Because If Anyone Lays a Finger on Australia, We Will Turn Them to Slag

Our College of Cardinals points out a wonderful piece in the Sydney Morning Herald by Adele Horin, an Australian lady who will soon be entertaining a young French woman. She prepares for the inevitable discussion of foreign policy.

It is never easy to explain to the French, even when they wipe the smirk off their face, why Australia is involved in the Iraq quagmire. Australians strike them as an irreverent lot. So why, the French ask in that earnest manner born of too many years at university, does Australia act like America's … ? They wave their hands about, in that Gallic style, seeking a word they never learnt at the lycee.

"Lap-dog," I offer helpfully. And, over wattle-seed pavlova that I press on them, I embark on a long-winded explanation of our sycophancy towards the US.

The ANZUS treaty, our fear of the Japanese, Chinese, and Indonesians, and of course the terrorists, all get a guernsey. We need the US on side just in case …

You know how superior the French can sound. "Perhaps if you were not so close to America, you would have less to fear," a young French house-guest once suggested.

Adele is describing the US as an insurance policy. Insurance policies are not taken out to remedy damages done in a fender-bender. They're taken out so that when the out-of-control semi crushes the rear half of your car while a school bus swerves into the front and you end up with ashtray-sized pieces of car and yourself in the hospital for two months, someone will take care of you.

"Perhaps if you were not so close to America" is a gamble, like driving without insurance. Being our close ally is not.

The USS Bunker Hill leaving my home town, heading for waters near Australia.
Given what a great group the Aussies are, insurance adjuster is a role I don't mind playing at all.