Limits to power - Page 2
From Griffith REVIEW Edition 3: Webs of Power
© Copyright Griffith University & the author.
Written by Gerard Henderson
IT'S MUCH THE SAME TODAY. NOW, HOWEVER, IT IS CONSERVATIVES – not social democrats and Marxists – who use the word "elite" or "elites" as a term of abuse. The trend started in 1995 with the publication of Christopher Lasch's The Revolt of the Elites: And the Betrayal of Democracy (Norton). Much of the material in his book had been previously published. However, the first three chapters were fresh – including the second titled "The Revolt of the Elites". Lasch (1932-1994), an American philosopher, died shortly before the publication of what became his most noticed work.
In his introduction, Lasch moved quickly into a discussion of elites and culture wars – terms that have become much used in Australia since the election of the Howard Government in March 1996: "The culture wars that have convulsed America since the '60s are best understood as a form of class warfare, in which an enlightened elite (as it thinks of itself) seeks not so much to impose its values on the majority (a majority perceived as incorrigibly racist, sexist, provincial and xenophobic), much less to persuade the majority by means of rational public debate, as to create parallel or "alternative" institutions in which it will no longer be necessary to confront the unenlightened at all."In "The Revolt of the Elites", Lasch argued that the "chief threat" to "Western culture" in our time "seems to come from those at the top of the social hierarchy, not the masses". He defined elites as "those who control the international flow of money and information, preside over the philanthropic foundations and institutions of higher learning, manage the instruments of cultural production and thus set the terms of public debate..." He depicted a growing tension between those whom he identified as the elites and the masses: "Simultaneously arrogant and insecure, the new elites, the professional classes in particular, regard the masses with mingled scorn and apprehension. In the United States, "Middle America" – a term that has both geographical and social implications – has come to symbolise everything that stands in the way of progress: family values, mindless patriotism, religious fundamentalism, racism, homophobia, retrograde views of women. Middle Americans, as they appear to the makers of educated opinion, are hopelessly shabby, unfashionable and provincial, ill informed about changes in taste or intellectual trends, addicted to trashy novels of romance and adventure, and stupefied by prolonged exposure to television. They are at once absurd and vaguely menacing – not because they wish to overthrow the old order but precisely because their defence of it appears so deeply irrational that it expresses itself, at the higher reaches of its intensity, in fanatical religiosity, in a repressive sexuality that occasionally erupts into violence against women and gays, and in a patriotism that supports imperialist wars and a national ethic of aggressive masculinity."
Lasch did not live long enough to witness the impact of what the Americans call 9/11 on the US. Even if his assessment of the new elites/masses dichotomy was correct in the mid-1990s, it does not seem to have survived the terrorist attacks on the US of September 11, 2001, intact. In fact, many members of what Lasch described as the "professional classes" supported George W. Bush's war against terrorism in Afghanistan and the Bush Administration's key role in the decision taken by the Coalition of the Willing (US, Britain, Australia, Poland) to invade Iraq and overthrow Saddam Hussein's dictatorial regime.
YET THE CHANGE IN THE AMERICAN PSYCHE AFTER 9/11 did not stop the importation into Australia of the pre-9/11 thought of Lasch – in the form of David Flint's The Twilight of the Elites (Freedom Publishing, 2003). According to the author: "The term ‘elite' is ... a useful, although mildly pejorative, reference to the way of thinking now common in the media, in some university faculties and in the arts. It is to be contrasted with a traditional thought, whose advocates are clearly in a minority in those circles, but who represent and enunciate the commonsense, pragmatic views of the vast majority of Australians."
Whereas Lasch defined elites with respect to professions, Flint links the term to attitudes. He does not say precisely what the elites stand for – but is emphatic that they are opposed to the "pragmatic views of the vast majority of Australians". There is also a left-right divide. According to Flint, "elite opinion is the opinion typical of the upper-middle-class liberal – that is, liberal in the American sense." In short, elite opinion "tends to be left-wing on social and cultural issues". Consequently, a person can be with the "vast majority" and against the elites – irrespective of wealth, education, position or other forms of status.
Take Professor David Flint AM, for example. According to his entry in the Who's Who in Australia 2003, he was educated in Sydney, London and Paris, has degrees in economics and law and became a tenured law professor. Flint is a member of Sydney's exclusive Union Club and in 1997 was appointed by the Howard Government to the full-time job of chairman of the Australian Broadcasting Authority – one of the most influential positions in Australian public life. He is known to be on friendly terms with the Prime Minister and to attend the occasional social functions at Kirribilli House.
To some, Flint's education, honours, position and social status would typecast him as a member of the elite or, more accurately, an elite. But if elitism is in the eye of the beholder, then your man Flint is not a member of this particular entity. Rather the elites are those with whom he is in political disagreement – irrespective of their education, wealth or social standing.
In other words, Flint maintains that a poorly paid leftist librarian is one of the "elites" – whereas a multi-millionaire who supports John Howard's social agenda is not. This situation follows the self-serving definition that elite opinion equals left-wing opinion. So, what is left these days? David Flint maintains that individuals who are "left-wing on social and cultural issues" embrace the following agenda. They (i) support a republic, (ii) favour reconciliation, (iii) oppose Australia's involvement with the Coalition of the Willing in Iraq, (iv) are weak on border protection, (v) advocate a significant increase in Australia's population, (vi) tolerate abortion and (vii) do not oppose divorce.
A quick examination of Peter Costello's position demolishes Flint's case. The deputy Liberal leader and Treasurer (i) favours an Australian head of state, (ii) backs the reconciliation process and (iii) is pro-immigration. But he is very much a conservative on most other issues. Costello also supports border protection and strongly backs Australia's military deployments in Afghanistan and Iraq. Yet, in Flint's all-or-nothing approach, Costello emerges as a member of the leftist elites on account of the fact that he fits within the categories of Flint's elites model. Bizarre indeed.
There are some 70 references to "elite" or "elites" in the first chapter of The Twilight of the Elites. However, only a few names are named. Former prime minister Paul Keating is there, plus Labor frontbencher Wayne Swan – along with journalists Maxine McKew and Anne Summers and authors Tom Keneally and Don Watson. Even businessman Phuong Ngo gets a mention – in spite of the fact that he is serving a life sentence for murder within the NSW prison system. It is difficult to envisage anything less elitist than serving time in maximum security. Later on, Flint names a few more "elitist" names: journalists and ex-journalists Phillip Adams, Stuart Littlemore, David Salter, Mike Carlton, Jennifer Hewitt, Mike Seccombe; authors Robert Hughes, Phillip Knightley, Germaine Greer, Donald Horne; academics Helen Irving, Mary Kalantzis, Alan Gilbert, Mark McKenna, Henry Reynolds; and political activists Greg Barns, Chris Sidoti, Bob Brown, Natasha Stott-Despoja, Peter Costello, Malcolm Turnbull, Andrew Robb.
WHAT UNITES VIRTUALLY ALL OF DAVID FLINT'S "ELITES" IS THAT – during John Howard's political ascendancy – they are not even close to people in authority. The exceptions are Peter Costello and, to a lesser extent, Malcolm Turnbull, Andrew Robb and Alan Gilbert (in his manifestation as vice-chancellor of the University of Melbourne). That's it. In other words, according to Flint, the overwhelming majority of those who comprise the elites in Australia are distant from government and, consequently, have little influence in so far as policy outcomes are concerned.
This is the kind of problem that invariably arises when commentators think in – and proclaim – slogans. Flint identifies the problem when, in The Twilight of the Elites, he criticises the left for engaging in their "favourite weapons" of "ridicule, labelling and branding". Yet this is precisely what Flint is on about with his use of the label "elites" to brand his political opponents.
Flint's attack on the elites – confused as it is – helps to demonstrate the fact that Howard does not command all he surveys. Take the so-called culture wars, for example. The Howard Government appointed the ABC chairman (Donald McDonald) and all the members of the current ABC board (except for the staff-elected director). The ABC board, in turn, has appointed the managing director – initially Jonathan Shier and, subsequently, Russell Balding.
Following its election, it soon became clear that the Howard Government wanted two essential changes at the ABC. The Prime Minister called, perhaps unwisely, for the appointment of a "right-wing Phillip Adams". By this he meant that the ABC would benefit from at least one conservative, or centre-right, presenter to balance the plethora of leftist presenters on ABC television and radio – for example, Phillip Adams, Terry Lane, Michael Cathcart, George Negus et al. It seems that Howard also believed that the ABC TV 7.30 Report would benefit if its long-time presenter Kerry O'Brien moved on. For his part, then communications minister Richard Alston wanted a total revamp of the ABC complaints procedure. Neither Howard nor Alston got his way. What's more, on the available evidence, Adams and O'Brien seem more entrenched than ever in their seemingly tenured positions. Which suggests that whatever the relationship between the Prime Minister and the ABC is, it is not one of powerful versus powerless.
Flint – despite his taxpayer-funded high salary, education and contacts with government – rails against the "elites". Some commentators run a similar line while using somewhat different labels. Where Flint sees elites, others identify the "New Class" (Andrew Bolt, Michael Duffy, John Stone) "Clever People" (Michael Barnard), "Cultural Gatekeepers" (Ross Terrill), "Commentariat" (Christopher Pearson), even the "Middle Class" (David Penberthy) and "They" (Les Carlyon). In all cases, the label throwers come from similar social circumstances as their leftist targets – all are well educated, of at least comfortable means and able to have their views reported in the media.
The concept of "the elites" is flawed if, by this, Flint and friends believe that there is one leftist elite that controls the political and cultural debate in Australia. In fact, there are many members of many competing elites. In this sense, Flint is a member of a cultural/political elite – and Phillip Adams is a member of another like entity. It's much the same with how others see power. According to Andrew Clark, John Howard is all-powerful. It's just that this is not how the Prime Minister and his supporters see it. Those who make it to inside the cabinet room are well aware of the limitations on power within a system of representative government. Saddam Hussein once possessed real power; Howard (and Keating before him) exercises authority – to a greater or lesser extent.
The problem with the analysis provided by many commentators is that they have little idea about how government – as distinct from politics – really works. On March 23, 2002, Andrew Clark wrote an article in The Australian Financial Review where he alleged that, in 1995, John Howard had hosted "secret meetings with close associates in the party, business and various institutes" during which "a list" of political enemies was drawn up – with a view to bringing about "the removal of targeted people in the public service, academia, ABC and the High Court". The Prime Minister replied (AFR, April 2, 2002) that there were "never any ‘secret meetings' in 1995, or at any other time, nor were any lists drawn up". Howard complained that these "serious conspiratorial allegations" were not checked with him or his office. This was not just a case of poor journalism on Clark's part.
More seriously, it exhibited a distorted view of how government operates within democratic societies. Elected leaders do not have the power to dismiss people at will in such independent organisations as the ABC or universities.
Wolfsohn was correct four decades ago when he argued that "the concept of ‘power' causes endless difficulties and confusion" and that "its concreteness has evaporated as social analysis has become more sophisticated". In 1964, Wolfsohn felt it necessary to remind advocates of the "power elite" theory that "Australian society shows a high degree of cultural, social and political fragmentation determined by sheer size of territory, the federal system, denominational divisions and the nature of the education system". The pluralism that Wolfsohn noted in 1964 is even more evident today due to greater competition and developments in the media, among other factors.
In contemporary Australia, no one exercises undiluted power in the sense that Niccolo Machiavelli or Karl Marx thought of the term. And there is no one elite. In other words, nobody really runs Australia – but some Australians are more influential than others. ♦