Extract from The Guardian
The PM needs to decide whether to let the attorney general’s defence be the last word on the case or to represent all the interests involved, including the alleged victim’s
Last modified on Wed 3 Mar 2021 22.23 AEDT
If Christian Porter was somehow unaware that survivors of sexual assault in the #MeToo era have had enough of being silenced, the Australian of the year, Grace Tame, appeared at the National Press Club on Wednesday to remind him.
Only an hour or so before the attorney general confirmed the worst-kept secret on the internet – that he was the unnamed cabinet minister at the centre of a rape allegation from 1988 – Tame stood before reporters in Canberra and delivered a speech of piercing moral clarity.
The timing was a coincidence, of course – speeches to the National Press Club are scheduled weeks in advance. But Tame sung the battle hymn of a generation. “To my fellow survivors: it is our time. We need to take this opportunity. We need to be bold and courageous. Recognise that we have a platform on which I stand with you in solidarity and support.
“Share your truth. It is your power. One voice, your voice and our collective voices can make a difference. We are on the precipice of a revolution whose call to action needs to be heard loud and clear.”
Faced with a profound cultural moment – a tipping point where women, increasingly, are refusing to step back or be pushed back when life compels them to share “ugliness and darkness”, as Tame put it, as the means of “moving into the light” – Porter returned fire with a cultural moment of his own.
The attorney general could have chosen to front journalists on Wednesday with a brief statement categorically denying the allegations that had been levelled at him and submitting himself to a process of independent investigation to allow the bureaucratic ventilation of various testimonies, before answering questions.
But Porter didn’t choose that route. He chose to defend his position by digging in and framing himself as the unwitting victim of trial by mob.
Porter was visibly distressed, as of course you would be – the pressure of this, the waiting, the war-gaming, the enduring, blow after blow, news story after news story – would be unbearable for anyone, particularly if they are completely innocent.
The attorney general also had a clear narrative. He said he was a servant of justice, a state prosecutor who became first law officer of the land. He believed in the rule of law, due process.
Porter invited journalists and people watching on at home to walk a mile in his shoes. The question he framed to the people watching was: what if this was you?
Can you imagine being me, with these braying bloody journalists, shouting over one another and gesticulating frantically (a dynamic he and his minders let run without any obvious redirection) – supplemented by the inevitable acid rain belting down on social media platforms.
In so many ways, implicitly and explicitly, Porter asked for empathy. Can you see I’m a man in a maelstrom? What if I am innocent and I can’t prove I’m innocent?
What if you woke up in your worst nightmare? What if you found yourself in a position where your life, your reputation, your standing, your career prospects, were destroyed in an instant by a false allegation that you couldn’t disprove?
So we need to be very clear about the choice Porter made.
The attorney general – who is no dummy, who plans meticulously – had options once he’d decided to face the public, and he chose to fight fire with fire. Instead of foreshadowing a bloodless, intellectual, procedural response to a crisis, the attorney general tapped a primal anxiety in an age where much seems arbitrary, cruel and chaotic.
Understanding this was an “event” broadcast live, Porter appealed to people unsettled by the hastily rewritten rules of the game, by the abrupt transfer of societal privilege, and invited them to remain deeply unnerved on his behalf.
The experienced prosecutor attempted a reversal of the terms of his own trial in the court of public opinion.
But Porter is not the only person who has choices. The prime minister has them as well.
Porter has made his position clear. Now Scott Morrison needs to make a decision about whether he wants Porter’s press conference to be the last word on a crisis that has convulsed the government, or whether he wants to try and bridge the sensibilities arrayed before the Australian public on one extraordinary Wednesday in March.
If Morrison is a leader worthy of that title, he would represent all the interests in this most extraordinary and desperately sad story.
Taking his cue from Tame, who speaks for survivors and the many people who love them and want to work with them to make the world better, Morrison would represent the interests of a dead woman who believes she was violated – and the friends who believed her.
Morrison would also represent the interests of his attorney general, who says he is innocent, and would (despite his laboured protestations to the contrary) be benefitted by an orderly and transparently fair process where he is able to defend his reputation.
The way ahead is obvious.
Morrison should constitute an independent inquiry.
It is the only valid course.
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