A recent Facebook post referred to overweight people as ‘fat lazy slobs’.  It wasn’t directed at me, personally, but I admit to taking offence.  As a larger than average person I was outraged.

I thought, “You know nothing about me, and yet you think it’s perfectly acceptable to make judgments about me and my lifestyle based on my size.”

As it happens, I am not lazy, I am definitely not a slob and I don’t spend my days lying on the couch watching Days of Our Lives while whacking back litres of Coke and chowing down on chips and chocolate.

There is a whole life story and medical history that lies behind my weight which is no-one’s business but mine and I certainly wasn’t about to share it with some stranger on Facebook.  But it got me thinking – how often do we judge (or worse, condemn)  people on face value without really considering that everyone has a ‘back story’?  Indeed, those back stories can often turn our first impressions upside down, revealing the danger of judging people based on very little knowledge.  The truth is that people are very rarely exactly as they seem.

My mother met her best friend, Joan, on their first day at primary school.  Today, they are eighty-six, still friends, and they still walk hand in hand down the street as they did as teenagers during the war.

We love her dearly, but Joan can appear rather grand.  She lives in an expensive, art-filled, inner-city apartment, having returned to Australia after many years living on Central Park, New York as the wife of an eminent university professor.  She speaks casually of world travels, United Nations luncheons and fundraisers at the Museum of Modern Art.

Recently, I mentioned that I was looking for a rug for my study.

“An oriental?” asked Joan.

“Well, that kind of thing …” I said vaguely (thinking I might pick up something at a Rugs a Million sale for around $150).

“Well do take care, dear” she warned, “some of the orientals nowadays are [shock!] machine made!”

I had to curb my mirth as I told her I very much doubted I’d be able to purchase a hand made oriental rug on my meager budget.

My point here, is that anyone speaking casually to Joan may dismiss her as a wealthy, elderly socialite who has never known anything but luxury.  They would be wrong.  Joan’s husband was an eminent anthropologist and she was a vital contributor to his fieldwork amongst the Walpiri people of Central Australia and the Enga tribe of Papua New Guinea.  She knows what it is to ‘rough it’.  She has patched up Aborigines wounded by axe fights, she has grubbed for yams in New Guinea, she has slept in a yurt in Kazakhstan and lived in a village in Andalucia.  She might appear to be a ‘lady who lunches’, but she is so, so much more.

Many years ago, I was a member of a social club which met once a month for lunch.  It was an eclectic bunch and one never quite knew who would turn up, but it made for some interesting conversations.  One day we were joined by a very large, very scary looking bikie (biker for my American friends).  He strode in, wearing the obligatory leather vest with his club ‘colours’ emblazoned on the back, an impressive “Vietnam Vet” belt buckle, long grey hair tied in a pony tail and an intimidating face full of whiskers.  Despite first appearances he turned out to be a gentle, articulate and highly intelligent man with an incredible back story.

Zev was an Israeli, seconded to the Australian Army during the Vietnam war, suffering horrific experiences including being ordered to fire on what turned out to be their own troops.  After Vietnam, Zev settled in Australia, but, like many vets, struggled with post traumatic stress syndrome.  Zev, it turned out,  was also a keen Bible scholar and, as an Israeli, spoke and read Hebrew.  He grinned as he told us how much he enjoyed the occasional visits from Jehovah’s Witnesses.

“Surprisingly, the sign on the door that says, “Big, ugly, hairy bikie lives here,” doesn’t deter them,” said Zev.

But when I open the door and they actually see the big, ugly, hairy bikie you can see I make them a bit nervous.”

They’re so used to being turned away, I reckon they think they’re safe, but I say, “Oh hello!  Oh? You want to talk about the Bible?  How fascinating!  Do come in!  Sit down!  Make yourself at home!”

And then they start quoting from the Bible, and I go and get my big Bible off the shelf and I say, “Your Bible says that?  Really?  That’s strange because that’s not what my Bible says!” and I begin to read to them, chapter and verse …. in Hebrew.”

“As I see their eyes glazing over, I say, “Oh, you don’t speak Hebrew?  How very strange?  I would have thought if you really wanted to understand the Bible you would at least have learned the language it was written in!”

“By that time, they’re inching forward in their chairs muttering about having to get going and I say, “Oh don’t go!  Please stay!  We’re having such an interesting conversation!”

How easy it would be to dismiss a big, ugly, hairy bikie as one of society’s rejects.  Why is it a surprise to find a Hebrew speaking, Bible literate, intellectual war-hero hiding behind all those whiskers?

Zev now works tirelessly as a lobbyist for better conditions for Vietnam Vets.  Next time you see a bikie and are tempted to think of the stereotypical drugs, alcohol and bikie wars, remember that everyone has a back story and you don’t know theirs.

Finally, a story from very close to home.  Recently we hired a handyman to do some gardening and landscaping chores around the house.  A very tall, self-effacing, quietly spoken chap, Gavin* worked so diligently and efficiently and for such a fair price we kept finding stuff for him to do.  Over several cups of coffee we found that Gavin, too, was much more than he seemed.  How easy to underestimate someone who does gardening and odd-jobs for a living.  How easy to think they’re ‘just a normal bloke’, hardworking, but with a rather pedestrian life-style and outlook.  So, we were mildly surprised to hear our willing worker say quietly, “Oh, by the way, I’m  in the local paper this week – but you probably won’t recognize me.”

And so began a story which revealed so much more about the value of friendship and love and laughter than we could ever have imagined would come from our lanky, rather dour, handyman.

Some years ago, Gavin’s nephew’s wife had begun to earn some much needed money by making teddy-bears.  Having something of an entrepreneurial mind and a kind heart, Gavin decided on a scheme to promote the business.  He invested thousands of dollars of his own money into the idea and, when it was realized, he was keen to show it off to a friend.  Arriving at his friend’s house, he was told he was out, so he revealed all to the friend’s wife who said, “Brilliant!  He’ll be home soon.  Let’s surprise him!  You go and get set up in the bedroom and when he comes home you can come out and show him your idea.”

So, at length, the friend comes home, the wife stays out of sight, and Gavin steps out into the living room, transformed into a 6’8” bear with a wooden leg and an eye patch.  His poor friend was so discombobulated by the sight of this beast in his living room his reflexes took over and he delivered a thunking right hook to the bear’s face!

“Of course,” says Gavin, laconically, “the head is so heavily padded it didn’t hurt a bit, and I reckon I could have taken him, even with the bear suit on, but of course, I didn’t.”

The story of Gavin’s bear being decked by his mate became one of those iconic stories that are retold and laughed about for years.  These are the moments that add depth and character to our friendships.

But time moves on and, eventually, Gavin moved to Queensland, taking up work as a handyman and gardener while he cared for his elderly mother.  When he heard that his mate, back in Adelaide, had terminal cancer, he was struck by the question we are all faced with at some stage in our lives, “What can I do to make a difference?”

The first thing he did was jump on a plane and go to see him.  During his visits they talked about Queensland and the little town where we live and his mate said he’d love to see it – but, of course, Gavin knew that simply wasn’t going to happen.  Gavin returned home, glad he had visited, but still convinced there must be something more he could do.

And so he conceived of the idea that, if his mate couldn’t come to visit him, he’d send him some photos of our village.  And then, remembering their history with the bear, Gavin decided on a plan.  Co-opting the support of some locals as guides and photographers, Gavin morphed into Secret Agent 008 ¾ Super Sleuth Incognito – the 6’ 8” bear – and set out on a tour of the village.  He visited the pharmacy, the library, the coffee shop, the post office, the park, the pub and the supermarket – meeting the locals and posing for photos all the while.  And then, when he was finished, he sent the photos off to his mate.

They were met with great hilarity and, as each new visitor came – undoubtedly with their own concerns about what to say to a dying man – the photos came out, broke the ice and eased the conversation.  The photos provided a catalyst for laughter and conversation and the effort involved in taking them spoke more about the depth of the friendship than two Aussie blokes could express in words.  A week or so after the photos arrived, a mutual friend rang Gavin and said simply, “Mate, you did a good thing.”

And so, we have a fat lady who is emphatically not a lazy slob, a wealthy matron who has roughed it in the deserts of Australia and the jungles of New Guinea, a bikie who is a Hebrew-speaking Bible scholar and a gardener who also happens to be a 6’8” bear.  None of us, I’d venture to say, is exactly as we seem.

Wouldn’t it be wise – indeed rational –  if we reserved our judgments, condemnations and dismissals of people based on first impressions and accepted that looks really can be deceiving.  Surely we need to look no further than ourselves to know that if there is a ‘secret life of us’ there is also, very probably, a secret life behind  just about everyone we meet.

Chrys Stevenson

* Not his real name.  ‘Gavin’ prefers the bear to ‘speak’ for himself and prefers that his ‘owner’ remains anonymous.  More photos of Secret Agent 008 3/4 Super Sleuth Incognito can be seen here.

Gladly’s Book Recommendations

Gladly reminds me that we happen to know a rather diminutive and very scholarly looking bookshop proprietor whose ‘back story’ includes working as an exotic dancer and cycling 20,000km across Australia for charity. His partner, currently playing the role of a slightly harrassed and terminally tired mother of a one-year-old happens to have an incredibly impressive profile on IMDB as a film editor, with credits including Baz Luhrman’s Moulin Rouge and Nim’s Island (starring Jodie Foster). They’d both be very grateful if you’d buy some books from them so that, 15 years from now when they’re luxuriating on their 60′ yacht in the French Riviera they can say, “Don’t hate us because we’re rich – we used to be impoverished bookstore owners once, you know!”

For more unexpected tales of fascinating people, try Embiggen Books‘ biography section.

Dear Julia

Congratulations on becoming Australia’s first female Prime Minister.

I wish I could greet your ascension to the leadership with the same elation I felt when Kevin Rudd won the 2007 election.  Sadly, Rudd taught me not to expect too much of politicians.  Indeed, I started out feeling like a kid who’d got a bike for Christmas, only to find out it had two flat tyres, no steering, and a bell that didn’t so much ring as babble incoherently in Mandarin.

Kevin Rudd came in promising to be one thing, and delivered another.  He was all wrapping and no present.  You haven’t had time to promise anything substantial so, at this stage, I’m not expecting much.  But, mustering a little optimism and pretending for a moment that I’m a small kid writing to Santa, here’s my wish list for your Prime Ministership:

• The kids next door in the USA and France have this neat thing called the separation of church and state.  I know you’re probably not going to get us a real shop bought, constitutionally guaranteed separation, but do you reckon you could run the government ‘as if’ we had one?

• A lot of us kids are sick of being bullied by Jim Wallace of the Australian Christian Lobby.  Just because he used to lead the SAS he thinks he can tell us all what to do – whether we’re in his gang or not.  I think he must have been stealing Kevin’s lunch money because when Jim said, “Jump!” Kevin said, “How high?”  As you appear to have bigger balls than Kevin, could you please tell Jim he doesn’t represent the views of the majority of Australians and that his nasty, divisive, discriminatory views are no longer welcome in the ALP?

• Can you please get rid of school chaplains?  If kids need counseling they should have the same access as adults do to trained professionals, not evangelists who are in the school grounds recruiting for Jesus.  If parents want their kids to have access to religious counseling, maybe they should start taking the family to church instead of sleeping in on Sundays like the other 93% of the population.  Remember that separation of church and state thing?  Let’s keep our schools secular.

• Would you mind very much withdrawing funding from Exclusive Brethren schools which isolate children from the broader community, teach girls to be submissive and discourage young people from going to university?  As an independent woman with the benefit of a university education, how can you countenance spending tax-payers’ money on such schools?  Exclusive Brethren girls and boys don’t choose their religion – they’re born into it.  There is no freedom of religion when you are not allowed to know there’s a choice!

• Perhaps it’s too much to ask, but if a law is worth having, surely it should apply to everyone.  If everyone else is required by law to pay taxes, why not churches?  If everyone else is required not to discriminate on the basis of gender, sexual orientation or religion, why do we allow exemptions for religious institutions?  Fair’s fair, Julia.  Let the religious institutions claim exemptions for their charitable work, but not ‘as of right’.  And there’s an advantage to this – it means the government won’t be financing harmful cults like Scientology, the Christian Fellowship Churches or the Exclusive Brethren.  Where their stockings were once stuffed full of tax-payers’ dollars, they’ll wake up to find, like other naughty children, all they have is a few bits of coal. Win!

• A letter to Santa really isn’t complete without a thought for those less fortunate than ourselves.  Julia, would you please stop the tradition of making political capital out of treating asylum seekers like criminal scum?  Instead of ‘talking tough’ and locking these poor people and their families up behind razor wire indefinitely, how about trying to educate the Australian public about their plight?  Maybe you could use some of the money you’re saving by taking down the mining tax ads?

• And finally, Julia, if I promise to be very, very good and vote for you at the next election, would you please boot out Senator Conroy and his ugly plans for an internet filter.  We’re not in China or Iran and, as much as we all want children protected from the seedier side of the internet, we all know this filter is not the way to do it.  One of your smarter elves, Senator Kate Lundy, knows about this.  Give her a hearing.  Better still, give her Conroy’s job.

Signing off with not much hope ….

Chrys Stevenson

Comments on this blog are moderated but will be approved as soon as possible.

Recently, Toowoomba resident, Ron Williams, announced that he is launching a High Court Challenge against the government’s National School Chaplaincy Program on the basis that it is unconstitutional.  Is this move heroic or quixotic – and, does it really matter? **

** Update 1/1/2011  A Writ of Summons and Statement of Claim was issued out of the High Court of Australia on Tuesday December 20, 2010.  A date for the hearing is expected to be set after the High Court resumes on 31 January.  For more details on the specifics of the writ and/or to make a donation towards legal costs please visit: High Court Challenge

In 2006, former Labor NSW premier Bob Carr slammed the Howard government’s plan to put chaplains into state schools as “profoundly wrong” and “really frightening”. “It abandons the principal of the separation of church and state.  Taxpayers should not be asked to fund religious promotion. That should be left to members of churches to fund themselves,” Mr Carr told The Daily Telegraph.

But, while our political leaders tend to give lip service to the principle of church/state separation, they know full well that, since the defeat of the Defence of Government Schools High Court Challenge in 1981, the Australian Constitution provides no barrier to politicians pork-barreling in favour of religious institutions in exchange for votes.  In the case of the school chaplaincy program, the cost to Australian tax-payers will top $207 million.

Carr’s opinion on the government funding the National School Chaplaincy Program echoes that of Edmund Barton, Australia’s first Prime Minister and one of the authors of the Australian Constitution.  In the debates leading up to Australian Federation in 1901, Barton’s view on using tax-payers’ money to fund religion was unequivocal:

“I cannot support for a moment any system of education which in the name of denominationalism or under any other name, draws funds from the coffers of the State manifestly for the propagation of creeds and dogmas widely divergent.  Taxpayers ought not to be called upon to support a system of that kind. It ought not to be compulsory upon any man to support that which he believes to be untrue, but that is inevitable under a system which subsidises what to different minds must appear as truth and error in the various and discordant dogmas and beliefs.  …

If, as tax-payers, we are asked to support religion we say, “No; you must leave that to our consciences as individuals, and not impose it upon us as tax-payers.” That is really the opinion which the people have expressed with regard to the teaching of religion to the adult population, and I say it is inconsistent to deal with the teaching of youth on any other principle at variance with it.”

Barton was speaking here, principally, about state funding for religious schools, but I think we can fairly extrapolate from his comments what his attitude towards the National School Chaplaincy Program would be. Curiously, at the time, Barton would have felt no compulsion to push for secular education in Australian public schools – it was already in place.  Between 1872 and 1897, each of the Australian colonies introduced Education Acts which guaranteed “free, compulsory and secular” education in government funded schools and ceased (in most instances) to provide tax-payers’ money to religious schools.  Let me make this clear.  Australia moved into Federation with an already clearly established secular public school system.

There is no doubt that our founding fathers intended that Australia should have a wall of separation between church and state.  Australia’s first draft Constitution was written by Tasmanian attorney-general Andrew Inglis Clark in 1891 and eighty-six of his ninety-six draft clauses remain in the modern Australian Constitution. Clark traveled to America in 1890 to undertake research and his draft drew heavily on the United States Constitution.  The people Clark chose to consult with on his visit are significant.  One was Moncure Conway, formerly a Unitarian but, by then, an atheist and freethinker.  Another was Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes – an agnostic.  Neither is likely to have counseled Clark against a Constitutional separation of church and state!

We must view the intent of the Australian Constitution in its international historical context.  Secular education was established in France between 1881 and 1882 and further strengthened in 1886. Contemporaneously, between 1872 and 1893, after years of bitter disputes between religious denominations over who should control the public education system, every Australian state passed an Education Act removing state aid to Church schools and guaranteeing ‘free, compulsory and secular education’ (Queensland’s secular education was rescinded in 1910 and has never been reinstated).

At the same time that Australia was moving towards Federation, France was also involved in debates leading to the institution of their 1905 law which established the principle of laïcité – the separation of church and state. Unambiguously, the French law states “The Republic neither recognizes, nor salaries, nor subsidizes any religion”.  The drafting of our Constitution must be seen within an historical context in which the American Constitution and the move towards a French secular state would have been highly influential on contemporary ideas of state-making.

Accordingly, Clark’s draft Constitution, submitted to the 1891 Constitutional Convention, included the following clause:

46. The Federal Parliament shall not make any law for the establishment or support of any religion, or for the purposes of giving any preferential recognition to any religion, or for prohibiting the free exercise of any religion.

This clause specifically sought to appeal to those who did not want an established church and those who had no religion. Despite attempts by religious delegates to water down the separation of church and state at the 1896 convention, delegates voted firmly in favour of a secular state, as they had done in 1891. There were further debates on this issue at the 1897 convention  with both Protestants and Catholics seeking to minimize secularization.  Defending the separation of church and state, Edmund Barton said:

“The whole mode of government, the whole province of the state is secular. The whole business that is transacted by any community, however deeply Christian, unless it has an established church, unless religion is interwoven expressly and professedly in all its actions – is secular business as distinguished from religious business.”

The historical record shows clearly that, despite numerous proposals and heavy lobbying against it, the various constitutional conventions maintained strong majority support for a strict separation of church and state. The separation of church and state was finally enshrined into the Australian Constitution at the 1898 Convention.  While a compromise with the churches was reached with the invocation to ‘Almighty God’ in the Constitution’s preamble,  Henry Bournes Higgins, a Victorian barrister, pushed for the inclusion of the clause which now appears in our Constitution as Section 116:

“The commonwealth shall not make any law prohibiting the free exercise of any religion, or for the establishment of any religion, or for imposing any religious observance, and no religious test shall be required as a qualification for any office or public trust under the Commonwealth.”

Again, in the context of contemporary debates, it is clear that Higgins’ aim was to support the Seventh Day Adventists’ argument against the Council of Churches’ push for secularization to be minimized.  The Seventh Day Adventists argued that:

Each [church and state] has its particular sphere and … the realm of one is in no sense the realm of the other…[W]e are opposed to anything and everything tending towards a union of religion and the civil power.

Fast forward now to 1963 when Prime Minister, Robert Menzies, determined that the only way to win the Catholic vote was to give in to their lobbying and promise limited financial assistance for Catholic Schools.  While support for private schools was initiated by Menzies and subsequent Liberal coalition governments, it was Prime Minister Gough Whitlam’s Labor government which began to directly fund private schools – again as a means of winning over the Catholic vote.  By blurring the lines between state/church separation, this provided the wedge which has ultimately led to the de-secularization of our state schools.

In 1973, the Whitlam Government, with the support of the Coalition parties, institutionalized government funding for private schools.  Bob Hawke’s Labor government continued and expanded the practice which was further expanded when the Howard’s Liberal coalition came to power in 1996.  It is now being further exploited by the Rudd Labor Government.  Edmund Barton, Andrew Inglis-Clarke and Henry Bournes-Higgins must be spinning in their graves!

Our founding fathers framed our Constitution and fought against pressure from the churches to make Australia a modern, secular nation in which freedom of religion was protected by being set apart from the workings of the state.  Anyone reading the views of those involved in the process of drafting and defending the Constitution must fairly conclude that this was their intention. However, because of the defeat of the 1981 Defence of Government Schools challenge against government funding of religious schools, the flood-gates were opened to allow state funding of all kinds of religious activities of a kind that would never be allowed in America or France.  This was clearly never the intention of those who framed our Constitution nor the conventions which routinely voted in favour of a secular state.

The seeds of what is now the National School Chaplaincy Program were sown deep in Queensland’s bible belt.  The original scheme was initiated at a state level by the Queensland Labor Government in the lead-up to the 2006 state election.  Toowoomba is a hot-bed of Christian fundamentalism and, at the time, Premier Beattie needed his candidate, Kerry Shine, to defeat self-declared moral crusader, Lyle Shelton.  That Beattie chose to announce funding for school chaplains in this particular electorate shows clearly that it was conceived as a $10 million carrot to induce Toowoomba’s religious right to elect Labor candidate, Shine.

In the same year, similarly motivated by the Christian vote, John Howard and his education minister, Julie Bishop, launched a $90 million plan to support chaplains in state schools.  This later ballooned to $165 million. During the ALP’s electoral campaign in 2007  it also announced that it would not only continue to honour Howard’s commitment to the National School Chaplaincy Program, but expand it at a further cost of a $42.8 million.  Importantly, the Rudd Government said that secular counselors may be supported, but only if a religious counselor was not available.  This is a clear case of discrimination based on religious belief.

Constitutional lawyer, Stephen McLeish,  suggests that the National School Chaplaincy Program breaches Section 116 of the Constitution in several ways, primarily by funding a program that directly promotes religion and the religious over the non-religious, and which privileges the Christian religion above minority religions.  According to the lobby group, Stop the National Schools Chaplaincy Programme, the scheme also breaches agreements incorporated into Australian Law through the operation of the Human Rights and Equal Opportunity Commission Act 1986.  In short, Howard and Rudd cheerfully ignored our constitution and our international commitments to human and civil rights along with their own publicly stated support of church/state separation in order to purchase the Christian right votes with hundreds of millions of our tax dollars.

For those of us who value secularism, it is clear that something must be done.  But what?  Every successive government, it seems, is intent on tearing down another brick in the wall of state/church separation.  Should this remain unchallenged? There are some who argue that nothing can be done.  Indeed, there are some who argue that another High Court challenge, if lost, will make it even harder to argue for church/state separation in this country.  But does that mean that such a challenge should never be made?

There are some who say that a High Court challenge is doomed to fail and that a winnable case cannot be made.  And yet, there are others who say that the National School Chaplaincy Program (NSCP) violates the Australian Constitution in a way that funding religious schools does not, and so the fact that the Defence of Government Schools case was lost does not mean that a case based on the NSCP will be argued, or lost, on the same basis.

Some say that public opinion must precipitate legal change and there is no such popular push, at this stage, for Constitutional change or reinterpretation.  But how many Australians actually realize that Australia has no legal guarantee of church/state separation?  And what will bring it to their attention and engage their interest in this omission?  A high profile court case with the attendant media coverage is a sure-fire way of raising public consciousness about this matter.  And, even if the case is lost, politicians will be forced to admit openly that Australia has no separation of church and state.  Perhaps this is what is needed to precipitate a popular push for Section 116 to be reworded.

Ron Williams is a musician, a video producer, a university student, a husband and a father of six.  Together with his friend, Hugh Wilson, Ron formed the Australian Secular Lobby in 2006 after finding (to his horror) the Queensland Education Act provided no guarantee of a secular education for his children. Ron attracted international media attention in 2008 when he lodged a complaint with the Anti-Discrimination Commission after his five year old daughter, Kathleen came home from school crying about the animals that were soon to drown in the ‘rain that God made’.  On investigation, he discovered, that despite his express wish that Kathleen receive no religious instruction, she had been exposed in her classroom to a movie and a craft project based on the story of Noah’s ark and that her classroom boasted a bookshelf full of children’s biblical titles.

Ron also withdrew his two oldest children from their school when it employed a chaplain.

Ron thinks that secular education in public schools is something worth fighting for and he has spent the last four years doing just that.  Now, he has decided to take on the government with a High Court challenge against the National School Chaplaincy Program.  Despite the naysayers who believe such a case cannot be won, Ron has an experienced and reputable team of lawyers and legal academics supporting him and the case will be argued by a high profile barrister (appointed, but yet to be named).  Who among us would have the courage to take such a step to defend a principle we believe in against such trenchant opposition?

Imagine yourself, with virtually no financial resources, challenging a government with boundless access to taxpayers’ money and the best legal minds in the land.  Of course, those of a religious bent might take comfort from the tale of David and Goliath.  (Those of us who eschew religion, might look instead to the triumph of Daryl Kerrigan in the movie, The Castle.) The odds of winning might be remote, but the little guy can defeat the big guy with guts and determination.  There’s a chance you might win and everything will be OK. Sure, but what if you knew that even if you win, the court may not award you costs, so even in victory, you might still be sending yourself and your family into a financial black hole.  How strongly would you need to feel about an issue in order to take that risk?

Now, let me ask you another question.  While you may not be willing, or able, to take such a risk, how far would you be prepared to go to support someone who is?  If you can’t even rouse yourself to send them a cheque for the price of a meal at a mid-priced restaurant, then you, I fear, are one of the ‘silent majority’ who are prepared to ‘do nothing’.

I wonder how many of us who espouse passionate convictions about social and political issues would actually be willing to risk everything in order to stand up for them?  And, if we balk at stepping off the precipice for our principles, are we at least committed enough to chip in for a parachute for someone who is willing to do it for us?

Whether Ron wins or loses and regardless of whether you accept the logic that Ron would not risk his family’s future on an unwinnable case, I think his cause deserves the financial support of every single Australian who believes in the principle of the separation of church and state.  The question is, how highly do you value it, and what are you prepared to sacrifice to see this case proceed to court?

Whether Ron Williams is heroic or quixotic remains to be seen, but, does it really matter?  Win or lose his quest will gain much needed exposure for the lack of a formal separation of church and state in this country.  Either way, I think Ron deserves our encouragement and practical assistance.  Sometimes windmills just have to be tilted and the very least we can do is chip in for a horse for a knight brave enough (and eccentric enough?) to do it.

Donations can be made by PayPal (and other means) on the High Court Challenge website.  Please note that all funds donated go directly towards legal costs and not to Ron, personally.

Chrys Stevenson

Further Action:

Visit the High Court Challenge website and donate as much as you can manage.

Important Sites:

High Court Challenge

Australian Secular Lobby

Stop the National Schools Chaplaincy Program

Let’s Get Secular Back in the Queensland Education Act

Defence of Government Schools High Court Case

Gladly’s Book Recommendations

Gladly agrees with David Nicholls, writing in the Sydney Morning Herald:

“If children in state schools need counselling, surely funding should go towards providing qualified counsellors, not those who bring only their blue card and religious bias to the table. What will be next? Will Medicare favour faith-healers, over doctors on the basis that they’re “more economical” and “just as effective”? If not, why are our children any less deserving of unbiased, professionally accredited counsellors?”

If you’re interested in this subject, you might enjoy the following books from Gladly’s favourite bookstore – Embiggen Books.

Realising Secularism: Australia and New Zealand by Max Wallace

The Australian Constitution by John Williams

God Under Howard: The Rise of the Religious Right in Australian Politics by Marion Maddox

This article first appeared in the April-June 2010 issue of Secular Nation Magazine, a publication of Atheist Alliance International. It also appears on the Sunshine Coast Atheists website.

It’s a Sunday evening in Melbourne, Australia. The Rise of Atheism Global Atheist Convention has just concluded and I’m  sitting in the bar at the Hilton Hotel having an animated discussion about how to build on the momentum of this amazing  event.

Sunshine Coast Atheists at Global Atheist Convention

My drinking buddies are my friend Warren Bonett, the owner of a science and philosophy bookshop in my home state of Queensland; Julie and Mark, a couple whose income from the adult industry is threatened by the Christian lobby; former  Catholic schoolgirls Vicki and Tracey; Tanya Levin, author of a best-selling book about her life in and outside of Hillsong Church; and Jane Caro, a writer, social commentator and well-known television panellist.

Suddenly, Jane makes a smart-ass comment — I can’t remember what it was, blame the chardonnay — and before I  know it we launch simultaneously into a loud rendition of Janis Joplin’s, “Oh Lord, won’t you buy me, a Mercedes Benz …”

Surreal! I feel like I’ve just tumbled into an atheist Wonderland. Until the Convention, Jane was just a face on a television screen and Tanya was the name on the cover of a well-thumbed book. Now, I’m drinking and singing with them in a bar while we plot the next step for atheism in Australia.

That sums up the Global Atheist Convention experience for me. It’s about meeting like-minded people, discussing important subjects, mixing as equals with professors, celebrities and authors, looking beyond the Convention to the future and, of course, drinking and laughing hysterically.

There is another surreal moment in the same bar, just before the Convention begins. It’s early evening and atheists beginning to wander in for a drink, prior to attending the launch of Russell Blackford’s and Udo Schuklenk’s 50 Voices of  Disbelief. As each person arrives we introduce ourselves, often giving both our real names and our Internet monikers and big hugs all round as we discover the 3D versions of people we’ve already bonded with online. Perhaps an hour into our drinking session a familiar face appears.

“Hi, I’m PZ Myers!” he says, hand outstretched.

There’s no need for an introduction. There’s no mistaking that hirsute but cherubic face.

“We know who you are!” says Warren with a huge grin.

PZ is supposed to be meeting some Pharyngulites in the bar, but there’s no sign of them.

“Can you give me a name?” I ask. “Perhaps I have their number in my phone.”

PZ looks a tad sheepish and admits the only name he has is Bride of Shrek. Regrettably, although I have Darwin’s Bulldog, the Irreverent Mr Black, Sean the Blogonaut and the indomitable Felch Grogan in my contacts list, Bride of Shrek is a notable omission.

We wait with PZ as long as we can, but the Blackford book launch is in a neighboring suburb and we’re going to be late. I muster our herd of cats into taxis, but, as we step into our cab, Warren pauses momentarily, nods his head and says, “We’re so cool, we just walked out on PZ Myers!”

At the book launch I get my first introduction to the philosopher A.C. (Anthony) Grayling, a distinguished-looking scholar with a mane of silver hair and a razor sharp wit delivered with a mellifluous British accent. The combined effect is devastatingly charismatic.

I had met Russell Blackford earlier in the day, after conversing for several months on the Internet. He is a quietly-spoken but passionate atheist whose slight reserve and thoughtful manner belie the sometimes scathing tone of his blog, Metamagician and the Hellfire Club.

After the book launch, a rag-tag crowd of atheists meanders along Lygon Street and boards a Melbourne tram to one of the waterholes designated for the rare unscheduled moments of the Convention. A trip in a Melbourne tram, I find, is akin to standing inside a tin can and being shaken vigorously from side to side until the lid is removed and you are unceremoniously tumbled out, dazed and discombobulated, into the middle of the road. It is, in short, a religious experience.

We walk the short distance to Federation Square, an amazing piece of public post-modern architecture. After an obligatory beer at an outdoor table, we split up into smaller groups to dine at whichever nearby restaurant grabs our interest.

Although the Convention doesn’t start officially until Friday night, there are a host of events programmed during the day. At the bloggers’ breakfast, PZ Myers is encouraged to add a little Australian flavor to his communion wafer by spreading it with Vegemite.

Later in the day, local students, led by young rising star Jason Ball, launch the new Australian Freethought University Alliance. Meanwhile, older atheists, representing Australia’s diverse local atheist groups, meet at a nearby pub to discuss the formation of a national atheist network. As one of the convenors of that meeting I’m delighted to see so many groups represented and by the unanimous decision to begin work immediately on a project-based, goal-oriented national atheist alliance.

The goodwill generated by meeting in person achieved in a couple of hours what may have taken months on the Internet.

After such a busy time in the lead-up to the Convention, it’s rather a relief to frock up for the cocktail party and official launch on Friday night. I happily leave the running around to the hard-working, black-shirted volunteers while I drink champagne and devour generous helpings of hors d’oeuvres.

At last we are seated for the formal opening. David Nicholls, the Convention Committee chairman and president of the Atheist Foundation of Australia, gives a rousing opening speech in which he invites us to enjoy being “part of the majority” for a change. Comedian Sue-Ann Post, a self-confessed six foot lesbian, ex-Mormon, diabetic, comedian and writer, performs a deeply textured stand-up routine that transcends humour with frustration, anger, vulnerability, sadness and even a measure of forgiveness. Throughout, Post’s incredible intellect shines a penetrating light on the absurdity and tragedy of the religious experience.

Columnist and broadcaster Catherine Deveny follows with a tour-de-force excerpt from her one-woman stage show, “God is Bullshit: That’s the Good News.” In a frenetic dialogue in which she takes on the parts of a “cultural Catholic” and her atheist friend, Deveny powers through all the familiar arguments from both sides of the religious debate. “It’s my life, it’s my belief, fuck off!” she rages against the rational arguments of her atheist opponent as he methodically strips her of the remnants of her Catholicism. Again, the comedy is multi-layered and speaks directly to the experiences of many in the audience.

On Saturday morning, the Convention begins in earnest. It’s a revelation (if you’ll excuse the word) to see the cavernous expanse of the Melbourne Convention Centre filled with a sea of atheists! We’ve done what everyone told us was impossible — we have united and shown ourselves as a force to be reckoned with.

But I enter the Convention hall with some trepidation. The first presentation is from Australia’s elder statesman of atheism, radio broadcaster Phillip Adams. Adams, father of the modern Australian film industry, is a towering figure in Australian public life and an outspoken atheist. He has insisted on being the first speaker and his recent public utterances suggest that his sympathies lie more with the polite old-school atheism of Paul Kurtz than the brash and confrontational style of PZ Myers. The crowd is ripe for revolution and I fear Adams has brought a fire hose.

Adams’ speech, however, is tempered and fair. He acknowledges the need for us to be pro-active on issues concerning the separation of church and state, but warns against over-estimating our importance. Religious edifices will crumble, he says, because of internal, not external, forces.

One of the highlights of the Convention is the women’s panel, comprising four strong, articulate and passionate Australian atheist women: bioethicist Leslie Cannold. author and social worker Tanya Levin, secular education advocate and television commentator Jane Caro, and former Australian senator Lyn Allison. Levin, a refugee from Hillsong Church, points out that the Hillsong Women’s Convention is also on this weekend.

“I know which one I’d rather be at!” she says, to hoots and cheers from the audience.

“I’m finally getting to hang out with the grown-ups!” she adds with a grin.

A strong message from the women’s panel is that feminism often leads to atheism. An exemplar of that process is Taslima Nasrin, the Bangladeshi feminist and human rights activist who is exiled from her country and is the subject of five fatwas. Taslima brings the audience to tears as she speaks of the price she has paid for speaking out against the treatment of  women in Islam.

In a story filled with pathos, Taslima recounts her childhood doubts about the existence of Allah. Her mother tells her that if she says anything against Allah, her tongue will fall off. Young Taslima retreats to the privacy of the bathroom to the theory.

“Allah is a son of a bitch!” she says, and checks her tongue in the mirror. “Allah is a dog!” she says. Her tongue stays firmly in place and she has used it ever since to fight against injustice, superstition and inequality.

We must fight for the right to offend, says Taslima — without that right, freedom does not exist.

PZ Myers gives an entertaining and uncompromising presentation on the irreconcilable incompatibility of religion and science — a common theme for Convention speakers. Striding onto the stage after a screening of his starring role in Mr. Deity and the Science Advisor, PZ reminds the audience, “I am the only speaker who has video proof that I have the ear of God.”

“We shouldn’t criticize religion because it’s evil,” says PZ, “but because it’s wrong and makes you stupid.”

For me, the “star” of the Convention is British philosopher A.C. Grayling. His presentation is clear, entertaining and incisive. Speaking of the relationship between religion and science, he criticizes religion for making unquestioning faith a virtue and the Templeton Foundation for attempting to give religion respectability. Religion and science are not complementary, he insists, but he concedes that they share a common ancestor: Ignorance.

It is not Grayling’s presentation that turns me into an adoring fan, but his accessibility and kindness. At the Convention dinner on Saturday night, a friend confides that he would love Grayling to critique a chapter he’s written for Warren Bonnet’s forthcoming anthology of Australian atheism. Grayling is at the dinner, but my friend doesn’t want to impose. I’d met Grayling briefly the day before — just long enough to determine that he was approachable — so I offer to act as an intermediary.  Gathering my courage I approach his table and tentatively touch his arm. Grayling is warm and gracious. He’d be delighted to read the article and will be happy to provide feedback. Later, I encourage my friend to introduce himself. He mentions to Grayling how much he reminds  him of his late father. On hearing that my friend’s mother is also at the dinner,  Grayling asks for an introduction. What an absolute gentleman.

Warren Bonett and AC Grayling

At the end of the Convention, I introduce Warren to Grayling. Warren explains that he owns a science and philosophy bookshop which stocks all of Grayling’s books.

“Oh, I think I’ll be in your area for a writer’s festival next year. I’ll have a new book out by then,” says Grayling. “Perhaps I could do a book signing at your store?”

I don’t know if Grayling realizes what an incredible boost this spur-of-the-moment offer gave to a young, struggling bookstore proprietor, but I hope he might read this and know it was the cause of much post-convention rejoicing.

As the famous quote goes, “There are a million stories in the naked city….”  On the first day of the Convention I sit next to 87-year-old Beryl.

“I couldn’t miss this!” she says, “It’s history!”

In a pub, I meet Gold, an intimidating six-foot plus New Zealander with a shaved head, pierced ear and huge gothic, silver buckled boots. Gold turns out to be a warm-hearted, good-natured but passionate atheist who’s literally spent his last cent to fly over for the Convention.  Despite being penniless, he offers to help us set up a website for our new atheist alliance.

Patrick and Grace from the Charlotte Atheists and Agnostics of North Carolina are here too — after meeting online they’re spending their honeymoon at the Convention. We adopt them as honorary Aussies.

I sit next to April for the Dawkins’ presentation. “I’ve just retired and I’ve got time to spare,” she says, “Tell me how I can get involved!”

The Convention ends and we atheists disperse geographically, but the Internet knows no borders. In no time, Facebook is buzzing as new friends reconnect and bloggers and their readers relive and dissect the presentations of some of the world’s greatest thinkers. Australian atheism has come of age, networks have been forged, community has been strengthened, and there is a new air of urgency, enthusiasm, and commitment. Cats can be herded. Minorities can make a difference. A movement has begun.

Chrys Stevenson

Chrys Stevenson is an atheist activist from Queensland, Australia. A retired marketing executive, she attended university as a mature-age student, earning a first class honors degree in cultural studies, a bachelors degree with majors in history, literature and sociology and the University medal for academic excellence. Chrys is a founding member of her local Sunshine Coast Atheists group and sits on the Atheist Nexus international advisory board. She has recently completed a chapter on the history of atheism inAustralia for Warren Bonett’s soon-to-be-published anthology on Australian atheism.

This blog post originally appeared on the Sunshine Coast Atheists website.

This Easter, many of Australia’s church leaders abandoned their traditional Easter messages to issue dire warnings about the imminent onslaught of the heathen hoards.  Last month’s Global Atheist Convention attracted 2,500 people and a  torrent of publicity and it is clear that atheism is a dragon these holier-than-thou heroes are eager to slay.

Ironically, Australia’s atheist dragon was happily asleep in its cave until the persistent political posturing of religious institutions poked and prodded it into a fiery response.  In effect, Australia’s clergy are oiling up their rusty armour and mounting their sway-backed nags to battle a monster of their own creation.

It seems that that while Cardinal Pell, Archbishop Jensen, Bishop Fisher, Reverend Moyes and theologian, Scott Stephens are ardent supporters of freedom of religion, they’re not so big on freedom from religion.  For years now, Australian churches have been quietly insinuating their way into our political and educational institutions.  The now (presumably defunct) Lyons Forum became an influential conservative Christian faction within the Howard Government.  Meanwhile, Prime Minister Howard and Deputy PM Costello happily kowtowed to the prejudices of the religious right in return for the bloc votes of the mega-churches.  The new Liberal Party leader, Tony Abbott has boasted publicly that the eight Catholics in the Howard cabinet were influential in stemming the tide of secular humanism through that Government’s decisions to overturn the Northern Territory’s euthanasia law, ban gay marriage, stop the ACT heroin trial and try to reduce abortion numbers through [Christian] pregnancy support counselling.  For Abbott, the [Catholic driven] DLP is alive and well and living inside the Liberal/National Coalition.

The Christian agenda is transparent.  The Australian Christian Lobby openly admits their mission is to ensure that Christian principles and ethics influence the way Australians are governed.  Similarly, the National Alliance of Christian Leaders argue that Christian moral values and ideals must become the prevailing standard of the culture.  The Family First Party, heavily weighted with Pentecostals, wields its influence in the Australian Senate and the Legislative Councils of New South Wales and South Australia.  Even the Exclusive Brethren cult has privileged access to our parliamentarians through accredited lobbyists – thanks, in part, to the sponsorship of Reverend Moyes.

The insidious reach of the religious right seems even to have penetrated the Australian Labor Party – once the bastion of Australian secularism.  Despite Rudd branding the Exclusive Brethren a dangerous cult, his government has ploughed millions of tax-payers dollars into funding schools which isolate the children of the cultists from the wider community.  More millions have gone into expanding Howard’s ill-conceived school chaplaincy scheme which installs largely unqualified evangelists into a state school system which is, supposedly, secular.  While Prime Minister Rudd happily attended the Australian Christian Lobby’s conference in November, he failed even to respond to invitations to attend the Global Atheist Convention in March – does the ALP now represent only Christian Australians?

Economically, Australians buckle under high state, federal and local property taxes as they carry the burden for the billions of dollars not paid by churches.  The Catholic Church, for example, earns more than $15 billion dollars a year in revenue from various profit-making ventures but pays not a skerrick of tax.  It owns more than $100 billion worth of property but pays no rates.  The ordinary punters, ‘working families’ as the Prime Minister is so fond of saying, pick up the slack.  We are not just talking about exemptions for charities here – the Catholic Church has a vast financial empire including private schools, aged-care homes and hostels, hospitals, superannuation funds, insurance companies, a multi-storey carpark and a vineyard.  Profits from these enterprises are not taxed and there is no requirement for the church to show how the profits are disbursed.  Similarly, Hillsong Church rakes in over $40 million a year – untaxed.  How much of that goes to actual charitable causes and how much goes towards proselytizing and Pastor Brian Houston’s property holdings on Bondi Beach?  No-one knows.

Less than 7.5% of Australians attend Church on a regular basis (Zuckerman, 2005).  Probably close to 50% or more have no real interest in religion beyond claiming a nominal affiliation with the church into which they were baptized on the quinquennial census form.  And yet, we forego billions of tax dollars to support institutions which are intent on infiltrating our political and education systems and imposing their particular religious values on to the rest of us – whether we like it or not.

And what are these ‘Christian values’ religious lobbyists wish to promote?  At least 80% of Australians believe the terminally ill should be free to choose a medically assisted death while the Catholic Church prides itself on having vetoed that right through its political influence.  Jim Wallace from the Australian Christian Lobby would like to see women stripped of their reproductive rights by outlawing abortion.  Tony Abbott argues that Jesus would have turned away boat people.  Churches consistently seek exemptions from anti-discrimination laws, so that they may continue to discriminate against their fellow Australians on the basis of their gender, sexual orientation, religion or marital status.  Polls consistently show that Australians are vehemently opposed to compulsory internet filtering while, under the influence of the Australian Christian Lobby, the Labor Party stubbornly persists with a policy which has earned international condemnation.

But it is we atheists who are now accused of being ‘morally bankrupt’.  Yes, we godless infidels who argue for freedom of speech, freedom from religion as well as freedom of religion, equality – regardless of gender, sexual orientation or religious affiliation (or lack thereof), the right of children to grow up without religious indoctrination and the right of women and the terminally ill to have dominion over their own bodies – we are accused of having no values.

Little wonder that 2,500 people attended the recent Global Atheist Convention and that membership in Australia’s many atheist organizations is booming.  Little wonder that atheists, once content to sleep in quietly on Sundays, have been prodded into action and are now standing up and shouting, “No more!”  Little wonder that atheists and secularists are uniting and mobilizing politically in order to fight back against the incipient influence of an unrepresentative conservative religious minority.

We have seen the long-term damage caused to America’s political, legal and education systems by a politicized religious right: a supreme court stacked with conservative Christian judges; an evangelical President who defied the UN to take his (and our) nation to war based on his conviction that ‘Gog and Magog’ were at work in the Middle East; court cases over the teaching of creationism in public schools; and a population increasingly riven by sectarian differences.  Is that what we want for Australia?

Australia’s religious institutions have pushed their luck too far.  They have taken advantage of Australians’ political apathy to push their agendas and their values on to a largely secular public while relying on us to fund the assault on our freedoms through billions of dollars in tax exemptions!  They have poked and prodded and intruded upon our supposedly secular government and education systems, assuming that the apathetic atheist dragon would merely raise one sleepy eyelid and return to its rest.

They were wrong.  They have pushed us too far.  Secular and non-religious Australians are beginning to speak out and fight back and, for that, we are accused of being ‘morally bankrupt’, communistic, and akin to Nazis.  These outrageous insults are the last refuge of those who can see their empires crumbling around them.  Australian atheism and secularism is growing apace because the churches have overstepped the mark.  Public opinion is rising against the churches.  The dragon they have awoken will not be defeated by the ineffectual huffing and puffing of the clergy.  A fire has been started, and it is spreading fast.  The dragon is awake and the churches have only themselves to blame.

Chrys Stevenson

Reference:

Zuckerman, Phil (2005), Atheism: Contemporary Rates and Patterns, Cambridge University Press