Uthman Badar and his “moral defence” of murdering difficult women:
“For most of recorded history parents have reluctantly sacrificed their children—sending them to kill or be killed for the honour of their nation, their flag, their king, their religion. But what about killing for the honour of one’s family? Overwhelmingly, those who condemn ‘honour killings’ are based in the liberal democracies of the West. The accuser and moral judge is the secular (white) westerner and the accused is the oriental other; the powerful condemn the powerless. By taking a particular cultural view of honour, some killings are condemned whilst others are celebrated. In turn, the act becomes a symbol of everything that is allegedly wrong with the other culture.”
One doesn’t need the gift of clairvoyance to know that somewhere in Canberra, in that tricky terrain between principle and practicality, Attorney-General George Brandis is contemplating what to do with the infamous Section 18C. Should he move to have the provision scrapped altogether, as was promised before last year’s election, or might it be safer to tinker merely at the edges — scratch a word here, amend a phrase there — and leave the cudgel wielded against Andrew Bolt largely intact and ready to silence others who dare to ruffle the aggrieved and well-lawyered?
If press reports are to be believed, Brandis is copping grief even from some in his own party, who really should know better. Professional politicians with a professional interest in being professionally re-elected know that placating those noisy and ultra-quotable “community leaders” is a vocational imperative. It would be a brave politician who told the leaders of, say, his local Calathumpian ghetto that while barbarous traditions are revered in their ancestors’ homeland, they themselves have chosen to live at a remove of many thousands of miles and quite a few centuries. If they opt not to embrace the rich legacy of the Enlightenment, which Australia mostly embodies, the international departure terminal is but a short drive down Anzac Parade and, oh, just by the way, would you like a little help to get those bags into the taxi?
So it must be a tough call for poor Senator Brandis, who learnt just a few weeks ago that endorsing free speech can bring down an avalanche of criticism. Even bigots and fools have the right to be heard, he noted, it being the duty of those who detest their words and views to point out why they are so wrong, so wicked, so stupid or, as is very often the case, all three at once. It is not a difficult concept to grasp, this notion that the counter to dangerous ideas is more speech, rather than the legislated gag or ruinous cost of the many learned friends needed to conduct an adequate defence.
But for a professional politician it is a very dangerous one, as a sidelight to this week’s furor over the Festival of Dangerous Ideas’ invitation to Uthman Badar illustrates. If you have been napping under a horse trough, know that Badar’s topic was to be “a moral defence” of honour killings. That’s no infelicitous paraphrasing of his intended speech, for the subject was laid out with exquisite precision in the festival’s programme: