Now that we may have a date for the plebiscite on marriage equality , Andrea Myles’s account of the passengers on a Sydney bus ejecting a vocal racist should be mandatory reading.

As she says, it’s a “pretty neat example of 50-odd people keeping their cool, making it calmly clear that none of us was tolerating racism, and having the confidence to sort it out.”

That’s the kind of collective civic courage we’ll require to win the yes vote – and to keep the bigots quiet while we do so.

Tony Abbott’s plebiscite – floated, fairly transparently, so as to derail momentum for marriage reform – has provoked considerable controversy among progressives. But if it’s now upon us, we need a comprehensive victory for equality.



Here are a few thoughts on how that might be achieved.

First, we shouldn’t understate what’s at stake.

To win over waverers, activists will be tempted to downplay the significance of marriage equality, suggesting it’s a simple administrative reform that will leave society entirely unchanged.

That was more or less the approach republicans (under the leadership of Malcolm Turnbull, as it happens) took during the disastrous constitutional referendum of 1999.

But if you’re ensuring people that nothing will change, you’re implying that a Yes vote doesn’t matter. Why should anyone get excited about a campaign promising nothing? In fact, the plebiscite in 2017 will matter a lot – and we need to say that loudly and clearly.

A victory for the Yes case (which is what all the polls promise) will stand (particularly if it’s overwhelming) as a statement of mass opposition to homophobia and similar bigotry, something unparalleled in Australian history. It will be a democratic reform won in the face of the extraordinary incompetence and malice of the political class – and, for that reason, a reform in which millions of ordinary voters will feel a personal stake.

The implications will be felt within both major parties. Within the Liberal party, social conservatives pretend that their opposition to same-sex marriage reflects the common sense of ordinary suburbanites against the social engineering of elites. A popular vote for Yes will pull that particular rug out from underneath them, leaving the Liberal right exposed as the isolated extremists they truly are.

Inside Labor, the plebiscite will bring an end to the longstanding willingness of apparatchiks to pander to prejudice in return for perceived electoral advantage. Nicola Roxon’s endorsements of John Howard’s prohibition on same-sex marriage; Kevin Rudd and Julia Gillard playing footsies with the Australian Christian Lobby: such shenanigans will be much less viable after a big Yes win.

That’s all quite a big deal. If we want to turn passive supporters of marriage equality into active campaigners for the Yes case, we need to stress how important a victory this might be.

The second point follows from the first.

We need to mobilise people. We want active involvement, not merely passive support at the ballot box. The most recent Melbourne march for marriage equality brought 10,000 people onto the street. Other cities drew equally impressive crowds.

By contrast, the anti-equality groups have never managed any sizeable crowd for a public event.

Mass mobilisations will inspire Yes supporters to take the arguments back to their friends, neighbours and workmates: a grassroots army agitating for change everywhere.

But a constant stream of pro-reform rallies, meetings and marches will also show people affected by whatever bigotry emerges in the campaign that they’re not alone; that thousand and thousands of others care about them and their well being; that it’s the bigots who are marginal and isolated and, well, weird.

Think of Myles’ piece. Being subjected to an anti-Asian bigot when trapped on public transport could have been a deeply dispiriting experience. Instead, Myles says that, after the passengers collectively shut the racist down, she left the bus with a massive spring in her step.

That’s the power of solidarity. It’s a power we can use to make the campaign that now seems upon us an inspiring demonstration of acceptance and inclusivity, despite the best efforts of those preaching hate.

Which brings us to point three.

We must hold the No side to account for any homophobia they unleash.

One suspects that, as soon as the campaign’s underway, the major anti-equality organisations will moderate their rhetoric. To make any showing in the plebiscite, the Australian Christian Lobby and similar outfits must pitch themselves to a secular mainstream that’s overwhelmingly hostile to scriptural-based homophobia. Expect, then, a rhetoric invoking “tradition” and calls for religious freedom rather than the old-fashioned Bible thumping (which only works when lobbying sympathetic politicians).

Hence the importance of insisting the leaders of the No case either denounce or wear whatever hate-mongering that does arise.

If they refuse to stand against the more overt bigotry of their supporters, they’ll lose the mask of respectability they so desperately need. On the other hand, if they do condemn homophobia, they’ll split a campaign that in the final analysis, rests on the belief that same-sex attracted people aren’t entitled to equality.

That choice illustrates the profound problem that the right now faces.

Conservatives know that, if marriage equality won a popular vote in Ireland, it will almost certainly win here.

How, then, do they orient to their coming defeat?

One suspects that many of the pundits and politicians who have been most vocal in opposing marriage reform will seek to tip-toe quietly away from the issue, reluctant to be associated with a losing cause.

Again, we shouldn’t let them happen. If the vote’s now happening, we have a chance to prove, once and for all, that Cory Bernardi and Andrew Bolt and all the rest of the ilk, represent a sad little minority.

For understandable reasons, many progressives didn’t want a plebiscite. But it now seems almost certain. As Joe Hill famously said, don’t mourn, organise.