On Sovereignty: an interview with Aunty Peta

What does sovereignty mean to you?

Burangidigol, it means freedom, it means ancestors, it means sovereignty in our own language. We come from a society of freedom. That’s what our society’s based on; not just free for all and do what you like, but freedom.

So in being a sovereign and standing as a sovereign and walking as a sovereign and breathing as a sovereign I am living my culture. It’s not an appendage, I am it – that’s how important it is to me. The word sovereignty, being an English word, that’s a fantastic one, Burangidigol is sovereignty as well in our language and it’s our birth right, it’s not something that we should just reclaim, it’s about who we are. It means walking who we are, walking our culture, not culture as a physical act, like making a basket, but this is our culture too, quite frankly.

What actions do you take that are informed by your sovereignty?

For a start, I don’t acknowledge the jurisdiction of the Australian government over my life, because it has none. That’s the basis and the foundation of my walk, and my fight is to not just actively reject their jurisdiction but to put it right, that’s justice to me.

So that’s the root of our movement, it’s not just protecting our natural rights, that’s an international law; we’re sovereigns. It’s about accepting our law and walking as we are meant to be walking in this day and age, and as we’ve always walked. It’s not new. It’s something that’s new to a lot of people, yes, because we’ve been enslaved for so long. There’s people in the world who’ve been enslaved for much longer, it’s only been 200 years for us but it’s about just freeing ourselves from the bondage of this society.

We’re not eligible to be bound, that’s the whole point. The whole foundation of our standing up is that the government, they’re foreign powers, they do not have any legal jurisdiction over us at all, so our walk is about educating and rejecting that.

Would you take actions of civil disobedience in the course of your sovereignty?

I wouldn’t call it civil disobedience, I call it just our birth right. I don’t call it war or terror. We’re under duress here in our own country living the way that we do. What they do are acts of terror, they are the terrorists, they are the ones enacting war upon us.

So, it’s a long walk, of course, and our fight is an endless fight, probably until I close my eyes on life, but I hope, when I’m an old girl, I’m gunna have a peaceful existence one day, so I gotta get all this straightened out now as a young person. It’s my right as an older person, to be able to sit down comfortably in my lands somewhere, not be invaded by any foreign forces, and to teach my grandchildren, great grandchildren, whoever’s about, about who they are, and to never forget that, and teach them about how to use the environment, and be one with the environment, that’s what I’m meant to be fuckin’ doing. I’m meant to be doing that now as well, that’s what I’m meant to be doing every day of my life. I got six children, they’re my responsibility, to teach about this stuff, about culture, about how to live.

We live in a culture today, it’s a funny thing to call this lifestyle, but it is a culture, this culture’s about slavery. It’s go get a job, okay, but what’s a job? A job is walking for someone else’s dream. I don’t want their jobs, I don’t want to be enslaved or bound to anyone else’s dream but my own, or people who have like-minded dreams.

I just don’t agree with what they want me to do, and there’s so many people, no matter where your ancestors have come from, in this day and age we have the same problem, and that’s all there is to it. They want us to voluntarily give up our freedom, so we can help someone else, and who is this someone else? Someone who’s been ripping our lives apart, and I won’t contribute to that, sorry, I never will.

Sovereignty’s about governance – it’s not about an action, it’s not about a protest. It’s about governance in our lives, which will build into governance of clans, which will build into governance of nations, which is I guess that catchphrase of self-determination and self-sufficiency as well. It’s about being self-sufficient in a legal sense of the word, to be able to hold our own court legally. If we don’t know our natural rights, if we don’t know our own legal jurisdiction within our realm, and our legal jurisdiction in their realm, and all the other realms that affect us, well then we’re shot ducks, were just bound to be slaves.

Every single human being on the face of the earth has sovereignty. Every single person, not just us. It’s a natural right, that’s an international legal term, natural rights, which means that we don’t have to bow down to a monarch or a government. That’s how it is for everybody.

You have the right to be a sovereign if you choose, and everybody has that right and choice. The term is called a freeman, and their rights are, like I said, the same as ours. They always fight against, or deflect any governing body or foreign power over them, it’s just about learning how to do that.

The Australian government is a corporation. A corporation is not a governing power, it’s like Ronald McDonald saying, “Here’s a licence, drive with it.” All these people [freemen] know the truth under common law, no governing power can do those things to us, so they don’t use licenses, they get pulled up, but if they know all of their shit, they’re free. You gotta know the right things to say, the right questions to ask the police when they come, but that’s how it works.

How would you like to see other people engage in and respect sovereignty?

Well, definitely learn about their own type of sovereignty that they’re entitled to. Us having jurisdiction means that freemen can come into our jurisdiction by invitation and sit inside of our realm, so they’re protected that way. The sovereignty movement is an endless fight. I just hope by the time I’m an old person that I’m not at the same point that we’re at today. If I sat in their jurisdiction I can guarantee that I would be going to the grave fighting tooth and nail, every minute, for any given thing, that’s what they do to us. They’ll make a fight there, there, there, there and there, and we go around fighting them all and we’re fucked by the end of the day. They make lots of spot fires for us, but what I see with sovereignty, going on the route that we are, all those spot fires can be fought with one spear. That’s what I’m seeing as a practical measure as well because everything is to do with sovereignty. Every single fight is to do with sovereignty.

People learn about their rights and then come and learn about our jurisdiction. I don’t see any sense in people who come from this jurisdiction knowing nothing, cause in anything they do, they’ll get fucked by the system, and we don’t want that to happen to people. Sovereignty is about taking total responsibility for your life. We can’t carry everybody on our head. Sovereignty is about self-determination and self-sufficiency. We’re not there yet, but that’s what were moving towards. It’s about living our birthright, our own law.

The Prescribed Area Peoples’ Alliance

The Prescribed Area People’s Alliance is a group of Aboriginal people from communities affected by the NT Intervention. More than 130 people have joined Alliance over two meetings in Mparntwe – Alice Springs on September 29 and November 7.

Today, Friday November 7, the Prescribed Area People’s Alliance held its second meeting. We have issued the following statement:

We are outraged that today Lex Wotton, an Indigenous man from Palm Island, was sentenced for 6 years for protesting the murder of another Indigenous man by a white policeman. That policeman has since been promoted and given $100,000 compensation. Police brutality and harassment of Indigenous people continues throughout Australia, including here in Central Australia in our town camps and communities. It has gotten worse since the Intervention with new powers and military style raids.

The NTER* must be immediately repealed. The $1 billion that has been spent on rolling out this legislation has been wasted, and could have been spent supporting our communities, the services and programs that we have in our communities, that are owned and controlled by us. No one wants it.

We are tired of people who aren’t living this Intervention saying it is good for our people. They don’t have to line up for store cards, have police come through their house or fight to keep their homes or blocks of land.

Income management is not good for us. It’s too hard to access our money. Kids are crying all round for money for drink, for school, but nothing in our pocket. Kids are suffering under the Intervention. Income Management has to be voluntary. People can manage their own money.

The Intervention is racist. If this was about alcohol and children, why is it just Aboriginal people that have this legislation, and not everyone else? Problems exist everywhere. We are not all alcoholics and child abusers, we are strong First Nations people and we should not be treated like this.

The Intervention has demonised Aboriginal men. The government always says that all the women are for the Intervention and men are against it. But the majority of people in the Prescribed Area People’s Alliance are women and strong men are standing up behind them in support.

The Racial Discrimination Act must be immediately reinstated. It must never be suspended again to push through another government policy. Every time it has been suspended, it has been so the government can do something to hurt Aboriginal people. The Federal Government must also sign and ratify the Declaration for the Rights of Indigenous Peoples.

These assimilation policies destroy our culture and our lives. It is the Stolen Generation all over again. The government just said sorry to us, but at the same time they are doing this Intervention. They will have to say sorry again.

The government is refusing to build us any housing unless we sign over control of our land for 40 years or more. We say NO LEASES. We will not sign. Why couldn’t they help us out with money for our housing and services? It is our right for these things. Since they took the 5-year leases with the Intervention, they have done nothing. Why do they need 40, 80 years more? The government having this control is no good. Our lives depend on our land. It is connected to our songlines, our culture and our dreaming.

We are angry they are threatening to close down outstations. People choose to live out on their land on outstations. It is their home, their country. The government must provide funding for outstations, not take it away so people have to move into town. Many people don’t want to live in town, they want to live on their land. In town, there is already a lot of over-crowding and problems. We had to fight hard for outstations, but now we are going to have to fight hard to keep them.

We are angry the NT government is trying to stop teaching of language in schools. We need to fight for our culture and our language. Schools must be Aboriginal way – we need bilingual schools, with two way learning. Our kids need to learn in our own languages. Culture must be kept strong.

Us mob from outstations, town-camps and communities are all subjected to this racist legislation. So we, the prescribed area people are going to stick on our decision to keep fighting. We are not going to give up until the government stops this Intervention, listens to us and starts working with us properly.

We call on other communities to take action, in their communities. We call for rallies here in Alice Springs and around the country to mark Human Rights Day on December 13, 60 years since the UN human rights charter was signed. We call for everyone who supports Aboriginal rights to converge on Canberra for the opening of Parliament in 2009.

For more information contact: Barbara Shaw 0401291166 or Valerie Martin 0429891861

our bits and play at climate camp

the night before we locked ourselves onto a coal loader i lay with a sleeping bag over my head, angry and tired to the point of muteness. sick of meetings, of planning and car troubles and people, scared and almost over it. we sleep all together on the floor and I try not to think too much in case I change my mind.

early early in the morning we pile in cars, with large metal tubes and small chains around our ready wrists. we drive to kooragang coal port as dawn threatens pale at the edges of the sky. at the entry to the port a streetlight reveals a car with police prop-legged around it, their feet in it’s open doors. i’m so scared our plans are about to stretch too thin and break. we get confused and drive past the site three times, u-turning in front of the police. i want to not be here now, i want to wake up when its over.

finally we pull up beside the fence and tumble out of the car. we go over the fence one by one. scrabbling with no foothold. an almost laugh. a hand scraped on barbed wire. we pass the heavy bits of pipe through the fence and walk quick across the bitumen together. no one comes to grab us, no one drags us down from the fence like i kept seeing in my head. we climb yellow metal steps, onto the machine that loads coal into ships, coal for burning in places distant. press with a flat hand all the big red emergency stop buttons, the conveyor belt winds slowly still and the sirens start. we keep frantically locking ourselves to bits of conveyor belt, changing our minds, changing place, and repeating. everyone else is calm now but i’m not. finally we are settled, feet dangling, knees brushing conveyor-belt rubber. we are locked with bits of pipe and now its easy, and i’m not scared anymore.

the machine is almost beautiful. draped with yellow lights in the almost fog and the sea sitting blackly close. the sun rises over the harbour and the cold air doesn’t sting. lib and me are wearing bike helmets. libby’s helmet is back to front. we are the hottest people ever. probably.

finally they find us. it’s a little awkard. some of them are condescending, tell us all the lies they said they’d tell. “this machine has been turned off for months. you’re not stopping anything.”

“we know it was on when we came,” i say. “whatevs,” i add. sort of undermybreath, sort of byaccident. lib laughs.

Dwayne comes and chats with us. he’s quiet and friendly and curious, it’s his first time with protesters. he tells us to be careful, follow the ritual and we’ll be okay.

the police are grumpy and not impressed. we smile politely, thank them, and refuse to do anything they ask. we wont lock off, thank you. we understand your concern, thankyou. good morning. etc. etc. they search libby haphazardly. out of her overall pockets come fifteen dirty tissues. meanwhile we stuff our faces quietly with chocolate. they lock off our friends. then they take apart the conveyor belt we are attached to. we apologise to the worker. he says its fine, smiling, he has nothing better to do.

we are no longer attached to anything, but the policeman is confused, and asks us to unlock ourselves. we point out we aren’t actually attached to anything. they make us walk down the steps. we stay locked together, yelling at oli that we love him, in case the police are being mean. finally they ask us to please unlock ourselves from the pipe. ok. then we take our helmets off. they tell us to put them back on.

they forget to search me, and put me in the paddywagon with a bag full of chocolate and an epi-pen. they recognise my novocastrian school jumper and chat with me about uni. i am lucky, processed by the nice cop, an ex youth worker. he makes sure we are ok, and never leaves us on our own. lib and sally dance in the back of the paddy wagon while they process me. they ask tony to put his number in front of his face so he does. the police man calls him a dickhead.

finally they are done and we get to ride home in an APEC bus. just the five of us, giggling up the back. it looks like my old school bus plus bars. it probably is. they take us back to camp, like school children, excited and back from a school excursion. a day well spent, and finally over.

Cranking Up Action at Climate Camp

When one thousand people took action against the coal industry’s role in dangerous climate change, they perhaps inadvertently elucidated an interesting debate about the realms of private and public property. In the ensuing weeks, whilst we were all recovering from ten long days of intense and anxious activism, debates raged online between activists and hecklers about the validity of such a demonstration. When I decided to attend Climate Camp, I had come to the conclusion that in order to solve the climate crisis it would take ordinary people doing extraordinary things to make the politicians do anything. Indeed, if you take a straw poll of many Australians most of them will tell you that politicians are usually reactionary; that is, they respond to crises, disturbances and blips that disrupt their pragmatic politics that allow them to straddle interest groups for decades whilst making little progress on the really difficult questions.

It was such that the Climate Camp project captured my imagination. It was a perfect juxtaposition, a group of committed members of the community potentially breaking the law and putting themselves in the firing line to protect something that is ours: the climate and our environment. In a rational world, police would have been instructed by the state to lock down the railway tracks so that the trains could not deliver another damaging load of coal – how dare they, the coal companies, show such disrespect for our property. Yet it couldn’t have been further from the truth. In reality, police were given the usual large powers that successive anti-riot laws have allowed them to aggregate. However, even to some police the whole exercise seemed irrational. When our affinity group of three students made it onto the tracks, most of the police were clearly frustrated that they were spending their entire Sunday in their huge riot suits as lackeys for corporations who continue to bleed the state of policing and economic resources to defend the indefensible. My arresting officer even admitted to me that he was uncomfortable doing this job. It had smashed the idealism that he had once had about being a police officer and serving the community, when in fact his labour was an accessory to the debasing of community property.

Who made the value judgement that private property eclipses social property? Economics students might argue it is a simple case of market failure, a case of not assigning property ‘rights’ to the air, but my contention is that even after we do this, won’t it be the same companies, the same rent seekers, the same interest groups causing the same political failures that predated this market failure? The only solution to this market failure is to fix the political failure that caused it. People power can beat climate change, but we have to be ready to non-violently break the law if that is what it takes to restore order in the biosphere.