When, as happens so often in Australia these days, one is thrust from the obscurity of senior ministry into the prime ministership, it is considered good manners to introduce oneself to voters, unless one has already long been a fixture in public life, like Malcolm Turnbull. And so it was that yesterday, Scott Morrison introduced himself to the electorate, in a speech entitled “Until The Bell Rings”.
Such introductions entail the difficult task of explaining what you believe in and what your vision for the country is. Difficult because, well, what do you stand for? What kind of Australia would you like to see, beyond some motherhood statements? Julia Gillard lauded hard work and those who set their alarm clocks early, and explained how her party looked with a “jaundiced eye” at “socialites”. Stray beyond banalities and you can sound, well, a bit weird.
Morrison, so far, seems to be both. That unprompted tweet about “gender whispering”? That business with the Aussie flag lapel pins? There’s much of the ostentatious patriot to Morrison. Earlier in the week he rebranded dispatchable power “fair dinkum power”; we await dinky-di distribution networks and fair crack gentailing. Don’t go too Chips Rafferty, PM, or you’ll look like Kevin Rudd, shaking his sauce bottle to derision.
And what does Morrison stand for, his “why” as he put it? “I believe in a fair go for those who have a go in this country.” Behold the double-barrelled Aussie-ism. And then, “Secondly, we’ve got to look after our mates. That’s what I believe.” True, there can be no accusation that the government hasn’t looked after its mates. But when Morrison professes his core values are “a fair go for those who have a go” and “look after your mates”, is he reflecting a particularly empty mind that can’t reach beyond cliches, or hastily focus-grouped key words, or he and his staff’s considered take on what the electorate wants to hear? Or all three?
Morrison’s cultivated image of the Aussie suburban dad, complete with bad jokes and laments that he’ll get in trouble with the wife, is presumably meant to contrast sharply with Mr Harbourside Mansion and his agility and innovation; Malcolm Turnbull was obsessed with start-ups; Scott Morrison only wants to start up the mower on a Saturday morning. But is that it? Is that not a contrivance at all, but the full, or rather empty, reality? Inside Morrison, is there just the fair go, the mateship, that Aussie version of motherhood, albeit without mothers?
Once he strayed beyond banalities, Morrison got tangled. “We have a safety net in this country – to protect people – but it works as a trampoline, not as a snare … our social safety net enables people either to bounce back up and to get back up on their feet, or it provides them with that place of comfort and support …” The safety net that’s a trampoline but also — a hammock? Morrison’s mixed metaphor had collapsed; he needed a safety net for his safety net.
We already knew, well before he urged us all to pray for rain, that Morrison was a man of faith — like Rudd, Tony Abbott and Turnbull. Clearly faith is important to Morrison, who spoke of how good his wife was at remembering Sunday school verses, and to his conception of public life; Menzies, he said, “talked about the importance of freedoms. Of faith. Of religion. Of speech. Of association.” At the end of the speech, Morrison returned to that list, revising the order but leaving faith at the top: “those fundamental freedoms of the individual, of their faith, of their association, of their right to free speech”.
It’s a peculiar myth of the right that religion is under attack; it resonates among old Liberal Party members and News Corp op-ed typists but is irrelevant to Australians who live in the real world of stagnant wages, banking rip-offs and concerns their kids are going to be worse off than they are. Where was wage stagnation in Morrison’s speech? “Those who think that the Liberal Party aren’t interested in pay – we are … I know Kelly O’Dwyer, my Minister for Industrial Relations, which we say proudly, is very keen on ensuring that people get good wages in this country …”
It was a passing mention, among the mateship and the fair go and the freedom of religion. Morrison ought to talk to some real suburban dads, and maybe some mums as well, and find out what’s more important to them. The bell’s going to ring soon, and maybe sooner than he thinks.
What did you think of Scott Morrison’s speech? Let us know by writing to boss@crikey.com.au.
Scrote Morrison’s misguided attempts to assure the population with false jingoist slogans, and stupid US style props is a pathetic attempt to hide the sad reality that he has not actually developed a personality of his own.
He has no ideas of his own, his conscious is prescribed for him by blind faith (authentic??) in happy clapper church services; and as such he has no ability relate to people honestly and certainly no ability to lead.
He is a blank canvas, an empty vessel, spouting stupid platitudes like the ventriloquists dummy he most certainly is….”I’m on your side” “fair go”…. Matey mate mate …oooohh MATE, Sharkeys mate.
A spruiker of anything he thinks people would like to hear, a conformist, a man of misguided faith in a cocoon of lies not even of his own invention.
When he makes a decision against his political interests because of his faith then I will pay attention.
The Aussie dad blather cant mask his love of tax cuts for the big end of town, the protection racket he ran for the banks by shouting down the idea of a RC and his hysterics on the floor of the house whenever climate change policy looked like being revisited.
The real Scott Morrison is the same guy who shut down transparency in refugees, who wallowed in the 2014 budget and its attack on “leaners”, who brought coal into Parliament and who is quite obviously “suspicious” at the very least, of anyone who doens’t fit into the snug vision of ordinariness that his particular brand of Christianity champions.
In summary…I wouldn’t trust the bastard as far as I could throw him.
“Of course I’ll still love you after the election, I’m screwin’ ya aren’t I!”
Paul, perfect comment on the bloke.
A hole in the air.
I just don’t think he’s very imaginative.
Life is good for the Morrisons of this world; he’d like it if people were a bit more like the people at his church and a bit less gay and if poor people would be a bit less annoying about it (they’re probably poor because they offended God anyway), and if unions would all cease to exist, but otherwise steady as she goes. Every change to the status quo in a progressive direction offends him, he’d like to wind back a few of those maybe, but really just locking Australia into cultural stasis will do him fine.
I believe those ‘poor people’ are the most offensive in Scomo’s eyes. If you’re going to choose to be poor, or god forbid poor and gay be discreet about it. Don’t get in everyone’s face about how your economically disadvantaged, blah blah blah, survival of the richest is the neoliberal way. And when your chosen lifestyle isn’t treating you so well, at least have the decency to die well away from the entitled bourgeoisie (the voters). Like under a rail-bridge for instance. And don’t worry we’ll find your corpse eventually and give you a Christian burial, but not before the rats do.
Things were tight. But might was on our side. The ropes were taut and we sat there on the stool like in school in the lucky country, and we were in the blue corner feeling punchy. Over there on the other side of the ring was our opponent in the red corner with laboured breathing as we had caught him. He had a cut above the left eye and we had to show him what a right Australian was and is and the same with his Ms and what was left.
We will show him on our feet in a speech that he won’t forget and we will throw in the Church as well as well as the upper cut and everything thrust in the good book. Look we will grab that mic and you won’t see the footwork, with a foot in here and left there and walk and around we will go, This will be beautiful as we float like a butterfly and sting like a bee. They will see everything from this liberal guy. We grind our teeth, growl, and grimace and then we focus. We have to focus our mind. And we have to love. We have to love. We grab the ropes as there is 10 seconds to go and we stand on our feet, and then and then the bell rings. This is going to be a knockout.
Beautiful Margaret, that could be a poem.
Lyrical Margaret and a much more attractive version of my thoughts about the retail politician from the shire. Bernard cites him as trying to portray himself as a mower of lawns. The reality of Morrison the PM is the spruiker out in front of his stall “have a bloody look at this, just out of date, take one home for the missus today”. He is a shill and a very crafty one. The last time if ever, he was behind a Victor in his thongs would have been when Victor mowers were a thing. He’s bound for glory and we are the chariot on which he rides.
Standing ovation Margaret.