Australia and Asia: Ties that are neither here nor there
Australia and Asia: Ties that are neither here nor there
Eilish Kidd, Contributor, Jakarta
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Australia's Ambivalence Towards Asia
JV D'Cruz and William Steele
Monash University Press, 2003
466 pp
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Historical associations with Britain and America, involvement in
wars from Vietnam to World War II, paranoia about everything from
the "yellow peril" to the "red menace", the infamous White
Australia Policy -- Australia's relationship with Asia has never
been an easy one.
Australia's Ambivalence Towards Asia argues that modern
Australia is tainted by the residual effects of powerful
resentments and fears -- and that certain innate prejudices are
still very much in evidence.
This may not be a startlingly original proposition but
certainly this book weighs into the discussion at a timely
moment.
Prime Minister John Howard's recent determination to
strengthen ties with the U.S. has given rise to the suspicion
that he seeks to drag Australia back to the 1950s. Undoubtedly,
some in Australia do nostalgically recall the days when little
effort was made to reconcile the nation's geographical position
in favor of an obstinate view of itself as simply "white".
This book serves as a reminder of what Australia stands to
lose if it cannot maintain and strengthen its links to Asia.
Australia's Ambivalence Towards Asia scarcely refers to what
has been achieved in Asia-Australian relations in the last few
decades. Actually, its outlook is pretty bleak.
From recent events, its pessimism may be justified. In 1995
the Keating government introduced a program to specifically
promote the teaching of Asian languages in Australian schools.
Last year, the Howard government cut funding to this program.
But D'Cruz and Steele do not credit the individual Australian
with much intelligence, taking aim at long-running TV soaps like
Neighbours and Home and Away that have for years depicted the
typical suburban existence in Australia.
Traditionally, the only Asian character would be a Vietnamese
boy called Dong. Young Dong would be a bit troubled at first (the
aggressive neighborliness of the place being enough to put anyone
off) but would soon start to feel at home, his new friends
teaching him to say "mate" and kick a footy.
Inevitably after a few episodes, Dong would be fondly
farewelled -- to be replaced by the next "exotic" (say a deaf-
mute or an Aborigine).
In a society as multicultural as Australia, such entertainment
offerings run the gamut from the scary to the ridiculous in their
feeble attempts to reflect daily life.
Yet the truth is that most Australians do know this, even
though the authors would probably not agree.
D'Cruz and Steele tell of an immature country with an
unshakable confidence in its own superiority. Anglo-Australians
espouse Western democratic ideals as uncritically as they might
pick up a trashy best-selling novel at the airport. And this
particular "bestseller", D'Cruz and Steele imply, is one that
Australians are eager to pass on, dog-eared and fulsomely
recommended, to its Asian neighbors.
This attitude is particularly insidious because it is often
unconscious. Several examples are given of Australian writers,
politicians and intellectuals -- intelligent left wing types who
"ought to know better" -- betraying such ingrained arrogance.
Mary Delahunty, a well-known journalist and Labor Party MP, is
chastised for blithely remarking: "Democracy is a lot like
motherhood. We are all for it, but in Australia these days we do
very little to buttress it."
D'Cruz and Steele see this as evidence of an assumption:
"Who are the 'we' being referred to here, for whom a number of
political shibboleths are 'sacred and inviolate'? The 'we' here
performs an interesting feat, for while it includes some, it is
also exclusionary; 'we' meaning Anglo ethnic Australians then
excludes all those in Australia who do not subscribe to the
Anglo-ethnic ethos."
So Delahunty is guilty both of an unquestioning belief in the
superiority of Western thought and of marginalizing those who are
not "Anglo ethnic" in Australian society.
But "Asian values" exist in the West and so-called "Western
values" are found in Asia. Even if you accept the premise that
democracy is essentially a Western ideal (many would not) the
criticism of Delahunty does seem a little forced.
Equally, little evidence is advanced to support some highly
contentious claims about attitudes found in Australia's gay
community. Unless you are white, male and middle class, the
authors say, you may not fit in.
Worse, gay people don't seem to care about this exclusionary
behavior: "Curiously Asian MSM's (Men who have Sex with Men)
experience of racist abuse is accepted yet is seen as a crime
without perpetrators, there is a complete unwillingness to
investigate gay racism."
There may be truth in this, but who exactly is supposed to be
"investigating"? One can't help but imagine some sort of gay
board of directors. The argument would be more convincing if the
reader knew where it was coming from (it could be based on
watching the TV show Queer as Folk).
Quite a lot of this book is devoted to an analysis of Blanche
D'Apulget's Turtle Beach. According to Prof. D'Cruz, it was
reading the novel -- about an Australian journalist in Malaysia
-- that first compelled him to write this book.
Turtle Beach, published in 1982, has been the subject of
previous controversy -- most notably in 1992 when it was made
into a film that almost caused a diplomatic incident. Coming
under fire from Malaysian leader Mahathir Mohamad, the Australian
government quickly distanced itself from the production (going so
far as to remove any mention of state funding from the film's end
credits). Malaysia particularly objected to scenes showing the
massacre of Vietnamese refugees by Malaysians -- an event
invented by the novelist but which she maintained is "emotionally
accurate".
D'Cruz and Steele are more concerned with what they perceive
to be the novel's racist undertones. This is where D'Cruz and
Steele have fun and the chapters on Turtle Beach are wittier than
the rest, delighting in such D'Apulget jolting observations as,
"There were about thirty people, all Malay ... and all as similar
as beer bottles on a shelf, within the limits of their sex".
Yet they seem to be doing little more than equating bad
writing with a "bad Australia" -- as though D'Apulget's
shortcomings point directly to the shortcomings of the populace
because, after all, they bought the book.
Perhaps what frightens D'Cruz and Steele is merely the power
of pop culture. A bit like the proverbial pill in the spoonful of
jam, so a dangerous message can be far more effectively delivered
through such a vehicle. Similarly, many have worried that Bryce
Courtney's novels might be indoctrinating the masses in a South
Africa that is more fantasy than fact.
This is certainly a reasonable concern, but isn't an in-depth
analysis of a novel of dubious literary merit rather an easy way
to score academic points?
Another factor worth bearing in mind is that Blanche D'Apulget
ended up married to one of the shapers of Australia's
relationship to Asia -- former Labor PM Bob Hawke. It may be
that this connection has led some to view D'Apulget's efforts in
rather a different light.
D'Cruz and Steele reassure the reader that their objective was
not to demonize D'Apulget and that she is "evidently a person of
good-will".
No one is more filled with good will than the authors
themselves. Their prayer for the future of Australian and Asian
ties is "for less ice at the heart". The book cumulates in the
allegorical hope for Australians and Asians that: "Together they
design and build a bridge and together they cross it."
The sincerity of this cannot be questioned but does stand out
rather sharply from the more generally pragmatic tone of the
book.
Few people would argue with the fact that Australia is
ambivalent toward Asia, but the country's own ambivalence toward
itself is probably just as worthy of comment as Australians are
obsessed with the idea of finding an "identity".
Books such as this will always find a readership among people
anxious to better understand themselves and their place in the
world.
But Australians reading this book may find themselves getting
a little riled. No doubt this is a natural reaction to criticism
(even if, paradoxically, one somewhat agrees with it) but it is
more than that.
This book's relentless tone of moral superiority wears thin
after a while. One is reminded of a dinner party guest who goes
on and on about how bad everything is -- how corrupt, greedy and
basically hopeless -- in an effort to dazzle with the laser
clarity of her perceptions.
Reading Australia's Ambivalence Towards Asia, one could be
forgiven for imagining that the authors are of but a handful of
Australians capable of penetrating the fog of racist ideology.