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What’s in this edition of Brisbane Blacks? EVENTS Protest G20 (P3) INSIGHT Have we lost the will to fight for our collective rights? By Woolombi Waters (P4-5) FEATURE Sorry means don’t do it again, By Jade Slockee (P6–7) INSIGHT A legacy of apathy and dependency, By Paul Spearim (P8-9) INSIGHT The Aboriginal 7th State of Australia? By Michael Mansell (P10-12) INTERNATIONAL PERSPECTIVE Land Defence & Responsibility, By Amanda Lickers (P13) INSIGHT The Power of Protest, By Pekeri Ruska (P14)
POLITICAL CARTOON Palestinian ‘Israeli of the Year‘, By Jade Slockee (P15) NEWS Delegation to visit Turtle Island using Aboriginal passports (P16) INTERNATIONAL NEWS Tuhoe’s new tribal headquarters, NZ’s first living building (P17) INSIGHT What is Native Nationalism? By Callum Clayton-Dixon (P18) INTERVIEW What it means to be a Warrior, By Boe Spearim (P16) IDENTITY The Black man who ran away from himself, By Callum Clayton-Dixon (P20-21) LET’S TALK Decolonization (P22)
Support the BASE Food Program Each week, the Brisbane Aboriginal Sovereign Embassy (BASE) Community Food Program provides food parcels to over 150 families across Brisbane’s Black communities. The Food Program relies entirely on volunteers and there is much more work to be done in 2014 to continue expanding service delivery. If you want to be part of this initiative, there are many ways you can support – from organising distribution in your area to making a financial contribution to help the program grow.
basefoodprogram@gmail.com
Brisbane Blacks is an independent non-profit Aboriginal magazine with the sole purpose of awakening Black CONSCIENCE, raising Black AWARENESS and articulating Black RESISTANCE. Our core philosophy is Aboriginal nationalism. We thank all interviewees, contributors, distributors and unions for helping to make Brisbane Blacks a reality. if you would like to subscribe, have any questions about Brisbane Blacks or would like to contribute content, call 0428 152 777 or send an email to brisbaneblacksmedia@gmail.com
Have we lost the will to fight for our collective rights?
APRIL 19, 2014 – Aboriginal activists converged on Brisbane’s South Bank precinct to protest the Royal visit. Members of the Brisbane Aboriginal Sovereign Embassy clashed with police as the crowd and media looked on. by Dr Woolombi Waters, KAMILAROI
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he Duke and Duchess of Cambridge’s tour of Australia was a resounding success. Prince William and Kate with eight-month-old son Prince George were met by Aussies coming out in the thousands to show their affection, sometimes waiting hours for a chance to shake the hands of Royalty and get a glimpse of the baby.
renaissance in the 60s, 70s and 80s. Does the lack of political resistance today mean these words have now lost significance?
What I found interesting about this tour is that other than a demonstration staged by the Brisbane Aboriginal Sovereign Embassy, the Royal visit happened without major protest. So what’s up Aboriginal Australia? Is protest a thing of the past for you mob? This is an important question. As far as I am aware, nobody in history has ever gained freedom by appealing to the moral sense of the people who are oppressing them. Protest, demonstration and political strategy have always been a large part of the national Aboriginal consciousness. I remember as a young fella, mum getting us all ready to catch the train into South Bank to rally at Musgrave Park for a march. This resistance-built community made us feel united against oppression and provided a voice for our mob. It helped bring issues like land rights, the stolen generations and Black deaths in custody onto the national agenda. Looking back, I am very proud of those times. In 2014 we have members of the Royal family visiting, and we muster a protest of 30 people. Does this mean that all is ok in Aboriginal Australia? Are the gains from protest and resistance over the last 226 years enough? Do we now no longer need to fight?
The 30 protesters gathered at the South Bank precinct where the Royal couple was due to attend a civic reception before a brief public walk. They chanted ‘no treaty, no peace’ and ‘always was, always will be Aboriginal land’ before riot police rushed the group. These are the slogans which drove our political ISSUE #5
In Australia, Aboriginal suicide and incarceration rates are at an all-time high. The Northern Territory Intervention continues to deny basic human rights in our most vulnerable communities and then there are the attacks on community services through federal funding cuts to Aboriginal programs and social services. And yet we are confronted with an almost deafening silence. Wouldn’t the Royal visit have proved the ideal platform to put our struggle onto an international stage? Or is it that we are no longer struggling – or should I say those who have had opportunities to gain education and employment are no longer struggling?
As members of minority groups or in dealing with social issues, people often have to make decisions whether to speak up or remain silent, whether to share or withhold their protest and concerns. The problem is that in many cases, our mob is choosing the safe response of silence, deciding against contributing to a collective voice that could be valuable to others. And that’s what it comes down to – that ‘valuable to others’ does not matter because ‘I’m doing alright’. Well, are you doing alright? Let’s be honest and ask ourselves how many of us still speak our own language, identify with country, and are fortunate to have retained ceremony and initiation? Colonisation and human rights goes far deeper than just the right to have a job. If you don’t speak your own language, identify with country, and haven’t retained ceremony and initiation, this means someone has taken away your right to practice your own culture. This equates to cultural genocide, a crime condemned by the international community.
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I understand that for many of us, we feel things are improving. We can afford a big screen television, a nice car and we remain employed. But again, if we are to face reality, the majority of our people are employed as some form of public servants. If not directly through government, their jobs are dependent on some form of government funding, so why would we put all this at risk because others are suffering? This means the situation is not going to change for the better anytime soon. What’s so sad about the situation is that although we feel independent, having overcome some of the obstacles faced by our grandparents, the truth is we are as dependent as ever. How many of us who are working, are working in identified Indigenous positions? Social services, government departments and agencies, universities and not for profit organisations – these are the areas where most of us have employment, and they are all set up to administer services to Aboriginal people. This does not mean independence. It means we are becoming managers of our own mob, and if the funding was to stop we would become lost because most of us work in the Aboriginal affairs industry.
In becoming these managers, we start to identify with the Key Performance Indicators of these organisations. Why? Because this is what determines funding. Whether we want to admit it or not, this is still a culture of dependency. And if you can’t speak your own language, or have been denied access to your cultural practices after tens of thousands of years, then what is it we are really achieving? And as managers of our own people, we maintain the silence. Such inaction only confirms we no longer feel a connection to a collective Aboriginality as we did in launching the Freedom Rides of 1965 or setting up the Aboriginal Embassy in 1972. Our political resistance of the 60s, 70s and 80s was not only about land rights, it was also about the fear that our culture was dying. We were not being given access to reclaim our identity, and cultural maintenance was seen as a priority. So yes, our civil rights have improved. We have access to education and employment – these are civil rights. But our right to continue practicing our culture, the oldest living culture in the world, is and continues to be denied. I had lunch with family and friends over the Easter weekend and the right to protest came up in discussion. I couldn’t believe the reaction of people who are Aboriginal and middle-class who believe it is their right to remain silent and not feel the pressure of having to represent “all Aboriginal people”. All but one was employed in an identified Indigenous position or organisation. I have no doubt in 2014 that it is hard to recall the level of oppression that gripped people 40 years ago, now that you’re sitting back watching your big screen television and looking around your deadly ISSUE #5
home thinking how far you have come because your great-grandmother couldn’t write the English language. Ongoing racist legislation, oppressive government policy and the denial of basic human rights was very real. For many people, it seemed inevitable that we would have to march the streets as the only way of fighting for basic civil rights. This was also the problem – civil rights became the first priority in the hope of then achieving human rights in reclaiming our cultural practice. But once you can afford all these deadly things and no longer have to feel the anguish of living under the Act like your grandparents, why risk what you have? This has meant that historically, the intensity and momentum of our political activism has never been consistent. Upturns in protest activity are followed by downturns in struggle and vice versa. At the moment we seem to be suffering from a downturn, and that’s because many of us are able to afford what we could never buy in the past.
Under John Howard we saw the fall of ATSIC and the rise of an Aboriginal conservative middleclass. Collective bargaining as one mob made way for individual entrepreneurialism and self- proclaimed leadership rather than elected bodies. Many of these new Aboriginal conservatives continue to argue that they pursue the same objectives as those who marched the streets, albeit though different methods. However, agreement on the vision of the movement became divided between the haves and the have-nots. This can simultaneously be identified with a new Indigenous capitalism which has led to a decline in Aboriginal cultural nationalism and activism. It is here that Howard will be remembered just as Reagan is remembered for his role in dismembering Black Nationalism. We have turned away from the fight against a racist government that symbolised post-colonial oppression. Instead, the new Aboriginal powerbrokers focus their attention towards what they refer to as ‘passive welfare’. Their solution is employment and education outcomes, and reforming of the welfare system. Government and the mining industry went from being the enemy to now being the solution. Not all that long ago we would sign off with “yours in the struggle”. Not anymore. This is symptomatic of the fact that despite the occasional calls for treaty, the Aboriginal movement is no longer autonomous. No longer do we oppose the underlying social structures, political forces and ideologies of capitalist society that continue to oppress our people. The G20 summit is to be held in November this year in Brisbane. I wonder if this will be another opportunity lost.
Dr Woolombi Waters is a Kamilaroi language speaker/writer, and lecturer at Griffith University. insight
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Sorry means don’t do it again
MAY 26, 2014 – Kuku Yalanji woman Karen Fusi outside QLD Department of Child Safety headquarters in Brisbane by jade slockee, Gumbaynggirr
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ore Aboriginal children are being removed from their families today than at any other time in our history, and mainstream Australia is blissfully unaware. Grandmothers, grandfathers, aunties, uncles, mothers and fathers are now coming together to form support groups in their communities.
Through sharing their experiences with others in similar situations, many have realized their own fight with the Department of Child Safety (DOCS) is but one in an epidemic of child removals. These support groups are organizing direct action against DOCS, demanding the return of our children. A number of forums and rallies have been held locally by the Brisbane Sovereign Grannies Group. Started by Kuku Yalanji woman Karen Fusi, the Brisbane group, along with others around Australia, is now a part of a larger national network established to form a united front against child removals nationwide. The national group organized a day of action to mark Sorry Day and has been strengthening its ties and building its contacts since. Marking the occasion, the Brisbane Sovereign Grannies Group organized a protest under the banner of ‘Sorry means don’t do it again’ and travelled to Alice Springs to be part of the national day of action event taking place there two days later. Protests were also held in Perth and Sydney. Our demands were the following: -
Aboriginal control of Aboriginal welfare support and services, not punitive removals bring our babies home returning our children must be priority no forced adoptions
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May 26 is Sorry Day, the anniversary of the 1997 release of the Bringing them Home report. The ‘Stolen Children’ report came out of a national inquiry into the separation of Indigenous children from their families. In his 2008 apology to the stolen generations, Kevin Rudd said the total number of children wrongly removed between 1910 and 1970 was up to 50,000. When the Bringing them Home report was released, 2785 Indigenous children were in out-of-home care nationwide. By June 2013, this number had risen to almost fourteen thousand – a fivefold increase.
The 2014 Queensland State Budget included a promise of $406 million over five years for “landmark child protection reforms”. In rolling out these reforms, $25 million has been allocated to the 2014-2015 financial year. An additional $6.5 million will go to employing more than 70 Child Safety officers. Does this mean even more children will be removed over the next few years?
On the ground, there’s barely any difference between removals that happened in the last century and those happening right now. Child Safety officers aided by police can and will remove your children from your home in the middle of the night, in the shopping centre, at school, and even from the birth table. Mothers and guardians that resist can be jailed for ‘kidnapping’ their own children. Some kids in remote communities have been flown thousands of kilometres away from their family to be placed with non-Indigenous carers. Goreng Goreng woman and child protection lawyer Cheryl Orr claims “that no one in the child’s Aboriginal family will be seen as good enough”.
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“More often than not, once children are removed, the parents are fighting for all dear life in the Children’s Court to have a chance of getting the children restored. Unfortunately, once the case hits the Children’s Court, Family and Community Services take a punitive approach and it becomes all about winning the long-term order until the child is eighteen instead of working with and supporting families with future reunification.” Currently the rate of removal for Indigenous children is more than ten times higher compared to the removal rate of non-Indigenous children. Over half of Indigenous children in out-of-home care in Queensland are placed with non-indigenous carers.
Cheryl says that for Aboriginal people, “we know culture is the entirety of who we are”.
“From a western point of view, culture is something that can be segmented from the rest of us. Culture is a lived experience, it is ontological, something that we pass on every day. Not to give an Aboriginal child the right to be parented in an Aboriginal context is taking away their right to belong to culture, to belong as an Aboriginal person.”
Karen Fusi’s story Karen Fusi is a full time mother, community worker and foster carer. She currently has full guardianship of four children – her daughter’s children and her brother’s children. In 2010, Karen’s daughter called her from the hospital telling her that due to an anonymous allegation DOCS received, they had taken her baby while she was breast feeding.
“When my daughter rang me, straight away it reminded me of a story my mum told me. When she was a child swimming in the water hole, they took her sister away because she had fair skin. They took my father from Mona Mona mission and sent him to Cherbourg. They took my Mum from Normanton and sent her to Woodford. How do we get over that kind of trauma? We’re still living it. My daughter couldn’t hang on. After two years, she committed suicide because she couldn’t handle the trauma that DOCS put her through.” Karen and her husband Tony fought the DOCS system in the Queensland Children’s Court before going on to winning full guardianship over their grandchildren through the Federal Court in 2013. But for Karen, the fight didn’t end there.
“I can’t sit at home and feel sorry because I lost a child. I’ve got to get out there in the community to stop another young girl or another brother from committing suicide.” Through her story Karen shares the strength of how to turn such a harrowing experience into a fuel that drives her passion to support others going through the same experience. It is this passion that gave life to the Brisbane Sovereign Grannies Group.
Brisbane Sovereign Grannies Group The group emerged from meetings around the fire at the Brisbane Aboriginal Sovereign Embassy (BASE). Early this year, BASE meetings were becoming inundated with DOCS issues. After Karen was successful in winning full guardianship over her grandchildren, many people within the Aboriginal community began to contact her for help with their cases. In response, the Brisbane Sovereign Grannies Group was established. Initially, the group held their own weekly meetings where Aboriginal people could go to yarn about their experiences with DOCS, release tension, and enjoy arts and crafts. But these meetings ended up turning into much more. There was a great need for support in navigating the DOCS system. The group began acquiring information on Aboriginal rights according to Child Safety Law, how to appeal, filling out application forms and applying for legal aid. Rallies were organized, sit-in protests at the DOCS head office were held and the group even began travelling interstate to share experiences and connect with mob nationwide. The group is currently working on setting up a healing and support centre. We meet every Thursday at midday in Musgrave Park’s Jaggera Hall – all are welcome to attend.
The Brisbane Sovereign Grannies Group was invited to Alice Springs to share our experiences and stories from Queensland at a forum held as a part of the national day of Action on May 28. During our stay, we visited the Amoonguna town camp with Arrernte/Warlpiri woman Marie Ellis. She took us to a place on her country that holds the story of the butterfly. Marie says her people use this story when teaching their children. “The babies, when they come out from that egg, they are a caterpillar. Then they eat. They feed off knowledge, the nourishment of their family. Then they go into their cocoon, taking everything in. They go into adolescence and they’re learning about who they are, which area they come from, their kinship system, their genealogy. Our children are their own anthropologists. Children wrap themselves up in that cocoon. When our children go into their next journey of education, they go to university, they come out with that piece of paper, that’s their butterfly wings – they come out and they shine. They fly off but they still come home.”
As I watched Marie talk to country in her traditional language and share this story with us, my eyes welled up with tears. Despite years of colonization, this woman still stood so completely strong in her culture. I couldn’t hold back how overwhelmed I felt realizing how much has been stolen from east coast tribes and what is being denied to the children of the stolen generations today. I asked Marie if she thought culture and language could be reconstructed from parts to someday be whole again. “Culture is the big sleeping giant,” she said. “The only question is when it will wake up.”
for more information, go to
www.stopstolengenerations.com.au
A legacy of apathy and dependency
PICTURED: Whitehaven coal mine near Boggrabri in north-western New South Wales by PAUL SPEARIM, GAMILARAAY
Yaamagara Nginda. Ngay gayrr Winangali Gii. Ngay dhurra-li Gamilaraay walaay gaalanha Mari, nhama miyaymiyaay. Ngay gaa-gi ngamilma-li winanga-y Gamilaraay ngiyani marama-li yugal, yulu-gi, gaay. Araay Gamilaraay ngiyani burraa maal. Guwaala-li –dhi galaanha yaraay baayali gamilu bidiwii. Ngalaay nganga ngiyani Gamilaraay Mari binagayaa gaaya wanangi, Guwaa-li walaay winanga-li dhiriya gamil guwiyaay walaay. –dhi galaanha yaraay baayali gamilu bidi-wii.
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ello, how are you? My name is Winanga-li Gii, which means to listen from the heart. I come from the Gamilaraay Nation, the land of the Seven Sisters (Australia). I have been imparting the cultural knowledge of the Gamilaraay Nation through song, dance and storylines for over 35 years. Within the Gamilaraay Nation, the process that is used to pass on Gamilaraay cultural knowledge is unique in the way that it is carried out. Each process is interconnected and as important as the next, drawing from the overall creation story of DHIRIYA GAMIL and our existence as descendants of Gamilaraay. Cultural integrity and perpetuity is achieved by all Gamilaraay people who embrace our stories, stories which tell us we can travel freely within our own nation, and by acknowledging the DHIRIYA GAMIL practice of being welcomed into another ISSUE #5
nation’s lands and within our own clan group areas. This has always been done to ensure the ongoing respect for and connection back to DHIRIYA GAMIL.
The Abbott government’s 2014-15 federal budget has ripped over 500 million dollars from Indigenous funding nationwide, reducing 150 programs and services to just five. The government’s new ‘Indigenous Advancement Strategy’ will be totally controlled by the Department of Prime Minister and Cabinet. This is the evil and crazy game show they call Australian politics. We as Aboriginal peoples are already the most marginalised group in this country, what we see happening with this budget is nothing new. Consecutive Australian governments have done the same since federation. Yet this racist Prime Minister feels that he can judge what is in the best interest of our peoples. While he is in power, he will oversee and control us just like the White masters and ‘protectors’ who came before him. But this will not be restricted to slashing Indigenous funding. Coming soon to your community is another 50 million dollars worth of new police infrastructure, devoted to creating a permanent police presence in remote Aboriginal communities. If only this was the answer to the political, social and economic problems of this country, oh White master whose poison feet tread on our sacred lands.
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But I honestly believe that our struggle is not just about how much they take in terms of money. It’s the denial of our basic human rights that concerns me most. It’s about whether I can take my grandchildren onto their ancestral Gamilaraay lands, sacred lands that are being ripped up and desecrated by mining companies. It’s about being able to continue the age old practice of bestowing our knowledge, song, dance and storylines, and maintaining the strict but respectful balance so necessary to our ongoing cultural connection to country.
not care whether my sacred lands are left for my grandchildren or great grandchildren. The slash and burn of the budget and the desecration of my sacred lands only proves to me that all they are interested in is profit and power.
We don’t need to march in the streets anymore? Because it has been done in the past and nothing has been achieved? And don’t worry, the government will provide for us! All we have to do is comply with what is perceived as ‘normal’ and then we can take our place as Australians like everybody else?
We know that the pain and suffering will never end for our people until you join us in the fight. Now is the ideal time for our peoples to all stand up together and be counted. Come along and join us on the streets. It’s never too late.
This leads me to acknowledge a sad legacy that is still being perpetuated today. It’s called APATHY.
Dose this mean that we lay the blame on Aboriginal people who choose to conform? No, not at all. But there has to be some kind of ownership of and accountability for this apathy. We must recognise and understand that have been and continue to be oppressed and controlled by consecutive racist Australian governments since the advent of colonization. As the dust from Abbott’s budget settles on the black soiled plains of my sacred Gamilaraay homelands, multinational mining companies continue to illegally dig up and desecrate my ancestors’ ceremonial lands. This destruction is occurring on my lands with the corrupt approval of current and past state and federal government ministers, ministers who’ve found themselves under investigation for their unscrupulous dealings with these mining companies. These evil companies, along with Australia’s racist governments, do
Another sad legacy that is very evident throughout Aboriginal communities is that, from a young age, we are programmed to believe that we cannot do anything ourselves. We are conditioned to believe that we need financial assistance from government. This has been a very successful ploy used by successive governments to co-opt our Black nations and peoples to remain in this welfare state of mind.
Governments come and go all the time. You and I must maintain the struggle. My fight is your fight, and it is a just fight.
As a proud member of the Brisbane Aboriginal Sovereign Embassy (BASE), I believe we will continue to pave the way for the future generations to understand that we do not need government assistance. We continue to run programs that benefit our peoples like the BASE Food Program and delivering furniture/clothing to Aboriginal communities. Our Sovereign Grannies group has been set up to provide a support network for Black women and families who are dealing with Australia’s racist welfare and DOCS (Department of Child Safety) system. And Brisbane Blacks is a magazine that helps our peoples understand the real issues that we are facing in our country today. Let’s keep the fire burning. ngiyaningu maran yaliwunga ngarra-li
OUR ANCESTORS ARE ALWAYS WATCHING
“Governments come and go all the time. You and I must maintain the struggle. My fight is your fight, and it is a just fight.” Paul Spearim, GAMILARAAY
PICTURED: Joe Hockey, Treasurer of Australia in the Abbott Coalition Government
Aborigines currently own 22.1% or 1.7 million square kilometres of the Australian land mass. The Aboriginal 7th State of Australia?
Secretary of the Aboriginal Provisional Government MICHAEL MANSELL (Pakana) says an Aboriginal 7th State wouldn’t compromise our claims to sovereignty. “The model takes the rich historical, cultural and aspirational values that makes up the identity of Aboriginal people and treats them as assets, not liabilities. It provides an outlet for the free expression of those values, clarifies and consolidates our relationship with Australians, and gives, for the first time, great hope for the future.”
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elf-determination is the right of oppressed peoples to regain their territory that has been overrun, and to decide their own political, economic and social future. It is a right that Aborigines have been denied for over 200 years. Yet selfdetermination is not new to Australia. In 1901, Britain agreed that the colonies of Australia could form their own federation, or remain part of the UK or be independent of it. In 1974, the Whitlam government established the NACC (National Aboriginal Consultative Committee) to give Aborigines a voice on the national level. The NACC had no land or legislative power.
Only one year after the NACC was created, the East Timorese declared independence. They were subsequently invaded by Indonesia. The 26 year campaign for self-determination saw the East Timorese get their country back in 2002. Two years after NACC was set up, the Inuit sought their own territory in Canada. In 1992, Canada signed an agreement acceding to the demand of a 16 year campaign by the Inuit. By 1999, the Nunavut territory of nearly two million square kilometres of territory was up and running with its own Assembly. The Scots had wanted independence from the United Kingdom for some time. Just four years after the NACC was established, a referendum was held in Scotland to establish a Scottish Assembly with devolved powers. The referendum failed, but 20 years ISSUE #5
of campaigning saw a positive result in 1998 and the passing of the Scotland Act. Since 1998 the Scots have been running their own country with devolved powers. Later this year the Scots will go to another referendum to decide whether to remain within the UK, or become a nation state. Meanwhile, the National Congress of Australia’s First Peoples is supposedly a “national voice for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Peoples”. The Congress has neither land nor legislative power. While great advances have been made elsewhere, Aboriginal self-determination has stalled for over four decades.
In a vast political reshaping of the world, more than 80 former colonies comprising some 750 million people have gained independence since the creation of the United Nations in 1945. Aborigines are not counted among them.
We wonder why Aboriginal self-determination has lagged so badly behind the rest of the world. Is it because we too willingly accept crumbs? There will never be Aboriginal government so long as Aborigines continue to sit on advisory committees. Constitutional recognition will please those who are well-off but it will not deliver an inch of land, create any rights or impose any obligations. Australia happily gives awards to individual Aborigines wanting personal glory while self-determination is ignored. Ever seen a Palestinian advisory body to Israel? Or a Palestinian accepting an ‘Israeli of the Year’ award?
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The lack of Aboriginal political development means we are not in a position to demand full-blown selfdetermination. We lack the 5 key ingredients-
1) a defined territory; 2) a working government; 3) a clear indication of the will of Aboriginal people for self-determination; 4) financial independence indicating we would not be a burden on the already stretched coffers of the UN; and 5) an international benefactor
The international community would likely dismiss Aboriginal claims for external sovereignty due to our lack of political development. But they would accept, as would Australia, our right to domestic sovereignty. That being the case, let’s make the most of it. So what model, based on sovereignty (which we have never ceded), could address Aboriginal self-determination domestically?
When the British colonies of Australia decided to create a federation in 1901, they debated the likelihood of new States being added to the original six. Chapter VI was created in the constitution for this to occur, and two other sections (106 & 111) also contemplated new States. At the time it was expected that New Guinea, Fiji and New Zealand would join Australia as new States. It was also expected that new States would be carved out of the territory of existing States (section 124) and accordingly provided for boundary adjustments and giving up of territory to any new State under section 123. An Aboriginal 7th State of Australia can be created under existing constitutional provisions without the need for referendums.
Section 121 - The Parliament may admit to the Commonwealth or establish new States, and may upon such admission or establishment make or impose such terms and conditions, including the extent of representation in either House of the Parliament, as it thinks fit.
The Commonwealth legislation could thus provide: “By this Act, the State of ______ is established”. The States can legislate to surrender territory under section 111 of the constitution, but only to the Commonwealth. Once territory has been accepted by the Commonwealth under section 122, Canberra can either make laws for partial self-rule (as is the case for the Northern Territory, Australian Capital Territory, and in Scotland from 1998 to present) or establish a new Aboriginal State entirely under section 121.
People are understandably wary of legislation – it can be changed or repealed by a later parliament. Not in this case. Section 121 gives the Federal parliament the power to establish an Aboriginal 7th State. But once used, the power is spent. Federal parliament can try all it likes to undo a newly created State, but the Commonwealth constitution protects the States against Canberra trying to close them down. Canberra lacks any constitutional ISSUE #5
power to undo a State it creates. This is why the 7th State model has an advantage over both constitutional reform and a treaty. It does not need a referendum – it relies on existing constitutional provisions which were designed for this purpose. Treaty
As to a treaty, suppose Aborigines signed a treaty with the Commonwealth. The document itself would not create any rights nor impose any obligations. As such, ‘Aboriginal people’ have no legal personality and cannot sue as a people unless legislation provides for that to happen. That is why Kevin Rudd was free to apologise – he knew his apology, in the absence of legislation, did not give the stolen generations a right to sue the Federal government. It is the same with a treaty. Until legislated, the document would not be worth the paper it was written on. Even if a treaty was legislated, that legislation could later be repealed. Although, any rights initially given to Aborigines and acted on would be protected under other laws. For instance, if land was allocated under a treaty and an Aboriginal group acted on the ‘grant’, any repeal of the treaty would not automatically take back the land. And anyway, what would be in a treaty? Probably nothing better than an Aboriginal 7th State. So why go the long way around for the same result? Why not just get on with it? Responsibilities
States have responsibility over their parliaments, elections, law and order (including customary law), religion, police, prisons, education, health, housing, main roads, public transport, electricity generation and supply, agriculture, vacant lands, local government, state taxation, environment and land use and planning. In addition to this list of responsibilities, the Aboriginal State would be free to send delegations to various international forums (so long as it did not try to represent Australia, which it would not), have its own flag and anthem, and could even negotiate for full recognition of Aboriginal passports and an Aboriginal Olympic team. Could it be reasonably claimed that having responsibility over a third of the lands of Australia, run by an Aboriginal Assembly, elected by Aboriginal people, detracts from Aboriginal sovereignty? What more could possibly be listed for this model to be an expression of sovereignty? True it is that within Federation, States cannot coin their own currency or raise an army. Would we want to? The only threat to Aboriginal lands is from the people already here, not from those elsewhere. And who would want the massive cost and administrative nightmare of printing money? Lands & Territory
What lands would be the territory of the Aboriginal State? Under Land Rights legislation and exclusive possession Native Title, Aborigines currently own 22.1% (1.7 million square kilometres) of the Australian land mass – this land could be included within the territory of the Aboriginal 7th State.
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Other lands that could be transferred to the 7th State include (not limited to) Aboriginal Reserves, Crown Leasehold, Vacant Crown Land, Deed of Grant in Trust, and National Parks. In other words, legislation establishing the 7th State of Australia could also provide Aboriginal ownership of certain lands without the need for a tribunal or other drawn out processes. Once established, the Aboriginal State could press for more lands to be returned to Aboriginal people, whether or not those lands were to be incorporated in the 7th State. Evidently, much land would not be included in the territory of the new State. But an Aboriginal 7th State is a political step towards self-determination and is necessarily a political compromise. The greater the territorial claim for a new Aboriginal State the less likely it will gain broad support. It is clear from the examples of East Timor, Nunavut and Scotland that campaigns for self-determination have to run for up to 30 years, not the 3 months or ‘during the life of this government’ campaigns we are used to. A public campaign to gain widespread support for the necessary legislation could take at least 5-10 years, with some legislative steps years after that. Who votes in the Aboriginal State?
If to begin with, some Aboriginal groups do not have any lands within the new State, that doesn’t mean there can be no participation. Aborigines could still vote for, and be elected to, the Aboriginal Assembly. The Assembly could take up the cause of land rights for dispossessed groups. To be successful, the structure, laws and representation of an Aboriginal State would need to reflect the distinct features of the people themselves. To make sure that Aborigines felt the 7th State delivered real self-determination, an Assembly may look and operate quite differently from existing parliaments. The creation of that Assembly needs to be established well in advance of the legislation creating the 7th State.
Electoral laws usually require a three month residency for eligibility to vote or stand for election – the Aboriginal State could do the same. Although, depending on the whereabouts of its territory and its population makeup, the majority population may, or may not, be Aboriginal. If the Aboriginal population was not a majority, or could soon be a minority, the whole point of the 7th State being an exercise in self-determination would be wasted. One way to overcome the problem of being numerically overrun could be to allow all residents of the Aboriginal territory to enrol, plus Aborigines regardless of where they live. This would guarantee an Aboriginal majority, make the effort worthwhile and at the same time expand self-determination to more Aboriginal people. Would the Racial Discrimination Act allow for it? It did for the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Commission (ATSIC), so there should not be an issue. Federal representation
Because the constitution provides for all States to elect members to the federal parliament, the new Aboriginal State must be represented in the senate.
However, the number of Senators that Aborigines could elect is really up to the federal parliament. The number is not determined by the Aboriginal State itself. The Northern Territory and ACT currently have two Senators each, well below the 12 that each of the original six States have. The census claims the total Aboriginal population is over 600 000, surpassing Tasmania’s 500 000. This figure would provide a strong case for Aboriginal 7th State representation to equal Tasmania with 12 Senators. An Aboriginal Constitution
It would also be advisable to have a written constitution in place before the Commonwealth legislated for the establishment of the 7th State. Section 106 of the Australian constitution protects State constitutions and provides that, under federation, the only authorities to alter them are the State parliaments themselves. If the Aboriginal State wanted customary law to apply to certain areas, the State constitution could provide for it. Aboriginal customary law is not recognised as a legitimate source of law under white legal systems. Similarly, the rights of Aboriginal land owners within the 7th State would need to spell out whether an Aboriginal group could keep all profits from their lands or whether the State could claim a share of it. Could Aboriginal owners veto any activities on their lands? What rights, if any, would the Aboriginal Assembly have to interfere with decisions by Aboriginal owners? While section 106 excludes any Commonwealth law from changing a State constitution, section 106 would not be of any use where a Commonwealth law (within constitutional power) conflicted with a law made under the constitution of an Aboriginal State. Section 109 would make the Aboriginal State law invalid to the extent of its inconsistency with the Commonwealth law.
This rather sketchy outline of what could be the biggest single shift in Australian policy on Aboriginal self-determination leaves many issues unresolved or not mentioned. Widespread debate and discussion about this model is imperative. The strength of the 7th State proposal is that Aborigines give up nothing – it is the White power structure that hands security of tenure to Aboriginal people, and gives up most of their decision making powers over the territory of the 7th State (and all who profit from it). It is true the 7th State model operates within Australia’s constitutional provisions and gets its protection against further interference from the same constitution. How else can we shift power over us and our lands without taking advantage of what is available? Are we to forever live on slogans? If there is a better solution to the 7th State idea, then let’s hear it. At the same time if the idea can’t stand up to criticism, then it is a flawed model. There is no compromise to Aboriginal sovereignty or self-determination. How could Aborigines make a legitimate claim for a 7th State if we were not sovereign? If we abandoned our claims to sovereignty, it would mean we have no more rights than ‘other Australians’. The quest for an Aboriginal 7th State relies on sovereignty. And it is not a final solution, but a stepping stone.
Land Defense & Responsibility
PICTURED: symbolizes Haudenosaunee Confederacy of Nations, brought together by Kaianere’kowa (The Great Law of Peace)
Sovereignty means asserting our inherent responsibilities to our land, writes Onondow’ga woman Amanda Lickers.
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any of our nations self-reference as “original peoples”. As an Onondowa’ga (Seneca) woman, I am Onkwehónwe - an original person, a person of the earth. Onondowa’ga means ‘people of the great hill’ which speaks directly to a physical place in so-called New York State that my ancestors originated from, the place from which my nation emerged. We are part of the Haudenosaunee Confederacy. As Haudenosaunee, we are ‘people of the longhouses’. It is where we come from and our ways of being that define us. Indigeneity is about our relationships with our territories – it is the fact that our languages, our laws, our cultures, our medicines, our traditions, and our very lives were given to us by our lands. It is our familial relationships with the natural world – grandmother moon, mother earth, elder brother sky – that have shaped our identities and lives since time immemorial and is what makes us Indigenous.
If my ancestral home is destroyed, I can no longer be Onondowa’ga. As nations, we are formed in every way by our lands. What is understood as “normal” within colonial society is in actuality a fabric of violence. Environmental violence is literally about the impact on our bodies from the attack on our lands. It is no accident that women and two-spirited people were of the first to be brutalized by invasion, and remain on the front lines of colonial violence today. In a Haudenosaunee worldview, the women carry the territories forward for the next generations and also carry our clans. The attack on our women is the attack on our clan-system, which is the foundation of our traditional Haudenosaunee governance, and becomes an attack on our nations. It is for this reason that violence against our territories must not be understood as separate from violence faced by our women. In the face of centuries of genocidal attacks on our territories, bodies and spirits, our histories and very identity are still kept alive – survived by our lands. Colonialism is not just the theft of our territories for the settlement of or use by colonial invaders. In the global economic system, colonialism is also the devaluation of the natural world, our relatives, using the lens of “resource extraction”. Capitalism replaces our familial relationships with arbitrary value measurements like fiat currency while commodifying all things sacred. Onkwehónwe peoples suffer the despair of land trauma, experienced during displacement, and/or directly mourning territories which have been damaged, desecrated or destroyed. Even through the manifold processes of assimilation, we still remember who we are and we have survived. We will be able to regain and restore what has been lost if we are willing to receive our ancestors’ teachings whispering through our veins and written into our landscapes.
We must honour the legacy of resistance that has come before us and refuse extinction. In order to do this, we must protect our ancestral homes, places of ceremony and sustenance. ISSUE #5
We must show respect and honour our women and two-spirited peoples. How can we be truly self-determining if we refuse selfdefence, if we continue the cycles of abuse against our people and our places? Understanding that power concedes nothing without confrontation, we must move forward using kanikonriio (good mind) for the faces not yet born to ensure that we can still be who we are, and that we will survive. We must acknowledge colonial occupation as violent and self-defense as necessary. We must ask ourselves what will our ancestors yet to come expect of us, and what have those before us given already? As Freda Huson of the Unist’ot’en Camp says, “our ancestors are waiting for us”. Unist’ot’en camp is a blockade and land reclamation by the Unist’ot’en clan of the Wet’suwet’en nation stopping several fracked gas and tar sands pipelines by returning to life on the land. Our ancestors are waiting for our footsteps, for our songs, for our voices and for our power to return to the places we have come from and to begin to remember our ways. Decolonization is about undoing the sickness of colonialism within ourselves and our communities, restoring our Indigenous identity and working towards Indigenous liberation. We will never be liberated under an apartheid system which numbers us, steals us from our families, abuses our peoples, dehumanizes us, forces us to speak foreign tongues, and seeks to destroy our spirits. It is our duty as Indigenous peoples to understand that the protection of our lands and rebuilding relationships with our territories is decolonization in action. Without the defense of our lands, we will not be able to return to our lifeways. From Elsipogtog to Unist’ot’en, from the Mapuche to the Lakota, it is the defense of our lands and waters that allows us to defend our lifeways by practicing them. If we can decolonize our nations by beginning to return to Indigenous ways of knowing and being, our stories and old ways will return to us as well. This will happen through the same ways that they were received before contact – dreams, visits from our ancestors, the guidance of our relatives within the natural world, as well as ways unknown to me. The act of being on our territories, harvesting our medicines and listening to our ancestors, will help to heal us from the damage of colonization individually, intergenerationally, and as nations.
If we do not engage in the active restoration of relationships with our territories, we will cease to be Indigenous and our nations will crumble. If we do not engage in the active protection of our lands, we will have dishonoured our ancestors and failed to uphold our responsibilities as original peoples - to protect the lands, the waters and all forms of life for the faces not yet born. As brother sun continues to shine down upon us, as our grandfathers the thunderers continue to bring the rains, it is the natural world who has never broken their treaty with us as they continue to fulfill their responsibilities to sustain life. It is time we take up ours once again.
international perspective
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The Power of Protest
JULY 20, 2014 – Smoke from flares rising above the thousands of people flooding the streets of Brisbane in protest against Israeli’s assault on the Palestinian territory of the Gaza Strip. by pekeri ruska, goenpul
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n the 30th of April 1988, I marched in the Demonstrate Don’t Celebrate ‘88 protest. The rest of the country was celebrating 200 years of colonial occupation. I don’t remember it. It was my first birthday and I was sitting on the shoulders of my father, Dale Ruska. From the age of one, I was part of a movement that would shape my future as an Aboriginal woman. I was part of a resistance. In 1995, I recall attending a blockade that was set up on my paradise home, Minjerribah (North Stradbroke Island). We were blocking the main entrance to Sibelco’s sand mine. The blockade stopped work at the mine for some time. My father describes these efforts as having “made the mining company accountable to Aboriginal people”.
Eighteen years later, I’m living in Melbourne and recently attended a demonstration against Israel’s war on Palestine. While I was not protesting on this day against something that affected my own people or land, I was protesting against the extreme abuses of human rights occurring on the other side of the world. Thousands of people chanted with anger, ‘Free free Palestine!’ and ‘Israel, USA, how many kids did you kill today?’ There was an Aboriginal flag flying amongst the Palestinian flags and placards. As we marched, a young man behind us proceeded to laugh and joke about the Aboriginal flag. His friend told him to stop. “They’re here to support us,” he said.
I wasn’t quite sure what kind of impact the protest would have in assisting our Palestinian brothers and sisters. Pondering this question, I joined with several other young Aboriginal people in discussing the power of protest at numerous levels and how there are now more platforms then ever before by which we can get our message out. Gunnai woman Meriki Onus said protesting had long played a key role in the struggle for Aboriginal rights. ISSUE #5
“Our people have protested for better pays, land rights, we protested against the injustices and dispossession. We can still take to the streets, fly our flags, placards and chant. The influence of street protesting is still very powerful. However, the messages of protest groups are too often miscommunicated by the media.” Thanks to the advancement of online technology, we now have the tools at our fingertips to spread our messages to the world 24/7. But we must remember that liking a status on Facebook and retweeting on Twitter is far from enough.
Worimi man Adam Ridgeway believes we need to ensure that our actions on social media are not just tokenistic as “the reach of social media dilutes power”. We need to do more for our voices to be heard, loud enough to effect real change. Maybe it is time we go back to the streets and shout out the messages that we are so comfortable with posting online.
However, no matter how we portray our messages, not everyone will support us. Anaiwan woman Gabi Briggs once had someone tell her that “being radical is shame-job”. Unfortunately our society has created negative stigma around activism. It is important for our people to remember that there doesn’t need to be any shame associated with fighting for our basic human rights, on the streets or otherwise.
In agreeing with my father, protesting needs to have a clear position. From experience, we as Aboriginal people know that protests can be useful – and those that have been most successful have been those that have a clear purpose. Admittedly, protesting is a very reactive response to the many injustices facing our people. Maybe it is time to give balance to our resistance, to be more proactive. The question remains, how are we to achieve this?
insight
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Australia is the nation responsible for the theft of Aboriginal land and the genocide of Aboriginal people.
Are we members of this nation, a nation built upon the dispossession and bloodshed of our ancestors? What happened to the days of
freedom & independence?
Delegation to visit Turtle Island using Aboriginal passports
An
Aboriginal delegation will journey to Turtle Island (Canada) in August using Aboriginal passports. We hope to develop ties with and learn from the Native peoples of Turtle Island. Beginning in Vancouver on the West Coast and finishing in Montreal on the East Coast, the group will spend a month visiting various Native communities, meeting with many Native activists and leaders. We plan to visit communities currently engaging in front-line land defence like the Unis’tot’en Camp (British Columbia), Mi’kmaq Warrior Society (New Brunswick). The group also hopes to learn from the Native experience with treaties like the Nisga’a Final Agreement signed in 2000.
The delegation will include Meriki Onus (Gunnai & Gunditjmara), Boe Spearim (Gamilaraay), Pekeri Ruska (Goenpul) and Callum Clayton-Dixon (Nganyaywana). It is essential for us to connect with other Indigenous peoples around the world, as our struggle is not confined to colonial borders – decolonization is a path we all must follow. Engaging in nation to nation conversation, we have much to learn from and share with our Native brothers and sisters.
And by travelling with the Aboriginal passport, we will be reasserting our right to self-determination as Aboriginal people. The Aboriginal passport is a document issued by the APG as part of its policy of acting sovereignty. By
presenting an Aboriginal passport at airports in other countries and when re-entering Australia, this shows that we are committed to the principle that the Aboriginal nation is separate from the Australian nation. Aboriginal people have inherent independent rights, including having a separate passport.
The APG has long sought to take the Aboriginal struggle onto the international stage, whether it was as guests of Gaddafi’s Libya or representation at the South Pacific Forum. Two delegations from the Aboriginal Embassy also travelled to China in 1970s as guests of Chairman Mao.
Editor of Brisbane Blacks magazine Callum Clayton-Dixon says “this will be a great opportunity for us to gain inspiration from the fight of other Indigenous peoples, especially given the current resistance to integration into the Canadian state and the fight against resource extraction in Native territories”. Bogaine Spearim believes that “once we realise and acknowledge the struggle for recognition of Indigenous sovereignty internationally, we will see that decolonization isn’t just an Aboriginal fight here in occupied Australia”. “It is a fight just like that of the original peoples of Turtle Island, South America, Aotearoa, Scotland, Ireland and West Papua,” says Mr Spearim, a member of the Brisbane Aboriginal Sovereign Embassy. “We as Indigenous peoples must understand that our fight is one.”
to apply for an Aboriginal Passport, go to
www.apg.org.au/passports
Tuhoe’s new tribal headquarters, NZ’s first living building
PICTURED: Ngāi Tūhoe’s new tribal headquarters in Taneatua (May 2014)
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gāi Tūhoe’s new tribal headquarters opened officially on March 8 this year, a clear testament to what Indigenous peoples can achieve in consideration of all that has happened due to colonization. Te Uru Taumatua is New Zealand’s most environmentally and socially sustainable building, designed to meet the stringent criteria of the international Living Building Challenge. Funding for the 15 million dollar project came from Tūhoe’s share of the 2008 Central North Island Iwi treaty settlement. The building is the new centre of governance and meeting place for the iwi (tribe) in Taneatua, near Whakatane. Construction commenced in late 2012. Chairman of Tūhoe’s Governing Board Tāmati Kruger says the building “reflects Tūhoe’s hopes for its own and New Zealand’s future”.
“Like Tūhoe, it challenges the way things have been done and puts a mark in the ground for the possibilities of the future.” For many years, Tūhoe have been working toward the restoration of their mana whenua (power from the land) with a focus on their heartland, Te Urewea. Their vision was to strengthen and reaffirm Tūhoe communities and redevelop their infrastructure. Tūhoe identified a requirement for a new meeting place that supported the iwi’s large community, and insisted this new development aligns to their inherent connection to the land.
Chief Executive of the Tūhoe authority Kirsti Luke believes the building will play a major role in developing the tribe’s autonomy, encouraging Tūhoe citizens to “stop believing that the only way to live is through the grid”.
“We want to take what we’ve learnt from this building and turn it into housing solutions. We want to be independent, but not just for the sake of it. People come and go, but if your natural resources are depleted, people have nothing and they can’t survive.”
Kirsti Luke, Ngāi Tūhoe ISSUE #5
international news
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by callum clayton-dixon, nganyaywana
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philosophy is a set of basic principles and concepts that shapes the way we look at our world. When we change our philosophy, we change our thought pattern. Changing our thought pattern changes our attitude. Once we change our attitude, it changes our behaviour pattern and our actions. There are many philosophies out there which have been applied to different people in different places and situations (e.g. socialism, feminism, capitalism). The philosophy of Native Nationalism is specific to Indigenous peoples seeking to decolonize. If we as Indigenous peoples refer to ourselves as nations, then we must talk about our nationhood and our nationalism.
Native Nationalism is founded in two core principles – resistance and reconstruction. Resistance is about fighting the ongoing colonization of our lands and lives. Reconstruction is about reviving that which underpinned our society prior to colonization. Simultaneously
Pan-Aboriginal RESISTANCE
reactive and proactive, Native Nationalism is rooted in our fundamental rights and responsibilities as the original peoples of this land. The philosophy of Native Nationalism can be applied to both individual tribal groups and the pan-Aboriginal nation (all Aborigines), finding strength in what makes us different and what connects us. When it comes to Aboriginal affairs, the interests of Australian governments align with those of the corporate world. Their philosophy of colonialism finds its foundations in greed and racism. With the backing of big corporations (e.g. mining companies), Australian governments use a strategy of assimilation and suppression to deal with ‘the Aboriginal problem’. Native Nationalism provides a platform from which we can effectively combat colonialism. Unlike other philosophies, Native Nationalism is organic in the way that it stems from Aboriginal cultural values and applies specifically to the struggle of Indigenous peoples.
Pan-Aboriginal RECONSTRUCTION
rallies & marches (e.g. protesting G20, Aboriginal Embassy)
rebuilding intertribal relationships (e.g. treaties, ceremonies, trade)
campaigns (e.g. stolen wages, land rights, deaths in custody)
asserting Aboriginal political identity (e.g. Aboriginal Provisional Government, Aboriginal Assembly, 7th State)
symbolism (e.g Aboriginal passport) boycotts (e.g. Gold Coast Commonwealth Games 2018)
Tribal RESISTANCE defending tribal lands and waters from resource extraction and urbanization (e.g blockading mining projects, reoccupying contentious sites) fighting for the repatriation of ancestral remains and artefacts (e.g. museums and universities)
grassroots community support networks (e.g. food program)
Tribal RECONSTRUCTION back to country (physical & spiritual return to our tribal homelands) revitalizing traditional practices (e.g. language revival, song/dance/story, diet, reclaiming Indigenous place names) reviving tribal governance (e.g. traditional decision making, tribal citizenship registry)
What it means to be a WARRIOR right to practice our beliefs, to be who we want to be, to speak our languages, sing our songs, and dance our dances (not just some token performance, but to do this on our country on our own cultural and spiritual terms). Since colonization, we have been on the journey of reconstructing our nationhood. Fulfilling the role of a warrior means being part of this process. 3) What does being a warrior mean in terms of Native Nationalism?
PICTURED: 25-year-old Gamilaraay man Boe Spearim at Musgrave Park on 16th of May 2012 before being arrested for defending the sacred fire
1) What does the word warrior mean to you? To a lot of people, the word warrior simply means someone on a battlefield with a spear or gun looking to either attack or defend. For me, there is much more to what it means to be a warrior. In Gamilaraay, we say birawaa. This word is used to refer to a man or woman who has been taught knowledge of self, knowledge of their family, clan and nation. This person shares knowledge of song, dance and story, maintaining our connection to country. When we would go to battle, our partners would stand alongside us. The women would hold the shield while the men would throw the spear and strike with the axe. In doing this, both man and woman would stand on the frontline for each other. Showing the utmost loyalty to each other and the nation, both man and woman would be willing to take a beating or die in battle. 2) How does being a warrior apply to the Aboriginal struggle today? Is it different compared to 100 years ago, or before colonization? The role of a warrior is different today. Because of colonization, many of us have been dispossessed of land, song, dance and story. I believe this is what drove the fight in the early days, whether it was the 1972 Aboriginal Embassy, walking off from the missions and cotton fields, or the sit-in my father was part of at his high school in Moree. All of this happened while our people were living under the Australian apartheid. Today, we don’t really see the same kind of resistance as we had in the 60s, 70s and 80s. Many Aboriginal people don’t view resistance as being normal, as a lot of us are now working within the system thinking that this is what we wanted – equality and integration into the Australia state. We fought for and still fight for the ISSUE #5
Native Nationalism is about two things – resistance and reconstruction. Being a warrior is core to both. Resistance has always been a part of Aboriginal society. Prior to colonization, tribes would fight over hunting grounds, the stealing of women and entering into other tribes’ territories unannounced. Today, resistance means opposing certain members of my family who are signing over our Gamilaraay land to mining companies. It means making a physical presence by getting out onto the streets and marching. It’s also about my responsibility to going back home to Gamilaraay and standing on the frontline against the destruction of our sacred lands and waters. It is about rebuilding our nationhood – our language, our song, dance and story, our connection to country and our relationships with other tribes. Black nationalist Marcus Garvey would say to the descendants of African slaves, ‘Back to Africa’ and ‘Africa for the Africans’. I say ‘Back to Gamilaraay’ and ‘Gamilaraay for the Gamilaraay’.
4) What are some of the things you have been involved in that fit around the idea of a warrior society?
As a seven-year-old, I would listen to our father tell our Gamilaraay stories. He’d show us our dances, sing us our songs, and teach us our language. “Boe, what is your name?” dad would ask. “You just said it,” I’d reply. “No, your name is Buloo Buraan,” he’d say. “It means Black shield. That is the name my mother gave you.” Looking back, this was when I was first being lead down the path of becoming a warrior. In my early twenties, I got involved with the Brisbane Aboriginal Sovereign Embassy. This is where I learned how to speak up in a room full of people, to stand strong on the frontline. Much of what the Embassy does is based on the concept of a warrior society. Aside from the marches, rallies and forums, we have a food program which delivers 160+ food parcels each week to Aboriginal families across Brisbane, the Sovereign Grannies Group which fights against the continued stealing of Aboriginal children, and our magazine Brisbane Blacks. We meet every Wednesday night in Musgrave Park to light the fire. This is where it all starts for me. Kooma man Wayne ‘Coco’ Wharton always reminds us that “the more we get away from that fire, the more we get away from who we really are”.
interview
P19
The Black man who ran away from himself
PICTURED: Inglebah Aboriginal Reserve (left), Norman Dixon with his grandson Callum in 1999 (right) by CALLUM CLAYTON-DIXON, NGANYAYWANA
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many of us remain disconnected from our people and detached from culture, our knowledge of self crushed by the White man’s guns, germs and steal. Knowing our historical experience at the hands of colonization is crucial in understanding how we ended up here today. Such awareness gives us context with regards to why we feel and act the way we do towards certain people and certain places. Colonization has left us spiritually shattered, and repatriating our ancestors can play a major role in the process of reconstruction. But repatriation is not limited to bringing bones and artefacts home from museums and universities.
My grandfather died a Black man in exile, and this is his story. Norman was born in Walcha, New South Wales on the 31st of October, 1933. He and his two younger sisters Patsy and Joan were stolen from their Aboriginal mother Clara Dixon in 1941 while their White father Edward Schmutter was in Libya fighting the Afrika Korps. The three children were separated, sent to Sydney, and spent the next few years between state institutions and foster families.
Coming out of the homes, each sibling reacted differently to issues of identity and Aboriginality. Patsy, the youngest, embraced her Aboriginality. “My spirit just wanted to be back with my people,” she told me. Joan denied it completely, saying she wanted nothing to do with her Aboriginal family. “I’m not Aboriginal,” she insisted. Joan ended up joining the Australian army, but died at age 19 from meningitis. Then there’s my grandfather. Patsy believes her brother “was one of those Blackfellas who was on the fence and didn’t know which way to go”. ISSUE #5
The NSW Aborigines Welfare Board returned Norman to his Aboriginal family in 1945. He lived in a tin shack by the river at Inglebah Aboriginal Reserve until the age of 16, and then went to work on the railway at Uralla. After he left Inglebah, Patsy saw very little of her older brother. His first son Wayne was born in 1955 to an Aboriginal woman by the name of June Snow. Sometime in the early 60s, Norman ended up in Aotearoa (New Zealand). He married Pākehā woman Shirley Hemmingway in 1967, and my father Shane was born a year later in Whakatane.
1969 – Patsy, who was living in Redfern at the time, ran into her brother at the Empress Hotel. Their mother was living in Surry Hills, so Patsy persuaded Norman to visit her. When they arrived, she was nowhere to be found. My grandfather took a piece of charcoal from the fireplace and left a note on a piece of cardboard. The note read ‘Norman was here’. He left for New Zealand the next morning, never again to contact his Aboriginal family, cutting ties with them forever. “I’m not going to be a Black man in this country,” he said. Norman’s nephew William Widders, a member of the first Aboriginal rugby team to play internationally, searched for him when his team toured New Zealand in 1973. He had no luck, scouring local telephone books for Norman Schmutter. Patsy also contacted the Salvation Army’s family tracing service in the hope of finding her brother. But these efforts were fruitless. My grandfather had changed his surname to Dixon, his mother’s maiden name.
Along with a collection of old letters, he kept his name change papers under lock and key in a wooden box sealed with packing tape, tucked into the back of a wardrobe.
identity
P20
Norman had two more children, Vanessa (1970) and Angela (1972). My grandfather never told his new family about his Black history. Trying to shut it all out, to forget it all, Norman kept it buried for more than thirty years. He managed to conceal it very well, a very closed and secretive man.
Teenage Shane teased his father, joking that he was Aboriginal, oblivious to the truth about his identity and history. “When are we getting our land back dad?” he’d ask. My grandfather would get angry and upset. Shirley says he “would sometimes talk about his grandmother in a big apron, making blackberry pies, jam and scones”. “But this was the most he ever told me about his family. When I’d ask him why he had darker skin, he claimed it was because he was French. He’d say he hated Blacks. Sometimes he’d go upstairs and bury his face in his hands. ‘You wouldn’t understand,’ he’d tell me. ‘Mind your own business’. Three days before Norman died, Shane called and told me he thought his father might have been part of the stolen generations. He asked his father. Norman went dead white and quivered at the mouth. ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about,’ he replied, and he threw the phone at me.”
Born in 1994 in Takapuna, I lived the first five years of my life with a Black man in exile. My grandfather and I were very close. Mum, dad, my younger brother and I left for Australia in 2000. My grandfather passed away three years later, laid to rest thousands of miles away from his Nganyaywana country, the river at Inglebah. Norman suppressed his Black identity and history for over 30 years. Just like that river, he’d been running ever since. After poring through phonebooks, and thanks to the few clues my grandfather left behind, it was just
a few weeks after he passed when we found his Black family, our Black family. The next thing we knew, we were in Armidale meeting all the relatives.
Fast forward a decade. I’m 19 now. It’s December 26, 2013 and we’ve stopped on the side of the road on our way to Walcha. I’ve got yellow ochre all over my face. My grandfather’s sister looks out the car window at me. “What would he say if he could see you right now?” she chuckles. Six months later, I’m with Uncle Bim and Cousin Bailey huddled around the fireplace in a hut out on the reserve eating mpunya kara (kangaroo meat). As aripana (hail) beat down upon the tin roof, we practiced Nganyaywana language and carved clapsticks.
Our nationalism is inextricably linked to our identity, and place is fundamental in terms of identity. For instance, the Malarinti rata (McDonald River) and Inglebah (whirlpools of crayfish) and are key to my identity as a Nganyaywana tanya (man). Jamaican political leader Marcus Garvey was one of the most influential Black men of the 20th century. Garvey’s Back to Africa movement encouraged the descendants of African slaves to return to the homelands of their ancestors. We must go Back to Country, a physical and spiritual return to our respective tribal lands.
I have been asked before, why I ‘choose’ to identify? For me, it’s about three things – conviction, commitment and connection. Our bloodline connections to country, our histories and our experiences give us the inherent right to our identity. But with this right comes responsibility. I am obliged to reclaim that which was stolen, to mend the transgenerational disconnect. Norman is here. Norman is home. Norman is me.
“Teaching a man to hate himself is much more criminal than teaching him to hate someone else. We want to be somebody else, we want to be someone else, we want to be something else. Many of us want to be somewhere else. Who taught you to hate yourself?”
Malcolm X, 1964
Let’s Talk DECOLONIZATION
Indigenous peoples across the globe have experienced a violent and destructive history at the hands of colonialism, and Australia is no exception. But is colonization something of a bygone era? In consideration of all that has happened, what does decolonization look like?
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MARY GRAHAM
Kombumerri & Waka Waka philosopher
he dynamics of colonization, the way it operates has changed. For us, the impacts of colonization are still being played out, because it has never stopped. The colonizer always looks to how they can expand their empires, and extend their empires over time. Like millions of others around the world, we have suffered at the hands of an empire, the British Empire. Empires always look at the world in a lineal fashion – what’s ahead, what progress can be made in the accumulation of power and how to hang on to it. That’s what we’re dealing with. The foundation of this greed is a survivalist mentality – the whole of existence is seen to be a threat, a hostile environment. We need to have conversations about what our system, our beliefs and our values really are, build them up to pass onto younger people. Decolonization comes back to a way of thinking. We have to destroy the colonial mentality, making the crux of our thinking and conversation that we ran the country once, and that we must run the country again.
F
DALE RUSKA
Goenpul sovereignty campaigner
irst they used military might as the means of getting into our country, imposing their control and supposed authority over our place and our people. They’ve used policies including ‘protection’ and ‘assimilation’, the political tools used to suppress the rights of the original peoples. If we look at the Australian colony now, they use democracy as the means of justifying their entitlements. They tried forcing us through citizenship to become a part of their system. Within this democratic system, we represent a very small majority and only have the same rights and entitlements as Australians. But that’s us thinking in our enslaved state of consciousness. If we think as the original people, the country still belongs to us. We have become a reactive people, reacting to what it is that is being proposed by government to supposedly make our circumstances a little better. The first thing we need to do is work out who we are, and what this identity entitles us to.
T
GREGORY PHILLIPS
Waanyi & Jaru medical anthropologist
he Australian government sets the parameters and terms within which we are supposed to try and get equality. Because of this, it’s impossible for us within this current system to gain true equality, to take our rightful place as the first peoples of the land. Reconciliation and Constitutional recognition look like they’re going to give us rights. They’re actually about reasserting White power. Colonization is about greed and racism. Decolonization is about power and resource sharing, on jointly agreed terms. But I’m not interested in a few traineeships and crumbs off the table from mining companies. The assertion of our status as the first peoples is about saying to White people that we’re happy to share the land with them, but we will share it on equal terms. We have to get back to culture, and we need our own cultural revolution. If we’re going to deal with youth suicide and the other problems facing our communities, we don’t need government funding for that, we don’t need a government policy. We can act now, and we should. Decolonization in action is us taking back the power back to look after our own families and communities in ways we know can and should.
The Brisbane Aboriginal Sovereign Embassy (BASE) is a core platform for organizing political/protest action and engaging with Brisbane’s Aboriginal community. BASE holds meetings around the sacred fire in Musgrave Park every Wednesday at 6pm. The three arms of the Embassy are the Sovereign Grannies Group, Community Food Program and Brisbane Blacks Magazine. For more information, call 0424 610 492 or 0408 064 900
The Aboriginal Provisional Government (APG) formed in 1990, a product of the many generations of Aboriginal people fighting for justice. It represents the reality that only we, as Aboriginal people, can forge a proper place for ourselves and generations to come. The APG campaigns for Aboriginal sovereignty.
www.apg.org.au
ABORIGINAL NATION A Nation of Spirit A Nation with Flag A Nation with Land A Nation with hope for Self Determination
The Bring the Children Home National Aboriginal Strategic Alliance campaigns against the forced removal of Aboriginal children by state governments, providing a much needed support network for those affected by this policy and fighting the systemic disadvantage facing our people. For more information, call 0455 728 617 or 0437 084 595
www.stopstolengenerations.com.au
an Aboriginal 7th State of Australia?
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