G’day Brith

1-26-2011  At first glance it seems absurd. Australian man Geoff Stephens, who for more than two decades has worked in the UK, reportedly alleges that his British co-workers are guilty of anti-Aussie racism.

According to British tabloid the Daily Mail, Stephens is taking legal action against his employers after enduring years of Australianist abuse. The 48-year-old claims these bigoted Brits made “jokes about kangaroos”, mocked historical Australian cultural practices involving prawns and barbecues and even asked if his girlfriend was named Sheila.
These hatemongers also openly use the g-word. As the Mail reports, “they regularly greet him by saying ‘G’day, sport.’ “
Stephens – originally from Adelaide, which might explain a few things – has been off work since August due to depression brought on by the torrent of racist slurs. The council-employed social worker – which might explain a few other things – says he uses a cocktail of prescription drugs to cope with his tormenters.
Some may dismiss Stephens’s concerns merely on the basis that they aren’t actually anything to do with racism. This would be to miss the point, or, more accurately, to miss a brilliant opportunity. The racism card is the most valuable single device in any form of modern negotiations. It wins every argument. It silences every critic.
If we Australians can establish the belief that we are a distinct race and therefore subject to racism, the world will be our big, fat guilty oyster. Let the shakedowns begin!
Thankfully, even before Stephens – who may become known as the Rosa Parks of Australian emancipation – many have done substantial work building our victimhood credentials. Some years ago, Australians based in New York founded the G’day B’rith, a pro-Aussie rights group based on the principles of Jewish service organisation B’nai B’rith.
I myself have previously proposed that we inaugurate Bonza, our own version of Kwanzaa, the African-American heritage celebration invented in 1966. Just as Kwanzaa rejoices in the “seven principles of blackness”, Bonza might call on citizens to revel in the seven principles of Australianism. It would be sort of like Australia Day, except with six more principles attached to it.
Defining those principles would necessarily involve a great deal of public debate. Who should be the final arbiter? How about NSW Premier Kristina Keneally, a former American who converted to orthodox Australianism eleven years ago.
Keneally revealed on the weekend that she has become a great spokesperson for Australian uniqueness, claiming that “no other people” on earth are as much defined by their weather.
Well, yes. Unless you count Eskimos.
Anyway, Keneally will have a lot of spare time on her hands after March 26. She’s perfectly placed to be our Bonza Babe.
Alert readers may have detected a flaw in this plan. If we are to define Australians as a race, how is it possible for someone, like Keneally, to convert to it? After all, although one can take Chinese citizenship, for example, it isn’t quite so easy to become Asian. There are all the violin lessons, for a start.
Here we must bow to the precedent set by our moral and ethical superiors at the ABC and elsewhere, who consistently dismiss any criticism of Islam as “racist”. Yet Islam isn’t a race, and converting to it is the work of a few seconds. According to one online guide: “If anyone has a real desire to be a Muslim and has full conviction and strong belief that Islam is the true religion of God, then, all one needs to do is pronounce the ‘Shahada’, the testimony of faith, without further delay … With the pronunciation of this testimony, or ‘Shahada’, with sincere belief and conviction, one enters the fold of Islam.”
Congratulations! Now anyone who has a go at you can be shouted down as a terrible racist, which is precisely the advantage we must seek as victimised Australians.
We might need to come up with our own version of the Shahada, though. The Charlene, named after local saint Kylie Minogue’s Neighbours character, should suffice. Pronounce the Charlene with sincere belief and conviction and one enters the fold of Australia.
After that, the world is on notice. Soccer officials ignored the millions of dollars we threw at the 2022 World Cup bid, but they’ll think twice if they know any slight against Australia will be condemned as racist. Any mockery of Australia will be crushed. A certain episode of Flight of the Conchords, in which Australians were described as being “descended from criminals and retarded monkeys”, will never be shown again. A fatwa, or beergutwa, will make sure of it.
Even locals who are inclined to support criticism of Australia from the United Nations will no longer side with that organisation’s virulent racism.
We’ve probably seen the last of the Barmy Army, apart from the inevitable trials and imprisonments. Their hate speech has no place against a put-upon little racial group already far outnumbered worldwide. We only amount to 0.3 per cent of the global population. As a race, we’re easily the world’s tiniest. Our opponents are not only racist but numberist.
Australian cultural practices will also be protected under the catch-all defence of race. You might have noticed how reluctant are some otherwise outspoken commentators to question a particular culture’s appalling treatment of women, opposition to Western freedoms and resentment of bacon. This silence is down to a desire to avoid causing offence – and a reluctance to attract screams of, yes, racism.
Those same commentators might now shut up about drinking and gambling. They’re cultural. And therefore racial, apparently.
There may be some backlash against our new racial identity – intemperate and inflammatory opinion pieces asking if ugg boots should be banned, and so on – but basically we can’t lose. Geoff Stephens has shown us the way. It would be unAustralian, practically by definition, not to follow.
All readers are invited to enjoy tomorrow’s Australia Day, to remain vigilant for any kangaroo-based sneers, and to recite their Charlenes with conviction. Be at one with Bonza, people.