In a world of neoliberal substitutes for the humanities, malignant acceptance of mediocrity, and cult worship of the vacuous; the promotion of idealism is akin to an extreme sport. Despite being voodooed for its seeming intangibility and naivety, idealism remains a powerful ally to truth seeking. It teaches us to see the complexities of our world through multiple lenses and brings compassion to competing interests. For example, if we are to understand the complex interplay of tensions that surround a movement such as Aboriginal Sovereignty, we also need to understand the mosaic of social history behind the oppression of Indigenous peoples, the driving forces that continue to deny genocidal actions of our government, and the ways Australian Law inverts, in covert fashion, the intricate tapestry of the spiritual and political.
Australia has ostensibly separated state and religion, yet its moral framework, as expressed in political argument and dominant public sentiment, remain overwhelmingly Christian based. Collectively speaking, any level of discomfort over the potential clash between religious and political aims seems to provoke minimal resistance from Australia’s puritanical centre. As a student of the humanities, the epicentre of interest here, is not the existence of a such a centre, or its blindness to itself, but the contest over its appropriation.
Global postcolonial movements are concrete expressions of non-tangible ideals such as those expressed in the United Nations Declaration on The Rights of Indigenous People. Moral condemnation of racial, religious, and cultural oppression is not enough to facilitate meaningful social change. The ghosts of an unsettled past require redress. Self-determination, Indigenous rights, and the reinstatement of traditional laws and customs remain as hollow notions until actualised through land and territory. Aboriginal Sovereignty is expressed (and oppressed) primarily through legalised and ideological commodification of land and religion.
Native Title claims for instance, require proof of traditionality, that is, possession of Aboriginal religion. This onus of proof focuses on demonstration of continuity of customs that colonisation did its best to eradicate. Often painfully secured, this forced commodification of identity is often used as a divisive tool. Notions of pre-contact consciousness and authenticity (am I black enough?) have become enmeshed within the politics of identity. For those who fear sovereignty will tip the status-quo, these solidified notions are readily wielded as weapons. And, as with any weapon, these too are largely indiscriminate, injuring those seated outside the mainstream paradigm.
The terrain at the centre of society’s fault-lines is often blurred by the voices of its combatants. This noise can distract from the task of questioning. It is at this point, fatigued from seeking a way forward through the murky pain of our inheritance that we are in danger of losing faith in idealism and truth-seeking. Rather than succumb, hold onto your cynicism and apply it to understanding the complexities of this vast human world we live in. Seek to understand the ideas that shape our politics and impact our lives. Even when you think you are immune. Sovereignty is not just a black issue; it affects all of us.
Trina Jackson
Puzzle Creek Press 