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Witnessing the Stolen Generations
When Bringing them Home, the report of the Human Rights and Equal Opportunity Commission (HREOC) National Inquiry into the Separation of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Children from Their Families, was released in May 1997, its findings were circulated widely in the Australian media. The press, in particular, played a crucial role in communicating the effects of child removal to the public. Typically, this was achieved through the publication of extracts of testimony included in the report and summaries of its recommendations. However, beyond simply reporting the HREOCâs findings, commentary in major newspapers sought to encourage settler Australians to witness to Bringing them Home. To do so, numerous journalists and opinion columnists promoted reconciliation as central to fin-de-siècle national renewal. In a paradigmatic editorial, the Age wrote that
the removal of Aboriginal children constituted one of the most tragic and traumatic episodes in our history. As a nation, we must own it. We must acknowledge that it was a terrible error, we must recognise the damage it has done, and we must apologise. We claim, with good reason, to be a more sophisticated society now than when we implemented these policies. A sign of that maturity would be to face up to this issue and to try to make amends as best we can . . . It is about helping to clear the national slate of this centuryâs mistakes so that we might face the next together, rather than from across a great divide.1
For the Melbourne-based Age, witnessing to Bringing them Home was tied explicitly to the end of the century. As an historical âturning point,â the Fin de siècle, and the concomitant centenary of federation, provided a symbolic opportunity for the nation to demonstrate its âmaturity.â The need to witness to the stolen generations was central to this expression of cultural and political âsophistication.â Here, the stolen generations figured as a âtraumatic episodeâ that should be worked through, collectively, to clear âthe national slate of this centuryâs mistakesâ. Within this national teleology, progression was dependent on the willingness of settler Australians to ârecognizeâ the suffering of Indigenous Australians and take responsibility, on behalf of previous generations, for the policies of child removal.
Reflecting on the 1901 federation of Australian states, Helen Irving wrote of âthe strange, almost surreal optimism that accompanies the end of one century and the anticipation of anotherâ.2 âAs with other great temporal milestones,â she argued, â. . . a new century is experienced by many as a time when change is both possible and expected, when the routine and predictable may be set asideâ.3 For Irving, the Fin de siècle was not the cause of federation per se. Rather, âit encouraged the will to achieve Federation to emerge.â4 Similarly, for many Australians, the turn of the twenty-first century provided an opportunity to take stock of the nation and consider both the legacies of the past and the possibilities of the future.
The moment between 1997 and 2001 was, undoubtedly, the zenith of Australiaâs popular reconciliation movement. Alongside the release of Bringing them Home, a series of major events clustered around this period, including, in 1999, the Australian republic referendum; in 2000, the Sydney Olympic Games and the winding up of the Council for Aboriginal Reconciliation (CAR), the end of the âofficialâ reconciliation process; and in 2001, the centenary of federation. As key moments within the ânarrativeâ of Australian nationalism, all drew on the symbolic power of the end of the century, whether to celebrate the achievements of the nation or to propose change.5 The imperative to advance reconciliation between Indigenous and non-Indigenous Australians was common to calls for change, and hinged on the need for settler Australians to witness to Aboriginal testimony.
Though this time was marked by fierce public debate over the meanings of Indigenous stories, it was a period that also saw hundreds of thousands of individuals express their own apologies to the stolen generations through numerous acts of public witnessing. Signing âSorry Booksâ and attending reconciliation walks were two of the most popular and publicly visible ways âordinaryâ settler Australians chose to witness to the nationâs history of Indigenous dispossession. Similarly, many of Australiaâs prominent public intellectuals, artists, and critics spoke out in favor of reconciliation and an apology. In a direct challenge to the Howard Federal Government, a large minority of settler Australians understood witnessing not simply as a personal act, but also as a contribution to a collective, national process of confronting the past.
In this way, Bringing them Home became a site for the contestation of broader, collective truths, irrevocably changing the present ground of history making. Indeed, no other event in contemporary Australian sociopolitical life has necessitated such a profound reorientation of national history. The Mabo case was a landmark legal achievement, and, as such, has been oft cited as a turning point in the reconsideration of Australian history; whereas Bringing them Home captured the attention of âordinaryâ Australians in a far more direct fashion.6 It did this precisely, because it invited the attentionâand, more importantly, the responseâof settler Australians. The report collated and mediated stolen generationsâ testimony in such a way that it worked to elicit an empathetic response in its implied audience: Settler Australians signed Sorry Books and participated in reconciliation marches as a part of their own response and apology. Unlike the Mabo (1992) proceedings, which aroused the interest and criticism of many Australians but did not require their participation or assent, the reconciliation discourse centered on Bringing them Home produced a participatory occasion. The significance of Bringing them Home, then, lay in the way that it precipitated the development of a community of witnessesâa community bound by a shared commitment to recognizing the broader historical and cultural implications of stolen generationsâ testimony.
Although the discourse of reconciliation has been widely critiqued for its vagueness, I argue that the concept of witnessing was central to the way it functioned during the late 1990s.7 The authors of Bringing them Home explicitly positioned witnessing as the core imperative of reading Indigenous testimony. To this end, the report promoted witnessing as a process that involved both recognition of the pain of the stolen generations and a broader engagement with the legacies of child removal. The report argued that
in no sense has the Inquiry been âraking over the pastâ for its own sake. The truth is that the past is very much with us today, in the continuing devastation of the lives of Indigenous Australians. That devastation cannot be addressed unless the whole community listens with an open heart and mind to the stories of what has happened in the past and, having listened and understood, commits itself to reconciliation.8
Here, witnessing was established as the starting place for reconciliation. In order for Indigenous and non-Indigenous Australians to come to terms with the past, the testimony of the stolen generations needed to be affirmed thorough a process of empathetic witnessing. To hear, and respond, was to contribute to historical change in the present; to play a pivotal role in âhealing and reconciliation for the benefit of all Australiansâ.9
Although the report stressed that this was the responsibility of the âwhole community,â the implication was that witnessing was, in fact, the task of settler Australians, as it was this community who had not previously âlistened and understoodâ the history of child removal. In its âAustralian Declaration Towards Reconciliation,â the Council for Aboriginal Reconciliation (CAR)âthe government body charged with advancing reconciliation between 1991 and 2000âfigured reconciliation as a process that was grounded in witnessing.10 CAR understood reconciliation as a dialogic process fueled by an exchange between the Indigenous testifier and the settler witness: âone part of the nation apologises and expresses its sorrow and sincere regret for the injustices of the past, so the other part accepts the apology and forgivesâ.11 The decision to âown the truthâ of the stolen generations through witnessing would pave the way for a future in which all Australians could overcome the past and âmove on together at peace with ourselvesâ.12 For CAR, the architects of popular reconciliation, witnessing was the key to healing for both individuals and the nation.
Accordingly, this chapter focuses on the actions of those settler Australians who adopted the challenge of reconciliation and worked to listen to Indigenous testimony âwith an open heart and mind.â It builds on the now extensive critical response to Bringing them Home to explore the diversity of settler Australiansâ public responses to stolen generationsâ testimony. It examines both collective events, such as CARâs year 2000 Sydney Bridge walk for reconciliation, and the acts of witnessing performed by prominent individuals, such as Robert Manne and Raimond Gaita. Broadly, I consider how a culture of witnessing to Aboriginal experience developed to produce a counter-public of settler Australians committed to reconciliation. To be clear, my focus is on the development of a settler audience for stolen generationsâ testimony. My suggestion is that Bringing them Home served as a moment of coalescence, building on earlier responses to Aboriginal testimony to figure witnessing as a preeminent mode of ethical citizenship.
Bringing them Home was ostensibly a vehicle for the voices of the stolen generations to be heard publicly, and it was also crucial in the development of a contemporary discourse on settler virtue. In witnessing to the dispossession and violence of the past, settler Australiansâthrough their expressions of shame, contrition, and complicityâwere, in fact, engaged in a performance of ethical citizenship in the present. By recognizing and taking steps to ameliorate the âmistakesâ of the past, many forms of public witnessing provided a way for settler Australians to reaffirm the supposedly core national values of egalitarianism and a fair go. Thus, Bringing them Home not only posed a challenge to the settler nation by exposing the violence committed against Aboriginal children, but also, somewhat paradoxically, provided the grounds for the recuperation of that national community.
Accordingly, in examining the role of witnessing in the reproduction of settler identity, I also explore its ambivalence. Although witnessing has been understood by theorists of testimony as a vital component of the testimonial process, there exist a variety of ways in which witnessing may actually be performed.13 Witnessing is often figured as a dialogic exchange, and it has also frequently contributed to individual and collective action that actually works to foreclose, rather than enhance, intersubjective dialogue. Indeed, if witnessing is, as a process, oriented toward an engagement with the demands of the other, the desire to witness to Aboriginal testimony has also provoked an inward turn, and a great deal of âsoul searchingâ on the part of many settler Australians.
As a result, I address the way that stolen generationsâ testimony has fueled a broad, somewhat diffuse phenomenon of settler witnessing that has, largely, become estranged from any engagement wi...