Social Justice Report 1998 : Introduction: A Handful of Soil

Social Justice Report 1998

Introduction: A Handful of Soil

• Bringing Them Home

• Reconciliation

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 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

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.