Justice for Indigenous People:
Reflections on the principles that shape our personal response
Father Frank Brennan SJ AO
Australasian Christian Legal Convention
Princeton Ballroom
Bond University
4 May 2002
I will not presume to tell practising lawyers of vast experience
how to conduct themselves as solicitors, counsel or judges when
a party to proceedings happens to be Aboriginal. But the outstanding
claims of Aboriginal Australians to justice and recognition still
require political as well as legal action. There are some principles
which are applicable to those of us who are both Christian and lawyers
seeking to make some contribution to the future of indigenous Australians
in the legal, political and social domains.
Many of us are citizens who profess a personal faith and who find
ourselves called to participate in public life. Our participation
in civil society and in the political processes of the State is
a constitutive part of our faithful response to God's call. Faithful
to that call, we form, inform and follow our consciences. In the
private domain, conscience determines our actions. In the public
domain, we, in good conscience, need to take into account the difference
between law, morality and social policy. There are some actions
of others we tolerate without being able to give unqualified endorsement.
We consider means as well as ends in the political process, taking
account of public sentiment as well as public reason. In conscience,
we act and set limits on our mode of public engagement, especially
if we be perceived to be acting for others or speaking in the name
of a group. We make not only moral judgments but also prudential
decisions about when to intervene in the political processes and
when not.
Many of us Christians who engage in the political processes of
the State see ourselves called to emulate Jesus in His teachings
and actions. We discern the action of the Spirit in our hearts and
in the world, including the signs of the times. We are sustained
in the belief that there is a Kingdom to come and that there are
signs of this kingdom breaking in here and now whenever persons
freely act for justice. Acting to create a more just world, we discern
our invitation to participate in the mission of the believing community.
We need to engage in the political process, rather than being simply
prophetic observers of that process.
The last twenty years in Australian politics has been marked by
the increasing impatience of political leaders with the interventions
and concerns of church groups agitating for social justice. Political
leaders on both sides of the Australian political fence have been
very critical of church people and other private citizens acting
as advocates for social justice. Many issues have become so party
political and so simplistically reported by the media that it is
difficult for concerned citizens to know how to make an intervention.
Twice in the last fortnight I have encountered journalists surprised
that I would agree with Prime Minister Howard on an issue, though
they are usually safe in assuming that I disagree with him very
strongly on Aboriginal and refugee issues.
I was a first year law student in 1971 when Sir Richard Blackburn
gave his decision that Aborigines had no surviving rights to land
recognised by the common law. One of my fellow students asked if
he could write his annual "Land Law" essay on Aboriginal
land rights. He was told he could not, because there was no such
thing. In my second last year at school I had accompanied all my
family to Fiji where my father was appearing before Lord Dening
agitating the rights of the Fijian land holders against the Colonial
Sugar Refinery. By 1973, the Aboriginal Legal Service was up and
running in Brisbane. Mark Plunkett who later sued Sir Joh Bjelke-Petersen
for conspiracy joined me in helping out at the service one day a
week, usually acting as instructing clerks for barristers in hopeless
criminal committals. At this time, my father was senior counsel
for the Northern Land Council in the Woodward Royal Commission.
Eight years later when my father was being sworn in as a Justice
of the High Court, Attorney General peter Durack observed:
There are two events which occurred during your time at the Bar
which I think deserve special mention. The first was the case in
which you appeared for small landholders in Fiji and the result
of the case was a victory for the Fijians, which was of great significance.
The second concerned the work you did for the Northern Land Council
and the Aboriginal Land Rights Royal Commission conducted by Mr.
Justice Woodward. That report by Mr. Justice Woodward formed the
basis of legislation adopted by successive Federal Governments for
Aboriginal land rights. Many of Mr. Justice Woodward's recommendations
followed submissions you made on behalf of the Northern Land Council
and, of course, it was an investigation which had tremendous significance
for Australia's Aboriginal people.
I have always been heartened that a barrister could make such a
profound contribution to social justice, maintaining the professional
constraints of the Bar and going on to such a distinguished career
on the Bench.
Having joined the Jesuits in 1975, I was sent to the Redfern presbytery
to work with Fr Ted Kennedy for a couple of months in 1976. During
that time, I accompanied Aboriginal activist Len Watson to Canberra
to observe the passage of the Aboriginal Land Rights (Northern Territory)
Act 1976 through the Senate. In the old Parliament House, the Senate
chamber was very intimate. There were very few of us sitting in
the public gallery. Someone pointed out to me the very dignified
white haired man who sat silently consulting his notes while the
Senators expressed their knowledge of matters in which this gentleman
was so learned. This was the first time I was in the presence of
W E H Stanner. Like many of you I was influenced by his 1968 Boyer
Lectures, After the Dreaming. In 1972 he had written a
letter to one of his friends explaining his role as advocate for
Aboriginal rights, recognition and dignity. It is a letter which
I still find very inspiring and relevant to our national search
today:
Whatever happened to the Australian social conscience on
the way to the twentieth century? It has occurred to me that I
might well inquire into the fundamental reasons why we have had
to struggle so hard with ourselves to see our Aborigines in a
way that is one and the same time humane, respectful and compassionate.
I am much puzzled by one thing: that is, the bland assumption
that there MUST be some way of 'modernising' the Aborigines. Why
'must'? I believe I could make a fair case against this outlook.
As you will now be aware much of my thought has been influenced
by religious writers, or rather, philosophical writers who have
thought about religious subjects, and I can see in Australian
society more than a little of some ancient struggles about life,
death and all the vast forever as it is phrased in our transplanted
British culture. Maybe I will work on that... we have won some
huge victories (acceptance that some continuing Aboriginal societies
living on 'reserves' will have full legal title to their land
and the resources on and under it) and some small but equally
vital ones (including the principle that they may be taught to
be literate in their own languages as well as English)...There
are many influential Australians who look on me as a very misguided
romantic, if not worse, for having used whatever gifts I have
to attain these targets. All I can say is that they seemed to
me the right things to strive for. But I am not foolish or wise
enough to be certain that Aboriginal tomorrows will really be
the better for it.
In 1981, I was junior counsel in the Alwyn Peter case here in Queensland.
Alwyn was the 15th Aboriginal male in three years to have killed
another Aboriginal person on an Aboriginal reserve. In these cases,
the victim was usually the accused's woman partner. Senior Counsel,
Des Sturgess told the court that the homicide rate was the highest
recorded among any ghetto group in the western world. In each case,
the accused and the victim were shaped by life on a reserve; and
each in their own way was destroyed by it. To be a member of such
a group, one did not have to be bad or mad; one had only to be Aboriginal.
We defence lawyers had a good win in the Peter case. Having pleaded
a defence of diminished responsibility, Alwyn walked free within
weeks of the completion of the court proceedings. A woman anthropologist
left me with the chilling observation that our forensic win had
removed the one inadequate protection for defenceless women in remote
Aboriginal communities - the minimal deterrence of the whitefella
legal system. Meanwhile I was privileged to receive the last letter
that Stanner ever wrote on 4 October 1981, he having been our key
anthropological witness:
I am fascinated by the question: how do general ideas about human
conduct change so quickly? I can recall about fifty years ago appearing
as a witness for the defence in an Aboriginal murder case in Darwin
before Wells J. He was notably unimpressed by my arguments but nevertheless
reluctantly took them into account in mitigation, while looking
round the court as if expecting trouble. Or do I mean 'remarkably
quickly'?
For the last twenty years, I have been preoccupied with the interrelatedness
of Aboriginal dispossession, disadvantage and marginalisation and
I have sought to articulate a publicly coherent policy of reconciliation,
justice and recognition for indigenous Australians. But I have remained
a foreigner to so much of Aboriginal law, culture and religion.
Aboriginal law though now recognised for the first time as part
of the law of the land even in the eyes of the colonisers, has had
to survive under challenge from its own practitioners who sense
both new horizons and shifting foundations in their lives. If it
is to maintain its appeal to contemporary practitioners, the Aboriginal
religious worldview has to embrace, or at least encounter and accommodate
the worldviews of others. Aboriginal cultures are changing, being
lost and retrieved at a rate never before experienced. Aboriginal
people themselves know best that their system of law is under threat.
The breakdown of the law, the abandonment of myth and ritual, and
violence in Aboriginal communities are exacerbated by readily available
alcohol, widespread unemployment and concentrations of population
which draw together groups from various clans and language groups
for administrative convenience and economies of scale. Communities
of such size, variety and outside contact never existed previously
except for periodic ceremonial, trading and meeting purposes. As
permanent societies, they are new creations in the post-contact
era resulting from the push and pull of outside service delivery.
Such "communities" as they are felicitously, and often
erroneously, described, do not and never have had a simple or uniformly
acknowledged law, religion, or culture which could provide the basis
for a customary dispute resolution structure or process.
Aborigines are living under two laws. But one law is losing its
sanction, its appeal, its practitioners and its teachers, despite
such recent recognition by the High Court. It is becoming optional.
Some desire its continuation and transmission. Others, especially
when drunk, can opt out when it suits them or lose it when living
in a social situation where that law no longer makes whole sense
of the individual's new world filled by Toyotas, videos, satellites,
faxes, firearms, computers, internet, cash, grog, school and fast
food - all of which have their advantages and disadvantages.
Outstations are set up as sanctuaries for the preservation of the
traditional way. But there is a limit to which outstations can be
used as reform schools in the old law for youths playing up in their
communities or in town. Young men facing initiation, banishment
or some corporal punishment or young women facing a traditional
betrothal to a much older man increasingly want to opt out of the
traditional law and opt in to the system of individual choices and
liberties they see on television or in the streets of Murgon or
Brisbane. The whitefella legal system in these instances prizes
individual rights and individual freedom of choice over collective
rights of the group and the requirements for handing on a tough,
holistic law which is hard work. Aboriginal law no longer controls
every aspect of their lives. Free to choose, the young may abandon
culture even if only for short term gain or liberty. Affected by
alcohol and confronted by change, the elders may lose their confidence
and abandon their duties to the law.
Once elders are denied the power to impose their law on the young
without their consent, having already been denied the power to impose
their law's ultimate sanction even with the consent of all parties,
Aboriginal law inevitably becomes an optional way of living for
the new generations who may want to move freely between two worlds.
Customary law is of little use in disciplining the young for grog
related property and motor vehicle offences. Today, law and culture
remain strong only while they hold appeal or can be imposed without
human rights violations on the young who see and want to roam far
beyond the boundaries of their traditional country. Culture is breaking
down because, as the old say, the young are running away from ceremony.
The old law which was all-embracing is shattered by outside contact.
Some of the law may be salvageable and amendable if reshaped by
those who have a memory and a vision of the law, having the skill
and authority to impart it to the young who have geographic and
cultural choices previously unimagined. Aboriginal communities might
then keep afloat and mobile in the sea of all cultures, remaining
true to themselves and their ancestors. Imposed solutions will generate
further alienation and despair. Government with and at the request
of local communities might keep in check needless violence and even
remedy the causes embedded in a shattering colonial history. Process
and partnership are all important if indigenous communities are
to own the outcomes. I note that the Beattie government here in
Queensland, acting on recommendations of Justice Tony Fitzgerald,
is proposing tough new laws and policies to deal with alcoholism
and violence on Aboriginal communities, conceding that such measures
may even offend the Racial Discrimination Act 1975. No law or policy
will succeed unless it has the support of the local community whose
leadership is involved in the planning and implementation from the
beginning. Solutions from Brisbane or Canberra will not work. But
this does not mean that local Aboriginal leaders can just go their
own way. I make no pretence to speaking for Aborigines. Neither
have I always acted and spoken to the satisfaction of the Aboriginal
leadership. For example, during the Wik debate, ATSIC Commissioner
Geoff Clarke told the press, "We just wish he would shut his
mouth. He confuses his Christian principles with our political aspirations."
I have always insisted that political action and legal change for
indigenous rights require answers to four discrete questions. What
do Aborigines want? Only they can answer that question. A united
stand and unanimous viewpoint are unlikely. Which Aboriginal aspirations
are morally justified? An answer can come only from dialogue across
racial boundaries. Which morally justified aspirations are politically
achievable? Dispossessed, disadvantaged, marginalised individuals
may not be those best situated to answer this question. To which
of these aspirations will I dedicate my energies? That is a matter
for personal resolution.
The Mabo case changed much of the public understanding about Aboriginal
rights in Australia. It was also the first and only time that Aborigines
came to the negotiating table with a handful of trump cards. Government
had to deal with the Aboriginal leaders seriously. One of the nation's
leading law firms invited me to address their senior partners' annual
retreat about land rights after the High Court decision. The person
introducing me made the gratuitous observation that he did not think
Mabo changed anything but that it would be good to hear about it
anyway. I observed that it would have been unthinkable that I, a
Jesuit priest committed to Aboriginal rights, would have been invited
to such a retreat prior to Mabo, and that prior to Mabo my work
was usually described as politics but now it was viewed as law.
After the 1993 native title exercise, Noel Pearson offered a very
enlightening public critique of my public modus operandi:
I always have a go at Frank for being too cynical about politicians.
Sadly, white politicians seem to find it easier to talk about
Aboriginal issues with someone like them. It's more comfortable
for them to talk to someone like Frank than to come and talk to
us. He's a very influential player, and if he suggests the middle
ground as the position for politicians to take, then what actually
happens is less than that. I think he doesn't realise how much
weight white politicians put on his imprimatur. He tells them
what they can get away with. It's important that he doesn't aim
too low, because inevitably he will get less than he asks for,
and it can drag the aspirations of the Aboriginal people down.
Still, I am always saying that if black people think Brennan is
striking an unacceptably conservative position, then it's up to
them to articulate how a less conservative position might work.
In the thick of the Wik controversy, Aden Ridgeway wrote to The
Sydney Morning Herald putting it this way:
There is no doubt that Fr Brennan has immense respect and
affection amongst Aboriginal people throughout the country. More
significantly, he is widely listened to by Australians generally
because he is believed to speak for Aboriginal people. This has
created a desperately difficult dilemma for indigenous leaders.
Fr Brennan's support and advocacy are much needed; but where he
takes a stand which differs from that of Aboriginal people themselves,
especially over difficult issues of political judgment, the very
fact that he is believed by the general community to speak for
Aborigines suggests that he should be silent on such topics.
Given 20 years of involvement in the politics of Aboriginal rights,
I find Aboriginal critiques of my own actions as a church person
in the public forum a useful starting point for reflection. It is
for others to judge whether I have transgressed the limits, having
earned Paul Keating's description as the "meddling priest".
In politics as it is played in Australia, there has been a presumption
that it is only the stakeholders such as Aborigines, miners and
pastoralists who should be heard in the fray of political debate.
There is a place for the person who is not a stakeholder, who represents
no constituency, who pushes no partisan barrow, who is professionally
disinterested in which party is in power, and who is committed to
finding a just resolution of conflicting claims holding in right
balance the conflicting claims of the stakeholders and finessing
the balance between individual rights and the common good or public
interest. I am especially grateful to the pastoralist who urged
me during the Wik debate to return to my church and say prayers.
He clarified my thinking. An issue as complex as Wik could not be
left only to the stakeholders. It could not be resolved by prayer
alone. There is a place for honest brokers. Being neither a native
titleholder, miner nor pastoralist, I was very privileged to participate
in that debate.
If we political actors are to act in the name of a church or to
act in such a way that we are likely to be perceived as acting in
the name of a church, we need to transcend party politics and the
self-interest of the politicians. We need to take seriously our
role in the political processes of a free, pluralistic democratic
society. We need to put ourselves forward not just as Australians
but also as citizens of the world who have a practical, informed
concern for our neighbour.
There is often insufficient consideration by those of us speaking
and acting in the name of churches about matters of political morality.
By the time Wik got to the Senate the third time, the question was
not primarily, "What ought the law be?" The question was
"To what extent was one independent Tasmanian Senator entitled
and able to amend the government's proposals honouring the limits
on the Senate and the significance of the proposed legislation?"
Some church personnel who were strong supporters of Aboriginal rights
were adamant that the Senate should reject the government's Bill
out of hand, even though they were of the Keating school of thought
that the Senate is unrepresentative swill. In the 1997 euthanasia
debate, many church people thought the crucial Senate vote should
have focussed on the morality of euthanasia. But the Northern Territory
legislature had already passed a law permitting euthanasia. The
more pressing question was "In what circumstances was the federal
Parliament justified in overriding a law of the Northern Territory
legislature?"
Of course there will always be Christians who seek elected office
as members of political parties; other Christians will act as public
advocates for a particular just cause. But those of us publicly
identified as Church people active in the political process of the
State have to be principled pragmatists who are always prepared
to articulate the moral principles on which our preferred outcome
is premised, professionally disinterested in which party is in power,
consistent in our articulation of the parameters on power to be
exercised by the various cogs in the machinery of State, calculating
in our assessment of what is achievable, and unstinting and impartial
in our efforts to achieve the outcome. If social conscience is an
expression of the believer's right to participate fully in society,
the believer must be prepared to have dialogue with anyone and to
welcome any intervention made in good faith.
I have a strong belief in political morality which is binding on
all persons who want to engage in the political process for the
betterment of themselves, their group and others in society. Fundamental
principles of that political morality were breached during the Wik
debate. From the beginning, we all knew that Wik would be resolved
in the Senate. Brian Harradine had the balance of power. As with
Mabo in 1993, Aborigines would get two bites of the cherry in the
political process dealing directly with government prior to the
introduction of legislation in the House of Representatives and
then dealing with those holding the balance of power in the Senate.
Harradine made it clear at the commencement of the first of three
Senate debate that he would pass the substance of government legislation
provided it measured up to fundamental moral principles. He also
made it clear that he did not want to risk a double dissolution
of the parliament which could lead to a race based election with
"One Nation" running a scare campaign if the Senate were
to reject the ten point plan outright. Those were the parameters
set at the outset by Harradine. I happen to believe he was right
in setting those parameters and I said so at the time. Howard would
have won a double dissolution election in 1998 and "One Nation"
would have had the balance of power in the Senate. The ten-point
plan would have been passed unamended without the 16 top up points
Harradine extracted.
From the beginning of the Wik debate, I expressed the view that
Aboriginal groups should follow the same rules as they did during
the Mabo debate. They should engage with the government as closely
as possible in Phase I and then deal with the minor parties in Phase
II. The National Indigenous Working Group was not much interested
in that approach as revealed by two facts: they hired an ex-Labor
member (who was waiting to return as a Labor member) as their special
political consultant. Imagine hiring an ex-Liberal politician as
your consultant to deal with Paul Keating! Then they did a deal
so that their two QCs would also be available as legal advisers
to the Labor Party. Imagine telling Keating in 1993 that your lawyer
was also the lawyer for the Liberal Party! So from the beginning,
I knew we were in for a difficult time with a key stakeholder throwing
the first rules of political wisdom to the wind.
Early in the debate, I put it to Noel Pearson that Aboriginal
leaders had a difficult political choice given their insistence
that the right to negotiate with mining companies was the main sticking
point on which they had decided to take their stand. I suggested
that it would be necessary to choose between a once only right to
negotiate exercisable by all native title holders including those
on pastoral leases or a two fold right to negotiate being exercisable
only by native title holders on vacant crown land, with native titleholders
on pastoral leases having the same rights as pastoralists. Noel
was not much interested in the choice. Thereafter, there was very
little substantive discussion between me and the Aboriginal leaders.
During the first Senate debate, the Labor Party conducted itself
as if it were the government proposing more amendments than they
had to any other piece of legislation. This was a high-risk strategy
because the Howard technique for winding back the right to negotiate
was to leave the matter with the States. No matter what the rhetoric
of federal Labor, State Labor (especially where it had some prospect
of coming into government as in Queensland) was not much interested
in the rhetoric of the Left. With Labor governments now in power
in all states, there would be no impediment to a nationwide restoration
of the two-fold right to negotiate for all native titleholders.
But no one seems much interested.
Before the second Senate debate in 1998, the word in Canberra
was that some compromise was possible on the right to negotiate.
Gatjil Djerrkura gave a press conference saying there could be a
way forward. Nick Minchin's office asked me to draft it. I would
not touch it "seeing it as no part of my role. Then before
we knew it, the compromise was drafted by the two ALP/National Indigenous
Working Group QCs. Their draft was given to Harradine on a wink
and a nod by the Labor Party. If Harradine could convince Howard,
there might be a chance of finding a resolution. Harradine had about
five meetings with Howard seeking the compromise. Howard could not
agree" Borbidge and Court would not let him. Margot Kingston
wrote an article in the SMH telling how the compromise was drafted
by the ALP/National Indigenous Working Group QCs. So the second
Senate debate ended with no legislation being passed. Normally that
would be the end of the matter until after another election. Harradine
rightly predicted, "They'll be back."
Then came the 1998 Queensland election. Beattie got over the line
and One Nation did very well. This was the double pincer move needed
to bring Howard to the table on the compromise. I urged Harradine
to strike while the iron was hot. While I was overseas, Tony Abbott
phoned urging me home because no deal would be done without my presence.
Fortunately I had heard a report that Ambassador Andrew Peacock
in Washington had complained that Wik was a mess because I had failed
"to deliver Harradine" and I was unreliable and untrustworthy.
So I decided not to change my plans. I was in no hurry to return.
I then went on to Jakarta where I received a media phone call at
4am to ask what I thought of the deal. I pleaded ignorance. Some
hours later the Sydney Morning Herald faxed me the exchange of letters
between Howard and Harradine. I then wrote to Harradine congratulating
him on delivering the compromise (and some more) to Aboriginal Australia.
I also wrote an op-ed piece for the Sydney Morning Herald. While
I flew through the night back to Australia, Noel Pearson went public
with his congratulations of Harradine who had won the penalty shoot
out.
When I arrived home that morning, Paul Keating rang me and abused
me. I then spoke at a church dinner that night being forewarned
that Keating and Laurie Brereton (still a Labor frontbencher at
the time) were working on a piece criticising me. Then Noel Pearson
changed his tune after discussions with other Aboriginal leaders.
The compromise originally sought by the Aboriginal leadership and
drafted by their lawyers was labelled a sell-out which was the responsibility
of Harradine and anyone who had ever spoken to him!
Through the Wik debate, as through the Mabo debate, I followed
two rules: I would talk to anyone; and I would only go where I was
invited. On each occasion I dealt with and respected each government
as the government of the day. I spoke with all politicians and all
stakeholders who were seeking a resolution and my assistance. Having
been involved in these political issues for 20 years, I had no interest
in backing the Left of the Labor Party simply because it was the
Left of the Labor Party. I pride myself on the claim that I have
never done anything in public life to favour one political party
over another. My concern is the justice of the issue and the propriety
of the process, not the name of the party. I have always proclaimed
the justice of the Aboriginal cause, tried to deal honourably with
the government of the day, and left it to Aboriginal leaders to
decide the key terms of compromise. As with the debate over the
Racial Discrimination Act and Wik, I simply insisted that Aborigines
should apply the same standard to the Howard government as they
did to the Keating government.
I rehearse much of my own involvement in the political and legal
controversy of Aboriginal rights in recent years only to provide
the basis for the principles which I have sought to apply. It will
be for others to judge my success or faithfulness to those principles.
Though mostly involved with other issues now, I am delighted that
in the last week I have received phone calls from three Aboriginal
communities in remote Australia - community leaders seeking a listening
ear and a voice of experience, a whitefella prepared to listen respectfully,
to tell it straight as he understands it, and to stand in solidarity
but only to the extent that he thinks the claims to be right and
true. In an increasingly pluralistic Australia, the endless search
for coherence will require some enhanced agreement about the rules
of engagement in the public square. Individual players will always
seek greater coherence between their own personal morality and the
public morality of process and outcomes in the square where all
citizens ought be equally at home and equally alienated regardless
of their world view, whether their view be that there can not be
any comprehensive world view or that there can be a religiously
informed world view sustained by their religious tradition. It is
irrelevant whether ones thin or thick notion of the common good
and public interest wins majority support. Liberalism must at least
concede the entitlement to participate unapologetically to all actors
in the square including the person who is convinced of a thick notion
of the good, who is seeking a community of reasoned interlocutors
and who is convinced that the good and the right are such because
they are true and because they are the gift of a loving creator
God whose activity is not restricted to the realm of private conscience,
home and the church and not because they are simply the preference
of the constitutional majority in a polity which ranks community
interest below individual choice. I have been very privileged to
work as a lawyer and priest for Aboriginal rights all these years
and I am delighted to have this opportunity to give an account of
myself, hoping that even reflection on my mistakes will be an aid
to other Christian lawyers committed to justice for indigenous Australians
as we prepare to celebrate the tenth anniversary of the High Court
decision which even the public now perceive to be the vibe of the
Constitution. Let's thank God that even our present Prime Minister
with his gift of hindsight has said: "The substance of [the
Mabo] decision, now with the passage of time, seems completely unexceptionable
to me. It appears to have been based on a good deal of logic and
fairness and proper principle." We have come a long way since
1971. Like Stanner we can share the fascination in how general ideas
about human conduct change so quickly. Like Stanner, we are not
foolish or wise enough to be certain that Aboriginal tomorrows will
really be the better for it. But together we so hope.
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