Australian Labor Party. - One Halal of a Story

ONE HALAL OF A STORY

SAM DASTYARI

ONE HALAL OF A STORY

MELBOURNE UNIVERSITY PRESS

An imprint of Melbourne University Publishing Limited

Level 1, 715 Swanston Street, Carlton, Victoria 3053, Australia

www.mup.com.au

First published 2017

Text Sam Dastyari, 2017

Design and typography Melbourne University Publishing Limited, 2017

This book is copyright. Apart from any use permitted under the Copyright Act 1968 and subsequent amendments, no part may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted by any means or process whatsoever without the prior written permission of the publishers.

Every attempt has been made to locate the copyright holders for material quoted in this book. Any person or organisation that may have been overlooked or misattributed may contact the publisher.

Typeset in 12/15pt Bembo by Cannon Typesetting

Cover design by Philip Campbell Design

Printed in Australia by McPhersons Printing Group

National Library of Australia Cataloguing-in-Publication entry

Dastyari, Sam, author.

One halal of a story/Sam Dastyari.

9780522872088 (paperback)

9780522872095 (ebook)

Includes index.

Dastyari, Sam.

Dastyari, SamFamily.

Australian Labor Party.

PoliticiansAustraliaBiography.

To Naser and Ella, for sacrificing everything to bring us to Australia.

CONTENTS

I

THE BOX

THE RAW INGREDIENTS

I could tell from the expression on her face that this wasnt what she was expecting. When I told the editor of the Macquarie Dictionary, Sue Butler, that I would take her out for lunch to sample one of the best halal snack packs (HSPs) in Australia, I think she was imagining a more refined establishment. Not that she said so. She was far too politevery much part of Australias literary establishmentto make a ruckus. But I could see from her slightly frozen face that I had caught her off guard.

Metro One Kebabs on Liverpool Road in Ashfield, Sydney, is a traditional kebab shop. We have all been to oneusually in the early hours of the morning; often after a big night out. The golden hour, one owner tells me, is 2 a.m. That magic hour is what makes the economics of a kebab store work, he effuses. Metro is run by Oktay Sahin and his Turkish family. It is one of 900 kebab joints dotted throughout Sydney. And, in the wake of the creation of the halal snack pack, and the attendant media coverage in 2016 and beyond, those joints have experienced a mini-boom.

So are you ready to make one? I ask her.

A kebab? she quizzes me.

No. A halal snack pack.

For someone who had requested that we meet in order to hand me the Macquarie Dictionary Peoples Choice Award for helping to nudge halal snack pack over the line as the word of the year, Sue knew worryingly little about the product. The name had overwhelmingly won Macquaries annual peoples poll, and the judges had put it forward for inclusion in the next edition of the dictionary.

Have you ever eaten one before? I ask.

Kind of, she replies. Which, frankly, I take to mean no.

OK. We start with the container, because therell be so much going on; things will need to be kept under control. Then theres the basethat is, the chipsthe foundation from which we build our delicacy. Next comes the cheese, a layer of salty smoothness. On top of that we pile up the meat.

Hitting a semi-reverential tone, I conjure the snack packs summit. Lastly, and most importantly, the holy trinity of saucesgarlic, BBQ and chilli.

My layered monologue was greeted by a long silent look from Sue.

Is that it? Sue asks.

On reflection, this was a much more poignant question than she had intended. Sure, on the face of it, a halal snack pack is just a creative and gut-busting marriage of the English chippy and the Middle Eastern kebab. But it is so much more than that.

I could have told Sue that this assemblage of ingredients amounts to a social statement, a uniquely Aussie expression of multiculturalism. For in a multicultural setting, food has always been a critical tool for breaking down barriers between people. The embracing of this halal food, then, is a tongue-in-cheek way of rejecting reactionary politics and divisive ignorance. I say this because while it might specifically refer to food prepared in keeping with Islamic traditions, the word halal has come to mean much more than that. In the language of far-right politicians and social-media trolls, halal is code for Muslim. So just as rejecting halal has become a way for bigots to nudge nudge wink wink their values to each other, tucking into a halal snack pack speaks to the embrace of a more open and pluralistic Australia. That, and a raging hangover.

I could have told Sue about the way my Twitter feed exploded on election night 2016, when I invited Pauline Hanson to share a halal snack pack with me on live television. Nearing midnight, as the counting confirmed that Pauline was soon to join me in the Senate, she responded with a firm Not happening; not interested in halal. With one sentence she set the tone for everything that was to come for One Nations next moment in the political spotlight: the barely veiled dislike of Muslims, the offhand dismissal of anything that didnt fit within their narrow Anglo worldview.

I could even have told Sue that, after inadvertently sparking a social-media storm with a half-joking speech to the Senate extolling the virtues of the halal snack pack, I thought a bit more about the humble HSP and happened upon some literary inspiration. The snack pack provided the prompt for a very unconventional book on politics: the one youre holding now.

While most political tomes are designed to lionise the subject, mine has all the layers, juiciness and spices of the snack pack. Barely contained, founded on a solid base, smooth in parts, occasionally breaking outmy book will trek some unusual paths. The snack pack provides me with a frame within which I can write about my shortcomings, my failures, my anxiety, my ability to ride a career on an upward trajectory and my misfortune in experiencing the humiliation of having to resign from the Labor front bench. My book is also about learning and pushing on. But I didnt say any of these things to Sue. They would have sounded too far-fetchedpontifications of a foodie overheating himself at the altar of cultural symbolism; more fantastical than reasonable. I didnt want Sue to think that I was reading way too much into the chips, cheese and meat that so splendidly jostled in the HSP.

So I just say, Yes. Thats it. What do you think? after she takes her first bite.

Oh, its very different.

Do you like it?

Its kebab and chips. Whats not to like? she smiles.

You dont know the half of it, I answer her.

We kept on eating while a queue of people lined up to order their own HSPs.

Its the evening of 3 June 2017 and I am in London for the UK elections, and explaining over dinner to three of my closest friendsRichard Angell, Andy Bagnall and Jo Milliganabout how I have structured this book like a snack pack.

A snack pack? Richard asks. What on earth is a snack pack? I am about to explain when the conversation is interrupted by screaming in the street outside our restaurant in Borough Market. As we turn to look, a woman runs past the window clutching her neck, which is covered in blood. There is panic in the room and we all dive to hide under the tables. Some take command, directing people in whispers. Some get hysterical: Its another attack!. I feel a great longing for my family. I want to be with my wife and my kids. I want to be back in control, and in the warmth of my parents house. I stay calm by starting at the beginning, and asking myself: How did I get here?.