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The Beehive and Parliament - Source: ONE News -
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"Perhaps the sentiments contained in the following pages, are not yet sufficiently fashionable to procure them general favour; a long habit of not thinking a thing wrong, gives it the superficial appearance of being right, and raises at first a formidable outcry in defence of custom. But the tumult soon subsides. Time makes more converts than reason."
So said Thomas Paine in his opening paragraph of Common Sense, a pre-revolutionary tract that led America's second president John Adams to claim, "without the pen of Paine the sword of Washington would have been wielded in vain."
It's impossible for a Kiwi to grasp the vitality of the American Revolution, the brilliance of the 1776 Declaration of Independence, and the experiment in republican government launched by the Constitution. It's impossible because our country was born through an evolutionary process, not a revolutionary one. Our frame of reference is hugely different and we are so young.
I was up in Boston a couple of weeks ago and saw both the light and dark of the revolution and its legacy. The light was provided by the Freedom Trail, traversing the site of the famous revolt against the British. "No taxation without representation," cried the colonists and into the harbour went the offending tea. The next day, down at Fenway Park, home of the Boston Red Sox, I saw a giant advertising hoarding, "We Sell Guns! No ID Required, No Background Checks, Criminals & Terrorists Welcome."
It is daily contradictions like these that accentuate the promise of the American dream as well as the nightmare of a fractious polity that has become so resistant to change that one wonders whether any president can overcome the forces of inertia and hubris. It was very different over 220 years ago. Everything was in the melting pot, and the prospect of the noose was an ever present reminder of failure.
There was also an historical fluidity that saw a unique collection of individuals come together in Philadelphia to craft something vastly different from what had gone before - a constitutional republic. But collective genius wasn't enough. Opposition was organised, and fierce. Four states were crucial to any new government being established, none more so than New York.
So Alexander Hamilton, James Madison, with a cameo from John Jay, wrote 85 articles to the people of New York, under the pseudonym of Publius. This collection became known as The Federalist Papers, and while it did not ultimately sway the New Yorkers - realpolitik, in the form of fear of isolation, achieved what exquisite reason had failed to - it became the authoritative interpretation of the constitution once it was adopted in 1789.
The Federalist Papers was one collaboration among many, both large and small, that took place between America's founding brothers, for men (alas, only men) such as Washington, Jefferson, Hamilton, Madison, Franklin, and Adams were fueled by an unshakeable conviction and optimism about the promise of their endeavour. The fraternal bonds they shared allowed them to navigate any number of barriers, including themselves, on the path to American independence and republican government.
I never grow tired of learning about the revolutionary generation but my mental telescope into the republic's past has been suddenly flipped by news that Keith Locke's republican bill has finally been liberated from its six-plus years' confinement in the member's ballot. At last, at long last, there is a chance for our parliament and the rest of us to begin talking about our natural rite of passage, full independence, a New Zealand republic with our own Head of State.
It's a wonderful opportunity and surely our parliament will allow it to go to select committee, as a vote against would be to codify profound timidity in the face of our country's historical trajectory. The vote on Locke's bill should also flush out the republicans in our midst, and those of them sitting on National's front bench will now have to make a choice, to declare confidence in New Zealand's future or to remain timid. We should also, in my view, not concern ourselves about insulting Mrs Windsor. Her husband's boorishness and last century's revelations about her son's bizarre life ambition have done a better job of insulting the monarchy than anything we might conceive down under.
I personally don't like Keith's bill; it is too minimalist and narrow in scope for my tastes, but it can trigger a more expansive republican debate if we grasp the nettle. I believe the central question facing us moves far beyond the question of where to house our Head of State; to me the question that needs posing is, what is the role and location of the Treaty of Waitangi in 21st Century New Zealand? Forging a new compact between us, one codified in a written constitution, offers the solution to the vexed problem of moving us from our bi-cultural history towards our multi-cultural reality and future. Likewise the future of the Maori seats flows naturally from an expansive republican debate.
An expansive debate, however, requires a long process of engagement, which is why I favour Mike Moore's idea of establishing a leadership council - a group of eminent New Zealanders who could for as long as judged prudent listen to all and foster a republican discourse imbued with mutual respect and mutual compromise.
Moore understands what Keith Locke's bill and the Republican Movement do not, moving to a republic requires emphasis on "how" we do it, not "what" minimalist model is best. If we use Keith's bill to discuss expansively "how" we might move to a republic we will be showing a greater confidence in ourselves than is our norm. That is the great opportunity before us.
But to return to where I began, America's revolutionary republican birth can teach New Zealanders little about our 189 year evolutionary gestation, except for one crucial lesson.
People of great purpose and practical wisdom seized their moment in Philadelphia. They did so in a spirit of optimism, fraternity and mutual compromise. Do we possess enough practically wise leaders in-and-outside of parliament to seize our moment? Or will our timidity in the face of hard questions convince us that an absurd anachronism remains right and therefore endure a still longer wait for time to make more converts than reason?