Hope.


I cried while I watched Obama’s acceptance speech, and half the world cried with me. Tears flowed from New York to El Paso, from Sao Paulo to Berlin, from Nairobi to Hobart. I watched the feed on Youtube, which allowed me to hit pause when I felt the tears coming. And so I sat looking out my window into the drab, drizzly day, thinking about how far we’ve come, and about how fast the world is changing. For a few moments I was happy. My body was filled with uplift and joy.

Obama is a symbol of change and that’s why people are so moved by his story. He is the strange and improbable fruition of Martin Luther-King’s vision, a black man who has been truly judged on his character and not the colour of his skin, and it really does seem like a miracle still that a black man is president-elect of the United States of America.

Mopping my eyes, I turned back to my computer and watched as the cameras zoomed in on Jesse Jackson, that lion of African-American politics. He was crying too, and watching this brave man struggle with his emotions while his dreams materialised on stage before him, was a powerful thing. Clearly, this election means a lot to African-Americans, and to minority races in general all over the world. But a question can be fairly raised: why has it moved me so profoundly, who is the most snow-white of Australians?

Firstly, it was wonderful to see the joy of African-Americans, who have fought for equality with such dignity, and over such a long period. In itself, that’s enough to bring tears to the eye. But the election result was also important because it symbolises the end of an era that will be remembered as a terrible time for politics in the West – a time when the leaders of both the US and Australia lost their moral compasses and did terrible things. And that’s the special significance it has for me, because my whole adult life has been lived during this period.

The first election I really noticed was that of 1996, when Howard came to power. I was 15. That election marked the beginning of a period in politics dominated by the right of centre, as first Tony Blair, and then George Bush, were elected, and then re-elected time after time by electorates that seemed immune to the lack of compassion they displayed, that seemed not to care that their leaders were building up resentment overseas and entrenching class divisions within their own borders.

In Howard’s Australia, the political rhetoric moved from Keating-era dreams of a ‘multicultural Australia‘ towards talk of ‘protecting our borders‘, and ‘fighting terrorism.‘ Oddly, Howard seemed also to believe that it was wrong to apologise to the Stolen Generations for the trauma and disruption to their lives caused by the misguided policies of his own and previous administrations.

The recent passing of Howard and Bush allow us a moment of hope – a moment in which to hope that their era is over. Sure, Rudd might be no leftie, but I don’t feel as deeply alienated by him as I was by Howard, and his apology to the Stolen Generations (and to Aboriginal Australia more broadly) was a beautiful moment in Australia’s story. Any approach to governance can handle only so much contradiction, and seems like the neo-con approach finally reached its limits - the current economic catastrophe was caused by under-regulation, while the Bush doctrine is a complete failure even by its own lights, and there seems to be increasingly widespread recognition that workers need some protections from capital.

To me, it feels like Spring has finally come after a long dark winter, a winter that’s lasted my whole adult life. Now, for the first time since I’ve been able to vote, I sense an open-heartedness in Australia and in the world. I know that things won’t change overnight, but for the first time, I am filled with hope that they might change soon.

And that’s a wonderful thing.