This is a year of at least three state elections, and quite possibly a number of federal by-elections. There could even be a general federal election, including a half-Senate one, though I doubt that a well-advised governor-general would grant a very early dissolution simply on demand or request. In any event, a new political season has come upon us, and some of the political offerings on January 26 will be carefully crafted. Not so much as a polite, respectful, well-meaning, apolitical and unifying statement of the joys of being Australian, but so as to clothe the politician and his, or her, party with the appearance of being the only patriots, and the only true guardians of the commonwealth, with the other being a threat to the national security, to law and order, and to an older Australia where "new Australians" knew their place.

If the past half-decade – perhaps the past two decades – is any guide, there is no longer anything much in the way of a convention about decency, a bipartisan moment, or a time when all Australians – from those who came here 45,000 years ago to those who came yesterday – can stand together. Instead, it will seem an opportunity to promote hatred, intolerance and resentment.

From some of the players, the words will seem consciously intended to divide. Not only that but to panic at the possibility that parts of the nation, particularly in the south-east, are in the thralls of rebel African gangs, with little old ladies afraid to go down the street to a restaurant. The police, now imagined as guardians of our way of life, are said to feel constrained in their capacity to defend us. They are shacked to a lickspittle and lenient judiciary, and a state government addicted to appeasing the multicultural lobby, to political correctness, and to disrespecting the flag, the Queen and, probably, God.

Such speakers will also, of course, suggest that those who question the appropriateness of January 26 as the national holiday are being "divisive". Some political flashpoints, perhaps particularly in North Korea, may be used to suggest we should suspend fractious discourse, and fall in silently behind our elected leaders.

That will be appalling and unworthy enough. But one can be reasonably certain that there will be others who will act as though it were Malcolm Turnbull, not Donald Trump, who spoke scathingly of would-be migrants from "shithole" countries such as Haiti and Africa, and wondered wistfully why we are not getting more migrants from Norway.

Others, sincerely reiterating their belief that Australia Day should not be dispossession day, will seem to develop their argument to suggest that the only possible response to our history should be of shame, regret and rejection of any sense of achievement. They will seem the more virtuous because of their distaste (which I share) for the American style of flag-waving, flag-draping, martial and civic display, and organised efforts to conscript Australians into having "organised fun" instead of a slow and sleepy day off at the hottest time of the year. A peaceful day, just before school resumes, work becomes more earnest and demanding, and politicians return to Canberra.

I think the date of Australia Day should be changed, but I'm unsure that one creates the consensus about doing so from inviting widespread hatred of the nation and its people, apart from, of course, those who were so rudely dispossessed.

We should condemn those who try to appropriate Australia Day for their own political purposes, taking the occasion to set groups of people against each other. But that does not mean that the day deserves a bland and anodyne speech, incapable of offending anyone. It can be a time for thoughtful reflection about the sort of society we have. About the sort of society we could be. It can be a time when governments rededicate themselves to great national tasks, and others politely, but firmly, suggest different goals, different priorities, and different classes of privileged people at the top of the table.

It can be, probably should be, a time for some honest criticism of the smallness and meanness of some visions of the nation, and some call for imagination, adoption of higher standards and more worthy aspirations. That doesn't, of course, involve vilifying those already subject to discrimination, segregation and popular abuse; more often, it involves chiding some of the powerful whose actions have aggravated their problems.

A Malcolm Turnbull Australia Day speech often sounds like his accession speech, at which he expresses his pleasure at being here at such a wonderful moment. It says familiar and predictable things, and genuflects at most of the predictable altars, including multiculturalism. It rarely inspires, and, if from one of the better speakers in Parliament, is never memorable.

But one gets the impression, from his public appearances and performances this year, that he now actually wants to say something. It's at the risk of subordinating a national day to a partisan purpose, and prostituting his own reputation, such as it remains, for decency and dignity in his bully pulpit.

But I fear that while it may please some of those of his own general persuasion, it will yet further disappoint, perhaps enrage, some of those whose hopes were raised by his defeat of Tony Abbott, and the hoped-for end of the mean, spiteful and polarising team Australia that Abbott led.

There's no accident or coincidence about playing the race card against "African gangs". It's part of a conscious, concerted and continuing political strategy. Australia Day is yet another occasion for politicians to blackguard people perceived as aliens, to threaten them, and accuse them of being un-Australian.

Someone has decided that the only hope of political survival, or even of facing the deficits in the opinion polls, is by hammering national security, strong borders, and aggressive and punitive law and order as partisan issues, and creating scapegoats from the "other", whom right-thinking Australians can fear, despise and be licensed to discriminate against. Turnbull, once able to stand up to shock jocks, now realises he must pander to their prejudices, and to their instant and simplistic solutions to all problems.

A prime minister of similar oomph, vision and charisma, Billy McMahon, used the occasion of Australia Day in 1972 – 46 years ago – to dash the hopes of Aborigines that they might get some form of land rights, at least in the Northern Territory. The reason given – that it would somehow privilege Aborigines at the expense of other hardworking and worthy Australians – was eerily similar to the explanation Turnbull gave last year to reject Aboriginal suggestions of a treaty and constitutional referendum. The decision was, of course, drafted for and pushed upon McMahon by his Coalition partners in the then Country (now National) Party; McMahon, like Turnbull, was ever putty in their hands.

A consequence was the setting-up of the Aboriginal embassy on the terrace in front of the then Parliament House, and one of the longest, and in many respects most effective, protests in Australian history. It reproaches us to this day. History has not treated well McMahon's leadership, nor his catalogue of excuses for doing nothing. It's hard to think it will be kinder to modern incumbents.

There have been politicians who have used the occasion of Australia Day to make a thoughtful – sometimes heretical – speech about Australia, its people, its past and its future. They did not all come from the left of politics, but the ones I remember best were the annual speeches from John (Joh) Dawkins, at various times minister for education, finance and the treasurer.

In 1991, for example, he said it was time to reactivate the Whitlam government's vision of improving the quality of life. This was not a sentiment likely to have been supported by either then prime minister Bob Hawke or then treasurer Paul Keating, both of whom thought that the key to electoral success was being as different from Whitlam as possible.

Dawkins thought one could restore the vision thing, and the idealism of the Whitlam era, without losing sight of economic realities, as (he said) Whitlam had.

"Despite the mismatch of the Whitlam dream with economic reality, it is now time to revisit the concept, and review his comprehensive image of what Australia could become."

Whitlam had big achievements in Aboriginal rights, ethnic community needs, the arts, universal healthcare, concern for the environment, a more independent foreign policy and urban planning.

"He was, in short, about building greater quality into the fabric and psyche of Australia. And it is to that search for improved quality which we must return, but it must be comprehensive and balanced."

Any "naked and discreet" appeals to particular interest groups would be treated with suspicion by the public.

Dawkins was calling for new efforts in developing science, the arts and culture, multiculturalism, improved teaching opportunities and improved city life through better coordinated services.

In other speeches on Australia days, he called for a republic, and called plans to re-enact the landing of the First Fleet at Circular Quay as part of the 1988 bicentenary events "a tasteless and insensitive farce".

On another, he said that quality and achievement during the 1990s had to scuttle the mediocrity and paper profiteering that featured in the 1980s. "The 1990s must become the decade of the high-flyers, when our best and brightest will not only enjoy new encouragement but new respect as well."

He did not mention innovation, agility or disruption. But he did announce an annual "conference of the nation" on Australia Day to discuss the nation's future and to generate and disseminate ideas.

"We cannot enter the next century rollicking on the sheep's back or creaking and swaying on some coal truck. If we embrace the 1990s as the decade in which excellence becomes everything, then we can be confident about the shape in which this nation will enter the next millennium."

On the other side of politics, David Kemp could give a thoughtful speech, even if Dawkins might not have agreed with much. In 1992, for example, he said Australian egalitarianism was not the abolition of differences, but the attitudes that allowed Australians to live comfortably with those differences.

"It is these attitudes that have supported one of the most successful immigration programs in the world, and which today holds out the best hope for reaching a successful reconciliation with the Aboriginal people. These features of history have given Australian nationalism a liberal and tolerant air. It is in Europe today that we witness attacks on immigrants, and even today ethnicity driving conflict."

Oh dear. One can see that prominent Liberals 25 years ago saw no value in race-baiting, even to win elections.

One does not need to agree with any such ideas. Like other such speeches, they were put up for argument and discussion, often attracting it.

They give some idea of the substance, as well as the character, of the person making the speech, as well as some feel for what one may expect. An altogether different feel than what we get from modern political teams, from whom we get cobbled-together slogans, speeches edited and censored in the leader's office, with everything choreographed and everything spun, and all individuality surrendered to the struggle for immediate survival.

And all without poseured patriotism, bogan chauvinism or sausage sangers.

Jack Waterford is a former editor of The Canberra Times. jwaterfordcanberra@gmail.com