HUMAN rights is a term now rich with
political connotations; it has polarised the community, arguably
contributing to a degree of national insecurity; embarrassment
even. High-profile lawyer and Jesuit priest Father Frank Brennan
and Human Rights and Equal Opportunity Commission President
John von Doussa have attempted to find a middle path through
such divisiveness and present a rational way forward. They
claim their propositions would enable Australia to redeem
its international reputation and reinvent itself as a nation
that truly respects the individual.
Frank Brennan wears the label “meddling priest”
as something of a badge of honour. His most recent book, Tampering
with Asylum (launched in Adelaide by dedicated supporter of
asylum seekers, Lowitja O’Donoghue), will reaffirm his
label among those in government who would prefer less scrutiny
of their actions. The book is a probing, articulate assessment
of what he describes as Australia’s massive overreaction
to the fourth wave – but surely not the last wave -
of boat people to these shores. Put simply, Brennan believes
Australians have allowed themselves to be easily spooked,
a view reinforced by John von Doussa.
In 200 pages, Brennan considers the 1951 Convention on Refugees
and how it relates to today. He deconstructs the history of
Australia’s detention system, crusading against former
Labor governments as well as the incumbent. He exposes the
political manoeuvring around the Tampa crisis and border control.
He compares Australia’s policies with those of Europe
and the United States in the treatment of refugees, arguing
Australia can do much better. He examines the relationship
between Parliament and the courts, arguing the absence of
a Bill of Rights leaves the government much more free to interfere
with the human rights of asylum seekers, sans judicial supervision.
In closing he offers a raft of solutions that he says would
enable Australia to be a warm-hearted, decent international
citizen once again.
Brennan contends there is no coherent rationale for ongoing
detention of asylum seekers, pointing out that 90 per cent
of those from Iraq and Iran have been found to be legitimate
refugees and processing their claims would be easier without
the impediments of detention. The numbers are tiny compared
to the global numbers of displaced, asylum seeker movements
elsewhere, even after including the 60,000 overstayers who
come to Australia each year by plane, not boat.
While acknowledging the government must be able to hold people
just long enough for health and security checks, he dismisses
the idea of detention as a deterrent on the basis that no
Australian deterrent will ever match the horror of Saddam
Hussein or the Taliban from which these people fled. In fact,
the book is littered with references to government actions
he supports, and acknowledgment of policies he believes to
be legitimate. Even so, there’s no concealing the depth
of disappointment, anger and resentfulness he harbours against
the government’s overall handling of this issue. One
couldn’t say Brennan is impartial but he is passionate
in his convictions and cogent in his arguments for reform.
At the same time he’s a realist, and says that if detention
is to remain a cornerstone of Australian border protection
and front door immigration entry, there is a need for alternative
arrangements to render the present detention policy more humane
and effective. In his words, it is time to stop tampering
with asylum and grant protection decently to those who deserve
that protection.
This is far from light reading; more a comprehensive historical
assessment and critical analysis, culminating in his blueprint
for a better, fairer system. It won’t be read nearly
enough by the bulk of Australians who deserve to be better
informed on this issue. However, this is the sort of book
destined to be an oft-quoted and valuable reference; it should
stand as a yardstick against which future policies will be
judged by rational-thinking Australians.
Like Brennan, John von Doussa believes that changing hearts
and minds at a grassroots level is the key to developing a
more humane and caring society. The first step is to stop
people being afraid; von Doussa genuinely believes it is the
fear of difference that leads to discrimination
Sadly, few at the grassroots level were present at the National
Wine Centre to hear the former judge deliver the annual Mitchell
Oration (named after Dame Roma Mitchell for her work to counter
discrimination)). His message was superb in its clarity and
simplicity and deserved a far wider audience. Notably, mainstream
journalists were absent, despite genuinely newsworthy items
being raised, not the least of which was a call for a Bill
of Rights.
Von Doussa contends that at the end of the 20th century the
optimistic assessment of Australia as a harmonious multicultural
society seemed correct, despite lingering concerns about the
treatment of indigenous people and emerging ones about its
handling of asylum seekers.
But he has seen that the promising movement towards reconciliation,
that emerged from the bridge walks around Australia and the
stolen generations inquiry, has since foundered. Dialogue
on human rights seems to have stalled. The enjoyment of rights
by indigenous people and by minorities suffered serious blows,
due squarely to a change in political discourse. That change
has myriad causes but notable amongst them was the Tampa incident
where the lives of 433 people seeking refuge became a political
tool for the shaping of public opinion.
The detention of asylum seekers who arrive by boat, the Tampa
incident and the Pacific solution that followed are recognised
by Australian human rights organisations and lawyers as gross
breaches of Australia’s international obligations. They
have attracted international condemnation. Yet the government
injected into public discourse the notion that these people
were “illegals”, and the vanguards of an invasion
of Australia’s privileged lifestyle.
Then came September 11 2001 and last year’s Bali bombings.
These events brought home to Australians that they are not
immune from terrorist threats. Fear and ignorance made ethnic
minorities in Australia the targets of racist and religious
violence and discrimination. Von Doussa says the government’s
reaction has been to curtail rights, through tools such as
anti-terrorism legislation, and efforts to remove HREOC’s
power to intervene in court cases about human rights.
He argues that the Federal Government is silencing its opponents
and playing on fears to perpetuate myths, such as the hoary
old chestnut that support for minorities comes at the expense
of ordinary Australians. The typical response is encased in
self interest, not compassion and reason.
So how to move forward? Von Doussa believes that more genuine
dialogue is needed, not monologues from iconic human rights
figures. He says that changing community attitudes is a slow
process, and he suspects that his efforts will have little
or no effect unless the Government sees support in the electorate
grow for such issues.
Von Doussa also regards education as vital, and is heartened
by programs in high schools which show young people have an
increasingly sophisticated understanding of what it means
to enshrine and protect human rights. But it’s not just
the young that need educating; he says the key to effective
learning is simple information which explains the justice
of allowing everybody to participate in community life on
an equal footing. He feels that widespread community understanding
is more likely if the notion of human rights is set out in
elementary terms.
And von Doussa supports a Bill of Rights, though many argue
that legal rights beyond those already recognised by the common-law
and statute are not needed. He says Australia is one of a
diminishing number of common-law countries without such a
Bill.
In the good times he agrees that
it’s not needed but when the going gets tough –
like now – people will be left outside the mainstream
legal system, such as asylum seekers, without enforceable
legal rights. However, he doesn’t think there’s
any prospect of getting a Bill of Rights up, while there remains
a widespread fear of terrorism.
He believes the challenge for Australia is to cast off the
shackles of fear and embrace justice for every human being,
regardless of class, race or visa status. I suspect his closing
comment would receive heartfelt support from Father Frank
Brennan, “As Australians, let us not be damned by our
silence. Or shamed by our ignorance.”
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"One couldn’t say Brennan
is impartial but he is passionate in his convictions and cogent
in his arguments for reform"
| Karen Ashford,
an Adelaide freelance journalist, reports for SBS Radio.
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