Sometimes I really don’t pay nearly enough attention to things. I read an essay in The Monthly – something I ‘sort of’ subscribe to (I bought a subscription for a friend, and I sometimes read articles from it) and the one I read must have been written by this guy – but I assumed it had been written by the guy who wrote The Game, about Scott Morrison. The shorter version of this essay was a long and involved discussion of why ScoMo, the leader of the Australian Conservative Party (confusingly called the Liberal Party) had changed Rugby codes (from a rah-rah team to a working class team – being from Melbourne, I know nothing about Rugby, and not even by choice) and how much this clear lack of loyalty annoyed Albo (the leader of the Labor Party – the left out the U in labor is because, well, ‘you’ don’t belong in the Party and you might as well know that from the get-go). Albo was particularly pissed off because he has been a supporter of the Rabbitohs since birth – perhaps even earlier, I don’t pretend to understand that shit – and changing sporting codes would be like changing religions or going through an unintended sex change or something. I ho-ed, I hummed, I didn’t pay as much attention to who wrote the piece as I should have.
Then I read The Game and was waiting for the discussion on the Sharkies (ScoMo’s adopted team) to start and it never did. Well, it sort of did – but not ‘really’ like it had in the essay.
I’m not sure the version in the essay was in this ‘extended essay version’ either, but I figure this is the person who wrote the original essay.
The idea of a larrikin needs explaining. Australian myths and most Australian characters have penises. It is a requirement – not in the least bit optional. Australia is a masculine country: a drunken, gambling, slap-ya-on-the-back, f-kin top place for mates, mate. All of our myths are about blokes. If women appear at all, then they are there purely for a root (sexual intercourse) or to cook something not too effeminate, and almost certainly involving steak and potatoes. A larrikin is both male and somewhat anti-authoritarian – this is probably what distinguishes him from the other male lead character, the mate. The larrikins in this essay are somewhat less than properly anti-authoritarian – proving that the convicts were accompanied by prison guards. In fact, a central theme of this essay is that what a larrikin now means has been appropriated by the Liberal Party to mean ‘Howard’s Battlers’ – that is, tradies who now earn over $150,000 a year (placing them in the top one or two percent of the population) and who now vote as consistently Liberal as their fathers had once voted Labor. The old ‘working class’ have become the new negatively geared CUBS (Cashed Up Bogans) who were told in the last election that if they voted Labor they wouldn’t be allowed to drive their monster-truck anymore, but would have to drive tinkertoy eCar – and that would mean no more weekend, since electric cars don’t have the power to pull a boat.
What is interesting in this essay is how the Liberals are now better at imitating bogans than the ALP – despite many of the ALP actually being bogans, well, if a lawyer can really be a bogan. A bogan is someone from the working class in Australia – essentially, it is the Australian equivalent of Chav in the UK. The Bogan river being as far west as you can go in New South Wales while still remaining in the state, and the further west you go in Sydney, the more working class you are likely to become – so, a bogan means to be as lacking in class as it is possible to be. It has been adopted as a term of endearment by the people who everyone else would define as bogans anyway – what Bourdieu would refer to as choosing what has already been chosen for you.
Australia will be going to the polls in a couple of months. I’m hoping (but anything but certain) that the ALP will win. I am hoping this mostly because I believe the greatest existential threat to Australia (in terms of climate change, competent government, not having a war with China, surviving the pandemic) is another 3 years of the Liberal-National Party coalition. But this will be a fight to the death between ScoMo (a nickname he literally had made up for him, probably following input from a dozen ‘focus groups’) and Albo. The irony, as pointed out by the author here, is that ScoMo has essentially stolen Albo’s identity. The main interest in the election – other than the question of whether Australia will have a future – is which of these two gentlemen will play a better version of a bogan larrikin, the pretender or the person who has lived that persona all his life.
This essay is a brief history of the blokes who have been in charge of the two major parties in Australia since Whitlam – although, Menzies does get a mention in passing. I think what is most interesting in this is how the leaders have defined their masculinity and how that masculinity has become increasingly ‘boyish’ over time. I find it almost impossible to imagine Paul Keating attending a football match (of any code). But now, I can’t imagine anyone becoming Prime Minister of Australia who didn’t follow football – or, at least, pretend to? Even Malcolm Turnbull got into trouble for saying AFL was more exciting than Rugby. It is hard to imagine anyone would give a stuff about this – but in Australia today this is what we have degenerated into. Electing someone not interested in football would be like the US electing an out Atheist.
The author makes it clear that ‘larrikins’ have never really been all that they were cracked up to be. Lawson, our true-blue Aussie poet and short-story writer of the working class, we are told twice, asked a sketch artist to give him thicker wrists. I like a lot of Lawson’s writing, but it also fits within the bushman, mateship, ever so softly-spoken homoerotic myth of Australian maleness – the sheep weren’t the only ones nervous at night when the drovers lay under the starry dome.
Australia needs to reinvent itself, it needs a vision of being male that is more inclusive than sucking piss and watching footy – but with both sides of politics struggling to claim the larrikin myth, I guess that isn’t likely any time soon.