Today I’m an extremely reluctant Yes. I’m not happy about it; I feel compromised. But life in the colony is constantly compromised, and there’s rarely a “win” for First Nations movements that doesn’t feel bittersweet.
Yesterday I was a No: what some call the “progressive No”, but I would call the “Blackfulla No” (excluding Jacinta Nampijinpa Price and Nyunggai Warren Mundine, who don’t represent my views).
We as First Nations peoples have been forced into binary thinking, a characteristic of white supremacy. In reality, the fight for First Nations justice is so much greater and more complicated than a Yes or a No vote: it’s 250 years of genocide, land theft, stolen children, stolen wages and discrimination. It’s a young Noongar boy killed on the way home from school in broad daylight. Our trans sister girls and brother boys, our women and their babies: stolen, abused, missing and murdered. It’s the years-long waiting lists for public housing. It’s every young Blackfulla locked up in prison. It’s the 500-plus bodies of Blackfullas who continue to pile up, murdered by police and prison officers — business as usual for the colony.
It feels out of step with my values that to write Yes, I’ll be voting with mining companies such as Rio Tinto, which has donated $2 million to the Yes campaign as it simultaneously destroys sacred sites in the Pilbara. I’m sure Rio Tinto will report the donation in its reconciliation action plan. Meanwhile, the Torres Strait Islands are sinking due to climate change that Rio Tinto is accelerating, and the cultural heritage laws in WA have been abandoned.
The Blackfulla No
I fully agree with and understand the Blackfulla No vote, as articulated by the Blak Sovereign Movement, Senator Lidia Thorpe, Michael Mansell, Robbie Thorpe, the Brissy Blacks and Ruby Wharton, to name only a few.
The Blackfulla No in this debate is truth-telling about our experiences, and I don’t agree with those who minimise or discredit it. These valid critiques highlight the many reasons we distrust governments, and show the alternative possibilities for change.
Having been involved in negotiations between Aboriginal peak bodies and the federal government, I’d argue there can never be a fair negotiation when one party holds all the money, the data, the land and the power. Gregory Phillips suggests the Voice proposal can be considered “merely another example of state power appearing benevolent while maintaining power and abuse”, as poverty thinking. It’s fighting for crumbs. The Voice is palatable because it’s what Gary Foley likens to “a ‘feel good vote’: an exercise that made white people feel good about themselves”.
On the other hand, to write No is in line with the racist No campaign, which is spreading hate against us. Conservatives are backing it with millions of dollars. As Adam Briggs has said: “Not everyone who’s voting No is racist. But every racist will be voting No.” I agree with Professor Chelsea Watego, that a Yes vote is also racist in relation to the “violence of Blak reform”. It is recognition for a racist constitution, in a democracy that does not respect Blak sovereignty. This government pushed ahead knowing that many mob have never heard of the Voice, we haven’t had enough spaces to yarn it through ourselves, and many will not have their vote counted.
As Millie Telford says, it feels like this vote is “being done to us, not with us”. Self-determination is not 97% of the population voting on what they think is best for 3% of a sovereign people.
I couldn’t bring myself to attend a Yes campaign march. Seeing my feed full of well-meaning white people smiling with their Yes banners, I felt the same way Sissy Austin did when she described the day the referendum was announced: “White saviour self-proclaimed allies celebrating and Blakfullas feeling an insurmountable feeling of powerlessness.” There is so much wrong with this campaign when some of our best Blak campaigners and activists feel alienated. When Yes campaigners are yelling patriotic chants at rallies. I’m concerned this is encouraging a new generation of paternalistic “allies” who “know what’s best for us”, which has historically been a significant barrier to exercising sovereignty.
If the result is No
If the result is No, I resonate with what Ben Abbatangelo has said about what comes next: “We must as a collective say goodbye to reconciliation, and usher in an era of reckoning.” If there’s a No result, we can stop pretending that so-called Australia is anything but a racist nation. Good riddance to the reconciliation era: the painfully extended Acknowledgements of Country, the Reconciliation Week morning teas, the pats on the back for walking across the bridge, the black squares for Black Lives Matter. Where has it got us?
A No result will hardly be the end of our movements; we will come back stronger, more determined and more radical than ever. As Meriki Onus has put it, the Voice is just the latest in a long history of mechanisms for self-determination that we’ve fought for and tried over the years of Aboriginal resistance.
So I’m writing Yes, even though I feel compromised — for transformative change beyond the referendum. I respect mob who are writing No or abstaining. I don’t have hope that the Voice is going to be the catalyst for systemic change. But I do believe in the power of our mob.
In the words of GetUp CEO Larissa Baldwin-Roberts, the Voice is pragmatically a representative body, and representation matters. I’m an organiser and a campaigner, and I can see the potential for us to use the Voice to help us build our power across the country. Platforms to replace the harmful narratives of us in the media with truth-telling, for coordinating support for each other’s struggles in a resourced way; to demand action on Treaty, land back, climate justice, cultural heritage protection, health outcomes, ending Black deaths in custody and abolishing prisons.
The challenge beyond Yes
Personally, I agree with Tarneen Onus-Browne that settlers (non-Indigenous people) should be writing Yes. It’s not enough, but it’s a step. Our people are still dying, islands sinking, sacred sites destroyed, children being removed and locked up.
It’s after the referendum when the hard work must continue. It’s not enough to write Yes. I need you to show up at the next Stop Black Deaths in Custody rally.
I challenge Yes voters to condemn Parliament when it tries to water down the (already non-existent) powers of the Voice in its founding legislation. Or begins defunding the Voice, ignoring its advice, or trying to silence or control the Voice. This is what successive governments have previously done with the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Commission, Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peak bodies, community-controlled organisations and National Aboriginal Congress.
I ask you to demand more when Parliament inevitably says that while it hears our concerns, but it doesn’t have the levers to make that change, as it’s the states’ responsibility — and there’s no action. I ask you to see through the media’s strategy of pitting Blackfullas in the Voice against one another, to divide and conquer our people.
To all the mob, I have so much love for you, regardless of how you vote and how this damaging referendum turns out. In Nessa Turnbull-Roberts’ words: “Now we have to hold each other with love, community care and strength. This will get loud, violent and harmful.”
Look after yourselves and each other, plan ahead for the day (try voting early so you don’t have to deal with racists or well-meaning whites). Be with mob, reach out for support if you need it. We’ll get through this, and continue the fight our ancestors began.
First, Binary thinking is a cognitive process that can be found in all cultures in one form or another. The idea that it is absent from all First Nations peoples and forced on them by white supremacy is a pretty bold claim.
Second, I think the author makes some strong points but I’m not sure what she thinks is the alternative to building a coalition that involves Rio Tinto and *gasp* “well meaning whites”. Sure it might be satisfying if Rio Tinto played a cartoon villain and opposed the voice, but they didn’t, and they have put up money to make it happen. Collective action is only ever possible with compromise and accepting allies you might not like. Frankly, it is the only way lasting progress is achieved.
So, apart from a semantic niggle, you agree with her. That’s progress, I suppose.
the reference to “well-meaning whites” gets used quite a lot, and the problem with it is: if i am white, no matter what i do to support indigenous causes, no matter what stance i take, at the end of the day i will still be white – and open to the same criticism. it’s a total no-win.
indigenous people have suffered terribly at the hands of the white colonisers, but the non-indigenous of today who recognise the wrongs and want to make amends, they will be the key group in carrying a yes vote, because of their sheer numbers in the population.
if “white guilt” is part reason for their desire to make amends – even if it’s the WHOLE reason – so what? What’s the alternative perfect state of mind that gives whitey a pass-card, before they are allowed to try to be part of the solution?
or maybe it’s a chance to begrudgingly let the non-indigenous join the cause, while still reserving the right to give them a slap on the back of the head for a while longer?
I get that, but strategically speaking, it’s not a great way to capture hearts and minds.
I don’t know, Glenn. I don’t feel the same defensiveness when I hear the phrase “well-meaning whites”. Possibly because I read a little further along in the same paragraph:
I felt the same way Sissy Austin did when she described the day the referendum was announced: “White saviour self-proclaimed allies celebrating and Blakfullas feeling an insurmountable feeling of powerlessness.” There is so much wrong with this campaign when some of our best Blak campaigners and activists feel alienated. When Yes campaigners are yelling patriotic chants at rallies. I’m concerned this is encouraging a new generation of paternalistic “allies” who “know what’s best for us”, which has historically been a significant barrier to exercising sovereignty.
My vibe is that if you are able to listen to Blak people – really listen, even if you have your preconceptions destroyed in the process – and accept what they say, then you’re less likely to be pigeon-holed as a “well-meaning white”. But personally, I’d be worried more about Blak discomfort than my discomfort in the circumstances.
Peter, it’s not personal discomfort or defensiveness that is the issue, it’s the potential effect it may have on the vote.
You want to create a momentum, you want morale to be strong, you don’t achieve that by telling the majority of voters you need, that they’re being sanctimonious/patronising/driven by guilt, whatever.
Even if you think they are!
What purpose does it serve? Can’t that be a discussion for another day, after this particular battle is over?
I must be reading a different article to you then, Glenn, if you really think that it’s saying “by telling the majority of voters you need, that they’re being sanctimonious/patronising/driven by guilt, whatever”. Could I humbly suggest that there have been a certain subset of insufferable white people – especially on social media – who haven’t handled it well when Blak people show reluctance or ambivalence about the Voice (let alone when they show negativity). I’ve seen a lot of it on Twitter. Maybe Roxanne is talking about them, perhaps?
I also wonder why you are concerned about the “potential effect it may have on the vote”. Let’s leave aside that all of the polls for the voice are in “1972 McGovern versus Nixon” levels, the referendum is only a week away, and Crikey is by no means a mass-market medium. Isn’t an Indigenous lady allowed to express her views of reluctant and ambivalent support for Yes?
Nobody is trying to suppress any indigenous voice.
Any publicly aired opinions etc. are and should be in a democracy, open to discussion and even disagreement, even if only to point out the perceived tactical flaws in their opinions.
Being in general agreement with the aims does not preclude that.
Peter, possibly i have not made this clear enough – my comments are a general observation, not specifically about this article, but prompted by it – on the usage of “well meaning whites/white guilt” in commentary about the referendum, at large.
I’m not saying that this one article is going to have some sort of devastating effect on the whole show.
And yes, the writer is absolutely allowed to express her views of reluctance and ambivalence. I can’t see how anyone’s comments have stopped the writer’s views from being expressed. We’ve all just read those views.
But can i ask you – why do you think Crikey have a forum for comments and discussion after their articles, if not for readers to make comments and have discussions, after having read the piece?
I feel for you Roxanne. I am white, of an older generation, and an immigrant. My YES vote is my way of showing support for First Nations peoples, as it seems to be the only thing I can do right now. The Uluru Statement was authored by Indigenous peoples, and this referendum is a result of the requests that beautiful piece of poetry made of the Australian people, I am voting in a show of my belief in you, not because I want to feel better about myself.
You’re writing Yes, but not happy with it. So am I, and I’m a straight, white, old man, also an invader, living not too far from Juukan. If the referendum was about your list of needs, such as closing down the prisons, I’d still write Yes. If it was to hand everything back to you, entirely, and for your mob to form national government, I’d write Yes, but only with about a hundred others. (You’d do a better job than my mob of whites, imo.) But it’s not, it’s about a limited objective, which I believe your mob requested, with great wisdom, generosity and undeserved respect for us. I’m not writing yes to make myself feel good. I’m writing yes because I would give you almost anything your mob asks for. Because it is just and true. If the referendum fails it does not mean that we’re a nation of racists, either, as you say. It only means that most people do not vote for referendums when the issue is politically split, especially, in this one, when they don’t have knowledge of black history, and conditions now. Plus, our LNP politicians are mostly racists who feel it is right to continue the tradition of the white boot on the black neck, whatever they say, much to my disgust.
Three things: Voice, Truth, Treaty. If Voice fails, then so what? Let’s move on to Truth.
The things you KNOW are sufficient to start a civil war, sure. But, at the risk of being a white telling you what is best for you(!), a shooting war is not the way forward. Save the bitter anger for the truth telling.
I have been marching in the streets, signing petitions, walking with people in need of support, holding up banners, (sometimes even sewing them, like the women who sewed the Eureka flag, as their subversive protest against oppression), for over 60 years.
I remember the sense of outrage I felt in the 1967 referendum, at the injustices that existed for our indigenous peoples…and that I was not old enough to have my voice heard and be able to vote Yes that time around…so now I’ll say it loud and clear…YES
EVERYBODY MATTERS! We all deserve to be heard, to be able to speak into a safe and receptive space, to be treated with dignity, respect and compassion, and we have a shared responsibility to heal the past and care for the land we walk upon…so please listen!
Surely that is enough to keep us all gainfully occupied for the immediate future, if humanity is to have one!