I was on a bus a few days ago when three Indigenous Australians, also periodically known as Aboriginals, got on. The two guys and one woman looked about middle-age, were shabbily dressed and clearly drunk. They mumbled loudly between themselves and glared aggressively at fellow passengers. They staggered off after a couple of stops and I could see them stumble into a park as the bus pulled off.
“Smell very bad!” said our East-Asian driver who stopped the bus shortly afterwards. He produced a can of air freshener and marched theatrically up and down the aisle spraying liberally. It was an awkward, uncomfortable affair but unfortunately, pretty much typical of my experience with both Indigenous Australians and the reaction they seem to get.
There is no doubt that things are difficult for Australia’s native communities right now. There is little point in denying the fact that alcoholism and drug abuse are a disproportionately significant problems for them in comparison to the broader Australian people. Successive reports examining semi-autonomous, isolated Aboriginal communities in various parts of Australia have highlighted shocking levels of child abuse and family violence – way beyond what is seen in other parts of the country. These people also suffer disproportionately from a range of health problems and on average will die considerably younger than their non-indigenous fellow Australians.
The liberal, somewhat cosy option of saying Indigenous Australians and their communities are just like everyone else suddenly becomes a difficult one to defend. Centuries of chronic abuse and disadvantage means they are not the same – and pretending they are only prevents specific measures designed to tackle the problems they face from being introduced.
It’s difficult to grasp the magnitude of changes endured by these communities, in place for up to an astounding 70,000 years, since the arrival of Europeans. Unlike most other peoples around the world they were largely semi-nomadic hunter gathers with no tradition of agriculture or animal husbandry. With no command of metals they remained largely in the Stone Age. I’ve heard people describe this way of life as primitive, but I’m not sure that gives an accurate picture.
It’s entirely unreasonable to suggest that the indigenous Australian nations went 70,000 years without ever noticing that a crop grows when you drop seeds on the ground. Their avoidance of agriculture was quite clearly a lifestyle choice. A life of work on farms or in tool-making or other related industries was set aside in favour of a nomadic existence in which they could feed themselves just as easily. Their time was used instead to create elaborate languages, music, art, stories and religious rituals. They were for all the world, travelling artisans. Indigenous Australians were one of the only peoples on earth to not have a tradition of alcohol consumption and war and inter-national conflict were practically unknown.
Literally half their number were wiped out by smallpox and other diseases brought by European settlers and once the arrivals gained a foothold, the new colonial masters proved exceptionally brutal. Stories of farmers and rangers shooting Aboriginal men, women and children on sight were common, as were reports of slavery. Government sterilisation programmes and enforced Christianity were initiated and thousands of indigenous families had their children taken from them. Nearly a whole generation was handed over to white settlers or crammed into institutions. 70,000 years were almost wiped out in a single century – it’s hardly surprising that so many Indigenous Australians turned to drink and struggle with its by-products at present.
The Australian Government responded to these problems and of reports of endemic child abuse in particular by taking control of a 73 of the most troubled communities. Its plans involved a range of race-specific regulations so they declared a state of national emergency and suspended the country’s Racial Discrimination Act. They then implemented measures that can either be considered pragmatic, practical and brave, or as discriminatory throwbacks to the heavy-handed, counter-productive sterilisation and forced adoption programs seen in previous decades.
Among the actions taken were compulsory income management, through which unemployment and other benefits given to families are tied to certain necessities, and blanket bans on alcohol and pornography in problem towns.
There is little doubt that the measures taken by the Australian Government were racist – they only apply to certain Indigenous-dominated communities. However, it is also evident that these steps have improved the lives of many Indigenous Australians, particularly women and children. So where does that leave Australia’s race laws? They were designed to improve the lives of minorities but what if, as in this case, they threatened to prevent a government from taking direly needed steps to provide protection and boost the standard of living for one such group? It’s a perilously thorny issue and the stakes are high – intervene to protect children and women from appalling levels of abuse or stand back, respect the autonomy of the regions controlled by indigenous people and abide by the race laws that were introduced for very good reason. I don’t envy the Australian Government or people for having to provide the answers these questions pose.
