In the South Australian town of Goolwa earlier this month, I took part in the nation's first "politically incorrect" walk for reconciliation. It hadn't actually been planned as a reconciliation event, but it was transformed into one by an Aboriginal activist unhappy with the craven behaviour of the state's Liberal Party government.
I had travelled to Goolwa for the opening of the controversial bridge linking the town with Hindmarsh Island in the lower Murray. The bridge has long been opposed by a coalition of ferry drivers, environmentalists, and wealthy holiday-home owners who wanted to keep the island largely to themselves.
In the mid-1990s, they had the shrewd idea of recruiting Ngarrindjeri Aborigines to support their cause. Soon a small group of Ngarrindjeri began to claim that the bridge would desecrate their "secret women's business", although another group of Ngarrindjeri, the so-called "dissident women", came forward to ridicule these claims.
In response, the state government set up a Royal Commission to investigate the competing accounts. The findings were unequivocal -- the whole "women's business" story was simply a fabrication designed to prevent the bridge from being built.
Although no-one has refuted the evidence and arguments that the Royal Commission presented to support its findings, some Ngarrindjeri and whites still pretend that the "secret women's business" is genuine. They have mounted a series of unsuccessful court cases against the bridge, including one based on the ludicrous claim that it would constitute genocide against the Ngarrindjeri.
The anti-bridge Ngarrindjeri are now trying to obtain funds to set up a toll ferry service linking Hindmarsh Island with the town of Clayton, 12 km from Goolwa, which would bring even more visitors to the island. They have obviously forgotten that initially they said they opposed the bridge because it would bring increased traffic, and so cause further disturbance to an island of supposedly immense cultural significance.
Despite all this, the anti-bridge Ngarrindjeri are still treated with great respect in many quarters, including sections of academia, the churches, and the ABC. So, given the Liberal Party's unenviable track record of wilting in the face of opposition from the posturing classes, few were surprised that South Australian government ministers were reluctant to be involved with the opening of the bridge.
Premier John Olson did not even attend, despite many urgings to do so. Transport Minister Diana Laidlaw, who might normally be expected to do the honours at such an opening, said she didn't want her name on any plaque on the bridge, thus becoming probably the first politician in Australian history to refuse to be associated with a major public works project.
So the task fell to the local member and Minister for Human Services Dean Brown, who had established the Royal Commission in 1995, before being deposed as South Australia's premier. His speech was extraordinary, even for a fainthearted politician.
Mr Brown gave recognition to the anti-bridge Ngarrindjeri who were protesting nearby under a banner proclaiming "genocide". He went on to identify and thank many people who had helped to bring about the completion of the bridge. But he pointedly omitted the two parties without whom the bridge would never have been built.
Mr Brown declined to acknowledge either the developers, Tom and Wendy Chapman, who persevered despite all the forces of "political correctness" lined up against them; or the Ngarrindjeri "dissident women" sitting in front of him, who blew the whistle on the bogus "women's business" claims.
This was all too much for Allan "Chirpy" Campbell, a Ngarrindjeri whose family claims to be the traditional owners of Hindmarsh Island. Mr Campbell is probably best described as an agitator. In the mid-1980s he went to Libya to request funds from Colonel Gadaffi as part of a delegation led by the Aboriginal separatist Michael Mansell, and he has had a long involvement in the Aboriginal deaths in custody campaign.
The organisers had made no plans for Mr Campbell to speak, although he and his family supported the bridge's construction. But confronted with a burly and forceful Aborigine dressed in what was supposed to be a traditional cloak -- though cut from an old blanket, and sporting the Aboriginal flag -- they did not have the stomach to resist.
Chirpy has a reputation for being a bit of a loose cannon, and some of the Ngarrindjeri in the audience were nervous about what he might say. But their anxieties were unfounded, for he redeemed an event that otherwise would have been a testament to bad faith. The former black separatist said the things that should have been said by the white politicians.
He pointed out that the "secret women's business" had been fabricated by a white, and asked people to applaud the honesty and courage of Dorothy Wilson, Dulcie Wilson, and the other Ngarrindjeri "dissident women" in the audience. He also thanked the Chapmans for helping Ngarrindjeri tell the real truth about their history and culture.
Mr Campbell went on to say that the Hindmarsh Island bridge was a powerful symbol of reconciliation, and he condemned the failure of state and national reconciliation organisations to get behind the opening. So he declared that the bridge crossing which was about to get under way would be a walk for reconciliation.
Around 7,000 individuals, both Ngarrindjeri and non-Aboriginal Australians, joined him in a fine spirit of camaraderie; an impressive number for a small town. The only unhappy people were the little group of anti-bridge protestors mouthing inanities in the adjoining park, and the politicians whose gutlessness had been revealed to all.
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