As Australians reeled from the news that Gough Whitlam had been replaced as prime minister by Malcolm Fraser at the whim of an unelected official acting in the name of a foreign-born monarch, comedian Garry McDonald inserted himself into the action.
In character as gormless TV reporter Norman Gunston, the comedian mingled with the assembled politicians, journalists, lawyers and academics on the steps of Parliament House. Then he turned to the impassioned crowd that had gathered on the forecourt. He shouted: ”Is this an affront to the constitution of this country?”
”YES,” they cried back.
”Or was it just a stroke of good luck for Mr Fraser?”
Confusion gripped the assembled, who were well and truly ready to be revved up. ”NO”, some cried.
”Thanks very much, just want to know,” Norman shrugged and shuffled off.
Forty-seven years on, have we witnessed another ”affront to the constitution of this country?” The week ends with Scott Morrison’s antics in naming himself into five (at last count) extra portfolios gripping the nation – or at least its political class: those politicians, journalists, lawyers and academics. You might even say the revelation of his antics represents a stroke of good luck for those who get paid to pontificate on such matters.
Sure, what ScoMo did was weird. Unnecessary. And on Thursday he rubbed it in, making light of the matter on Facebook. Disrespecting that sacred space. What a heel.
But is this ”scandal”, this ”horror show”, this ”outrage” (as some outlets breathlessly describe it) really worth all the angst? Remember Australia is dealing with rampant inflation, energy insecurity, a crisis in aged care, floundering Medicare, some scary geopolitical stuff, and, still, Covid.
Yes, Morrison’s secrecy was unforgivable. He is a truly baffling character. Maybe he pulled his kids aside one day and boasted, ”Look girls, Daddy can appoint himself anything he wants in the government. Look! I’m treasurer now, and Mr Josh doesn’t even know.”
Just joking. He didn’t do that (or did he?).
That’s not to excuse Morrison, only to seek a little perspective. He certainly owes an apology to David Hurley for making the Governor-General an unwitting accomplice to his secrecy. The office of the governor-general, the unelected official mentioned earlier, has been free from controversy since those events of 1975, yet this week Hurley and those closest to him would have been forced to contemplate his resignation.
And a lot of Morrison’s colleagues won’t look at him the same way again, although he was already on the nose with them for blowing the election.
But seriously, outrage? An outrage is when a nation lets its citizens sleep on cardboard at bus shelters, or when its citizens in remote areas die 20 years early from kidney failure, or when (as MWM points out), resources multinationals don’t pay tax. Outrage is not when its elected leader pulls rank on some colleagues. Even if he didn’t tell them – and us.
Morrison may not have coined the term ”Canberra bubble” but he certainly ran with it. It’s a term that has some veracity as the bubble ends a week having failed to focus on the real challenges facing this country.
Yes, some ordinary Australians are interested in this matter. But how much of the media reaction is just easy peasy light and breezy journalese (under Albanese! Who is the actual PM now, remember) in lieu of the issues mentioned above?
The pronouncements by some of the bubbleheads present a masterclass in pomposity. Australia has more self-styled comedians than ever, but we could do with a Gunston now.
”At least they’re talking about me,” ScoMo told the kids this week. Just joking. Or did he?
Mark Sawyer is a journalist with extensive experience in print and digital media in Sydney, Melbourne and rural Australia.