its Anglo-American roots and made insecure by the very market-driven policies he espoused, began to cling more and more to what they thought was familiar territory.
It is this reactionary era which serves as the historical background to journalist Lech Blaine’s essay on the rise of Peter Dutton, the latest Liberal leader to till the soil of fear and division first seeded by Howard. But as Blaine notes, Dutton should be understood not just as an ideological offspring of Howard but also as an expression of Queensland’s notoriously racist and regressive politics. Taking an even longer-term view, Blaine casts Dutton as the latest manifestation of the mindset born of Australia’s 18th century beginnings as a penal colony.
“The historian Manning Clark described Australian public life as a contest between the enlargers and the punishers,” Blaine writes. “Those with a craving for a freer way of being. And those clinging onto the authoritarian mindset of the convict colony. Dutton is a punisher. His desire to discipline the vulnerable comes from a visceral place. For John Howard, punishment was a means to power. For Dutton, power is a means to punishment.”
Dutton is indeed a punisher. He virtually boasts of the scars he carries as a former Queensland policeman. The early part of the essay looks at his frustrations in trying to put rapists and sexual deviants behind bars, thwarted by what he saw as virtue-signalling middle class lawyers and the ‘grievance industry’. Blaine also spends some time charting Dutton’s own family history, which is steeped both in the punisher and enlarger traditions in Queensland’s sorry past.
Like the Trumpists and other right-wing authoritarians now dominating politics around the world, Dutton uses cultural resentments against urban ‘elites’ to build a new constituency out of the former left-wing ALP’s old working class, suburban and regional constituency. This is analogous to how the Republicans in the US, formerly the voice of the business and industrial elites of the north exploited the Democrats’ embrace of Wall Street and Silicon Valley to harvest the votes of the resentful white working class of the south and mid-west.
The blame for this phenomenon can be cast as much on the old social democratic parties’ embrace of neoliberalism (which dumps more and more risk formerly underwritten by the government onto the shoulders of working people). The conservatives parties, which also back those policies, then use the sense of insecurity among the working class to fan culture war issues and get them continuing to vote against their own economic interests. It’s a strategy that keeps working, which explains Trump and others. Yet the parties of the nominal ‘left’ - instead of taking the gloves off and fighting the uber capitalists - continue to cling to an imaginary ‘centre’ (which is nowhere).
To be fair, in fighting endless culture wars, Dutton is only doing overtly what Howard - and his other disciplines (Abbott and Morrison) did covertly. He has thrown away the dog whistle and embraced the fog horn instead. And you’d have to say it is working for him. The more he is derided by urban liberals as a neo-fascist and ‘thug’ (as Malcolm Turnbull described him), the more he revels in his chosen role as a truth teller for the forgotten people.
With the help of a campaign of disinformation by the shadowy think-tank-funded Advance Australia and the most cynical co-opting of ambitious Aboriginal politician Jacinta Price, Dutton destroyed Labor PM Anthony Albanese’s referendum for constitutional recognition of Aboriginal Australians and the creation of an indigenous ‘voice’ to parliament. Since the defeat of the referendum, Albanese looks greatly diminished - not that he ever carried much clout anyway. Alongside the pain of persistent inflation and higher interest rates, Labor looks at risk of losing its slight parliamentary majority in the election due in 2025. The Voice was poorly handled from the start and Albanese walked into Dutton’s trap by aligning himself with corporate leaders pushing the ‘woke agenda’.
The most interesting part of Blaine’s essay questions the strategic thinking around Dutton’s anti-‘elite’ pitch. In sneering at the university educated and urban liberals, he may have won some support in Labor’s old outer-suburban heartlands, but he essentially has sacrificed any chance of winning back the seats the Liberals lost at the last election to professional, middle-class women candidates running as independents (the ‘teals’). But with his racist, Sinophobic, anti-immigrant pitch, he may also have misunderstood the nature of the urban fringe seats he is courting.
“There are 45 inner-metropolitan seats. Dutton is happy to leave Labor, the Greens and the teals to squabble over them,” Blaine writes. “He is concentrating on the ninety-six outer-suburban, provincial and rural electorates. This strategy makes great mathematical sense if you ignore the ethnic diversity of outer-suburban Sydney and Melbourne and the monoculturalism of the Coalition.”
But then Dutton knows he probably can’t win in 2025. His goal is to reduce Albanese’s government to minority status, depending on the Greens and Teals for support. And then, like Abbot before him, he could make a subsequent pitch for an end to the ‘chaos’ of informal coalitions and a return to ‘strong man’ politics.
My own view on the authoritarian right is that its days are numbered. Its agenda, as former Liberal Party pollster Tony Barry mentions in Blaine’s book, is pitched at my rapidly disappearing generation, the Baby Boomers. Millennials and Generation Z (my kids’ generation) despise the Liberals as they have been shafted by policies that forestall climate action, that expose them to greater economic insecurity and that destroy the possibility of them ever owning their own home.
The greatest irony is that Dutton - supposed enemy of the ‘elites’ and friend of ‘ordinary’ Australians -is an extremely wealthy property speculator who has made tens of millions of dollars exploiting the hugely inequitable tax lurks that reward those who making fortunes flipping houses. He has produced nothing and has no positive ideas for Australia beyond the pipedream of nuclear power (in reality yet another way for the fossil fuel industry to delay effective action on climate). He has shafted our kids’ economic futures and now runs war-mongering campaigns against our biggest trading partner, China. His entire schtick is built on kicking down and fear of others.
The sooner his stain is wiped from history the better.