Australian society
is a beautiful youth with a disfiguring scar. It is a scar that shames us most
because it was inflicted by our forebears. Yet our gaze will not be averted: repeated
surgery has failed to fade it; no amount of make-up or finery conceals it. We
are on show with it to ourselves and the world.
That scar is the
problem of Aboriginal Health.
It is not the only
wound on the Australian body politic, but it is surely the one that most
disturbs and disgraces us.
If ever there was a
case study for the social determinants of health, Australia’s failure over
Aboriginal Health is it: a young, rich, successful, first world nation-state,
with an enviable health, medical and scientific system. And what do have? By
far the worst indigenous health of all the OECD nations built on colonising
occupation.
In reality, the problem
of Aboriginal Health is strictly neither
an Aboriginal problem nor a Health problem. It is a malaise much
deeper and wider than that.
It’s as much a
calamity of obstinate unemployment, woeful literacy and education, lamentable
housing, destructive drug and other addictions, dire child abuse and neglect, and
incorrigible violence, crime and incarceration rates – in short, a compound of
underclass social indicators. It’s just that atrocious health will do as the
key exemplar and proxy for all Aboriginal ill-being.
As a function of
colonisation it is at bottom a social problem. And as a social problem it has
been tackled principally through economic and technical means – by pouring
resources into it. Nevertheless the Aboriginal Health glass remains neither
half full nor half empty; after decades of filling and refilling, of overflowing
the sides and soaking coasters, it contains only dregs.
Clearly it is not
the right type of receptacle to satisfy the thirst for wellbeing.
This is not to
deride the hard won advances in some areas – many good people, black, white and
otherwise, have worked hard for decades with small but encouraging improvements
in their area of Aboriginal Health, often only to see them falter and regress
as attention is diverted to other initiatives.
But as an overall
program Aboriginal Health has been an almost unmitigated failure, indeed quite
literally a tragic one. It is a tragedy not simply because of its origins but
because of the tolerance of it by non-indigenous Australians and our refusal to
root out the deeper causes.
* * *
Those causes
ultimately are ones of attitude – their resolution thus can occur only by
social, political and legal means; by us changing the way we look at ourselves
and each other.
We need a gestalt shift; we need to see the course
of history not as a scar but as a birthmark. This can happen only if we recast
the origins of the Australian nation as a birth that blends the qualities of
two peoples – indigenous and non-indigenous.
Perhaps to that end,
Australia now has before it a report by the Great and Good to the Prime
Minister* recommending a referendum to amend the Constitution so that, inter alia, it recognises Aboriginal
people as the first Australians.
Why then do many
people long concerned about this issue feel palpably underwhelmed?
By way of
explanation we need a little recent history.
After the 1967
referendum, the most important events for indigenous Australians were the Mabo and Wik decisions of the High Court in the 1990s. They went some
distance in specific ways regarding land law and the status of Aboriginal legal
systems and by dispensing with the legal fiction of terra nullius, and even then excited such conservative reaction as
to sour those sweet little victories.
Paul Keating’s
Redfern speech in 1992 and Kevin Rudd’s apology to the stolen generation in
2008 were good and worthy gestures too, though limited in effect and
historically ephemeral: they had no legal and institutional significance.
Aboriginal wellbeing
demands a bold and enduring change: something like the treaty that has been
sought for the 40 years the Aboriginal tent embassy has been pitched on the
grounds of old Parliament House.
Yet the lawyers tell
us we may not in strictness have a treaty – these are made between separate
nations. It is only at the creation of a colony or with the resolution of war
that peoples may make treaties (as was the case in Canada and New Zealand).
We can however have
a compact – a special sort of agreement with institutional gravity, in standing
somewhere between a treaty and a contract – that may form part of the Constitution.
But alas, in the
proposal now before us, we don’t have the option even of a compact. We have
just proposed amendments to constitutional provisions with three new sections.
Meritorious though these proposals may mostly be, they are not enough. Fine words about first Australians are still just words.
Meritorious though these proposals may mostly be, they are not enough. Fine words about first Australians are still just words.
* * *
Aboriginal people
are not just the first Australians, they are the quintessential Australians. It is an ineluctable historical truth that
without Aboriginal people preceding us we would not be the Australians we are;
we would be some other colonising mob.
There thus needs to
be a practical recognition of the standing of Aboriginal Australians; one by
which we say not only, ‘you were here first’, but ‘you are special’.
Indeed Aboriginal
people are special: when they talk of being of
(not just in) the land, or being one with
the land, they are not being wholly metaphoric. The term ‘indigenous’
emerged in English in the 1640s, having come originally from the Latin, indigena, meaning "sprung from the
land”.
As a nation of
blow-ins and boat people, we struggle with this idea. But we shouldn’t. After
all, ultimately we all come from stock indigenous to somewhere or other.
It is ironic that
the Australian ’no-special-cases’ view of fairness as a crude and basic
equality – born of tough times in a hot, hard land – impedes a subtle
understanding of equity that treats people in the light of their peculiar circumstances
and history.
But special cases demand
special treatment: average Aboriginal life expectancy is almost two decades
shorter than that of non-indigenous Australians, more than double the gap experienced
by indigenous peoples in comparable countries like New Zealand, Canada and the
USA.
No more money, no
more effort, but much better health outcomes elsewhere. What could be the
variables driving this substantial difference in life expectancy?
Constitutional
status and recognition, matched by dedicated political representation. What is needed is a
compact with Aboriginal Australia as part of the Constitution bolstered with
material political symbols of that compact.
We should adopt the
approach of New Zealand with indigenous seats in Parliament – in Australia this
could be readily accommodated by two senate seats (as were added for the ACT
and the Northern Territory) for whom indigenous people could vote as an
alternative to their state or territory senators.
Would it work? Who
knows?
Will it help improve
Aboriginal Health? It might, if the life expectancy and health outcome experiences
in New Zealand, Canada and even the USA are any guide.
We’ve tried
everything else imaginable and none of it has worked. Maybe this will.
What’s the harm in
trying? It beats fine words.
*Recognising
Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Peoples in the Constitution: Report of
the Expert Panel