Radical Heart

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by Shireen Morris


  Conclusion: Towards a Fairer Australia

  PART OF THE lesson of this story is that the Australian people must ask more of our political leaders. We must demand that they stick to their principles and behave with honour. We must demand that they speak the truth, treat the First Nations with respect, and act in the national interest—rather than just their own interests. Otherwise, how will Australia ever move forward?

  There remains an extraordinary political opportunity to achieve the vision set out in the Uluru Statement from the Heart, if only we have the moral courage to demand it. I urge Australians not to be missing in action. Do not cherry-pick the Indigenous dissenters. Do not second-guess the Uluru Statement. Do not play divide and conquer. Stand in solidarity with Indigenous people.

  We must not squander this historic opportunity because of our own complacency. We must not sit back and watch as the politicians kick this can down the road in favour of constitutional reform for a republic, constitutional reform to give themselves longer terms in power, or constitutional reform to water down their accountabilities under section 44 citizenship requirements.

  Non-Indigenous Australians must now insist the government act to guarantee the First Nations of Australia a voice in their affairs. Indigenous people have done the hard work to achieve a consensus. Now the rest of us must back them. This is what I have learned as an Indian-Australian woman striving to work in solidarity with Indigenous people to help achieve the justice they seek, and that we all seek.

  It is not up to Indigenous people to achieve this alone. We all bear a responsibility. We cannot be shy or lethargic in our advocacy, or be stymied by the political correctness that says only Indigenous people can advocate for Indigenous justice. That is a cop-out. Non-Indigenous Australians owe it to our Indigenous compatriots to advocate alongside them for change. All Australians carry a duty to create a better country.

  I do not believe this reform is beyond us as a nation. Until we resolve it, we will never know peace.

  Every year, as 26 January approaches, the pressure for national justice grows greater—2018 was no different.

  I think about the Crown’s unfulfilled instructions when Australia Day rolls around. 26 January commemorates an unrealised good intention—a broken promise. Weirdly, we expect all Australians to celebrate what was in many ways the opening of a national wound, rather the healing of it. No wonder there is division: our nation has not yet done the necessary work to make right the wrongs of the past.

  Turnbull, with his head in the sand, pretends the day unites Australians—though it clearly doesn’t.1 Alan Tudge inanely recites the three parts of Australia—the Indigenous, the British and the multicultural—and pretends each is already equally celebrated: they’re not. ‘On Australia Day we increasingly recognise Indigenous people through the awarding of the Australian of the Year award to Indigenous people,’ he says, bizarrely.2 In other words: let’s appease our national guilt by handing out awards to Indigenous people while also denying them a voice—an argument for tokenism: dumb and disrespectful, even for Tudge.

  I am not yet persuaded that changing the date fixes the problem. My concern is that changing the date is largely symbolic and lets us off the hook too easily. I agree with Indigenous activist Tony Birch, who argues that changing the date:

  … suggests that the offence being caused by current Australia Day celebrations can be reduced to the narrowness of the date in question—January 26. The logic of such an argument would suggest that if we were to return to July 15, or March 29 even (my birthday), the history of violence towards Indigenous people would become less offensive? Or forgotten perhaps? …

  Such is the rhetoric of symbolic gestures in settler-colonial societies incapable of countenancing either the relinquishment of power, or the contemplation of genuine remorse …

  If the young are our future, and I sincerely hope that they are, their pathway will be forged in action and a call for self-determination rather than hollow symbolism and a patronising call to display patience.3

  Birch calls for substantive justice over symbolic date changes. I tend to agree.

  I have come to the view that Australia Day tensions will persist, and should persist, until our nation comes to terms with the wrongs of the past and resolves them through formal reconciliation—and by that I mean substantive reform, not mere symbolism.

  Rather than changing the date, why not transform and redeem it? Reform the Constitution. Sign the Makarrata. Unify the nation.

  With a bit of vision, 26 January could be the date we belatedly include a First Nations voice in the Constitution and establish the Makarrata Commission, as the Uluru Statement from the Heart requests. And bring together the three parts of our nation through a legislated Declaration enacted by all Australian parliaments, as the Referendum Council recommends.

  If we did these things on 26 January, the date would become a solemn day of historical reconciliation. A day of healing, resolution and inclusion. This to me seems the radical centre solution. It would not repudiate our British heritage, which is the only thing currently commemorated by 26 January. Rather, it would formally embrace our ancient Indigenous heritage and right the wrongs of the past.

  Of course, achieving such reforms, whether on 26 January or any other date, requires morally courageous political leadership. It requires political leaders willing to lead for the national good, rather than dog-whistling to try to win votes. We will need a new government, a new prime minister, and a younger, brighter, better generation to rise to the fore.

  In the meantime, why not keep the productive tension 26 January creates, and use this to propel change? Change to redeem the date and make good, finally, on the Crown’s secret instructions. Let us do that which should have been done in 1788 and in 1901: declare our shared country, guarantee the First Nations voice in our constitutional compact, and sign the treaty that will unite us as one Australia.

  It was December 2017, post Uluru Statement rejection. A few days before New Year’s Eve.

  We had arrived in the picturesque Sunshine Coast hinterland to deliver talks at the Woodford Folk Festival. It was my third or so stint at Woodford with Noel, organised by Jimi Bostock, who has longstanding rock music and hippy festival roots—one of his many quirks. On these trips, I’d listen to him and Noel rant about rock bands, old country stars and the best pop artists (weirdly, Noel is a Taylor Swift fan). Though I’d been a singer in funk and soul bands, jazz duos and original outfits, my repertoire was impoverished, and Noel’s music knowledge was an education. Our jamming—him on acoustic guitar, both of us on vocals, and Jimi on bongos or whatever he could find—was a way to unwind from political combat. We’d sit around on the grass near our tents, watching the fading Queensland light, churning out tunes and laughing.

  I was grateful for these moments of fun and friendship: like spirits, enjoying simple pleasures. ‘The three amigos—I should take a photo!’ joked Tracey, Noel’s partner, flanked by their three spirited children when she saw us coming up the dusty Woodford track.

  The music breaks were short and our minds would quickly turn back to the problem: the Constitution and how we might change it. The politics. The players. The correct policy. We were obsessed. It didn’t matter if it was 7 a.m. on Saturday or 10 p.m. on Friday, if it was Boxing Day or New Year’s Eve—the last three we’d spent at Woodford, talking, planning and advocating constitutional recognition, counting down to midnight on the vast hill overlooking the biggest stage, Noel’s kids in tow. We’d sit under the tree commemorating Lew Griffiths, whose steadfast friendship Noel, Tracey and Jimi have never forgotten.

  I both begrudged and loved the 24-hour nature of it. It was professional and personal and had become my life, as it had Noel’s. I begrudged and loved Woodford too, which was smack bang in the middle of the Christmas break, when the office was closed and everyone else was relaxing—but I had to hang out with these blokes, thinking about politics and strategy.

  Brain-addled and exhausted, we
’d trawl the fried-food stands, laugh at our failures and concoct future wins. I’d sweat out the year’s stresses in the steamy green room, crammed with perspiring musos and hipsters, their dreadlocks splayed out like tentacles on cushions. I’d sprawl under a fan, wishing for winter, the persistent waft of marijuana attacking my faculties from every direction—Woodford’s staple aroma, discernible 500 metres outside the front gate. Then we’d give our talks on constitutional reform, Noel always to a standing ovation. That progressive Woodford crowd could never get enough of him—he’d be stuck for hours chatting. Thinking back, he was probably more progressive than me, at least on some things. The Woodford audience knew it: deep down he was one of them.

  This festival, I was to give a keynote speech—my first hour-long proper lecture. I was vaguely nervous, but confident: I’d been doing this for seven years now. As I climbed on stage at the Songlines tent, the sparse audience was immediately depressing. I’d flown all the way up from Melbourne that morning, plus a two-hour bus ride. Sweaty and frizzy, I must have looked tragic in the largely empty marquee with just some old white hippies, a smattering of politically engaged music lovers, and some nonchalant Indigenous Australians in the elders’ tent to the side. Outside the marquee, the festival rolled on. People cavorted, danced and drank; gigantic puppets roamed like ghoulish revellers from an ethereal realm; and scantily clad face-sparkled women chatted about free love, making haloes of smoke around their beaming smiles—much to Jimi’s frustrated, middle-aged delight. It was Woodford at Christmastime. People were there to party, pick up and see cool bands. No one wanted to listen to a sweaty Indian chick talk about the Australian Constitution. Especially not after Noel had already stolen the show two days prior.

  I spotted Noel and Jimi up the back in the audience and immediately pepped up. As I spoke, more people milled in, sat and started nodding. I fired up, and there were several bursts of spontaneous applause. I was making the case for a First Nations voice in the Constitution and exposing Turnbull’s dishonest rejection of the Uluru Statement from the Heart. Occasionally I looked up the back to see Noel’s reactions, half-expecting him to be poking out his eye in boredom like in the old days. But his face was alert and engaged. It was the look not just of a proud mentor: he was interested in what I was going to say, and how I was going to say it. The look of a colleague and ally, not just a boss.

  The speech was well received. I gave it splashes of poetic prose together with chatty asides of simple explanation. People laughed at my few jokes. This was how I liked to persuade: with energy and variety, eye contact and direct connection. And over-gesticulation, my friends complained. I couldn’t help it—I was too fundamentally theatrical. Plus, I wanted to be different from the usual dry media appearances and lectures, so why not spice it up with some energetic body language, as was my style? (That Woodford, Jimi got a picture of me doing what looked like a ‘Heil Hitler’—so I decided to watch out for that particular pose.) Some Aboriginal women gave me a small painting afterwards and said a heartfelt thank-you. Some police liaison officers wanted a picture. Australian singer Lior commended my passion, and I got starstruck. Others told me to keep doing what I was doing. I was humbled by the feedback, which made the diversion from holidays seem worthwhile.

  Afterwards, Noel and I were driving down the Sunshine Coast, discussing what job I should do next. He argued that I should use my persuasive skills for the public good and go into politics. ‘That speech today: no one can do that. You’re a better persuader than me, Shireen,’ he said overgenerously. It wasn’t true, but I was flattered. ‘And that’s saying something, because I’m fucking good!’ We laughed, but I noted the seriousness of his challenge. If I had this skill, how was I going to use it?

  Noel was the greatest orator I’d heard, and a true leader—courageous to his own detriment. The kind of principled, passionate, audacious thinker I hoped I could be: a leader unafraid to stand up to those in power. I thought back on our work together and felt proud of our persistence and teamwork. Despite our many losses, we’d had remarkable wins.

  I have learned many things over these seven years.

  I’ve learned that performance and persuasion are powerful tools: a combination of rational argument, empathy and theatrical finesse. Forging common ground to bridge that which divides us—this is where my heart lies. I’ve learned that progressives and conservatives don’t always behave as you’d expect. I’ve learned that people change their minds over time, and this is to be respected. I’ve learned that Australians are fair-minded and intelligent and can be persuaded to come on board with just reform.

  And I’ve learned that I am as Australian as anyone. If there was a time when I felt like an outsider in my own country, I don’t feel it anymore. Australia has a black history and a multicultural present and future. I, like all Australians, must take responsibility for that shared future to help make our great country even greater, for all Australians.

  I didn’t respond to Noel’s question, but it rattles in my brain.

  I quietly resolved to use my skills for the national good and in defence of our nation’s most vulnerable and disempowered. Noel and so many other advocates, friends and allies will continue the fight for meaningful reconciliation and recognition, and I will fight beside them.

  We won’t give up. We will keep fighting for a fairer Australia.

  Acknowledgements

  I’m grateful to Louise Adler, Sally Heath, Louise Stirling and the wonderful team of editors, copy editors and publicists at Melbourne University Press who supported me in writing this book. Your enthusiasm for this cause and your faith in my work are hugely appreciated. Thanks to Shelley Kenigsberg for her editing assistance on early chapters.

  I thank my parents, Drs Shastra and Naren Morris, my brother Nishant, and my cousin, Shamma Clarke, for reading drafts and helping me fact-check. Mum and dad—thanks for chasing up that missing 1%—your pushing has paid off. Thanks, too, to Bud (my aunty Sarita Naidu) for coming to my passionate defence when the family politics got too hard—you are awesome. Family—you are always so supportive and excited about my endeavours—nobody could ask for more.

  Thanks to friends Dariush Etemad, Michael Drake, Jason Cheng, Natalie Mandel and Andrew Ball, and all your partners, for always being interested in my work. Thanks Zoe Ellerman for encouraging, Dani Toon for listening, and Jimi Bostock for reading and re-reading drafts—Cape York Institute has been a wonderful place to work and learn.

  Thank you to the many Indigenous leaders and young people who won’t ever stop fighting for justice: Rachel Perkins, Marcia Langton, Megan Davis, Pat Anderson, Jill Gallagher, Thomas Mayor, Stan Grant, June Oscar, Sean Gordon, Nolan Hunter, Fiona Jose, Harold Ludwick, Geoff Scott, Teela Reid, Geoffrey Winters, Adam Bray, Nigel Craig … and so many others (too many to list!).

  Thanks to Damien Freeman for your camaraderie, creativity and dedicated collaboration. You and the team at Uphold & Recognise continue to do excellent work for this cause.

  And most of all thank you, Noel—for your leadership, guidance, encouragement, your wisdom and friendship. Like with so many things, it was your idea for me to write this book.

  Notes

  Introduction: Seven Years

  1 Simon Benson, ‘Bill Shorten raising Voice a winner with voters: Newspoll’, The Australian, 20 February 2018.

  Chapter 1: Where I Come From

  1 Jason Burke, ‘“Racist” Gandhi statue banished from Ghana university campus’, The Guardian Australia, 7 October 2016.

  2 Graham Davis, ‘Despot for diversity’, news.com.au, 6 October 2009.

  3 Statement by Commodore Josaia Voreqe Bainimarama, Prime Minister of the Republic of the Fiji Islands, 62nd Session of the UN General Assembly, 28 September 2007.

  4 Graham Davis, op. cit.

  5 Johann Gottfried Herder, ‘Shakespeare’, 1773.

  Chapter 2: Discovering Cape York

  1 Kenny Bedford and Josephine Bourne, ‘Constitutional recognition must do more for T
orres Strait Islanders’, The Australian, 8 May 2017.

  2 Noel Pearson, ‘Mabo legacy is still misunderstood’, The Australian, 2 June 2007.

  3 Fiona Jose, ‘Smallbone Report: past wrongs to blame for Aurukun crisis’, The Courier-Mail, 18 March 2016.

  4 Director of Aboriginal and Islander Advancement v Peinkinna (1978) 17 ALR 129, 52 ALJR 286 (PC): 183.

  5 R v KU; Ex Parte Attorney-General [2008] QCA 154.

  6 Tony Koch and Padraic Murphy, ‘Child rape sentence “pathetic”’, The Australian, 10 December 2007.

  7 Marcia Langton, ‘Trapped in the Aboriginal reality show’, Griffith Review 19, 2008.

  8 Ibid.

  9 ‘Pearson discusses alleged Cape York abuse cover-up’, AM, ABC, 14 December 2007.

  10 ‘Alcohol bans discriminatory: Newman’, Brisbane Times, 6 February 2013.

  11 Geoff Chambers, ‘Police failure to halt Aurukun brawl shows “cultural sensitivity”’, The Australian, 18 May 2016.

  Chapter 3: The Expert Panel

  1 Shireen Morris, ‘No Australian should feel like a stranger in their own country’, Sydney Morning Herald, 26 January 2016.

  2 Galarrwuy Yunupingu, ‘Tradition, truth & tomorrow’, The Monthly, December 2008 – January 2009.

  3 Miller v Jackson [1977] 3 All ER 338.

  4 Patricia Karvelas, ‘Most want race discrimination removed from Constitution’, The Australian, 11 November 2011.

  Chapter 4: The ‘One-Clause Bill of Rights’

  1 Stuart Rintoul, ‘Lawyer warns of hidden dangers in changes to Constitution’, The Australian, 10 December 2011.

 

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