Writers Abroad: Three Aussie ‘amigos’

Australia didn’t have a government for 17 days.

At least, that’s what the headlines read and newscasters said, and it’s what everyone on the streets was talking about the past three weeks.

But the situation wasn’t as perilous as it sounds, at least by American standards.
Imagine an American scenario: It’s mid-November, 98 percent of the votes are counted and neither Republicans nor Democrats won the House.

No majority, no magic 218 seats.

Instead, the balance of power rests fully with three independent congressmen who could side with either party and have two weeks to choose which party will govern.
The three independents are political no-names — as unknown as Sarah Palin before she was John McCain’s running mate — representing rural constituencies in New Mexico, North Dakota and Montana.

Their platforms are agriculture-based, and their grievances are about the misfortune of farmers and the rural poor during the past decade. They’ve never had a political loudspeaker until the 2010 electoral tie, and they love it.

This is what happened in Australia.

The country’s late August election produced no majority, no prime minister and the country’s first hung Parliament in 70 years.

Tony, Rob and Bob — some call them the “three amigos,” others the “three wise men” — took 17 days to decide which party and prime minister would control the Aussie government for the next three years.

The two major parties — incumbent center-left Labour party and conservative Liberal party —  were in full tug-of-war mode over this trio of instant political celebrities, a la Kevin Costner’s 2008 dramedy “Swing Vote.”

It was a tug-of-war, for sure, but with less messiness than might be expected from such melodramatic headlines.

In a hypothetical American version of this political stalemate, all hell breaks loose.
Tea Party protesters canvas the sleepy districts of the three independents. Cable news shows become full-time poll aggregators and pundits wax ridiculous. John King feverishly pokes at his map. Senior citizens propagate e-mail chains claiming the end of times has commenced.

The Dow plunges to its lowest value in a year. Obama addresses the nation to calmly assert the government is still functioning and the election wasn’t rigged. Homeland Security ups the terror bar to orange for good measure.

But in Australia, the quagmire didn’t cause panic, fear or irrationality.
Instead, it produced the most constructive political round table I’ve ever seen on television.

On the eve of the 17th day, when the three independents would announce their decision, Australian Broadcasting Corporation aired a special, prime-time edition of “Q & A,” a weekly political show with a panel and audience questions.

The panel included one of the three independents: Bob Katter, “the man in the 10- gallon hat.” Also on the panel were leaders of both major parties and an Australian sociologist.

Imagine the composure and nuance of the “Charlie Rose Show” combined with the passion and toughness of “Hardball with Chris Matthews” combined with the honesty and humor of “The Daily Show.”

Add to that an educated, respectful, not pre-selected studio audience and an Anderson Cooper-esque moderator.

I hadn’t seen anything like it in the U.S. — I had stumbled upon bipartisanship, or democracy in action, or something like that.

Australians seem to take their politics less seriously than Americans do, and it was refreshing.

They seem to take government for what it is: an imperfect tool whose components are imperfect institutions and imperfect people and whose imperfections will always exist regardless of which party is in power.

Rather than exhausting themselves with blanket proclamations about big government or big business or socialism, they focused on practical governance. They laughed about their political differences rather than yelling about them.

On Day 17, the three independents split, and the incumbent center-left party won power by one vote.

The three Aussie amigos had spoken, and the Aussie electorate moved on.