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Social Justice Report 1998 : Introduction: A Handful of Soil

Social Justice Report 1998

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  • Introduction: A Handful
    of Soil



    The removal
    of the children from Wave Hill by MacRobertson Miller aircraft was
    accompanied by distressing scenes the like of which I wish never to
    experience again. The engines of the 'plane are not stopped at Wave
    Hill and the noise combined with the strangeness of an aircraft only
    accentuated the grief and fear of the children, resulting in near-hysteria
    in two of them. I am convinced that the news of my action at Wave
    Hill preceded me to other stations, resulting in the children being
    taken away prior to my arrival.

    I endeavoured
    to assuage the grief of the mothers by taking photographs of each
    of the children prior to their departure and these have been distributed
    among them. Also a dress length was given (to) the five mothers. Gifts
    of sweets to the children helped to break down a lot of their fear
    and I feel that removal by vehicle would have been effected without
    any fuss.

    Report from
    Northern Territory Patrol Officer, 23 December 1949. [1]

    Wave Hill Station
    was built on a pastoral lease granted over the land of the Gurindgji
    people. On 23 August 1966, about 17 years after the children were removed
    from Wave Hill, the Gurindji and others walked off the property in support
    of the payment of wages to Aboriginal stockmen: $25.00 a week. They
    established a settlement at Wattie Creek, known as Daguragu, and the
    strike grew to a claim for their traditional land within the Wave Hill
    Station lease.

    In 1966 Aboriginal
    people in Australia were deprived of many of the most basic rights.
    The doctrine of 'terra nullius' had clear-felled Aboriginal entitlement
    to their traditional estates throughout the country and the social Darwinian
    beliefs which underpinned that doctrine continued to shape official
    policy and the treatment of Aboriginal people. The policy was one of
    assimilation. The exercise and enjoyment of human rights by Indigenous
    Australians was effectively conditional on the removal or abandonment
    of their distinct culture and identity.

    At the beginning
    of 1966 the Cattle Station Industry (Northern Territory) Award of
    1951
    prescribed minimum conditions and terms of employment for employees
    on cattle stations in the Northern Territory. Aboriginal people were
    excluded from its operation. Aboriginal stockmen were treated as wards
    of the state under the 'protection' of the Crown. The terms and conditions
    of their employment were prescribed under the 1953 Wards' Employment
    Ordinance
    . In 1966 the lowest ward's wage was about one-fifth of
    the Award minimum for whites: it was less than half the unemployment
    benefit then payable to other Australians. [2]

    In March 1966 the
    Conciliation and Arbitration Commission upheld an application to extend
    the protection of the Award to Aboriginal workers. The application was
    made by the Northern Australian Workers Union. No Aboriginal witnesses
    were called to give evidence. The Commission accepted the unchallenged
    evidence of pastoralists that 'at least a significant proportion of
    the Aboriginals employed on cattle stations on the Northern Territory
    is retarded by tribal and cultural reasons from appreciating in full
    the concept of work'. [3] The Commission further accepted
    that, if equal wages were granted to Aboriginal workers, many would
    lose their jobs, displaced by white workers.

    However, this consequential
    unemployment was not regarded as blatant racial discrimination. Rather
    it was seen as an advantage. It would further government policy by encouraging
    Aboriginal people to leave their traditional lands on cattle stations
    to enter government 'settlements' or church 'missions'.

    If, therefore,
    as a result of our decision substantial numbers of Aborigines moved
    to settlements or missions it is our view that the policy of assimilation
    and integration will be assisted rather than hindered. Those Aborigines
    who move will be those who are now having the greatest difficulty
    in understanding the concept of work and fitting into our economic
    community whilst those who remain will be the most advanced and therefore
    the easier to assimilate on the station properties. [4]

    In the view of
    the Conciliation and Arbitration Commission the exclusion of Aboriginal
    people from equal protection under the Award was contrary to 'overwhelming
    industrial justice'. There can be little doubt that the Commission's
    judgement was well intentioned and based on a determination to advance
    the interests of Aboriginal people. It was cast however within a framework
    of values that excluded the views of Aboriginal people themselves. The
    real impact of 'dislocation ... to the Aborigines' was simply not perceived,
    save in terms of their assimilation and what others thought was good
    for them.

    The Commission's
    appreciation of the impact of its decision on pastoralists was not so
    remote. The extension of protection under the Award and the payment
    of equal wages was delayed by three years to 'give the pastoralists
    an opportunity to consider the future of their Aboriginal employees
    and to make arrangements for their replacement by white labour if necessary'.
    [5]

    This episode in
    the story of the Gurindji people draws out many perennial issues concerning
    the values and the complex dynamics that shape the inter-relationship
    of Indigenous and non-Indigenous Australians. The events at Daguragu
    are located in a precise time, in a precise location, with particular
    actors: but these events also hold an emblematic quality. They embody
    general themes and forces which have permeated Australian history and
    which remain active today.

    The process, reasoning
    and application of the decision in the Equal Wage Case also reveals
    the potential distance between the perspectives of Indigenous and non-Indigenous
    Australians. The values and assumptions which shape laws, policies and
    practices directed at Aboriginal people bear no necessary relationship
    with the interests of Aboriginal people as they understand and experience
    them. No Aboriginal voice was heard in the Conciliation and Arbitration
    Commission's proceedings. Indigenous interests were interpreted by others.

    Even the positive
    recognition of the right to equal wages was undercut by its practical
    application. The right to equal pay was not protected by a corresponding
    right to equality of employment. The collateral damage caused by the
    decision and the impact of consequential unemployment was viewed only
    from the vantagepoint of furthering government policy. While relieved
    from the specific paternalism of payment under the Wards' Ordinance
    the wider effect of the decision was considered within a broader paternalism
    of what others thought to be in the best interests of Aboriginal people.
    The actual implementation of the decision was assessed primarily from
    the perspective of its impact on the interests of pastoralists. The
    exercise and enjoyment of the human rights of Indigenous Australians
    remained a sub-set of government policy and the vested interests of
    others.

    The story of Daguragu
    illustrates another factor which continues to exert a powerful influence
    over the relationship between Indigenous and non-Indigenous Australians.
    There is a direct connection between past events and the present. Justice
    today requires specific redress for the continuing effects of past discriminatory
    treatment.

    This is not merely
    a point about divergent historical perspectives: what has been the experience
    of Indigenous people and what has been the experience of other Australians.
    An account of Australian history to include fully the reality of Indigenous
    experience is essential to a common understanding of the Australian
    story. Yet the further point we need to absorb about the past and the
    present is much sharper and more tangible. Past events directly affect
    rights today.

    If, therefore,
    as a result of our decision substantial numbers of Aboriginals moved
    to settlements or missions ... the policy of assimilation and integration
    will be assisted.

    As anticipated,
    throughout the Northern Territory substantial numbers of unemployed
    Aboriginal workers, their families and entire communities were moved
    or turned off their traditional lands. This dislocation was only one
    episode in the historical dispossession of Indigenous Australians throughout
    the country. It was effected in a range of ways: sheer force; the removal
    of children from their families; the withdrawal of 'permissive occupancy'
    because titles to traditional lands had been granted to others and Aboriginal
    people no longer provided a useful pool of cheap labour; in many cases
    people were induced to move 'voluntarily' to settlements and missions
    simply to gain access to food and basic services as competing land use
    destroyed the resource base of traditional life.

    All these factors
    combined to dislocate, erode, and in many cases destroy, traditional
    connection to country. In consequence today, where native title has
    survived formal extinguishment, many Indigenous people will be unable
    to establish their rights through an inability to demonstrate their
    maintenance of connection with their land in accordance with traditional
    laws and customs. The assimilation policy was specifically intended
    to eradicate the observance of traditional laws and customs. Proof of
    these traditions is now required to establish native title. The amended
    Native Title Act 1993 expressly requires the demonstration of
    a current 'traditional physical connection' for the registration
    of a claim. Past laws, policies and practices have precise ramifications
    today.

    The historical
    denial of rights has continuing effects and past denial is compounded
    by the further, consequential deprivation of rights today. This compounding
    effect is more than bitter irony: it demands a just response, specific
    reparation and the maximum protection of Australia's residual native
    title estate.

    If we are to achieve
    a just and stable basis for the reconciliation of Indigenous and non-Indigenous
    Australians we must become conscious of how these patterns of the past
    influence and recur in contemporary circumstances. We must realign the
    values and dynamics which have so consistently distorted and damaged
    our relations.

    Some of the most
    severe abuses of the human rights of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander
    peoples are beyond any form of reparation other than the most sincere
    expression of sorrow and apology based on a frank acknowledgement of
    history. Equally there are concrete measures required by way of direct
    compensation and remedial action to relieve the contemporary effects
    of past discrimination.

    If the events surrounding
    Daguragu reveal issues which require resolution, then the circumstances
    in which a portion of Gurindji land was finally returned to the traditional
    owners provides us with an image of our potential for such resolution.

    On 16 August 1975
    Vincent Lingiari accepted the return of title to land belonging to the
    Gurindji people. Standing on their country in the Northern Territory,
    the then Prime Minister addressed the Gurindji:

    On this great
    day, I, Prime Minister of Australia, speak to you on behalf of the
    Australian people - all those who honour and love this land we live
    in.

    For them I want
    to say to you ...

    I want to acknowledge
    that we Australians still have much to do to redress the injustice
    and the oppression that has for so long been the lot of Black Australians
    ...

    Vincent Lingiari
    I solemnly hand to you these deeds as proof, in Australian law, that
    these lands belong to the Gurindji people and I put into your hands
    part of the earth itself as a sign that this land will be in the possession
    of you and your children forever. [6]

    With this the Prime
    Minister poured a handful of soil into Vincent Lingiari's hands.

    Vincent replied:
    'We are all mates now'.

    He then spoke to
    his people, recognising how 'important White men' had come to return
    their land and how in the future the Gurindji could live together with
    white fellas as friends and equals.

    They took our
    country away from us, now they have brought it back ceremonially.

    This was a time
    before the passage of the Racial Discrimination Act 1975, before
    the Aboriginal Land Rights (Northern Territory) Act 1976, and
    almost twenty years before the Mabo decision. Aboriginal people
    had no recognised right to land. The Gurindji had petitioned the Governor-General.
    The petition was refused. The return of their title was ultimately achieved
    by negotiation and agreement with direct Aboriginal participation. The
    Wave Hill pastoral lease was surrendered and the Commonwealth Government
    issued two fresh leases, one to the pastoral enterprise and the other
    to the traditional owners.

    Negotiation and
    agreement remains the most positive, direct and flexible approach to
    the re-alignment of competing interests.



    The words spoken by the Prime Minister acknowledged the past, recognised
    that there was: 'still much to do to redress the injustice and oppression
    that has for so long been the lot of Black Australians ...'
    . These
    words were accompanied by immediate action. The return of title was
    a tangible act of justice. It stood in earnest of a wider commitment
    to the future.

    In response to
    this commitment Vincent Lingiari spoke on behalf of the Gurindji. Considering
    the history of that country, the physical violence of the frontier period,
    the taking of Gurindji children from their community and the conditions
    of exploitation that sparked the walk off, there is a considerable grace
    and generosity in the acceptance of a future relationship founded on
    equality and friendship.

    The manner in which
    the land was returned held importance.

    They took our
    country away from us, now they have brought it back ceremonially.
    [7]

    The gesture of
    pouring the soil of the country into Vincent Lingiari's hands has a
    depth of symbolism which satisfies the common human need for ceremony
    to mark out significant events. The richness of Indigenous cultures
    in ceremonial activity is clear. The ceremonial components of Anglo-Australian
    culture are frequently overlooked, undervalued or regarded sceptically.
    In the specific circumstances of Australia it should be recalled that
    the claim of possession and the assertion of sovereign power over this
    land was done with the ceremonial raising of the British flag: a symbolic
    assertion of sovereign power. The subsequent dispossession of Indigenous
    people was effected through the exercise of that power.

    It is fitting that
    some ceremonial acknowledgement accompanied the return of title. Interestingly
    the pouring of the actual soil of the land has a resonance with an ancient
    common law ritual performed when title to land was received. The owner
    would be 'seized of possession' and would immediately exercise the right
    of ownership by breaking the branch of a tree growing on the land or
    by turning the soil.

    Within the cultures
    of Indigenous and non-Indigenous Australians common ceremonial gestures
    may be found or fresh symbols created. Without substance behind them,
    such things are sterile. But the burial of grievance and the birth of
    a new relationship require expression in a form which can lift us beyond
    immediate circumstances, to express our resolve and to give vision to
    our common future.

    Bringing Them Home

    The stories presented
    in Bringing Them Home, the Report of the National Inquiry into
    the Separation of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Children from
    their Families, introduced many Australians to the reality of assimilation
    policy. The underlying purpose of assimilation retains an appeal to
    some Australians. The reality of its practice, translated into human
    terms, is less attractive.

    The issues and
    general patterns which I have sought to draw from the events surrounding
    the Wave Hill Station walk-off and the eventual return of a portion
    of Gurindji land, have direct relevance to the removal of Indigenous
    children for their assimilation into the white Australian community.
    They are also relevant to our contemporary responses to this practice.

    The primary purpose
    of this Report is to present various responses to Bringing Them Home.
    This is not done to re-open the substance of the Inquiry, its findings
    or the basis of its recommendations.

    The objective is
    to record the diverse range of responses and the perspectives they illustrate.
    The publication of Bringing Them Home (the Report) had a marked
    impact on the Australian community. The ensuing public debate was sustained
    and intense. It stimulated the expression of views reflecting contemporary
    attitudes and values which directly and indirectly affect the circumstances
    of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples today.

    These views range
    over the past, the present and look to the future. Because of the deeply
    emotional and intimate nature of the subject matter of the Report, many
    people who may not often express their opinions publicly were moved
    to write to newspapers or find some other way of making their views
    known, frequently with a great deal of passion and candour. Politicians
    at all levels of government and commentators in all forms of the media
    made statements, published editorials and opinion pieces.

    These responses
    warrant some more permanent publication. Bringing Them Home was
    not limited to an examination of history, but it did examine a disturbing
    aspect of our past, and the responses to its findings have, in their
    own right, become part of the historical record of Australia.

    This report is
    divided into various chapters presenting the broad reactions of Indigenous
    people, non-Indigenous people and the Churches. These chapters do not
    pretend to be exhaustive or definitive, they sample and attempt to illustrate
    the wide variety of responses generated by Bringing Them Home.

    The essence of
    Bringing Them Home rests in the stories of Aboriginal and Torres
    Strait Islander people. It is their personal experience, dependent on
    a willingness to open the most intimate details of their childhood,
    which informed the Report in a way that historical records and abstract
    research could never do. Courage was required to participate in the
    Inquiry and the vulnerability entailed in the process certainly did
    not end there. The publication of Bringing Them Home brought
    their stories within the public arena. The range of reactions to the
    Report obviously had immediate implications for individual Indigenous
    people and their communities.

    As a non-Indigenous
    person temporarily acting in the role of Aboriginal and Torres Strait
    Islander Social Justice Commissioner, I considered it particularly important
    to ensure that the views of Indigenous people entered directly into
    this Report. Consultations conducted in different parts of the country
    provided some opportunity for this to occur. Chapter 1, The Aftermath
    for Indigenous People
    , is based on our consultations. I regret that
    resources severely limited the extent of our coverage and, as with other
    chapters, the perspectives presented are indicative than comprehensive.
    Naturally, various views were expressed. A substantial degree of comment
    was directed to the responses and comprehension of the wider community
    to experiences that are unique to Indigenous Australians.

    Chapter 2 Non-Indigenous
    Community Responses
    canvasses the diverse opinions expressed publicly
    in reaction to the Report's findings and the subsequent debate concerning
    the stolen generations. The Australian community's contemporary responsibility
    and the significance of apology are thematic in these responses.

    Christian Churches
    played a particular institutional role in the practice of removing Indigenous
    children. Chapter 3 Church Responses, records the apologies and
    statements made by different denominations, together with their further
    commitments to reconciliation with Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander
    peoples.

    The final chapter
    presents the responses of Australian governments to the recommendations
    of Bringing Them Home. It reports on action taken to implement
    those recommendations. Chapter 4 is the product of a specific Follow
    Up Project to the Inquiry. Its provenance and methodology are described
    in the chapter itself. This work was sponsored by the Stegley Foundation
    and the Australian Youth Foundation.

    The responses to
    the Report of the National Inquiry into the Separation of Aboriginal
    and Torres Strait Islander Children from Their Families deserve consideration,
    not merely as reflections on the past, but as indicators of the future.

    Reconciliation

    The wider objective
    of this introductory chapter is to consider the implications of the
    various responses for the reconciliation process. Genuine reconciliation
    between the Indigenous and non-Indigenous communities of Australia has
    deep potential to enhance the exercise and enjoyment of human rights
    by Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples. It has the further
    potential to give new outlook and energy to the entire nation.

    As we have seen,
    the story of the Wave Hill walk-off, the Equal Wage Case and the eventual
    return of Gurindji land illustrate issues and dynamics which perennially
    shape the relationship between Indigenous and non-Indigenous Australians.
    These factors shaped the laws, policies and practices of assimilation;
    they are present in the diverse responses to Bringing Them Home.
    They influence our potential for reconciliation. A consideration of
    reactions to the issues raised by the National Inquiry may assist us
    to understand what is necessary to achieve reconciliation, what impedes
    the process, and how these impediments may be overcome.

    It is useful to
    recall the perennial issues and dynamics.

    First, the experience
    of dispossession, exploitation and denial of rights has instilled a
    deep sense of grievance and injustice in Aboriginal and Torres Strait
    Islander peoples. There is an adamant determination to recover those
    rights.

    Second, when Indigenous
    rights are in fact recognised, the overarching framework of non-Indigenous
    values and interests constantly affects the understanding, application
    and enjoyment of those rights. There is a crucial interaction between
    these factors. The interpretation of Indigenous rights not only reflects,
    but reinforces, very different experiences, interests and expectations.
    The reaction to the Wik decision is a recent example of this tendency.
    Underlying the surface debate about rights, there is a collision of
    perspectives and values.

    Third, and instrumental
    to this lack of a shared perspective, historically the voices of Indigenous
    peoples have not been heard. They have not been called to give evidence
    in their own cause. Others continue to speak for them and decide what
    is in their best interests.

    The sharing of
    experiences and the convergence of perspectives is essential to renovate
    our relationship and to find a way to reconciliation. An essential part
    of achieving a common perspective is to simply listen to the experiences
    of Indigenous Australians expressed in their own words. A more substantial
    exchange is also required. Just as Gurindji land was ultimately returned
    through direct negotiation, equally the participation of Indigenous
    Australians must be central to a process of reconciliation based on
    negotiation.

    Reconciliation
    must be grounded on agreement if it is to have any credibility or stability.
    The convergence of Indigenous and non-Indigenous perspectives is essential
    to the process of reconciling our understanding of history and our aspirations
    for the future. Yet that is insufficient by itself. There must also
    be a negotiation process to reconcile and realign our interests and
    rights. If reconciliation is to be achieved it must ultimately rest
    on a tangible foundation of justice.



    The responses to Bringing Them Home raise all these issues. They
    illustrate the collision of different perspectives. They also provide
    a functional model as to how Indigenous and non-Indigenous interests
    may be brought into closer relationship.

    The experience
    of the removal of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander children from
    their families has fuelled a powerful drive to make the suffering which
    separations caused known to the community in whose name it was done.
    Awareness of the depth of anguish and harm, particularly the present
    repercussions of that damage, has not previously penetrated the non-Indigenous
    community. The telling of the stories of separation broke a silence.
    Perhaps the most powerful and consistent strain of Indigenous response
    to Bringing Them Home relates to the need for a thorough absorption
    of the stories, leading to acknowledgement and apology for the wrongs
    which were done. This is not the pursuit of guilt. It is the pursuit
    of understanding and recognition.

    The absence of
    a formal apology by the Prime Minister on behalf of the Australian Government
    was a critical matter consistently identified by Indigenous people in
    the course of our consultations. The denial of such an apology is regarded
    as compounding the hurt and it deepens the divide between our communities.
    The human quality of being able to extend yourself imaginatively into
    the suffering of another people and the moral quality of accepting institutional
    responsibility were matters which drew an intense Indigenous reaction.
    The human, moral and symbolic qualities of a national apology were seen
    to be essential to any adequate response to Bringing Them Home
    and to any prospect of reconciliation.

    While such an apology
    seems increasingly to be considered necessary by the broader Australian
    community, this gesture by itself would be insufficient: tangible responses
    are required. These are not confined to the provision of services to
    assist in the tracing of relatives, the reunion of families, oral history
    programs, health and counselling services, the amendment of welfare
    and juvenile justice law, policy and practice: the issue of compensation
    remains a live issue. Compensation is not confined to personal loss
    and harm caused by removal. It includes the further flow-on effects
    of dispossession and the loss of rights to land.

    The Indigenous
    perception of the inadequacy of government responses to recommendations
    on these matters is met, not merely with disappointment and a sense
    of exclusion from government processes, it confirms an expectation that
    this would be so. There is a strain of Indigenous response which reveals
    the cumulative effect of paternalistic policies and the lack of participation
    in government processes: of constantly being the subject of other people's
    decisions about what is best for you, what you deserve, what you are
    entitled to. There is a widespread sense of powerlessness and distrust
    of governments and the interests they serve. Whether it is equal pay
    for stockmen, native title or the rights of those removed, the interests
    of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people seem to remain a subordinate
    consideration, apparently accommodated as a matter of political calculation,
    rather than on the basis of principle and respect for human rights.

    There is also a
    deep scepticism expressed by Indigenous people concerning the ability
    of the Commonwealth Government to comprehend the past and present experience
    of Aboriginal people and Torres Strait Islanders. There is a consequential
    reluctance to yield genuine responsibility and control to Indigenous
    communities. While Government policy advocates notions of 'self-management'
    and 'self-empowerment' these catchcries are advocated in
    substitution for Australia's recognition of the right to self determination
    in the Draft Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples.
    Advocacy of empowerment becomes a means to disempower.

    The Indigenous
    sense of injustice is so deeply inscribed that it forms an expectation
    of injustice. Now reconciliation is urged. The suspicion as to what
    motivates this, and who will be the ultimate beneficiaries, should not
    be difficult to understand. Among many of the stolen generations there
    is a distrust and pain which in some people may never be assuaged.

    The experience
    of telling their story to the Inquiry was a positive and cathartic process
    for some who gave evidence. The recounting and official recording
    of individual experiences gave a certain degree of recognition. The
    word 'validation' was frequently mentioned in our consultations
    with Indigenous people. Occasionally this word seemed to express the
    relief of telling a personal history and discharging a sense of guilt
    about what had happened. As though in some way, as a child, the individual
    was responsible for their removal, akin to the sense of responsibility
    and guilt that some children may experience when their parents separate
    or divorce. The psychological damage caused by the removal of Indigenous
    children was both gross and extremely subtle. The recognition that individual
    removals were truly the implementation of general assimilation policies,
    based on factors totally beyond the control or responsibility of the
    children or their families, cast individual experiences into a new light.
    In this context the idea that Indigenous people told their stories in
    some endeavour to inflict a sense of guilt on non-Indigenous people
    becomes distinctly ironic.

    For a number of
    people who participated in the Inquiry the process was not cathartic.
    It opened wounds and left them despondent. There is criticism of the
    Human Rights and Equal Opportunity Commission for the inadequacy of
    counselling support for witnesses during the Inquiry.

    The telling of
    the stories of removal is commonly viewed as somehow exclusively directed
    at the non-Indigenous community but, beyond the impact on the individuals
    who gave evidence, there were many other effects within Indigenous communities
    and families. In some cases the stories triggered reunions, informed
    younger generations of their parents' and grandparents' earlier lives,
    expanding understanding in learning of the precise experience of their
    relatives and in appreciating the cumulative effects on their communities.
    Those who were removed, and had an individual, personal experience of
    separation, encountered a wider range of experiences and the different
    ways in which children were treated in different institutions. The systemic
    patterns of removal policies were revealed.

    Finding and reuniting
    with lost relatives, whose lives have taken vastly different courses,
    can be fraught. It can create intense problems regarding identity and
    acceptance. The full range of possibilities presented by reunion after
    long separation was experienced by individuals, families and communities.
    The effects of laws, policies and practices of separation have generated
    many issues for reconciliation between Indigenous and non-Indigenous
    people, but there are also issues for reconciliation among Indigenous
    people themselves.

    In balance with
    these difficult and complex responses within Aboriginal and Torres Strait
    Islander communities there is a powerful and positive sense that a significant
    number of Australians have now heard of the stolen generations and know
    at least something of their experiences. This knowledge has aroused
    a range of reactions in the wider community. Some people remain uncomfortable
    with the expression 'stolen generations'. They regard it as unduly emotive,
    but its entry into the language of public debate marks an inescapable
    engagement with a part of our history that was previously hidden from
    general view. The issues that flow from the forcible removal of Aboriginal
    and Torres Strait Islander children have been raised ineluctably. They
    demand consideration and response. Whatever the response, the issues
    can no longer be ignored. In this fact alone there is a modest convergence
    of Indigenous and non-Indigenous perspectives.

    More substantially,
    the stories of children, mothers, fathers, aunts, uncles, brothers,
    sisters and grandparents were truly heard by many Australians. They
    extended themselves imaginatively into the position of parents whose
    children were taken from them, through no fault of their own, but because
    of who they were and the fact that some remote source of power had generally
    decided that their children would be better off without them. This primary
    sense of identification with the human quality of Indigenous experience
    transcended race, ethnic background, culture, politics and arguments
    about legal rights. While such responses were primarily emotional, many
    people went on to grapple with the issues lying beyond their instinctive
    reactions.

    Confrontation with
    the harm done to Indigenous Australians in the past, which was firmly
    based on the benign certainty of knowing what was best for Aboriginal
    and Torres Strait Islander peoples, led many Australians to a more thoughtful
    consideration of contemporary matters. It challenged a view, still commonly
    held, that Indigenous Australians should ultimately reconcile themselves
    to cultural absorption within the wider Australian society. For a great
    many people it was their first introduction to the history of government
    policies and de facto practices implemented over a long period of time
    to assimilate Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples.

    The realisation
    that it was necessary to rule a line under the past by apology became
    indistinguishable from wider national support for reconciliation and
    for the recognition and protection of contemporary rights, advocated
    by such groups as ANTaR: Australians for Native Title and Reconciliation.
    In this way the first Sorry Day was observed: not only as a moment of
    silence and respect for the anguish of the past, but as the marking
    of a new relationship for the future.

    Yet, if there was
    one pronounced strain of non-Indigenous reaction to Bringing Them
    Home
    resulting in a shift in awareness, then it is equally clear
    that there were many other more critical responses shaped by the enduring
    divide between Indigenous and non-Indigenous perspectives.

    The Prime Minister
    expressed his personal sense of sorrow for the experiences of Indigenous
    people, but he did not consider it appropriate to offer a national apology.
    He was by no means isolated in this view, or in declining to accept
    any responsibility for events of the past. The elapse of time; the belief
    that separation policies were fundamentally well-intentioned; the perceived
    anachronism of judging past events by today's standards; and the lack
    of immediate personal involvement were all seen to exonerate both the
    present generation of non-Indigenous Australians and current Australian
    governments. The methodology and balance of the Inquiry and its Report
    were challenged. Raking over the past was seen as unhealthy and unhelpful.
    Revisiting the past was perceived as a device to generate guilt, to
    be used in an attempt to prise out compensation monies and other advantages.

    While it was considered
    acceptable to express personal sorrow and to sympathise with Aboriginal
    and Torres Strait Islander people for their evident pain, such responses
    were basically premised on a denial that Australia's Indigenous peoples
    were wronged in any way which gives rise to contemporary liability,
    either moral or legal.

    In my view these
    criticisms, the absence of a formal, national apology and the repudiation
    of institutional responsibility are misconceived. However, as I have
    already said, it is not my intention to revisit the Inquiry or to argue
    its findings and recommendations. It is my purpose to consider a range
    of responses to Bringing Them Home and how they reflect on our
    potential to achieve a genuine reconciliation between the Indigenous
    and non-Indigenous people. The volume of critical reaction is fully
    acknowledged, it includes a spectrum of attitudes held sincerely by
    many people who do not intend to diminish the pain experienced by Aboriginal
    and Torres Strait Islander people.

    If we cannot allow
    the sincerity of competing views, no matter how much we disagree with
    them, then we have very little prospect of constructive engagement.
    I have little doubt that many Australians were deeply disturbed by the
    histories of abuse and the damage done to so many lives, so counterproductive
    to our collective interests and to the view of our society as staunch
    in its foundation on the values of fairness, decency and respect for
    the human rights of all its members.

    It is in this light
    that I suggest that the more critical responses to Bringing Them
    Home
    be considered. It is our responsibility to step outside our
    narrow personal construction of the world and endeavour to understand
    the perspective of others. Unfortunately, in my opinion, the inability
    to do precisely this is what characterises so many of the more negative
    responses. They remain enmeshed in a view that is formed by values and
    interests set within a non-Indigenous perspective. The experiences and
    the rights of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people are judged
    primarily by their potential impact on the self-interest of others.
    In a curious way, as has been the constant dynamic of our history, what
    is seen to be a fair and appropriate response, what is seen to be ultimately
    in the 'best interests' of Indigenous people remains, in reality, what
    is in the best interests of non-Indigenous Australians.

    Apart from the
    obvious issue of compensation, this attitude is perhaps most clearly
    demonstrated by those who generally regard the 'raking over' of the
    past as unhealthy and backward looking: that it will do Aboriginal and
    Torres Strait Islander people no good; they should get ahead and concentrate
    on the many pressing problems of today. In whose interests is it to
    pass discretely over the history of the forcible removal of Indigenous
    children? How much entry into the position of Aboriginal and Torres
    Strait Islander people is there in negating the deeply felt need to
    mark the loss within their communities, and for other Australians to
    stand with them on a day of remembrance? The criticism of Sorry Day
    as an unduly emotive and sterile exercise is strange in a country which
    rightly honours the defeats and sorrows of the past in other contexts.

    There is another
    flashpoint which breaks open sharply divergent and antagonist perspectives.
    It is the finding that the forcible removal of Indigenous children constituted
    genocide. The very idea that assimilation is in anyway equated with
    genocide evokes the strongest non-Indigenous reaction. Whether or not
    the finding is legally correct is beside the point in exploring the
    gap between Indigenous and non-Indigenous responses and how these responses
    may be drawn into a closer, reconciled relationship.

    To most people,
    genocide is equated only with the deliberate physical extermination
    of a people. Given the removal of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander
    children was primarily based on a benign intention to advance their
    interests, to call this genocide seems unreasonable and unjust. It demonstrates
    an irrational, highly emotive reading of events which erodes the credibility
    of the Indigenous position and reduces any willingness to acknowledge
    less contentious matters. It produces anger and denial.

    From the Indigenous
    perspective, expressions of personal sorrow without any acceptance of
    responsibility are regarded, at best, as dismissive when contrasted
    with an experience which not only traumatised individuals, but intentionally
    threatened the integrity of Indigenous culture and the survival of Aboriginal
    and Torres Strait Islander peoples as distinct peoples. It is incomprehensible,
    in the face of a protracted nation-wide effort to remove their children,
    that the suffering could have been ignored, and that so few people spoke
    out against it. Given the policies of removal were squarely based on
    race, with a dominant white society taking and absorbing their children,
    the term genocide is regarded as perfectly apt. It justifies the need
    for the present representatives of that same society to acknowledge
    the wrong, to make a formal national apology and provide reparation.
    The failure to do so seems unreasonable and unjust. It evokes anger
    and a denial that anything has really changed.

    Perhaps the recognition
    of how the term genocide generates common emotions provides us with
    a way to enter into the viewpoint of the other. It is ineffectual to
    ignore or dismiss either the Indigenous or non-Indigenous sense of unreasonableness
    or injustice. Both are powerfully felt, and we cannot make any progress
    locked into positions of anger and denial. This is not to undercut the
    objective basis on which a just reconciliation must rest, but it does
    offer the potential to arrive at a fresh perspective and understanding.

    The term genocide
    evokes such strong reactions because there is a shared repugnance for
    the abuse of human rights that it describes. This can be recast into
    the positive: an affirmation of a shared respect for human rights. With
    such a starting point for reconciliation we can address substantive,
    practical issues. Reconciliation must look to the comparative position
    between Indigenous and non-Indigenous Australians. It must embrace the
    primary issues of sustenance: health, housing, education and employment.
    It is not merely an accident of language that the appalling infant mortality
    and peri-natal morbidity rates for Indigenous infants results in vastly
    disproportionate 'hospital separations' today, and that the juvenile
    justice systems of Australia continue to separate Indigenous children
    from their families at rates well beyond those for other Australian
    children. These are the embedded legacies of history, compounded by
    contemporary practices. These chronic disparities are tangible impediments
    to reconciliation.

    The renovation
    of our future relationship, based on respect for human rights, must
    also address another primary, practical issue: the honourable burial
    of grievance. The making of peace with the past. Care for the human
    spirit is a profoundly practical concern.

    The stories of
    Bringing Them Home not only tell of the experiences of children
    and their families at the time of separation. They reveal, in the most
    trenchant way, the aftermath of pain, anger and distrust which continues
    within Indigenous communities. The aftermath not only affects the view
    looking out to the surrounding non-Indigenous society, it affects the
    functioning and well being within Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander
    communities. At a certain level it does not matter whether the issue
    is rendered in terms of 'responsibility', 'self empowerment', 'self
    management' or 'the right to self determination'. It is about the carriage
    of trauma, the ability to function in the present, the power of decision-making,
    regard for the broader Australian community and the expectation of how
    we will get along in the future. How much honesty is there in examining
    the past? How much trust does this give for the future?

    Many Australians
    know this. It is not a matter of guilt or admission of liability. It
    is an extension of understanding for the hurt that has been endured
    and respect for certain losses that can never be recovered. It is a
    response that does not diminish our country, but will demonstrate our
    contemporary national values. It is not about a rearguard action for
    the past. The respectful marking of grief and past wrongs entails some
    judgement of our past: but it speaks more clearly about who we are now
    and our resolve for the future.

    Just as the return
    of Gurindji land was done in a manner distinctive of our country and
    its history, so the formal and symbolic acts of reconciliation will
    be found within Australia. It is necessary that our resolution is freely
    negotiated to reflect our temper, our values and our place. But it is
    also useful to consider the approach of another Commonwealth country
    that has recently grappled with the same issues, flowing from a similar
    history. Canada has clearly determined to face its history. In the response
    of the Canadian Government, spoken on behalf of its citizens, I find
    no sense of diminishment, quite the contrary. It is clearly a springboard
    to a creative and productive future.

    As Aboriginal
    and non-Aboriginal Canadians seek to move forward together in a process
    of renewal, it is essential that we deal with the legacies of the
    past affecting the Aboriginal peoples of Canada, including the First
    Nations, Inuit and Métis. Our purpose is not to rewrite history
    but, rather, to learn from our past and to find ways to deal with
    the negative impacts that certain historical decisions continue to
    have in our society today.

    The ancestors
    of First Nations, Inuit and Métis peoples lived on this continent
    long before explorers from other continents first came to North America.
    For thousands of years before this country was founded, they enjoyed
    their own forms of government. Diverse, vibrant Aboriginal nations
    had ways of life rooted in fundamental values concerning their relationships
    to the Creator, the environment and each other, in the role of Elders
    as the living memory of their ancestors, and in their responsibilities
    as custodians of the lands, waters and resources of their homelands.

    The assistance
    and spiritual values of the Aboriginal peoples who welcomed the newcomers
    to this continent too often have been forgotten. The contributions
    made by all Aboriginal peoples to Canada's development, and the contributions
    that they continue to make to our society today, have not been properly
    acknowledged. The Government of Canada today, on behalf of all Canadians,
    acknowledges those contributions.

    Sadly, our history
    with respect to the treatment of Aboriginal people is not something
    in which we can take pride. Attitudes of racial and cultural superiority
    led to a suppression of Aboriginal culture and values. As a country,
    we are burdened by past actions that resulted in weakening the identity
    of Aboriginal peoples, suppressing their languages and cultures, and
    outlawing spiritual practices. We must recognise the impact of these
    actions on the once self-sustaining nations that were disaggregated,
    disrupted, limited or even destroyed by the dispossession of traditional
    territory, by the relocation of Aboriginal people, and by some provisions
    of the Indian Act. We must acknowledge that the result of these actions
    was the erosion of the political, economic and social systems of Aboriginal
    people and nations.

    Against the backdrop
    of these historical legacies, it is a remarkable tribute to the strength
    and endurance of Aboriginal people that they have maintained their
    historic diversity and identity. The Government of Canada today formally
    expresses to all Aboriginal people in Canada our profound regret for
    past actions of the federal government which have contributed to these
    difficult pages in the history of our relationship together.

    One aspect of
    our relationship with Aboriginal people over this period that requires
    particular attention is the Residential School system. This system
    separated many children from their families and communities and prevented
    them from speaking their own languages and from learning about their
    heritage and cultures. In the worst cases, it left legacies of personal
    pain and distress that continue to reverberate in Aboriginal communities
    to this day. Tragically, some children were the victims of physical
    and sexual abuse.

    The Government
    of Canada acknowledges the role it played in the development and administration
    of these schools. Particularly to those individuals who experienced
    the tragedy of sexual and physical abuse at residential schools, and
    who have carried this burden believing that in some way they must
    be responsible, we wish to emphasise that what you experienced was
    not your fault and should never have happened. To those of you who
    suffered this tragedy at residential schools, we are deeply sorry.

    In dealing with
    the legacies of the Residential School system, the Government of Canada
    proposes to work with First Nations, Inuit and Métis people,
    the Churches and other interested parties to resolve the longstanding
    issues that must be addressed. We need to work together on a healing
    strategy to assist individuals and communities in dealing with the
    consequences of this sad era of our history…

    Reconciliation
    is an ongoing process. In renewing our partnership, we must ensure
    that the mistakes which marked our past relationship are not repeated.
    The Government of Canada recognises that policies that sought to assimilate
    Aboriginal people, women and men, were not the way to build a strong
    country. We must instead continue to find ways in which Aboriginal
    people can participate fully in the economic, political, cultural
    and social life of Canada in a manner which preserves and enhances
    the collective identities of Aboriginal communities, and allows them
    to evolve and flourish in the future. Working together to achieve
    our shared goals will benefit all Canadians, Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal
    alike. [8]


    1.
    MacDonald, R., Between Two Worlds: The Commonwealth Government and
    the removal of children of part descent in the Northern Territory
    ,
    IAD Press, 1995, p. 55.

    2.
    Report of the Aboriginal Land Commissioner (Toohey J.) on the Land Claim
    to Daguragu Station, November 1981, par 31.

    3.
    (1966) 113 C.A.R. 651 at 663.

    4.
    Ibid at 668.

    5.
    Ibid at 669.

    6.
    Whitlam, G., The Whitlam Government 1972-1975, Viking Press,
    1985, p. 471.

    7.
    Vincent Lingiari, quoted by Deane, Sir William, 'Some Sign Posts from
    Daguragu', The Inaugural Vincent Lingiari Lecture, in Public Law
    Review
    , Vol 8 No 1, March 1997, p. 20.

    8.
    Statement of Reconciliation by Canadian Government, spoken by
    the Honourable Jan Stewart, Minister of Indian Affairs and Northern
    Development on the occasion of launching Gathering Strength - Canada's
    Aboriginal Action Plan
    , 7 January 1998, Ottawa, Ontario.

    3
    April 2003.