The Art of Forgetting: When Amnesia Becomes a Political Tool
There’s something almost poetic about the way memory fails us—or conveniently disappears—when the stakes are highest. Jeremy Greenwood’s recent performance in the witness box is a masterclass in this art, reminiscent of Alan Bond’s infamous memory lapses in the 1990s. But what makes this particularly fascinating is how Greenwood’s amnesia isn’t just a personal quirk; it’s a symptom of a much larger issue in politics and power.
The Great Deflector’s Strategy
Greenwood, a key witness in the Independent Commission Against Corruption’s (ICAC) inquiry into political donations, has turned “I don’t recall” into his personal mantra. Personally, I think this isn’t just about forgetting—it’s about deflection, a tactic as old as politics itself. What many people don’t realize is that memory lapses in these situations aren’t random; they’re strategic. Greenwood’s inability to remember meeting Jean-Claude Perrottet, the brother of a former premier, or the details of “sham” invoices issued to Catholic Schools NSW, reeks of calculated evasion.
From my perspective, this raises a deeper question: How often do we see powerful figures weaponize forgetfulness to avoid accountability? It’s not just about Greenwood or Bond; it’s a pattern. When shown his own text messages—messages that clearly implicate him in dodgy dealings—Greenwood dismissed them as “stupid jokes.” This isn’t just denial; it’s gaslighting on a grand scale.
The Filthy Money Trail
One thing that immediately stands out is the phrase “filthy schools money.” Greenwood’s WhatsApp exchange with Jean-Claude Perrottet, where he mentions this term, is more than just a slip of the tongue. What this really suggests is a culture of corruption where public funds are siphoned off for political gain. Catholic Schools NSW’s money, meant for education, was allegedly used to fund branch-stacking activities for the Liberal Party. If you take a step back and think about it, this isn’t just about financial misconduct—it’s about the erosion of trust in institutions.
A detail that I find especially interesting is how Greenwood and his business partner, Christian Ellis, operated with such impunity. Ellis, now conveniently in England, has claimed he “cannot assist” the inquiry. This isn’t just coincidence; it’s coordination. The fact that Greenwood was communicating with Ellis even during the inquiry hints at a network of collusion that goes far beyond one individual’s memory lapses.
The Broader Implications
What makes Greenwood’s case so compelling is its connection to broader trends in politics. In an era where transparency is touted as a virtue, opacity remains the rule. The ICAC inquiry is more than just a probe into one man’s actions; it’s a window into systemic corruption. Personally, I think this case highlights how easily accountability can be subverted when those in power prioritize self-preservation over integrity.
Another angle that’s often overlooked is the psychological aspect. Greenwood’s amnesia isn’t just a legal strategy—it’s a coping mechanism. When faced with the consequences of one’s actions, the human mind has a way of shutting down. But in the context of politics, this becomes a tool for evasion rather than a cry for help.
The Future of Accountability
If there’s one takeaway from Greenwood’s saga, it’s that memory—or the lack thereof—can be a powerful weapon. But it’s also a fragile one. As technology advances, the days of relying on “I don’t recall” as a defense may be numbered. Text messages, emails, and digital footprints leave little room for plausible deniability. What this really suggests is that the future of accountability lies in how we preserve and interpret these digital records.
In my opinion, the Greenwood case is a wake-up call. It’s not just about one man’s amnesia; it’s about the systemic issues that allow such behavior to thrive. Until we address the root causes of corruption—the lack of transparency, the culture of impunity, and the erosion of trust—cases like Greenwood’s will continue to surface.
Final Thoughts
As I reflect on Greenwood’s performance in the witness box, I’m struck by how much it mirrors our collective amnesia about corruption in politics. We’re quick to forget, to move on, to accept the next scandal as business as usual. But if there’s one thing Greenwood’s case teaches us, it’s that forgetting isn’t an option. The question is: Will we remember long enough to demand change?
