A mother holds her young child over a deep precipice. "You see how much I love you", she says to the terrified youngster. "Even though you are heavy, I am not going to let you fall".
I recall coming across this striking image of the destructiveness of certain kinds of caring in an essay written by a leftist psychiatrist in the early 1970s. He was using it to attack the nuclear family, a favourite target of radicals in those years. But it is an image that has a broader applicability.
In particular, it can be applied to the unhealthy relationship that may exist between victims of injustice and some of their supporters. We have seen something of this in the last week, with the reaction to the Federal Parliament's declaration of "deep and sincere regret" for Australia's past treatment of Aborigines.
Although the Labor Opposition ended up voting for the motion, Kim Beazley attacked John Howard for not going far enough, and demanded an unqualified apology and financial compensation for the "stolen generations".
Beazley has his own ghosts to lay to rest. As the Minister for Territories in the Menzies government and former governor-general Paul Hasluck recounted in his book Shades of Darkness, the Labor party took shared responsibility for the Coalition's assimilation policy with only an occasional demurral. Hasluck wrote of his regard for his Labor counterpart, the spokesman for Aboriginal affairs, Kim Beazley senior, whom he saw as a "like-minded person" to himself.
Sir Ronald Wilson, the former President of the Human Rights and Equal Opportunity Commission and the co-author of the Bringing Them Home report on the "stolen generations", reacted to the declaration in similar terms. It was "deeply disappointing" and merely a political exercise, he said, ignoring the fact that these words were even more applicable to his own report, which was one of the most misleading and politically tendentious official documents to appear in recent years.
Various other opponents of the government also weighed in against the John Howard-Aden Ridgeway brokered declaration of regret. Prominent academic Robert Manne thought it would leave "a bitter aftertaste", and a group of Aboriginal land council heads and former beneficiaries of Labor patronage said that it was a "hasty and disgraceful pretence".
I do not doubt that all these worthies care deeply about the problems of Aboriginal disadvantage, and feel genuine distress when they reflect on the way that Aborigines were treated in the past. But like the precipice-defying mother in the psychiatrist's cautionary tale, they need to ask themselves whether their declarations of concern and devotion might not be destructive to the focus of their ministrations.
There is a nasty dilemma at the heart of contemporary attempts to make amends for previous injustices. If we deny that these occurred, we are deluding ourselves and dishonouring people who suffered through no fault of their own. But on the other hand, by continually harping on past wrongs and insisting that it is the responsibility of the government and all Australians to fix the problems that now exist, those who passionately embrace Aboriginal causes may be making things worse.
They are encouraging Aborigines to avoid taking personal responsibility for their own lives. It is hard to think of a more effective way of undermining "self determination", which, if it is to mean anything at all, must begin at the level of the individual "self". Every time a churchperson or academic tells us that Aboriginal alcohol abuse or domestic violence or youth suicide or indifference to educational attainment is mainly our fault, they are also telling Aborigines that self-destructive behaviour is somehow excusable, because the ultimate responsibility for overcoming such behaviour always rests with others.
In this way, while gaining moral kudos for their supposedly sympathetic stance, these righteous people are making their own contribution towards perpetuating the welfarist mentality and many of the problems that they decry in Aboriginal communities. It is the worst kind of vicious circle.
Of course, there are certain levels of infrastructure and services that governments need to provide to assist Aboriginal communities. But they can only do so much. Not only is it unrealistic to think that governments can have a great impact on changing people's individual behaviour, it is also dangerous.
After all, it was the notion that government had the right to interfere massively in the lives of Aborigines that led to many of the abuses for which we are now expressing regret. I do not go along with much of the "stolen generations" rhetoric, but that does not mean I accept the "rescued generations" response that is currently being promoted by certain conservatives. Some Aboriginal children were "rescued", but many were wrongly removed from their families.
Although I welcome last week's declaration in the hope that it effectively disarms the calls for John Howard to "apologise", I doubt whether the government can expect the same degree of success in the future when it must deal with the many other symbolic issues that make Aboriginal affairs such a minefield.
The Prime Minister cannot expect to rely on Aden Ridgeway for beneficial compromises all the time. The new Senator is a sensible man with a number of constructive views. But as an Australian Democrat and the only Aborigine in Parliament, his more vocal constituencies will exert great pressure on him to support the old victim-encouraging nostrums, despite their obvious failings.
Unfortunately however, unless there are significant changes in approaching the broader symbolic issues, many Aborigines will continue to teeter on the precipice that their supporters have created for them, and the practical measures to improve Aboriginal well-being will always fall far short of their intended objectives.
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