A tribute to Gurrumul and his uncle, Mr Yunupingu

On June 2, Dr M. Yunupingu, former Yothu Yindi front man and Gumatj clan member, passed away at his home community of Yirrkala, in North-East Arnhem Land.

It’s often the case that we learn more about somebody’s life only after they die. As it happened, the week Yunupingu died, I had bought a copy of a beautiful new biography of his nephew, Geoffrey Gurrumul Yunupingu, known more commonly just as Gurrumul.

Reading the biography, and seeing the tributes flow for Yunupingu when he died, I became acutely more aware of the role musicians such as these, bands such as Yothu Yindi, have played in the struggle for recognition, appreciation and respect for Aboriginal people, and their languages and cultures.

There is, of course, the obvious. “Treaty”, for example, catapulted the demand for recognition to an international stage. As Robert Hillman writes in the new Gurrumul – his life and music, “All these issues had been spoken of in a politely insistent way for a long time, but the Yothu Yindi people were different – louder, ruder more exuberant than anyone who’d come before them.”

But an Aboriginal musician reaching international fame, singing songs in his own language – like uncle and nephew both – that has had an impact on Aboriginal audiences that is perhaps not obvious to not-Aboriginal, English-speaking fans. Merrkiyawuy Ganambarr, another relative and Yothu Yindi band member, says that Yothu Yindi paved the way for Gurrumul’s acceptance by an international audience as a solo performer.

In Yothu Yindi, he played the drums and then the guitar and keyboards (all of which he taught himself). He was never the front man like his uncle, but widely recognised as the musical strength of the band.

When he went solo, Ganambarr explains the impact his music (performed in a number of his native Yolngu languages, with smatterings of English) had on her, and presumably not just her: “When that first solo album of his came out, I cried. [He sings in a way] that makes them appeal to a white audience. But the expressions he uses in those songs, they’re the expressions we use in traditional songs … People don’t have to know what the words mean. All that they listen to is the voice, and the impression the voice conveys. And when Yolngu listen to it, we understand every word, and the meaning of every word. It’s so powerful.”

Indeed, there is something very powerful and poignant about the international accolades being showered on a Gumatj man, singing in Galpu, Gumatj and Djambarrpuyngu – three languages that, compared to other Australian Aboriginal languages are probably quite healthy, but are still considered critically endangered.

Hillman writes that Gurrumul’s songs don’t touch on politics much – quite unlike his uncle, for example, who when he wasn’t singing “Treaty” was advocating for bilingual education and becoming the Northern Territory’s first Aboriginal principal.

But perhaps there is something inherently political about an Aboriginal musician – from the strong, proud people who famously sent the bark petition to Canberra 50 years ago -- taking his language and culture to Carnegie Hall in Manhattan, to Paris and London. Writing of Gurrumul’s performance with Sting, in France 2010, Hillman writes: “The Gumatj language, the sacred repository of a culture and history older by far than that of France or any country in Europe, older than the entirety of Western civilisation, [was] about to be plaited with the younger, mongrel language of English.”

But mixed up with Hillman’s sublime observations of language and culture are light-hearted sketches of Gurrumul, down-to-earth, irreverent, utterly uninterested in fame.  The song he was meant to perform with Sting was Every Breath you Take, but “Gurrumul, relishing the swanky hotels booked for the tour … is having too much of a good time to commit himself to a whispery song with lyrics that deal ambiguously with love and longing.”

He did, in the end, do the duet, after a few frantic email exchanges between Paris and the far north Australian Elcho Island, where Gurrumul’s relatives translated Sting’s lyrics into first one, then another, of his languages, until they came up with something he was satisfied with.

Gurrumul grew up on Elcho Island, in the community of Galiwin’ku. While in recent years there has been much media focus on the conditions in Aboriginal communities, and particularly the experience of Aboriginal children there, there is something to be said for Aboriginal’s people’s approach to what the rest of us think of as disability. Gurrumul was born blind, but it didn’t hold him back: as a young one, he would ride his bike down Elcho’s famously steep hill, with family members lining the road yelling “go left! Right! Watch the pot holes!”

His family took it as given that his lack of sight would be made up for with other skills, and were not surprised when he taught himself a variety of instruments at a young age. As a left-hander, he famously plays the guitar upside-down, presumably because he had never seen it be played, so just took it as he found it and adapted to suit himself.

 His was a life seeped in an ancient language and tradition – which comes out in his music and continues to move audiences around the world to tears, although they don’t understand a word he is saying. “We come away from listening to Gurrumul with the word ‘beautiful’ on our lips”, Hillman writes, “but where that beauty comes from, its richness and complexity – that’s the wonder…

“The languages of Indigenous Australians, once numbering in the hundred, have roots in even more ancient languages … What listeners to Gurrumul’s voice and music hear is not simply ‘beauty’ but something that is the sound of life itself being honoured.” And surely, that honour is deserved, given the tenacity with which Gurrumul’s languages have survived, against the odds.

Gurrumul – his life and work, takes the reader on a whirlwind rock star tour of hotels and concert halls across Australia, Europe and the United states, as experienced by a blind man from a remote community, from one of the oldest living cultures on Earth. The story is often told from the point of view of his non-Yolngu band members and friends (as Gurrumul does not talk to journalists), who act as his some-time carers, some time cross-cultural guides.

At times verging on hilarity (he may be blind, but he adamantly refuses to wear white socks, leading to some last-minute panics), Hillman’s narrative is broken up with well-researched short essays on aspects of Yolngu language and culture, and stunning photography.

Poignantly, describing a time in 2010 when Gurrumul was dangerously ill, Hillman writes: “Any black Australian who becomes seriously ill in his late thirties has a very remote chance of reaching his late forties. A frightening number of black Australians – both men and women – lose their lives to renal failure, heart disease and liver disorders at about the age Gurrumul is now – almost thirty-nine – and many who are spared succumb ten or twenty years later.”

And so it was for Gurrumul’s uncle, fellow Gumatj, fellow trailblazer.  Mr Yunupingu was 56 years old, and he died of kidney failure.

In her June 5 obituary on The Drum, Tracy Hutchinson wrote: “I doubt there has been a more profoundly moving induction into the ARIA Hall of Fame than Yothu Yindi's last year.

And I doubt there is a more shameful indictment on us all that Mr Yunupingu died from a treatable illness in Australia in 2013. There are no cheap words to describe the magnitude of that.”

There are no words to describe it, and of course, Aboriginal people don't need words - they are living it. 

And the grieving for this particular man will last a long time. But thanks to his work, and also to technology, Aboriginal people from Arnhem Land and across the country can still watch him, painted up in ways that only they fully understand , singing "Treaty" to the world. Yunupingu's legacy is the voice and pride he gave to his people, and that legacy lives on in Gurrumul and others.

Alcohol. Enshrine it in Territory life! but only in pubs - not parks!

At the Australian Hotels Association award night on May 22, Northern Territory Chief Minister Adam Giles said said  the NT's drinking culture was a "core social value", The ABC reported on May 23 that Giles said "'having a coldie' in a pub should be 'enshrined' as part of Territory life."

Alcohol indeed is a disturbingly  central part of life for many Territorians. The NT has the second-highest alcohol consumption rate in the world, and the highest rate of alcohol-related deaths in Australia.

Alcohol is a serious public health issue, and should be treated as such. International evidence consistently shows that the most effective policy approach to alcohol-related harm involves taking on the powerful liquor lobby: introducing price controls, limiting  take-away opening hours and licensing.

But the NT government has recently taken retrograde steps that will instead punish people who have alcohol addictions, effectively criminalising drinking by allowing police to ban people from drinking for three months at a time.

The new policy, announced on May 10 (and outlined in last week's Green Left) has been roundly condemned by health and Aboriginal justice experts.

So has the CLP done an about  face on how it views alcohol consumption in the NT? Is it a problem, or a fundamental human right?

The answer may lie in the different drinking patterns and places of Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal people. Because of complex historical and cultural factors, Aboriginal people in  the NT are more likely to drink outside, such as in parks or on the beach. than in hotels.

So, while a "coldie in a pub" might be an important part of NT life, according to the CLP, its tough-on-crime, clean-up-the-streets approach to alcohol means Aboriginal people will overwhelmingly be targeted by its harsh new measures.

In case there  was doubt about where the CLP stands in the debate about alcohol supply measures, the ABC reported that Giles told the awards night "the Government would do its best to support the liquor industry".

Another post for the long-grassers out the back

This year I am taking postgraduate studies in Aboriginal policy.  Today, national Close the Gap [on Indigenous Health] Day, I spent immersed in reading about child protection policy: a history, with particular focus on Aboriginal child welfare.

It's poignant reading that  stuff when you live in the NT - where the pointy end of neoliberal approach to Aboriginal policy is playing out, where a "national emergency" in Aboriginal communities  was declared, supposedly in response to child abuse, and Aboriginal affairs was set back 40-odd years.

I read all about the ongoing legacy of the years of taking Aboriginal children away: intergenerational trauma, imprisonment, drug and alcohol abuse ... you name it. And how fraught any new child protection policy is going to be, given the such recent memory Aboriginal families have of police coming into town and taking babies out of their mothers' arms.

And how, despite the Bringing them Home report, the Report of the Royal Commission into Aboriginal deaths in Custody, the apology, and everything else that has acknowledged the wrongs, the rate of Aboriginal children being removed from families continues to rise.... It is a form of genocide, this taking of black kids and placing them with white families.

Anyway. Today, while I studied at home, the long-grassers in the park out the back got themselves a ghetto blaster, and all day as they had their drinking session they were listening to awesome Aboriginal music: Blakbala mujik, Gurrumul, East Journey. They got pretty raucous for a while there, but it sounded like they were having fun, and I appreciated the soundtrack to my otherwise fairly heavy day.

Some time later in the day, though, it sounded like things might be getting out of hand. I went out to make sure everything was ok. And it was - the widely respected Larrakia Night Patrol workers were there, chatting quietly to the women separately, calming the men down. It was all fine. I don't know what will happen after June 30, when the night patrol is due  to lose its funding. I guess the police will turn up instead, and cart people off to the mandatory drying-out centres and work farms for "problem drunks" the CLP keeps talking about.

As I turned to go inside, I noticed that the song blasting out from their cheap tinny speakers had changed. It was Archie Roach's Took The Children Away.

This story's right, this story's true
I would not tell lies to you
Like the promises they did not keep
And how they fenced us in like sheep.
Said to us come take our hand
Sent us off to mission land.
Taught us to read, to write and pray
Then they took the children away,
Took the children away,
The children away.
Snatched from their mother's breast
Said this is for the best
Took them away.

The welfare and the policeman
Said you've got to understand
We'll give them what you can't give
Teach them how to really live.
Teach them how to live they said
Humiliated them instead
Taught them that and taught them this
And others taught them prejudice.
You took the children away
The children away
Breaking their mothers heart
Tearing us all apart
Took them away
[http://www.lyricsmania.com/took_the_children_away_lyrics_archie_roach.html]

It was pretty hard not to cry, after everything I'd been reading and thinking about all day.

I guess what I'm saying is, go easy on these survivors of [ongoing] trauma. Be gentle and understanding of the sometimes unhealthy, unhelpful ways they express - or escape from - the pain of what they've been through.

What's been happening in the NT?

... Certainly enough to keep us busy.

The Country Liberal Party government has done a deal with Rio Tinto to keep its polluting alumina refinery open at Nhulunbuy, byguaranteeing a gas supply, at taxpayers' expense, so Rio can make the switch from diesel to gas. Great to see the government locking us in to another non-renewable energy source for the near future.

Will this put even more pressure on nearby Aboriginal people to say yes to shale gas mining on their land?

The Environment Centre NT  has been doing some great organising around this issue, which kept us busy for a while - and hopefully will continue to do so if we can get  a community campaign happening.

Meanwhile new mandatory sentencing have come into effect in the NT, at the same time that diversionary programs such as Larrakia Nation's Night Patrol are being defunded. Presumably, though, this is all a good thing because according to CLP MP Bess Price prison is good for Aboriginal people.  They get three meals a day, sober up and  come out a lot healthier, she says. Well... yes, either that or they, you know, don't come out at all.

According to the NT News, the monsoon is finally arriving. Although it's been reporting that for most of  this horrendously hot, dry "wet" season.

And here's a pic of smoko time at the home office.

Islamophobia: alive and well in the Top End

Earlier this year, I went to a fancy dress party dressed as a ninja. 

I drove us there, so I guess through the window all people would've seen was a head veiled in black with a slot for the eyes. In the 15-minute drive through Darwin suburb

s, I had a carload of young white men swear at me and give me the finger, another man in another car yell "go home", and third car speed past us while throwing a beer can out the window, which came flying back in our direction. 

Anyone who thinks Australia is not a racist country need only try out this experiment (at the time I wasn't even consciously undertaking an "experiment" but it sure was a wake-up call).

I was pretty shaken by the time I got to the party. This is the daily reality for women who wear the veil in Australia.

Pacific Solution 2.0 begins

On September 13, Pete and I tried to run away to Mandorah for the night, mainly to sleep, and hang out without doing any political organising. We've been there a few times before, have, in fact, blogged about it. You take the ferry across to the cox peninsula, and there within stumbling distance of  the jetty, is the daggy Mandorah pub.

It's a large, mainly outdoor affair, simple concrete floors and a tin roof - feels a bit like a big converted garage, open to the elements on three sides. The meals blackboard proudly proclaims it  the "no hot chips pub", and the guys who run it learn your name and offer free tea and coffee.

It's right on the beach, looking back over the water towards Darwin. We tried to ignore the sinister-looking navy ships slightly blocking the view (we learned on the TV later they were returning from multilateral war games).

It had been a busy few weeks - apart from me not being very healthy, this is what we'd been up to: Darwin refugee advocates condemn Pacific Solution . We spent the afternoon quite indulgently enjoying having a TV(a novelty that soon bored us), and I did some laps in the pool with blue and yellow peeling paint, feeling somehow like I was back in time at a holiday resort from an earlier era.

As we had dinner back at the bar, enjoying the sunset, I thought that I was finally relaxing, after a few months that have been rather anxious, for reasons I won't go into.

And then Labor's rotten, cruel new policy to send asylum seekers to Nauru intruded into our holiday, as we heard the first planeload of  refugees was likely to leave for the island gulag that night.

The media calls came until almost 11pm, then started again at 6:30am.

We could have turned our phones off, theoretically. But how can we when our own government prepares to send some of the most vulnerable people on the planet far away from our support, from legal support, from adequate health facilities...  When men, women and children in detention in Darwin can't  eat or sleep, so anxious are they as they wait to hear if they'll be among those left to languish on Nauru - for up to five years, according to the government.

This is already a failed policy: it hasn't stopped the boats - more asylum seekers have arrived on our shores since the legislation was passed then there is capacity to accommodate at Nauru or  Manus. It hasn't stopped deaths at sea- just days after the legislation passed, around 100 people died as their boat sunk after leaving Indonesia.

All the policy will do is destroy the mental health of refugees, whip up xenophobia and confirm what many around the world already know to be true: the Australian government is racist, cruel and has no respect for human rights.

With heavy hearts we pulled ourself back across the water, to Darwin and all that awaited us there. For now, it seemed, the asylum seekers detained in Darwin had escaped being sent to Nauru, but it's highly likely they will be among those transferred over following weeks.

It reminded me of the line to a song, "We who believe in freedom cannot rest ... until it comes."

Like a friend said recently, I hope Labor & Coalition MPs responsible for this new level of cruelty policy will cause are also not sleeping well at night.

Thursday night at the markets

On Thursday evening, fired up after a bit of healthy protesting with the Bagot community, I rode down to  the Mindil Beach markets, hoping to run into some friends, regular market go-ers, and give them their copy of Green Left Weekly.

Suggested to Pete he might want drive  down later and have dinner there (code for I don't want to ride home up those hills, will you come and get me?). Arrived at the markets, Anja and Michael weren't in their usual spot, realised I'd left my mobile at home - oh no! How would Pete find me! I'd have to ride home afterall....?!

Anyway it all worked out fine, of course. Yummy food was eaten as the sunset over Mindil beach and fire performers did their thing. We ate very early, looking forward to an early, quiet night at home.

Headed back to the car. To find that we were surrounded on all sides by other parked vehicles. None of this  two-neat-lines of car parks rubbish for the wild Territory. No, people park on traffic islands, verges, footpath, the beach... wherever they can fit their wheels, pretty much. Which, on Thursday, meant all around our Patrol, thus blocking our escape on all sides.

So much for a quiet evening at home.

Fortunately it is Darwin Festival time, and one of the Festival Parks happens to be in the Botanic Gardens, just opposite the markets. So we went over the road, lolled around on the outdoor furniture, among the palm  trees, under the fairy lights, beside the spiegeltent, drinking  cider and trying to estimate at what time drivers of a certain (very funky) purple ute might be leaving the markets that evening.

Got back the car park, and yay! Purple ute is gone! Only to be replaced by another car. Sigh.

Some highly skilled and very patient manouevring  finally had us squeezing out, much to the disbelief of some passing rather intoxicated lads.

And that was our Thursday evening.

Bagot community takes on Tollner

Up to 200 Bagot community residents and supporters rallied outside CLP MLA Dave Tollner’s office on August 16, in anger over his plans to ‘normalise’ their home.

In June, Tollner, the incumbent for Fong Lim in the August 25 territory election, released a “Special Ludmilla edition” of his Tollner Telegraph, which said “Both the Country Liberals and Territory Labor have committed to normalising Bagot and turning it into one of Darwin’s newest suburbs”. The CLP plans to encourage long-term Bagot residents to buy their own homes: those that refuse will have their homes handed over to Territory Housing.

Bagot Council currently holds the lease for the land at Bagot, and the housing is managed by the  Yilli Rreung Housing Association. Tollner hasn’t explained how his plan would effect the leasing arrangement, or what would happen to Yilli Rreung. In fact, he hasn’t spoken to the community about his plans at all, which is why the community attempted to come to him.

This isn’t the first attack Tollner has launched on Darwin’s unique town communities. In May, he called for One Mile Dam to be closed down. ABC Online reported on May 3 that Tollner said “"Every feral across Darwin sort of bases themselves at One Mile Dam ... It is just full of filth and disease, and degradation."

Tollner wasn’t in when  the Bagot crowd gathered at his office, his secretary announced he was “out in the electorate speaking to constituents”. But that didn’t stop people making their feelings about his announcements clear.

Holding placards that read “Normalise – please explain”,  “I love Bagot” and “Bagot Community, our past, present and future”, the fiery crowd took turns to speak about the importance of Bagot, and their outrage at Tollner’s presumptuousness.

Bagot Council president Helen Fejo-Frith told the crowd: “This is about saving our home. Our children were born here, their parents were born here ... We’ll still be her when [Tollner] is gone. Politicians  come and go. They call us  itinerants – but they’re the itinerants.”

The council has collaborated with Yilli Rreung and the University of Melbourne to create a Bagot Village Development Plan, which is already in the early stages of development. Fejo-Frith had hoped to present the plan to Tollner, to show that the community had its own ideas.

Larrakia musician Ali Mills referred to Australian governments’ long history of moving  Aboriginal people around; Bagot was originally a residential facility for Stolen Generations children. “How long is the government going to keep moving us mob on for?” she demanded.

Sheila White is a young woman who was born and raised in Bagot. Addressing the absent Tollner, she said: “You mob should be celebrating us [town communities]! We are unique. Where else in Australia do we have special places  where our people can gather together, yarn, celebrate? We’re going to be here for a long time yet!”

Bagot residents were encouraged to sign a petition demanding that Bagot remain a community and not  be re-zoned. The petition calls on the local member to support Bagot to keep the land, govern itself and build a stronger, healthier community.

Representatives from the progressive parties running in the territory elections  - the Greens, First Nations Political Party and Sex Party -  and progressive independents were also there to show their support.

NIMAs: Indigenous music's night of nights

Last night, on a cooler than usual August Darwin night, we huddled under the stars for the 2012 National Indigenous Music Awards (NIMAs).

There was no red carpet, just the wonderful natural amphitheatre in the botanic gardens. Apart from Indigenous outlets, there was little or no media (in a Google search today, only  one short piece on ABC comes up).  The event is one of  the few where there are about equal numbers of black and white Australians in the crowd  - the other that springs  to mind is the football, when the  Tiwi Bombers are playing.

But over the course of the evening, the crowd was reminded of just how much we have to  celebrate, and seek inspiration from, the talent and creativity held within Aboriginal communities, urban and remote, across this enormous continent. “Mainstream” Australian society could do with more exposure to this stuff, rather than the endless reporting on the violence & dysfuntion that is supposedly tearing Aboriginal Australia apart.

Thelma Plum from Brisbane took out this year’s triple j NIMA Unearthed award: her voice took my breath away. A highlight of the evening was when Plum joined Queensland band The Medics (who took out best song, best album, and best new talent) and the legendary Bunna Lawrie from Coloured Stone for a hauntingly beautiful rendition of Blowin’ in the Wind.

Maningrida rock outfit Sunrize Band reminded the crowd that land rights are still an issue to be defended. Described by Rolling Stone as “a swinging Arnhem Land blend of Hendrix, Neil Young and didgeridoo”, Sunrize Band was inducted into the Hall of Fame, as was the Lajamanu Teenage Band and the late Jimmy Little, who mentored and inspired much of the talent on display at the award night.

A new Arnhem Land band, East Journey, mentored by Yothu Yindi’s Mandawuy Yunupingu, took out the NT Film Clip of the Year and the G.R. Bururrawanga Memorial Award for outstanding contribution to the NT music industry.

The young men of East Journey blend contempory and traditional instruments, English  and Yolŋu Matha, smart button-down shirts and body paint in a proud display of the two worlds they inhabit. Knowing the  shyness and awkwardness felt by so many  young Yolŋu, who so often feel so lost  in the ever-changing reality of their  worlds , just heightened the appreciation of this group’s bravery and pride.

Desert bands were also well presented on the night. Well-loved country musician Warren H Williams has recently released taken the bold step of releasing an album in his language, the language of the Waramungu people.  He was performing with the Waramungu songmen, showcasing his new fusion of two Indigenous languages and modern and traditional beats. Warren and the songmen shared the Traditional Music Award with Shellie Morris and the Borroloola  Songwomen.

Lajamanu Teenage Band were a local favourite when I lived at  Irrunytju Community in WA 14 years ago. No longer teenagers, the band still manages to speak straight to the heart of many of  the issues facing young people in Aboriginal communities:  drug  and alcohol use, family,  community and country. They were also  inducted into the Hall of Fame, and celebrated by closing the night with a rousing set, performed to countrymen  and women who had travelled from across the Territory to see them.

After the show, we caught the free shuttle bus home. We were pretty much the only whitefellas on that late-night bus, whose route takes in some of the larger town camps. We surrounded by people from different clans and nations – desert and saltwater – bursting with pride in family members who’d performed, singing along with snippets recorded onto smartphones, talking about who they might see on the stage next year. 

It made me think about how there is a huge part of Aboriginal Australia that most people just don’t see: the  family part, the successful, talented, professional and beautiful part.

If more of us did see it, would the mainstream media and the politicians be able to get away with their  racism as easily as they do?

Check out some great new music from Indigenous artists:

Gurrumul and Sarah Blasko:   http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oGxXobjjacY

East Journey: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C9ukMIi2dJQ

Thelma Plum: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=93BrMeZ6pMk

A bad week for the Northern Territory...

The week of June 18-22 will be a difficult one for Aboriginal communities in the NT, and defenders of Aboriginal rights the nation over. While rallies and meetings will take place to commemorate June 21 - the anniversary of that fateful day when John Howard and Mal Brough announced the NT Intervention - Labor's Stronger Futures legislation is expected to pass through the Senate on June 18.


Here's a talk I wrote thinking about that, and about the Yolngu friends and colleagues who will bare the brunt of whatever might come next.


* * *


This talk will be a bit different to others I have given, although it feels like I’ve been talking about the NT intervention for so many years I don’t have to think about it.

I did think about it this time though. For many years, whenever I gave a talk about the struggle of Aboriginal people in Australia, it was me, a non-Aboriginal person, talking by and large to other non-Aboriginal people, about something I’d glimpsed and thought I knew enough about that I could share it.

These days, on a typical day, as a non-Aboriginal person, I am often in a minority.  I work and travel with Yolngu - the First People of the North East Arnhem Land region. Often I have no idea what is going on. The people I call my colleagues, friends, family, are affected by the government’s racist policies on a very personal level: their son is in prison, their daughter attempted suicide again, their grandchildren are disengaged from mainstream education because all of a sudden it’s all in English - their fifth language. They themselves have been diagnosed with a disease otherwise eradicated from the First World.

So these days, when I think about the NT intervention, these are the things that first come to mind. And I feel I owe it to the people I work with to bring some of that into this talk.

That’s not to say it isn’t political. In fact, what we’re talking about cuts to the very heart of
Australian politics: we’re talking about a country founded on racism, on dispossession, a wealthy First World nation made so with stolen resources taken from stolen Aboriginal land, on the back of unpaid Aboriginal labour. When I travel through Arnhem Land today, I think what I am seeing is just the continuation of those colonialist, assimilationist, interventionist policies we
may have hoped ended with the so-called era of self-determination.


It’s the pointy end of what, actually, Labor is doing everywhere. Maybe it’s just more obvious in the NT, where Aboriginal people make up 30% of the population, as opposed to less than 4% in other states.

The NT Intervention was launched by the Howard Coalition government in 2007. Its extension, insultingly called “Stronger Futures”, is a wake-up call for anybody who’d forgotten about
the bipartisan nature of Australian racism. Labor’s Stronger Futures strengthens many of the more punitive aspects of the NT Intervention - the ridiculously harsh grog laws, income management, the linking of welfare payments to school attendance - and enshrines them in law for decade.

By the time the legislation is up for review in 7 years, there will be Yolngu teenagers who have lived their entire lives under this apartheid system, regulated by laws nobody else in Australia is governed by.

I feel I owe it to my Yolngu friends and colleagues to re-frame some of the things I said at the start of this talk. Aboriginal people are imprisoned at much higher rates than non-Aboriginal people, they die much earlier... there are so many shameful statistics that I hope many people here are already familiar with. But it is important to also celebrate their strength, resilience, their spirit of resistance and survival. Not only did the first nations of this continent live sustainably in sometimes pretty harsh environments. They have resisted and survived 220 years of explicit or implicit genocide at worst and government neglect at best.

They still hold their heads up high and speak with pride of their language and culture. Where I spend my time, Yolngu people still practise their rich cultural and legal traditions. It might
be banned in the schools, but they’re still speaking their languages - the oldest living languages on the planet. We have to celebrate that.

In the last year, there has been a movement in Arnhem Land to revive the Yolngu Nations Assembly. This isn’t a new development on one level - it’s a reminder of the political and
legal institutions that existed here long before someone decided planting a flag on a beach meant anything significant.

But in a way it’s a new development - the onslaught of the intervention and Stronger Futures policies has forced Yolngu leaders to regroup, to unite to fight. They’re doing it combining their own ancient languages, political structures and clan associations with a feisty, media-savvy, campaigning approach that personally I find quite humbling. People who don’t speak an awful lot of English are moved by the solidarity coming from down south, and are gaining the confidence to do things like radio interviews, or fly to Sydney to speak at rallies. 


They might have to stand on top of the troopcarrier to get mobile coverage, and they might have to put on the first pair of socks they’ve ever worn, as they fly into a NSW winter, but they are seeing the importance of grassroots campaigning and solidarity in a way reminiscent of the Gurindji struggle, and Vincent Lingiari’s fundraising trips with unionists and radicals.

I’d encourage everybody to have a look at the statement the Yolngu Nations Assembly released condemning the Stronger Futures package as it prepared to pass through the Senate. (www.concernedaustralians.com.au)

The statement calls on traditional owners and land councils to refuse to release any more land for government leases until the Stronger Futures legislation is withdrawn in its entirety. That’s quite radical. They call for homelands –some of which may only have 20 or 30 people – to be given equal weight to larger communities in terms of resource allocation and economic development.

That is important because, at the same time the federal Coalition was rolling out the intervention- literally rolling, in army tanks – the NT Labor government was enacting a “Hub Towns” policy that starved the homelands of funds, channelled people into large communities. And all the evidence shows that the health, education and general wellbeing indicators on homelands far outweigh those in the larger communities.

The Yolngu Nations know this, because this is their home: the government might not have graded the road for five years, there may be no medical services, the place might be inaccessible during the wet season, but the homelands are their strength. It’s where they go to get away all the heavy crap the government keeps laying on them. It’s where they take their kids who are trapped in the cycle of racism and poverty and are succumbing to petrol sniffing. It’s where they are alive and strong.

But these aren’t things the government is concerned about. The economic rationalist agenda implicit in the government’s “Closing the Gap” strategy doesn’t quite have the imagination to work out how 30 people living simply with a diesel generator could be “economically viable”.

How does the government encourage the important things like private home ownership and economic participation in a place where there is only one house, and no economy – at least nothing resembling the market economy the government is hellbent on thrusting  onto Aboriginal communities, never mind it’s the same market economy that is destroying the climate and undermining workers’ rights.

I think the homelands movement is an important precisely because it doesn’t fit this capitalist modus operandi – it asks us to think differently about “economy” and “employment”. It asks us to take risks and allow Yolngu to take risks too – maybe even risks that a resourced by the taxpayer, god forbid.


I don’t believe Stronger Futures, and all the associated federal and territory neoliberal policies, will destroy Yolngu communities. But that says everything about my confidence in the strength of the First Nations – not about my conviction that these racist, regressive laws are a huge step backwards that will take years to recover from. Aboriginal people will survive. With our help, they will change the laws, and rebuild.

But they will need our support and solidarity. It will be a long struggle. It will require that we take risks, are willing to take the lead from an ancient people with a wisdom very different from our own.


Healthy homelands, successful two-way learning, strong and confident community leaderships can take years to build up. And, as recent policy shifts show us, they can be destroyed in the time it takes to pass a new law through the Senate. But the underlying resilience, the fighting spirit and commitment of Aboriginal people, are still there. These will be the foundation for whatever struggle comes next.

When the dust settles on Stronger Futures and apartheid in the NT is “normalised” for another generation, let’s make it our duty to not let this fall off the agenda. Yolngu will continue to fight, in ever-changing ways, and we can make it our pledge to fight alongside them.

In the future – the truly stronger future, when we live in a society that celebrates human worth, community control & a sustainable environment- we will look back with pride, in ourselves and our Aboriginal brothers and sisters that we ensured the  world’s oldest living culture survived even this - and shame that it came so close to destruction.

Only in the Territory...

This will be a short post to show some of the madness of the place I now call home.

First up, the cover story of today's paper:

Apparently Harry the Croc is psychic and has picked Gillard as the winner of Monday's leadership ballot in the ALP. This is the front goddamn page of the only paper produced in the NT. This is what counts as news of national importance here.

Local politics is even worse:

The mayor of Palmerston has been stood down and placed on the banned drinkers list because he threatened his neighbours with some golf clubs because their dogs were too loud. The banned drinkers list is a small exclusive list of a few hundred people who are not allowed to drink, this existence of which means everyone has to hand over their licence to be scanned every time they buy take-away.

The deputy who should replace him is now being investigated by police because there is a report that he was seen nude inside his house. What precise law there is against being nude in your own house I'm not sure of, but I rarely claim to be a lawyer.

Maybe there will be a new law and order campaign based on this new interpretation of what one can and can't do in their own home. The slogans for such a campaign write themselves. "Are you now or have you ever been nude?" "If you see something, say something." "Be someone! Report domestic nudity today!"

I mean I know that there is a lot of nudity in the NT. The build-up is noted for such behaviour. Some places wait for the first sparrow of Summer. Canberra waits for the first magpie attack of Spring. We wait for the first nude drink-driving arrest of the Build-Up. This year, it was a couple. Romantic, I guess.

But if you think this is just the result of the NT News (a News Ltd. rag designed to drive out the local union-run paper of substance that preceded it), THINK AGAIN! Look at this from the ABfrickenC:

Dr David Bowman, a professor of environmental change biology at UTAS has suggested that we introduce elephants to Central Australia to help fight bushfires. I mean, introducing invasive species to Australia has always gone so well, don't you think?

Good grief can you imagine if elephants reach cane toad plague proportions? Apparently, they can also have a bit of a problem with grog, destroying African villages to get to stills. I'd like to see the the banned drinkers register work there.

"I'm sorry, Babar, I can't serve you."

"BABAR SMASH!"

That the above image was the second image that came up in a "BABAR SMASH" Google search restores my faith in humanity somewhat. It's from http://zoofights.squarespace.com/zoofights-vi/2011/7/27/double-eelix-vs-kali-babar.html. In no way will I vouch for it or its SafeForWork status.

Maybe this is just a response to the "anything goes" planning department here in the NT. UTAS Prof looked at the massive development plans for Northern Australia and just said: "Fuck it! Introduce elephants! Mad Max-style anarchy can't come soon enough for these Territorian nutbags." Or maybe Tasmanians are just crazy.

Anyway, I'm off to get three forms of ID and a note from my doctor so I can have a drink.

Darwin seems to be having a tediously long build-up this season. When we arrived in the Top End on New Years' Eve 2010, the monsoon was well and truly here, with refreshing downpours most afternoons to take the edge off the humidity.

Not this year. It is still suffocatingly hot and humid and the forecast storms each afternoon don't eventuate.

It dawned on me that the heat might be partially responsible for my sleeplessness and irritability. Pete and I had been feeling particularly virtuous about the fact we'd never used our air conditioner, but last night we relented in the interests of a good night's sleep.

But evidently, the hitherto not-experienced sound/vibration of the air conditioner meant  that our resident possum, upon return from its nightly frolic, was too nervous to take its usual route back into the roof.

Out in the  garden this morning, I looked up to see one very perturbed and fretful possum, huddling in a corner on the roof, trying to scratch its way back home, desperate to escape the rising sun and coming heat.

Awww! Too cute!

Apparently it was still there when Pete got up a few hours later, but when I got home this evening it had  disappeared (I admit we did check the ground below for any sun-struck, dehydrated possums...)

So... do we use the air conditioner tonight?! I KNOW we should be doing whatever we can to keep possums out of our roof... but how cute is this little thing?!

Baby orange-footed scrub fowl

It's so cute!

Grant brings great skies

So the tropical low is now a category 2 cyclone, called Grant, and so far the only effect it has had on Darwin is some pretty awesome clouds.

I think the Aboriginal communities to the north and east of us aren't faring so well though :(

Awesome photos were taken by Peter.

Emma's Christmas Special

Well, this has nothing to do with Christmas, actually, reflecting how I feel about the day.

We're waiting to see what Cyclone Grant does with our plans for a lazy couple of days. For some reason this "waiting for potential disaster" tone of the day inspired me to post these photos that I've been meaning to do something with for weeks. Perhaps in case our awesome camera gets blown away and we lose them?!

I started an "Animals in the night" photo project a while ago, but some  of the critters I wanted to capture I could only find during the day.

So. Here they are.

I used to call these  two the love birds, but I think in fact they are Bar Shouldered Doves, having  bought myself a bird book. They were camping on a branch over our  toilet, so I had lots of viewing opportunities.  For a little while there was  only one of them, but then the other one came back (or a new partner was found).

Since the wet  season set in, they've found somewhere else - hopefully somewhere drier- to sleep.

The ubiquitous green tree/toilet frog. 

These two orange-footed scrubfowl are very territorial birds. They live in our yard, mainly on the ground, but they have been known to fly when we accidentally startle them. 

They're very flighty, incredibly hard to get close enough to to photograph (in fact Pete recently spotted what he thinks must be their chick, but only for a second, and we've not seen it since). They are a very entertaining couple- we often wake up at night to the sound of them cackling away to each other. Hence we've taken to calling them "the cackle heads".

I think they sleep among the leave litter under a big tree in our yard, but my night-time sneaking about hasn't yet resulted in me finding their nest, though they taunt me with their cackling.

I'll keep trying to get a photo of their chick.

Saluting the sun:

And here is our nightly indoor companion, entertaining us with its moth-hunting, as it takes advantage of the time we have the light on and attract all the insects:

The other night it caught a moth that was perhaps heavier than anticipated, and it fell onto the piano with half its catch still protruding from its jaw. Luckily it landed on its feet and continued its feast as  though nothing happened.

I took these photos with zoom and flash, and got that  weird effect as though the gecko were hovering in light, or under a microscope or something.

So there is my Christmas special for ya'll.

Things I love about where we live

* Lying in bed watching the geckos frolic on the ceiling

* Waking up in the night when everything is quiet and  the tide is high, hearing the waves crash on the beach

*Seeing the hint of a glorious sunset glow through the trees, and thirty seconds later being out on the beach, watching it

*Spying on the hilarious but very shy orange-footed scrub fowl that live in our garden

* The pair of doves that snuggle together at night on the branch over our  toilet

*Taking photos of places in our garden in different seasons

*Cooling off in the pool just before bed: floating on my back looking up at  the tropical garden flickering in the reflected pool light

*Waking up to dramatic thunderstorms (when I'm not having a PTSD relapse.  Then I don't like  the  thunder so much)

*So much more!

Storm clouds over Litchfield

So last week, my birthday week, was a very busy one politically. Little old Darwin town experienced a temporary occupation by Obama and all his attendant security entourages, noisy-as-hell fighter jets and announcements that Darwin is going to be home to up to 2500 US marines as they defend US imperialism in the region and, I guess, practice killing people. There goes paradise... http://www.greenleft.org.au/node/49496

Then we launched the new concerned Australians book, Walk With Us. Ninety people  turned up to hear voices of Aboriginal people speaking out against the NT Intervention. Awesome!

Then finally we headed off to Batchelor, for some much-needed R&R...

Including gourmet goodies, of course.

We spent a day at Litchfield  National Park back in July, the dry season. It is so different now. It has gone from dusty dry scrub land to... well.... check it out:

I'm not sure my amateur photography adequately captures the dramatic storm clouds:

It turns out champagne and chocolate-dipped strawberries go REALLY well together. How did it take me 33 years to discover this!? On the  other hand, champagne and a good night's sleep don't seem to go hand in hand?

Thanks to my awesome friend in Sydney for the gourmet treats that meant that, even when the monsoonal showers kept us inside, we were well-catered  for and happily indulged.

And then I went crazy with the camera.