From protest laws to public commentary on writers and festivals, the NSW premier’s interventions reveal a troubling impatience with dissent and democratic restraint.

Premier Chris Minns’ decisions and statements over recent months show that he takes a patronising attitude to the state’s people. His reaction to the tragic events at Bondi Beach in December misjudged the situation badly. The linking of pro-Palestine demonstrations to the isolated actions of two extremists was bizarre and so was his resort to restrictive legislation and increased police powers.

More recently, perhaps over-excited about the possibility that blood would flow in the streets during the visit of the very nasty president of Israel, the premier has entered into literary debates. If there are political implications in the invitation extended by the Newcastle Writers Festival to Randa Abdel-Fattah, it is hardly the premier’s role to comment.

Adelaide Writers Festival had to be abandoned following the decision to censor Abdel-Fattah. Numerous other writers withdrew from the event in protest.

It is doubtful whether the premier has read Abdel-Fattah’s Discipline. It is a nuanced work which analyses the personal burdens placed on Palestinian-Australians, Arab-Australians and Muslim-Australians by displacement and loss of national identity – and indeed by the ignorance of fellow Australians. Abdel-Fattah’s books should help to correct that ignorance.

If the premier has read the book, he might not have understood its serious and balanced themes. What he should understand is that any writers festival will invite authors based on the respect in which they are held by readers and critics and reviewers, and Abdel-Fattah qualifies eminently on those grounds. But politicians generally are not known for nuanced thinking.

Free speech has meaning only if it is free for everyone regardless of their background. Books must be judged on their content, not on the ephemeral political context. When politicians seek to silence an author, even by seemingly offhand comments, they cross into an area where angels should fear to tread. If we allow Abdel-Fattah to be silenced, then we accept that the politician’s ill-informed opinion is the arbiter not only of literary taste but also of acceptable political comment. Let the book burning begin.

During the First World War, Australian society was under even greater pressure than it is today. The debates over Prime Minister Hughes’ attempts to please the British Empire by introducing conscription for military service were bitter and divisive. The song I Didn’t Raise My Son to Be a Soldier was a rallying cry for the anti-conscriptionists and was given particularly effective voice by Cecilia John.

Pressure was brought to bear at rallies when serving troops were mobilised to disrupt meetings. The military censors banned the song, but anti-conscriptionists were defiant and refused to be intimidated. When told the song was prohibited, they would immediately sing it enthusiastically.

At one point, the leader of the peace movement in Queensland wrote to the military censor in Brisbane to object to the prohibition. He put the case quite plainly. It did not speak well of the courage of the military if they were afraid of a song. Nor does it say much about the integrity of our political leaders if they are afraid of a book.

Over the centuries, authors have been victimised by dictatorial authorities. Those who peddle intolerant ideologies have placed works on the Roman Catholic Index, have seized books said to be indecent after importation to Australia, and have persecuted writers such as Andre Solzhenitsyn and Salman Rushdie. What a patronising attitude it is for politicians to assume readers cannot make up their own minds about the content of a book.

It would be a fitting outcome should the premier’s inane comments about Abdel-Fattah lead to increased interest, sales and borrowings. Any writers festival would be crazy to listen to ill-informed suggestions which are based on a belief in the desirability of political censorship. They might suggest that the premier read Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451 or the dystopias of George Orwell, Aldous Huxley, Stephen Fry, Ben Elton and Richard Flanagan before he makes suggestions supporting censorship. Chances are, that would keep him out of harm’s way until the next election.