It’s never a good sign when you turn on your phone to find a dozen messages asking if you are OK. For reasons you will come to understand, I only get those messages when something awful has happened. So on Monday, when I came out of an all-day meeting on antisemitism and picked up the messages from friends, I clicked across to check the news with real dread.
The last time I’d received a similar barrage of messages was when former UK MP Ann Widdecombe was killed earlier this year. As I read the news about the alleged attack on Australian MP Helen Haines, the dread I felt was followed by what I can best describe as a punch to the gut. The despair that another elected representative had been so brutally injured.
Jo Cox MP, my late wife, was murdered in 2016 in her constituency in Yorkshire, England by a far-right extremist as she went about her constituency work. Helen’s story reminded me of what happened to Jo. Both incidents took place in a small town far from the corridors of power.
Helen, like Jo, clearly has a deep connection with her community. Even their names connected them (Jo’s first name was Helen – though she always used Jo as her main name). When something like this happens it’s impossible not to feel yourself back in the moment of your own loss.
My immediate reaction was to hope to God she survives – I remembered how I prayed the same as I heard the news about Jo’s attack. I quickly worried about her family, the impact on them, and immediately recalled the impact on mine. And then of course you worry about the impact on the country, its democracy and the values that underpin it.
Practically – unless you are part of her medical team – there is not much that most Australians can do to help Helen directly. Or even to comfort her family (though public solidarity really does matter). But what you can do is be part of the response.
Extract — continue reading at the source.
