Should political foes be friends? We who live in Western Democracies are quick to answer with a resounding ‘yes’.
This is a historical anomaly, but civility in our politics has supposedly served us well.
Tranquil notions of times gone by when the union leader could enter the town’s local grocer, enquire about each others families, transact, and wish each other well all the while vying for the same local city council spot are lovely, because they imbue a sense of safety in the political process and the transfer of power.
What occurs when political movements, and those within them, become too close for comfort?
When amiability becomes friendship?
As political party movements become increasingly small, missing the semblance of a mass movement that they once had, the shared experience across political opinion becomes more shared between them even if political viewpoints are diverging. The conservative may despise the socialist and vice-versa, but their life circumstances and experiences echo each other closely more so then the average citizen.
Their supporters are weird for caring deeply about politics. They all slog out many hours letterboxing, making calls, standing in a polling booth. They are more informed and versatile, by definition, than an uninformed voter, and a politically knowledgeable individual would prefer to talk to someone similar informed but of a different persuasion because it’s more interesting, less surface level, and because politics ultimately starts as an interest before anything else.
There are less people interested in politics, and more interactions between the political camps particularly in organised party politics.
One of the most uncomfortable experiences I have had has been attending a mock parliament – a fake parliament which gives a chance for the youth of the major parties to sit opposite each other when real parliament is out of session and to have a chance to shout at one another. Nothing is said of consequence and the party in actual government will be declared the winner as a formality. The evening serves as an opportunity, or poses a risk, depending on the way you look at it, for the executives of the youth wings of the major parties to assign a pecking order among their peers. The speech’s content is drivel, the delivery timid, the result is getting the opportunity to be shouted at. Following the evening both camps will head on down to the local pub for a beer.
Being involved in youth politics is not like being involved as an adult. The individual from an opposing party that you see on election day you may never see again. For the youth politician, you’ll see each other at mock parliaments, student elections, youth parliament programs, internship programs – there are many touchpoints to form friendships.
This is all to say, that I am uncomfortable to think that our next generation of supposed ideological warriors will be best buds with their opposition in the chamber – in real parliament this time. Civility is one thing, being a friend is another thing. Fond memories will lead our politicians to pull punches, and promote the establishment and entrenchment, even further, of the political swamp. The blob feeds on mutual interest, but most of all comfort. It is not normal for our political leaders to not despise each other and I am increasingly convinced that this is a leading cause of Australia’s two major parties being indistinguishable – that and the continued acquiescence of weak conservative leadership. Those who share more in common with their supposed political enemy than with the Australian public at large will service the former over the latter.
I will look with increasing suspicion upon those politicians who are particularly chummy with their own counter-parts outside their political camp. Politeness ought to be respected. But those who would spit upon your beliefs and make a career and lifestyle ought not to attain the designation of friendship. It cheapens the concept and worsens our politics.
