The currency of truth

We have this idea called Freedom of Speech. I like the idea but I'm not sure how much it is believed in, or practised. It means everyone is allowed to say what they think and even air ideas that aren't popular. My friends parents remember a time when politicians tried to persuade people of their position, now I get the feeling that powerful people persuade politicians of what their position should be.

I'm not that educated in national politics, but it seems to me that if the people in charge of running the country can be told what they should say, and say what they're told, it's not a very good starting point for a nation that reveres its entitlement to free speech.

I'm going to give an example of the manipulative power that authority can have over truth. Last time I visited my mother, I spent a good part of the eight hour train trip home listening to the conversation of two people behind me (they were loud, I think most people on the carriage were listening). Firstly they spoke of where they were going: one, a young woman, was returning home to Sydney after staying in Tamworth for the past fortnight. The other was taking the train to Sydney, then finding his way to the airport, catching a flight to Beijing and then another one up to Shenyang (twenty-something hours of travel).

Then they spoke about education, the devotion of Chinese parents, the one-child policy, valentines day, arranged marriages and culturally specific dating habits. Then they spoke of their careers: she had worked in politics for many years and had recently retired from that position. I now forget what her new job was. He had been a millionaire, then started a non-for-profit organisation providing white goods to unemployed Aboriginal people in the Northern Territory, when that eventually ended he decided to be a teacher and now teaches conversational English at a private college in Shenyang.

Then they spoke for a long time about their personal projects: she had just been interviewing Aboriginal people in Tamworth about their heritage and the traditions still alive in their families for the past fortnight. She had come into contact with some Indigenous people through her church, and this was just a hobby she had developed. She edits the tapes she makes and gives them back to the people who she's interviewed.
He had been writing a book for the past three years about people he had met who were implicated in World War Two. It started with his neighbour who he gradually came to know through many over the fence conversations. He decided to write down the amazing things this old man was telling him. He eventually collated quite a few stories from different war vets he met, but there was one which was really going to sell the book once it was published.

The protagonist of this particular tale is the son of a ridiculously famous Hollywood actor. The details here become a little shrouded in mystery, but this actor was around and somehow negatively entangled in Nazi Germany. The son of the actor, who related his story to the man on the train, spent some of his childhood in horrific war conditions. Apparently the story is a captivating snapshot of a child's involuntary entrenchment in a political tornado and so well told that its merit lies primarily in its innocent truth, not its connection with an acting star.

The man on the train writing the book was invited to have dinner with the son in the home of his wealthy father. The man made clear his intentions to publish his book. At this the actor tried to buy him out. Because Hollywood is owned by Jewish families, an actor with such a blemish would never again find work, so this story is a big secret. The integrity of the author was such that he declined copious amounts of money, attempted to reunite father and son, and has kept his book to himself for the meantime (I'm assuming until he can accrue an iron fisted band of attorneys). But the silencing is enforced firstly (albeit inexplicitly) by the power of the Jewish Hollywood lords, secondly by the power of the actor and his money, and thirdly by the personal choices of the author.

I know that was long-winded, but I enjoyed relating it. The moral is that we do have choice, even if the choice is to keep quiet. It's not a failure to refuse to act in some situations. Gandhi's starvation strikes were non-acts, but these absences of action raised widespread awareness. It can be frustrating to remain silent, and on some occasions silence is an act of freedom of speech. And often it is infinitely more frustrating for the opposing authority... Any teacher who's had a student who refuses to communicate knows what I'm on about!

I hope my man on the train eventually publishes his book. In the meantime it's heartening to see that power and money need not always buy out the truth and there is identity in silence.