Apology to Australia's Indigenous Peoples
House of Representatives
Parliament House, Canberra
13 February 2008
Prime Minister Kevin Rudd
—I move:
That today we honour the Indigenous peoples of this land, the oldest
continuing cultures in human history.
We reflect on their past mistreatment.
We reflect in particular on the mistreatment of those who were Stolen
Generations—this blemished chapter in our nation’s history.
The time has now come for the nation to turn a new page in Australia’s
history by righting the wrongs of the past and so moving forward with
confidence to the future.
We apologise for the laws and policies of successive Parliaments and governments
that have inflicted profound grief, suffering and loss on these our fellow
Australians.
We apologise especially for the removal of Aboriginal and Torres Strait
Islander children from their families, their communities and their country.
For the pain, suffering and hurt of these Stolen Generations, their descendants
and for their families left behind, we say sorry.
To the mothers and the fathers, the brothers and the sisters, for the
breaking up of families and communities, we say sorry.
And for the indignity and degradation thus inflicted on a proud people
and a proud culture, we say sorry.
We the Parliament of Australia respectfully request that this apology
be received in the spirit in which it is offered as part of the healing
of the nation.
For the future we take heart; resolving that this new page in the history
of our great continent can now be written.
We today take this first step by acknowledging the past and laying claim
to a future that embraces all Australians.
A future where this Parliament resolves that the injustices of the past
must never, never happen again.
A future where we harness the determination of all Australians, Indigenous
and non-Indigenous, to close the gap that lies between us in life expectancy,
educational achievement and economic opportunity.
A future where we embrace the possibility of new solutions to enduring
problems where old approaches have failed.
A future based on mutual respect, mutual resolve and mutual responsibility.
A future where all Australians, whatever their origins, are truly equal
partners, with equal opportunities and with an equal stake in shaping
the next chapter in the history of this great country, Australia.
There comes a time in the history of nations when their peoples must
become fully reconciled to their past if they are to go forward with confidence
to embrace their future. Our nation, Australia, has reached such a time.
And that is why the parliament is today here assembled: to deal with this
unfinished business of the nation, to remove a great stain from the nation’s
soul and, in a true spirit of reconciliation, to open a new chapter in
the history of this great land, Australia.
Last year I made a commitment to the Australian people that if we formed
the next government of the Commonwealth we would in parliament say sorry
to the Stolen Generations. Today I honour that commitment. I said we would
do so early in the life of the new parliament. Again, today I honour that
commitment by doing so at the commencement of this the 42nd parliament
of the Commonwealth. Because the time has come, well and truly come, for
all peoples of our great country, for all citizens of our great Commonwealth,
for all Australians—those who are Indigenous and those who are not—to
come together to reconcile and together build a new future for our nation.
Some have asked, ‘Why apologise?’ Let me begin to answer by telling the
parliament just a little of one person’s story—an elegant, eloquent and
wonderful woman in her 80s, full of life, full of funny stories, despite
what has happened in her life’s journey. A woman who has travelled a long
way to be with us today, a member of the Stolen Generation who shared
some of her story with me when I called around to see her just a few days
ago. Nungala Fejo, as she prefers to be called, was born in the late 1920s.
She remembers her earliest childhood days living with her family and her
community in a bush camp just outside Tennant Creek. She remembers the
love and the warmth and the kinship of those days long ago, including
traditional dancing around the camp fire at night. She loved the dancing.
She remembers once getting into strife when, as a four-year-old girl,
she insisted on dancing with the male tribal elders rather than just sitting
and watching the men, as the girls were supposed to do.
But then, sometime around 1932, when she was about four, she remembers
the coming of the welfare men. Her family had feared that day and had
dug holes in the creek bank where the children could run and hide. What
they had not expected was that the white welfare men did not come alone.
They brought a truck, they brought two white men and an Aboriginal stockman
on horseback cracking his stockwhip. The kids were found; they ran for
their mothers, screaming, but they could not get away. They were herded
and piled onto the back of the truck. Tears flowing, her mum tried clinging
to the sides of the truck as her children were taken away to the Bungalow
in Alice, all in the name of protection.
A few years later, government policy changed. Now the children would
be handed over to the missions to be cared for by the churches. But which
church would care for them? The kids were simply told to line up in three
lines. Nanna Fejo and her sister stood in the middle line, her older brother
and cousin on her left. Those on the left were told that they had become
Catholics, those in the middle Methodists and those on the right Church
of England. That is how the complex questions of post-reformation theology
were resolved in the Australian outback in the 1930s. It was as crude
as that. She and her sister were sent to a Methodist mission on Goulburn
Island and then Croker Island. Her Catholic brother was sent to work at
a cattle station and her cousin to a Catholic mission.
Nanna Fejo’s family had been broken up for a second time. She stayed
at the mission until after the war, when she was allowed to leave for
a prearranged job as a domestic in Darwin. She was 16. Nanna Fejo never
saw her mum again. After she left the mission, her brother let her know
that her mum had died years before, a broken woman fretting for the children
that had literally been ripped away from her.
I asked Nanna Fejo what she would have me say today about her story.
She thought for a few moments then said that what I should say today was
that all mothers are important. And she added: ‘Families—keeping them
together is very important. It’s a good thing that you are surrounded
by love and that love is passed down the generations. That’s what gives
you happiness.’ As I left, later on, Nanna Fejo took one of my staff aside,
wanting to make sure that I was not too hard on the Aboriginal stockman
who had hunted those kids down all those years ago. The stockman had found
her again decades later, this time himself to say, ‘Sorry.’ And remarkably,
extraordinarily, she had forgiven him.
Nanna Fejo’s is just one story. There are thousands, tens of thousands
of them: stories of forced separation of Aboriginal and Torres Strait
Islander children from their mums and dads over the better part of a century.
Some of these stories are graphically told in Bringing Them Home, the
report commissioned in 1995 by Prime Minister Keating and received in
1997 by Prime Minister Howard. There is something terribly primal about
these firsthand accounts. The pain is searing; it screams from the pages.
The hurt, the humiliation, the degradation and the sheer brutality of
the act of physically separating a mother from her children is a deep
assault on our senses and on our most elemental humanity.
These stories cry out to be heard; they cry out for an apology. Instead,
from the nation’s parliament there has been a stony and stubborn and deafening
silence for more than a decade. A view that somehow we, the parliament,
should suspend our most basic instincts of what is right and what is wrong.
A view that, instead, we should look for any pretext to push this great
wrong to one side, to leave it languishing with the historians, the academics
and the cultural warriors, as if the Stolen Generations are little more
than an interesting sociological phenomenon. But the Stolen Generations
are not intellectual curiosities. They are human beings, human beings
who have been damaged deeply by the decisions of parliaments and governments.
But, as of today, the time for denial, the time for delay, has at last
come to an end.
The nation is demanding of its political leadership to take us forward.
Decency, human decency, universal human decency, demands that the nation
now steps forward to right a historical wrong. That is what we are doing
in this place today. But should there still be doubts as to why we must
now act. Let the parliament reflect for a moment on the following facts:
that, between 1910 and 1970, between 10 and 30 per cent of Indigenous
children were forcibly taken from their mothers and fathers. That, as
a result, up to 50,000 children were forcibly taken from their families.
That this was the product of the deliberate, calculated policies of the
state as reflected in the explicit powers given to them under statute.
That this policy was taken to such extremes by some in administrative
authority that the forced extractions of children of so-called ‘mixed
lineage’ were seen as part of a broader policy of dealing with ‘the problem
of the Aboriginal population’.
One of the most notorious examples of this approach was from the Northern
Territory Protector of Natives, who stated, and I quote:
Generally by the fifth and invariably by the sixth generation, all native
characteristics of the Australian aborigine are eradicated. The problem
of our half-castes— to quote the protector— will quickly be eliminated
by the complete disappearance of the black race, and the swift submergence
of their progeny in the white ...
The Western Australian Protector of Natives expressed not dissimilar
views, expounding them at length in Canberra in 1937 at the first national
conference on Indigenous affairs that brought together the Commonwealth
and state protectors of natives. These are uncomfortable things to be
brought out into the light. They are not pleasant. They are profoundly
disturbing. But we must acknowledge these facts if we are to deal once
and for all with the argument that the policy of generic forced separation
was somehow well motivated, justified by its historical context and, as
a result, unworthy of any apology today.
Then we come to the argument of intergenerational responsibility, also
used by some to argue against giving an apology today. But let us remember
the fact that the forced removal of Aboriginal children was happening
as late as the early 1970s. The 1970s is not exactly a point in remote
antiquity. There are still serving members of this parliament who were
first elected to this place in the early 1970s. It is well within the
adult memory span of many of us. The uncomfortable truth for us all is
that the parliaments of the nation, individually and collectively, enacted
statutes and delegated authority under those statutes that made the forced
removal of children on racial grounds fully lawful.
There is a further reason for an apology as well: it is that reconciliation
is in fact an expression of a core value of our nation—and that value
is a fair go for all. There is a deep and abiding belief in the Australian
community that, for the Stolen Generations, there was no fair go at all.
And there is a pretty basic Aussie belief that says it is time to put
right this most outrageous of wrongs. It is for these reasons, quite apart
from concerns of fundamental human decency, that the governments and parliaments
of this nation must make this apology. Because, put simply, the laws that
our parliaments enacted made the Stolen Generations possible. We, the
parliaments of the nation, are ultimately responsible, not those who gave
effect to our laws, the problem lay with the laws themselves. As has been
said of settler societies elsewhere, we are the bearers of many blessings
from our ancestors and therefore we must also be the bearer of their burdens
as well. Therefore, for our nation, the course of action is clear. Therefore
for our people, the course of action is clear. And that is, to deal now
with what has become one of the darkest chapters in Australia’s history.
In doing so, we are doing more than contending with the facts, the evidence
and the often rancorous public debate. In doing so, we are also wrestling
with our own soul. This is not, as some would argue, a black-armband view
of history; it is just the truth: the cold, confronting, uncomfortable
truth. Facing with it, dealing with it, moving on from it. And until we
fully confront that truth, there will always be a shadow hanging over
us and our future as a fully united and fully reconciled people. It is
time to reconcile. It is time to recognise the injustices of the past.
It is time to say sorry. It is time to move forward together.
To the Stolen Generations, I say the following: as Prime Minister of
Australia, I am sorry. On behalf of the Government of Australia, I am
sorry. On behalf of the Parliament of Australia, I am sorry. And I offer
you this apology without qualification. We apologise for the hurt, the
pain and suffering we, the parliament, have caused you by the laws that
previous parliaments have enacted. We apologise for the indignity, the
degradation and the humiliation these laws embodied. We offer this apology
to the mothers, the fathers, the brothers, the sisters, the families and
the communities whose lives were ripped apart by the actions of successive
governments under successive parliaments. In making this apology, I would
also like to speak personally to the members of the Stolen Generation
and their families: to those here today, so many of you; to those listening
across the nation—from Yuendumu, in the central west of the Northern Territory,
to Yabara, in North Queensland, and to Pitjantjatjara in South Australia.
I know that, in offering this apology on behalf of the government and
the parliament, there is nothing I can say today that can take away the
pain you have suffered personally. Whatever words I speak today, I cannot
undo that. Words alone are not that powerful. Grief is a very personal
thing. I say to non-Indigenous Australians listening today who may not
fully understand why what we are doing is so important, I ask those non-Indigenous
Australians to imagine for a moment if this had happened to you. I say
to honourable members here present: imagine if this had happened to us.
Imagine the crippling effect. Imagine how hard it would be to forgive.
But my proposal is this: if the apology we extend today is accepted in
the spirit of reconciliation, in which it is offered, we can today resolve
together that there be a new beginning for Australia. And it is to such
a new beginning that I believe the nation is now calling us.
Australians are a passionate lot. We are also a very practical lot. For
us, symbolism is important but, unless the great symbolism of reconciliation
is accompanied by an even greater substance, it is little more than a
clanging gong. It is not sentiment that makes history; it is our actions
that make history. Today’s apology, however inadequate, is aimed at righting
past wrongs. It is also aimed at building a bridge between Indigenous
and non-Indigenous Australians—a bridge based on a real respect rather
than a thinly veiled contempt. Our challenge for the future is now to
cross that bridge and, in so doing, embrace a new partnership between
Indigenous and non-Indigenous Australians. Embracing, as part of that
partnership, expanded link-up and other critical services to help the
Stolen Generations to trace their families, if at all possible, and to
provide dignity to their lives. But the core of this partnership for the
future is to closing the gap between Indigenous and non-Indigenous Australians
on life expectancy, educational achievement and employment opportunities.
This new partnership on closing the gap will set concrete targets for
the future: within a decade to halve the widening gap in literacy, numeracy
and employment outcomes and opportunities for Indigenous children, within
a decade to halve the appalling gap in infant mortality rates between
Indigenous and non-Indigenous children and, within a generation, to close
the equally appalling 17-year life gap between Indigenous and non-Indigenous
when it comes when it comes to overall life expectancy.
The truth is: a business as usual approach towards Indigenous Australians
is not working. Most old approaches are not working. We need a new beginning.
A new beginning which contains real measures of policy success or policy
failure. A new beginning, a new partnership, on closing the gap with sufficient
flexibility not to insist on a one-size-fits-all approach for each of
the hundreds of remote and regional Indigenous communities across the
country but instead allows flexible, tailored, local approaches to achieve
commonly-agreed national objectives that lie at the core of our proposed
new partnership. And a new beginning that draws intelligently on the experiences
of new policy settings across the nation. However, unless we as a parliament
set a destination for the nation, we have no clear point to guide our
policy, our programs or our purpose; no centralised organising principle.
So let us resolve today to begin with the little children—a fitting place
to start on this day of apology for the Stolen Generations. Let us resolve
over the next five years to have every Indigenous four-year-old in a remote
Aboriginal community enrolled and attending a proper early childhood education
centre or opportunity and engaged in proper preliteracy and prenumeracy
programs. Let us resolve to build new educational opportunities for these
little ones, year by year, step by step, following the completion of their
crucial preschool year. Let us resolve to use this systematic approach
to building future educational opportunities for Indigenous children to
provide proper primary and preventive health care for the same children,
to begin the task of rolling back the obscenity that we find today in
infant mortality rates in remote Indigenous communities—up to four times
higher than in other communities.
None of this will be easy. Most of it will be hard—very hard. But none
of it, none of it, is impossible, and all of it is achievable with clear
goals, clear thinking, and by placing an absolute premium on respect,
cooperation and mutual responsibility as the guiding principles of this
new partnership on closing the gap. The mood of the nation is for reconciliation
now, between Indigenous and non-Indigenous Australians. The mood of the
nation on Indigenous policy and politics is now very simple. The nation
is calling on us, the politicians, to move beyond our infantile bickering,
our point-scoring and our mindlessly partisan politics and elevate at
least this one core area of national responsibility to a rare position
beyond the partisan divide. Surely this is the spirit, the unfulfilled
spirit, of the 1967 referendum. Surely, at least from this day forward,
we should give it a go.
So let me take this one step further to take what some may see as a piece
of political posturing and make a practical proposal to the opposition
on this day, the first full sitting day of the new parliament. I said
before the election the nation needed a kind of war cabinet on parts of
Indigenous policy, because the challenges are too great and the consequences
too great to just allow it all to become a political football, as it has
been so often in the past. I therefore propose a joint policy commission,
to be led by the Leader of the Opposition and myself and, with a mandate
to develop and implement—to begin with—an effective housing strategy for
remote communities over the next five years. It will be consistent with
the government’s policy framework, a new partnership for closing the gap.
If this commission operates well, I then propose that it work on the further
task of constitutional recognition of the first Australians, consistent
with the longstanding platform commitments of my party and the pre-election
position of the opposition. This would probably be desirable in any event
because, unless such a proposition were absolutely bipartisan, it would
fail at a referendum. As I have said before, the time has come for new
approaches to enduring problems. And working constructively together on
such defined projects, I believe, would meet with the support of the nation.
It is time for fresh ideas to fashion the nation’s future.
Today the parliament has come together to right a great wrong. We have
come together to deal with the past so that we might fully embrace the
future. And we have had sufficient audacity of faith to advance a pathway
to that future, with arms extended rather than with fists still clenched.
So let us seize the day. Let it not become a moment of mere sentimental
reflection. Let us take it with both hands and allow this day, this day
of national reconciliation, to become one of those rare moments in which
we might just be able to transform the way in which the nation thinks
about itself, whereby the injustice administered to these Stolen Generations
in the name of these, our parliaments, causes all of us to reappraise,
at the deepest level of our beliefs, the real possibility of reconciliation
writ large. Reconciliation across all Indigenous Australia. Reconciliation
across the entire history of the often bloody encounter between those
who emerged from the Dreamtime a thousand generations ago and those who,
like me, came across the seas only yesterday. Reconciliation which opens
up whole new possibilities for the future.
For the nation to bring the first two centuries of our settled history
to a close, as we begin a new chapter and which we embrace with pride,
admiration and awe these great and ancient cultures we are blessed, truly
blessed, to have among us. Cultures that provide a unique, uninterrupted
human thread linking our Australian continent to the most ancient prehistory
of our planet. And growing from this new respect, to see our Indigenous
brothers and sisters with fresh eyes, with new eyes, and with our minds
wide open as to how we might tackle, together, the great practical challenges
that Indigenous Australia faces in the future.
So let us turn this page together: Indigenous and non-Indigenous Australians,
Government and Opposition, Commonwealth and State, and write this new
chapter in our nation’s story together. First Australians, First Fleeters,
and those who first took the Oath of Allegiance just a few weeks ago.
Let’s grasp this opportunity to craft a new future for this great land:
Australia. I commend the motion to the House.
|
|
 |