tag:theconversation.com,2011:/au/topics/uluru-27170/articlesUluru – The Conversation2021-12-28T19:22:41Ztag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1670402021-12-28T19:22:41Z2021-12-28T19:22:41ZThe epic, 550-million-year story of Uluṟu, and the spectacular forces that led to its formation<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/429247/original/file-20211029-17-1yurlmh.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=46%2C58%2C7720%2C5123&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Steven Wei Ima/Unsplash</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/">CC BY</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>Part of the magic of Ulu<u>r</u>u is the way it tricks your senses. Deep orange by day, at sunrise and sunset it appears to change colour, becoming a more vibrant shade of red, and then almost purple. </p>
<p>Its size also seems to change depending on your perspective. Approaching Ulu<u>r</u>u from afar you are struck by how small it appears. But as you get closer, you realise it is truly a huge mountain, a behemoth in the middle of the comparatively flat Australian desert. </p>
<p>Australian geologists are now revealing yet another dimension to Ulu<u>r</u>u’s magic: the spectacular forces that led to its formation. </p>
<p>Ulu<u>r</u>u is a time capsule. Within its sand grains there is an epic 550-million-year saga of continents colliding, mountains rising and falling, and the remarkable strength of our most iconic mountain.</p>
<h2>Ulu<u>r</u>u is sacred</h2>
<p>To the A<u>n</u>angu, Ulu<u>r</u>u <a href="https://parksaustralia.gov.au/uluru/discover/culture/">is sacred</a>. The A<u>n</u>angu are the owners of the land on which Ulu<u>r</u>u sits and they have long understood its magic. </p>
<p>Their Dreaming stories tell of the dramatic creation of Ulu<u>r</u>u and Kata Tjuta on the previously featureless Earth by ancestral creator beings known as the Tjukuritja or Waparitja. </p>
<p>If you get the opportunity to tour Ulu<u>r</u>u with a Traditional Owner you will hear <a href="https://parksaustralia.gov.au/uluru/discover/culture/stories/">stories</a> about the significance of some of the dimples, caves and undulations, many of which have a unique and important place in A<u>n</u>angu culture.</p>
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<span class="caption">The story of Uluru began 550 million years ago, when India smashed into the West Australian coast.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Robyn Lawford</span></span>
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<p>Compared to the Traditional Owners, whose knowledge dates back several tens of thousands of years, scientists have only realised the significance of Ulu<u>r</u>u over the last 30 years or so. </p>
<p>Ulu<u>r</u>u’s geological history has been revealed by assembling different types of data, like pieces of a giant jigsaw puzzle. That puzzle is taking shape and the scene it reveals is perhaps even more spectacular than the rock itself. </p>
<p>To tell Ulu<u>r</u>u’s story from the beginning we need to travel back in time 550 million years. </p>
<h2>India smashed into the Western Australian coast</h2>
<p>Earth’s tectonic plates are constantly in motion, continents collide with each other and then rift apart. Around <a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S0012825220305237">550 million years ago</a>, continents collided as part of the assembly of the supercontinent Gondwana, <a href="https://www.eurekalert.org/multimedia/551044">one of several times</a> in Earth’s history where most of the continents were stuck together in one continuous piece of land.</p>
<p>Back then, a map of our globe would have looked very different. At this time, Antarctica was nestled against the Great Australian Bight. If you were around then you could have walked from Australia directly into Antarctica without getting your shoes wet. India was situated to the west of Western Australia when it was pulled toward our continent and smashed into the coastline. </p>
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<a href="https://theconversation.com/friday-essay-truth-telling-return-to-uluru-and-reckoning-with-the-sins-of-fathers-155118">Friday essay: truth telling, Return to Uluru and reckoning with the sins of fathers</a>
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<p>India and Australia’s collision caused massive stresses to reverberate throughout the Australian crust, like waves of energy crashing through the continent. When those waves got to Central Australia, something pretty remarkable happened that geologists can understand by <a href="https://www.ga.gov.au/scientific-topics/disciplines/geophysics">mapping the rocks beneath the surface</a>.</p>
<p>Those maps reveal <a href="https://pubs.geoscienceworld.org/gsa/lithosphere/article/1/6/343/99528/The-architecture-kinematics-and-lithospheric?searchresult=1">a complex network</a> of ancient, interwoven fractures and faults, similar to the famous <a href="https://theconversation.com/the-san-andreas-fault-is-about-to-crack-heres-what-will-happen-when-it-does-58975">San Andreas fault</a> network. Unlike a fracture in your arm bone, these faults never healed, so they remained broken, forming weak zones susceptible to breaking and moving again.</p>
<p>So, when the waves of energy from WA reached Central Australia, the network of fractures moved, pushing rock packages on top of each other. As the rocks moved past each other, they also moved upwards and were thrust into the air. </p>
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<span class="caption">Uluru is made of sandstone, a type of rock formed in oceans.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Unsplash</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/">CC BY</a></span>
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<h2>An enormous mountain range emerged</h2>
<p>Each fault rupture moved the rocks so quickly that <a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/019181419400069C">huge earthquakes</a> shook the ground. Gradually, these faults uplifted an enormous mountain range. It was called the Petermann mountains, and it was unlike anything in Australia today. </p>
<p>The mountains were hundreds of kilometres long and five kilometres high, more akin to the <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-hTVNidxg2s">Indian Himalaya</a> than Australia’s <a href="https://australiaphysicalfeatures.weebly.com/the-great-dividing-range.html">Great Dividing Range</a>. </p>
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Read more:
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<p>They were mostly made of granite, a rock that crystallises from molten rock (magma) deep underground. This granite was pushed up to the surface in the mountain-building process. Normally, mountains would be covered in vegetation, but 550 million years ago land plants had <a href="https://theconversation.com/friday-essay-the-silence-of-ediacara-the-shadow-of-uranium-72058">not yet evolved</a>, meaning these mountains were probably bare. </p>
<h2>Boulders cracked off, an ocean formed</h2>
<p>Bare mountains weather quickly because they are more exposed to rain and wind. Big cracks formed in the granite, splitting away rocks and boulders, which fell into rivers gushing down deep valleys carved into the mountain. </p>
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<span class="caption">At sunrise and sunset, Uluru appears to change colour.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Christian Bass/Unsplash</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/">CC BY</a></span>
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<p>As the eroded rocks tumbled in the torrential water, they broke apart, until only grains of sand remained, like the <a href="https://www.sandatlas.org/sand-that-remembers-the-rock-it-once-was/">sand you see on the bottom of a river bed</a>. These huge <a href="https://www.amusingplanet.com/2016/02/the-stunning-beauty-of-braided-rivers.html">braided rivers</a> came off the northern side of the Petermann mountains and snaked across the landscape until the rivers entered a low-lying region, called a sedimentary basin.</p>
<p>When the river reached the basin, the <a href="https://pubs.geoscienceworld.org/gsa/geology/article-abstract/30/10/887/192268/Isotopic-test-of-a-thermally-driven-intraplate?redirectedFrom=fulltext">sediment from the mountains</a> dropped out of the water, depositing layer upon layer of sand. The weight of it pushed down on the underlying rock, causing the basin to deepen until it was kilometres thick. </p>
<p>The overlying layers compacted the sand deposited previously, forming a rock called sandstone. Over time the basin continued to deepen and was covered by water, forming an inland ocean lapping at the foot of the huge mountain range.</p>
<h2>Ancient faults reawakened, and Ulu<u>r</u>u rose from the ocean</h2>
<p>Sediment continued to deposit into the ocean until about 300 million years ago when the ancient faults began to reawaken during a new mountain-building event called the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alice_Springs_Orogeny">Alice Springs orogeny</a>. </p>
<p>The thick layers of sand that had cemented into solid sandstone were uplifted above sea level. Squeezed together by huge tectonic forces, the layers buckled and <a href="https://blogs.agu.org/mountainbeltway/2019/03/08/friday-fold-dent-de-morcles/">folded</a> into M-shapes. The apex, or <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fold_(geology)">hinge of folds</a>, was compressed more than surrounding rocks, and it is from the hinge of a massive fold that Ulu<u>r</u>u formed. </p>
<p>Folding and deformation made Ulu<u>r</u>u strong and able to resist the forces of weathering that eroded the surrounding, weaker rocks, including almost all of the once mighty Petermann mountains. If we could dig underneath Ulu<u>r</u>u, we would see it is only the <a href="https://ecat.ga.gov.au/geonetwork/srv/eng/catalog.search#/metadata/73105">very tip of a rock sequence</a> that extends kilometres down under the surface, like a rock iceberg.</p>
<p>Ulu<u>r</u>u is a sacred site to A<u>n</u>angu and our respect for their deep knowledge and ownership of this land means we <a href="https://theconversation.com/closing-uluru-to-climbers-is-better-for-tourism-in-the-long-run-86831">no longer climb Uluṟu</a>. </p>
<p>But even if we could, why would we want to? Ulu<u>r</u>u’s magic is most evident when you stand at its base, look up, and picture in your mind the enormous forces that conspired to form it.</p>
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Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/land-ahoy-study-shows-the-first-continents-bobbed-to-the-surface-more-than-3-billion-years-ago-171391">Land ahoy: study shows the first continents bobbed to the surface more than 3 billion years ago</a>
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<img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/167040/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Melanie Finch is the President of the Women in Earth and Environmental Sciences Australasia (WOMEESA) Network. She is a 2021-2022 Science and Technology Australia Superstar of STEM.</span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Andrew Giles does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>Continents colliding, mountains rising and falling, and remarkable strength. The story of Australia’s most iconic mountain is truly magical.Melanie Finch, Lecturer in Structural Geology and Metamorphism, Monash UniversityAndrew Giles, Assistant lecturer, Monash UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1551182021-04-08T20:11:28Z2021-04-08T20:11:28ZFriday essay: truth telling, Return to Uluru and reckoning with the sins of fathers<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/393733/original/file-20210407-17-158s5k7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=81%2C135%2C5912%2C3875&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Lukas Coch/AAP</span></span></figcaption></figure><p><a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/56883955-return-to-uluru">Return to Uluru</a> is the latest book from respected historian Mark McKenna. It is one of a few history books <a href="https://www.booktopia.com.au/truth-telling-henry-reynolds/book/9781742236940.html?source=pla&gclid=CjwKCAjwjbCDBhAwEiwAiudBy5-q8122xsCDk7ZO8gwd9cUt3Ul0l_Tue_HxeC9upElRD30Z15uNPxoCCgkQAvD_BwE.">published recently</a> that explicitly engage with the <a href="https://ulurustatement.org/">Uluru Statement from the Heart</a> and its demand for a nationwide process of truth telling — one that <a href="https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/full/10.1080/1031461X.2018.1523838?casa_token=Dyj2N00ozr4AAAAA:XauA8TcQCQ5jZCi_dWkZ2TfipfpYv8FDkm1qH644jbc6YDc_QVjH3PJ4Wdm9hxUyI1lv1GUBN1BRJA">some key advocates</a> insist should be pursued locally and pluralistically. Not one truth, but many truths. </p>
<p>McKenna has already responded to the Uluru statement in his searching Quarterly Essay, <a href="https://www.blackincbooks.com.au/books/moment-truth">Moment of Truth</a> (2018). Amid that wide-ranging discussion of politics, history and Australian futures, he paused to consider a single street sign in the down-at-heel suburb of Kurnell on Botany Bay’s southern shore, where, in 1770, the Endeavour crew had spent a listless week.</p>
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Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/the-uluru-statement-is-not-a-vague-idea-of-being-heard-but-deliberate-structural-reform-142820">The Uluru statement is not a vague idea of 'being heard' but deliberate structural reform</a>
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<p>Through reconstructing a history of a worn out sign announcing Kurnell as the “birthplace of modern Australia”, McKenna traced the changing significance of this site, and the strange politics of foundational myths. This revealing vignette seemed like a chapter-in-the-making, with Kurnell poised to be added to the itinerary of vantage points from which he showed his readers ways to view past, present and future differently.</p>
<p>But it was a tease. McKenna’s next book — this one — turns its back on the coastal fringes and faces inwards, gingerly and then confidently venturing into terrains, actual and abstract, he had not yet traversed. </p>
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<span class="caption">Mark McKenna.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">goodreads</span></span>
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<p>In Return to Uluru, McKenna continues his journey in search of alternative sites of national foundations — or, national sites of alternative foundations. This quest had begun with <a href="https://www.booktopia.com.au/looking-for-blackfellas-point-mark-mckenna/book/9780868406442.html">Looking for Blackfellas’ Point</a>, subtitled An Australian History of Place, published two decades ago in 2002. </p>
<p>Searching for a satisfying way to intervene in the heat of the history wars, he turned his focus to what had become his own backyard: a bend in the Towamba river in southeastern NSW known in the local vernacular as Blackfellas’ Point, where he had purchased eight acres (3.2 hectares) of land.
From there, McKenna’s vista spanned outwards to the far south coast region, reaching backwards to its frontier past and forwards to its racial present. </p>
<p>McKenna then detoured via his magisterial biography of Manning Clark, <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/11431660-an-eye-for-eternity">An Eye for Eternity</a>, a suitable byway for a historian deeply interested in place and the redemptive power of narrative. By the early 2010s, he resumed his Australian journey by essaying four coastal locations. In <a href="https://www.mup.com.au/books/from-the-edge-paperback-softback">From the Edge: Australia’s Lost Histories</a> (2016), he explored the peripheral histories of the long stretches of beach of southeast Australia from Gippsland to Sydney; Port Essington on the Cobourg Peninsula in west Arnhem Land; Murujuga in the Pilbara in the northwest and Gangaar (Cooktown) in Far North Queensland.</p>
<p>These off-centre places were offered as viable and lively alternatives to the moribund, foundational myths of single moments of bloodless and benign possession.
Such myths are gradually reaching their use by date, although still hanging on as <a href="https://theconversation.com/250-years-since-captain-cook-landed-in-australia-its-time-to-acknowledge-the-violence-of-first-encounters-132098">last year’s commemoration of Cook and the Endeavour</a> proved. </p>
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Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/a-failure-to-say-hello-how-captain-cook-blundered-his-first-impression-with-indigenous-people-126673">A failure to say hello: how Captain Cook blundered his first impression with Indigenous people</a>
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<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/393744/original/file-20210407-15-c2ves0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/393744/original/file-20210407-15-c2ves0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/393744/original/file-20210407-15-c2ves0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/393744/original/file-20210407-15-c2ves0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/393744/original/file-20210407-15-c2ves0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/393744/original/file-20210407-15-c2ves0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/393744/original/file-20210407-15-c2ves0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/393744/original/file-20210407-15-c2ves0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The Uluru Statement from the Heart is seen as a backdrop as Midnight Oil perform during a warm-up show ahead of their Makarrata Project tour in Sydney on February 25.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Dan Himbrechts/AAP</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Redemption</h2>
<p>And so, Return to Uluru sees McKenna venture inland — for the first time. Heading inwards, he makes use of those stories of discovery and exploration, with which settler Australians (particularly those of a certain age) are familiar, to insert himself into a practised way of encountering the mythologised space of the continent’s heart. The opening section of the book has the quality of re-enactment; it is hard to know how ironic it is. This is a history approached from the outside in. </p>
<p>But the explorer narrative makes sense since it turns out McKenna is a rare creature — someone who had not yet made the pilgrimage to Uluru and the fabled Centre. And so, the “return” in the book’s title is initially a puzzle: Who then, if not the author, is making a return to Uluru? What is returning — or being returned? </p>
<p>It takes the remainder of the book — which is part travelogue, part detective story, part historical narrative and part political treatise — to appreciate in all dimensions this powerful metaphor of return. </p>
<p>With the Centre reached, the second section of the book, called Lawman, focuses on a policeman, Bill McKinnon, who murdered an Aboriginal man, Yokununna, in 1934. McKinnon is reasonably well-known in scholarship on the Northern Territory. His killing of Yokununna, an Anangu man arrested on suspicion of being responsible (along with others) for the death of an Aboriginal stockman, is likewise amply documented since it was the subject of a federal government inquiry. This part of the book provides a narrative retelling of episode — a seamless weaving together of the official story and its obfuscations and competing interests. </p>
<figure class="align-left zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/393727/original/file-20210407-19-1162m20.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/393727/original/file-20210407-19-1162m20.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/393727/original/file-20210407-19-1162m20.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=718&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/393727/original/file-20210407-19-1162m20.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=718&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/393727/original/file-20210407-19-1162m20.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=718&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/393727/original/file-20210407-19-1162m20.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=902&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/393727/original/file-20210407-19-1162m20.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=902&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/393727/original/file-20210407-19-1162m20.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=902&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Constable Bill McKinnon with his daughter, Susan, approx. 1941.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Library & Archives NT, Northern Territory Archives Service, NTRS 234, Photographic proof-sheets, 1979–1985, CP 426).</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Reading this part is a reminder the audience for this book is not the critical historian who is wondering when the debates about policing in the NT or the contradictions of government policy will be canvassed. The archive holds secrets and stories, and this is an “archive story”, which requires little critical commentary. </p>
<p>If the four “off-the-beaten-track” coastal sites of From The Edge were chosen for the ways they lent themselves to the work of revelation — of hidden histories or discarded truths — Uluru provides McKenna scope for the work of redemption. </p>
<p>In this case, redemption comes through the belated admission of a sin that was denied — or covered up — for which the perpetrator avoided punishment, even as he lived out his life knowing that he had dissembled. That is the Uluru to which McKenna returns through his historical scholarship.</p>
<p>As with all his books, the work of historical reckoning that McKenna pursues through the poetic telling of history operates simultaneously at a series of scales: the individual, the family, the local, and the national. It is the same rhetorical move that originally allowed McKenna’s own land on the NSW south coast to become a space of imagining on a national scale. And now, Uluru speaks again to the nation’s unfinished business.</p>
<p>This time it is a single site (a cave near Uluru), a singular episode (a newly-minted territory policeman chasing accused Aboriginal men), and a split second (when the policeman’s bullet kills one of them) that becomes the viewfinder for seeing past, present, future anew. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/393729/original/file-20210407-15-1muany6.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/393729/original/file-20210407-15-1muany6.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/393729/original/file-20210407-15-1muany6.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=800&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/393729/original/file-20210407-15-1muany6.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=800&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/393729/original/file-20210407-15-1muany6.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=800&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/393729/original/file-20210407-15-1muany6.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1006&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/393729/original/file-20210407-15-1muany6.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1006&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/393729/original/file-20210407-15-1muany6.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1006&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Sammy Wilson, the grandson of one of the men arrested at the same time as Yokunnuna, pointing at the spot where Yokunnuna was killed.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Mark McKenna</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Ethical questions</h2>
<p>Explaining its emphasis on the “micro”, the book begins with an epigram from the Swiss artist and sculptor, Alberto Giacometti: “By doing something a half centimetre high, you are more likely to get a sense of the universe than if you try to do the whole sky”. </p>
<p>But we are left with the question of whether a focus on the microcosmic is a productive model for this urgent and difficult work of national truth telling? Might it be a problem that a string of episodes — but not structures — are revisited and revised?</p>
<p>By the book’s third section, the power of the quest begins again — and here we are not only travelling to the Centre or into the past through the surviving official record. We are also jumping on a plane to Brisbane to meet with policeman McKinnon’s family. Here, we delve into other archives — those boxes of papers and other detritus of one’s life, which in Australia are less likely to be found in attics than in garages or, in Brisbane, in that evocative space known as “under the house”. </p>
<p>At this juncture, as the story spins from past to present, from the official memory to family memory, from public archives to private ones, the ethical stakes seem to grow ever greater.</p>
<p>While McKenna is flicking nonchalantly through McKinnon’s personal papers, he finds treasure — “a copious archive of Australia’s frontier” — including the notebook in which the policeman admits he had fired to hit Yokununna. Meanwhile, a curator in a museum in South Australia is searching records and finding the remains of McKinnon’s victim. </p>
<p>Our archives and collections — both public and private — still contain plenty of damning evidence to hold the past to account. These secret stashes. This murky memory-work. </p>
<p>Archaeologist Denis Byrne <a href="https://link.springer.com/article/10.1007/BF03376593">has described</a> the “ethos of return”, in which the flow of things and knowledge is reversing, coming home — perhaps to haunt, perhaps to heal. This is another kind of redemption. A powerful section of the book deals with the urgent work of taking Yokununna’s remains home — a process interrupted by COVID-19 and still playing out. </p>
<p>So far, the two families at the heart of this story — McKinnon’s and Yokununna’s — are travelling on parallel journeys; the reckoning will come, as it has powerfully at Myall Creek and other places, when families on opposite sides of a violent past come face to face.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/how-can-we-achieve-reconciliation-myall-creek-offers-valuable-answers-60198">How can we achieve reconciliation? Myall Creek offers valuable answers</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>Such a future meeting is not yet guaranteed, but it hangs as a possibility. The <a href="https://theconversation.com/how-can-we-achieve-reconciliation-myall-creek-offers-valuable-answers-60198">Myall Creek memorial</a> was shepherded by local churches and communities. Here, it seems, it will be museum curators and historians who are the nursemaids for re-membering — creating communities around common but differently experienced pasts. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/393735/original/file-20210407-13-1f5udtj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/393735/original/file-20210407-13-1f5udtj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/393735/original/file-20210407-13-1f5udtj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/393735/original/file-20210407-13-1f5udtj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/393735/original/file-20210407-13-1f5udtj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/393735/original/file-20210407-13-1f5udtj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/393735/original/file-20210407-13-1f5udtj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/393735/original/file-20210407-13-1f5udtj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">A bronze plaque commemorating the Myall Creek Massacre.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Wikimedia Commons</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>What are we to do?</h2>
<p>At the height of the history wars in the 1990s, the anthropologist Gillian Cowlishaw <a href="https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/pdf/10.1080/10314610608601210?casa_token=AMrHkf-Pvr4AAAAA:cU5I2-ADEKtBzdc6B-ryqkPxjkMHGY5UfKzljm-R872NMLQjrtD20RJzWfXW62Doqtmg1VFFKqq7">expressed surprise</a> at how readily some Australians were prepared to condemn their own ancestors rather than try to understand them. </p>
<p>She saw this as symptomatic of the polarising tenor of the furore — a failure of collective imagination to apprehend the complexities and contradictions of frontier lives. McKenna’s book (and inquiry) seeks to avoid such simplification and easy distancing from the fraught pasts we inherit. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/friday-essay-its-time-for-a-new-museum-dedicated-to-the-fighters-of-the-frontier-wars-155299">Friday essay: it's time for a new museum dedicated to the fighters of the frontier wars</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>He nudges his readers to see McKinnon and his crime for what it was: violent, illegal, excessive, irrational, and unconscionable, even if he was exonerated. No-one was found guilty of the killing, although the inquiry’s finding was that the “shooting of Yokununna […] though legally justified, was not warranted”. </p>
<p>McKenna does this not by swift damnation from the comfortable distance of the present, but by paying attention to the chinks in McKinnon’s own conscience. The fact that he held onto a piece of evidence that would expose him even as he spent his long retirement contributing occasionally to myth-making about himself and other police on the NT frontier. </p>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/393731/original/file-20210407-21-o3eph1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/393731/original/file-20210407-21-o3eph1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/393731/original/file-20210407-21-o3eph1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=800&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/393731/original/file-20210407-21-o3eph1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=800&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/393731/original/file-20210407-21-o3eph1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=800&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/393731/original/file-20210407-21-o3eph1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1006&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/393731/original/file-20210407-21-o3eph1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1006&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/393731/original/file-20210407-21-o3eph1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1006&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Bill McKinnon, on top of Uluru, 1984.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">(McKinnon collection).</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>But McKenna also has to deal with the implications for cherished family memories and pride when it becomes clear the generosity and hospitality extended to him by McKinnon’s doting daughter (who is slipping into dementia) is the path to the evidence that exposed her father. </p>
<p>And, indeed, the shadow of memory loss — the cruel play of remembering and forgetting — falls over the whole sorry episode. What happens when the distant frontier takes up residence in the family home? How will we remember our flawed ancestors then? </p>
<p>McKenna shares a story of a difficult meeting with McKinnon’s grandchildren, who understand the gravity of the situation, and articulate their commitment to reconciliation. They are prepared to do what needs to be done to come to terms with their unexpected inheritance; what that will be remains to be seen. </p>
<p>The book ends – surprisingly, jarringly, uncomfortably – with a sympathetic portrait of McKinnon, sitting atop an overturned box playing a violin. The context of the photograph is explained (McKinnon took it and annotated it). But we are left with the question: What do we do with these benign and romantic images of men who murdered and got away with it because the racial structures of Australian society ensured they would?</p>
<p>Is this the challenge of a much anticipated process of truth telling? Not that we will return to the big historical truths that in some ways, we all already know, but that we will have to revise our own and others’ family myths and treasured memories, finding a way to reconcile or hold in tension our love of — and our abhorrence for — the sins of the fathers? </p>
<p>This is the redemptive strain in McKenna’s work — that quest for grace — which perhaps has echoes of his biographical subject Manning Clark and his belief in the moral purpose of the historian’s craft. </p>
<p><em>Return to Uluru, by Mark McKenna, is published by Black Inc.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/155118/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Maria Nugent does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>What happens when the distant frontier takes up residence in the family home? How are we to remember our flawed ancestors? A new book grapples with these questions.Maria Nugent, Co-Director, Australian Centre for Indigenous History, Australian National UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1259292019-10-31T01:36:26Z2019-10-31T01:36:26ZAfter the climb: how new tourism opportunities can empower the traditional owners of Uluru<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/299089/original/file-20191029-183112-uvavbk.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">The Anangu community of Mutitjulu stands in stark contrast to the sleek tourism infrastructure in the neighbouring town of Yulara.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Lukas Coch/AAP</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Last weekend marked 34 years since the land title to Uluru was <a href="https://www.environment.gov.au/system/files/resources/bf47d674-f431-457b-8b3c-c30f644c3ad2/files/uktnp-a4factsheet-handback-small.pdf">handed back</a> to the local <a href="http://www.anangu.com.au/">Yankunytjatjara-Pitjantjatjara</a> peoples. It was also when <a href="https://www.environment.gov.au/resource/joint-management-uluru-kata-tjuta-national-park">joint management</a> of the Uluru-Katja-Tjuta National Park began between the traditional owners (Anangu people) and Parks Australia. </p>
<p>The arrangement recognised Anangu title to the land and ensured the direct involvement of Anangu in the development of tourism in the area.</p>
<p>The agreement also coincided with the <a href="https://parksaustralia.gov.au/uluru/discover/history/">relocation of tourism facilities</a> from the southeast base of Uluru to the purpose-built resort town of Yulara. The old hotels and other tourist sites were discarded and became the base for the Anangu community of Mutitjulu. </p>
<p>However, if joint management aimed to deliver improved economic and social outcomes for Anangu residents, it has proven to be a <a href="https://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/australiaandthepacific/australia/8087670/Aborigines-have-received-fraction-of-benefits-from-Ayers-Rock-hand-back.html">spectacular failure</a>.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/closing-uluru-to-climbers-is-better-for-tourism-in-the-long-run-86831">Closing Uluru to climbers is better for tourism in the long run</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>Today, Yulara and Mutitjulu stand in stark contrast. Yulara is filled with cashed-up, bucket-list travellers from all over the world, while Mutitjulu is an outpost of <a href="https://www.sbs.com.au/nitv/nitv-news/article/2017/06/21/mutitjulu-community-was-ground-zero-nt-intervention-ten-years">lingering disadvantage</a> where <a href="http://www.concernedaustralians.com.au/media/Land_Rights_News_July_17_Altman_pg_18-19.pdf">overcrowding, underemployment, poverty, high rates of suicide and preventable diseases</a> remain pervasive problems.</p>
<p>Mutitjulu was also the epicentre of the controversial <a href="https://www.smh.com.au/politics/federal/wounds-of-the-intervention-still-run-deep-in-nt-s-mutitjulu-20190606-p51vbe.html">Northern Territory National Emergency Response</a> in 2007, commonly referred to as the intervention, when the federal government took control over more than 70 Indigenous communities in response to allegations of child sexual abuse. </p>
<p>Over a decade later, the intervention has <a href="https://www.abc.net.au/news/2017-05-23/mutitjulu-10-years-after-nt-intervention/8548380">done little</a> to <a href="https://www.humanrights.gov.au/our-work/aboriginal-and-torres-strait-islander-social-justice/publications/close-gap-report-our">close the gap</a> in these communities. </p>
<p>Mutitjulu is emblematic of what academic Jon Altman refers to as the persistent need to <a href="http://www.concernedaustralians.com.au/media/Land_Rights_News_July_17_Altman_pg_18-19.pdf">reestablish trust</a> between Indigenous Australians and the institutions that for so long failed to ensure their basic human rights were protected.</p>
<p><div data-react-class="Tweet" data-react-props="{"tweetId":"1137130008110030849"}"></div></p>
<h2>An end to climbing brings new opportunities</h2>
<p>The <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/australia-news/2019/oct/25/respect-is-given-australia-closes-climb-on-sacred-uluru">end of climbing at Uluru</a> provides an opportunity to reset the relationship between the traditional owners and the tourism sector, and look for new ways for Anangu to be integrated into the industry. </p>
<p>Central to this is how the Anangu can meaningfully develop their cultural assets within the park to ensure the <a href="https://theconversation.com/closing-uluru-to-climbers-is-better-for-tourism-in-the-long-run-86831">long-term benefit of their people</a>, particularly through direct employment. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/why-we-are-banning-tourists-from-climbing-uluru-86755">Why we are banning tourists from climbing Uluru</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>There would appear to be ample opportunities for the people in Mutitjulu to take advantage of the 1,000-plus tourism jobs in Yulara, which are currently staffed largely by Indigenous and non-Indigenous people from outside the community. </p>
<p>The closure of Uluru to climbing also necessitates the development of <a href="https://skift.com/2019/08/30/australias-uluru-sees-bright-future-from-visitors-interested-in-more-than-a-rock/">alternate visitor experiences</a>, particularly more educational and immersive experiences that would entail learning from and interacting respectfully with traditional owners. </p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/299601/original/file-20191031-187903-1jhthdu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/299601/original/file-20191031-187903-1jhthdu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/299601/original/file-20191031-187903-1jhthdu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/299601/original/file-20191031-187903-1jhthdu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/299601/original/file-20191031-187903-1jhthdu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=502&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/299601/original/file-20191031-187903-1jhthdu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=502&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/299601/original/file-20191031-187903-1jhthdu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=502&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The decision to end climbing at Uluru has been a cause for celebration by Indigenous communities.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Lukas Coch/AAP</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Obstacles to developing an Indigenous tourism economy</h2>
<p>Yet, <a href="https://www.independent.co.uk/news/world/australasia/uluru-handback-30-years-on-aborigines-promised-jobs-and-social-mobility-are-still-being-marginalised-a6711036.html">structural impediments</a> prevent this from becoming a reality at Uluru, as well as other remote parts of Australia. </p>
<p>These obstacles include a <a href="https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/abs/10.5172/ser.11.1.22">lack of education</a> and training options specific to Indigenous needs to help them set up and run their own businesses. Another issue is that land rights and native title claims have tended to benefit a few legally recognised landowners and haven’t been conducive to whole-of-community development. </p>
<p>Both the Anangu and key tourism stakeholders in central Australia, including Voyages Indigenous Tourism and Tourism NT, are keenly aware of the need to reform the local tourism industry. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/how-indigenous-tourism-can-help-bring-about-reconciliation-in-australia-78344">How Indigenous tourism can help bring about reconciliation in Australia</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p><a href="https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/abs/10.5367/000000008784489426">Enabling greater access to commercial bank loans</a> is critical to Indigenous business development, as is <a href="https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/abs/10.1080/08941920290107585">collaborative planning</a> between Indigenous groups and the government. Likewise, <a href="http://www.publish.csiro.au/wr/wr09130">scientific and traditional Indigenous knowledge</a> could be combined in new ways to drive tourism growth in areas like land and wildlife management.</p>
<p>The Anangu must also be empowered to <a href="https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/abs/10.1080/13215906.2017.1289855">start micro-enterprises</a> grounded in Knowledge of Country that would strengthen their community, culture and language. One example of this is the <a href="https://www.countryneedspeople.org.au/what_are_indigenous_rangers">Indigenous Ranger and Protected Area program</a>, which involves Indigenous rangers managing their own lands based on traditional cultural practice. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/indigenous-rangers-dont-receive-the-funding-they-deserve-heres-why-115916">Indigenous rangers don’t receive the funding they deserve – here's why</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>Another approach that has shown promise is embracing Indigenous knowledge systems as part of the tourist <a href="https://www.mdpi.com/2076-0752/8/4/135">educational experience</a>. This is gaining currency in the NT as remote community arts centres seek to become visitor destinations in their own right. </p>
<p>These approaches to bottom-up initiatives have the greatest potential for growth and long-term empowerment in Uluru. </p>
<p><div data-react-class="Tweet" data-react-props="{"tweetId":"1188566006584659969"}"></div></p>
<h2>A model for other Indigenous communities</h2>
<p>A major tourism rethink also requires addressing the structural impediments that prevent Indigenous peoples from starting businesses. </p>
<p>For example, new incentives could be built into the Australian tax code for those who invest in businesses on Aboriginal-owned land. However, such measures will only succeed if they are supported by bespoke educational and training programs for Anangu wanting to work in tourism. </p>
<p>The closure of Uluru to climbing should not simply focus on the limits the Anangu have imposed on visitors, but rather on the <a href="https://www.niaa.gov.au/indigenous-affairs/empowered-communities">new possibilities</a> this presents to leverage <a href="https://www.routledge.com/Tourism-Resilience-and-Sustainability-Adapting-to-Social-Political-and/Cheer-Lew/p/book/9781138206786">tourism for a more sustainable and resilient future</a>. </p>
<p>This could also provide a model for traditional owners elsewhere who want to <a href="https://www.humanrights.gov.au/our-work/aboriginal-and-torres-strait-islander-social-justice/projects/indigenous-property-rights">reclaim decision-making authority</a> over tourism and other cultural activities on their lands. </p>
<p>And it signals to the broader Australian public that a greater respect for the rights of Indigenous people might just be the catalyst that helps drive a <a href="https://ijcis.qut.edu.au/article/view/532">brighter Indigenous future</a>.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/125929/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Joseph M. Cheer has received funding from DFAT/Australia China Council and Tourism Research Australia.</span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Amanda Kearney, Barry Judd, Chris Hallinan, Christine Schlesinger, and Keir Reeves do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>There’s a need to develop new tourism activities at Uluru, especially more educational and immersive experiences that would entail interacting respectfully with traditional owners.Barry Judd, Professor, Indigenous Social Research, Charles Darwin UniversityAmanda Kearney, Matthew Flinders Fellow, Professor of Australian and Indigenous Studies, Flinders UniversityChris Hallinan, Research AssociateChristine Schlesinger, Senior Lecturer in Environmental Science and Ecology, Charles Darwin UniversityJoseph M. Cheer, Professor in Sustainable Tourism, Wakayama UniversityKeir Reeves, Professor of History, Federation University AustraliaLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1226172019-09-05T18:50:14Z2019-09-05T18:50:14ZFriday essay: lessons from stone – Indigenous thinking and the Law<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/290607/original/file-20190903-175705-bbfa3t.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">The sacred site of Uluru. In our Law we know that rocks are sentient and contain spirit. </span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Dan peled/AAP</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>In Dreaming stories, Emu is often a narcissist who damages social relationships. These stories teach us about the protocols for living sustainably, and warn us about unsustainable behaviours. The basic protocols of Aboriginal society, like most societies, include respecting and hearing all points of view in a yarn. </p>
<p>Narcissists demand this right, then refuse to allow other points of view on the grounds that any other opinion somehow infringes their freedom of speech or is offensive. </p>
<p>They destroy the basic social contracts of reciprocity (which allow people to build a reputation of generosity based on sharing to ensure ongoing connectedness and support), shattering these frameworks of harmony with a few words of nasty gossip. They apply double standards and break down systems of give and take until every member of a social group becomes isolated, lost in a Darwinian struggle for power and dwindling resources that destroys everything. Then they move on to another place, another group. Feel free to extrapolate this pattern globally and historically.</p>
<p>We have stories for this behaviour, memorial stones scattered along songlines throughout the landscape, victims and transgressors transformed into rock following epic struggles to stand for all time as cautionary tales. Clancy McKellar, a Wangkumarra Songman, took me to a site where three brothers who had kidnapped women were punished and turned to stone.</p>
<p>All over that place in Tibooburra the red rocks are people turned to stone for breaking the Law or messing around too much with weather modification rituals. There is Law and knowledge of Law in stones. All Law-breaking comes from that first evil thought, “I am greater-than,” that original sin of placing yourself above the land or above other people.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/290626/original/file-20190903-175696-1bepnru.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/290626/original/file-20190903-175696-1bepnru.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/290626/original/file-20190903-175696-1bepnru.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/290626/original/file-20190903-175696-1bepnru.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/290626/original/file-20190903-175696-1bepnru.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/290626/original/file-20190903-175696-1bepnru.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/290626/original/file-20190903-175696-1bepnru.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/290626/original/file-20190903-175696-1bepnru.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Red Rocks at Tibooburra.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Author provided</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>In our traditional systems of Law we remember, however, that everyone is an idiot from time to time. Punishment is harsh and swift, but afterwards there is no criminal record, no grudge against the transgressor. Perpetrators are only criminals until they are punished, and then they may be respected again and begin afresh to make a positive contribution to the group.</p>
<p>In this way, people will not lie and shift blame or avoid punishment by twisting rules to escape accountability. They can look forward to a clean slate and therefore be willing and equal participants in their own punishment and transformation, which is a learning process more than anything else.</p>
<p>This is perhaps something of value to be taken from our stone stories to make justice systems more effective and sustainable today. Those old criminals in stone all over this country are not despised figures, but respected entities who received their punishment and are now revered in their roles of keeping the Law. If we respect them and hear their stories, they can tell us how to live together better.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/explainer-the-seasonal-calendars-of-indigenous-australia-88471">Explainer: the seasonal 'calendars' of Indigenous Australia</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>Albino boy</h2>
<p>But I don’t know very much about rocks. I feel more at home on open savannah and dry sclerophyll bushlands, and my Story Place has only one stone, which moves around of its own accord and so is in a different position every time you go there. It arrived from Asia, carried by a cyclone, and never quite settled down to live slowly like other rocks. So I need to yarn with somebody who really understands the way stone works. As usual, I seek the most insightful knowledge in the most marginalised point of view. I talk to a young Tasmanian Aboriginal boy called Max.</p>
<p>Max has silvery white hair and alabaster skin. He looks and talks like he’d be more at home riding a dragon than a stock horse. He’s a proper nerd, memorising hundreds of digits of pi for no particular reason, thinking his martial arts skills are much better than they really are, and carrying around an encyclopaedic knowledge of elves and hobbits and superheroes. He can also write songs in his ancestral language that make me cry.</p>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/290603/original/file-20190903-175714-1wigy69.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/290603/original/file-20190903-175714-1wigy69.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/290603/original/file-20190903-175714-1wigy69.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=458&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/290603/original/file-20190903-175714-1wigy69.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=458&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/290603/original/file-20190903-175714-1wigy69.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=458&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/290603/original/file-20190903-175714-1wigy69.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=575&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/290603/original/file-20190903-175714-1wigy69.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=575&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/290603/original/file-20190903-175714-1wigy69.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=575&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Max.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Author provided</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>We’ve spent a lot of time sparring in a traditional style that was once done with stone knives. The rules of engagement are that you can only cut your opponent on the arms, shoulders or back (extremely difficult to do) and — here’s the kicker — at the end of the fight the winner must get cut up the same as the loser, so that nobody can walk away with a grudge. </p>
<p>It’s hard enough to cut somebody on the back with a stone knife when they’re trying to do the same to you, but it’s even harder when you know that every time you cut them you’re really just cutting yourself.</p>
<p>In our yarns following these sessions we decided this kind of combat forces you to see your enemy’s point of view, and by the end of it you can no longer be opponents because you’re connected by mutual respect and understanding. More lessons from stone — but how to apply these today? Sounds like a good opportunity for a thought experiment.</p>
<p>I guess if you wanted to take a contemporary economy that is dependent on perpetual war and try to make it sustainable, you could start by applying similar rules of engagement. But in the stone-knife model, enemies are a non-renewable resource and eventually you would run out of them. It would not be sustainable at all for the war machine if everybody ended up respecting all points of view. </p>
<p>Perhaps the transferable wisdom here is simply that most young men need something a little meatier than mindfulness workshops to curtail the terrifying narcissism that overtakes them from the moment their balls drop. Maybe then they won’t grow up to be the men who start wars in the first place.</p>
<p>This brings us back to that foundational flaw, that Luciferian lie: “I am greater than you; you are lesser than me.” Because his appearance does not match some people’s idea of his cultural identity, Max faces abusive encounters grounded in that foundational flaw daily. His identity is constantly questioned by both Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal people who place themselves in a greater-than position and get a little thrill out of pronouncing judgement on his existence. Max reflects on these encounters, deciding that these people lack their own authentic identities and therefore can only find comfort in assaulting his.</p>
<p>Max may not know everything about his lineage or his culture, both of which were catastrophically disrupted by large-scale genocide, but he knows who he is, and the
fragments of cultural knowledge he carries have integrity and value. He applies the pattern in those fragments to every aspect of his life.</p>
<blockquote>
<p>I don’t know what I’d be if I didn’t have my identity, because I haven’t really known a life without it. I can’t discern parts that are Indigenous and parts that are not because all of my actions are Indigenous — the way I move through the world, my social interactions, my way of thinking about anything. It bleeds through you no matter what.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>When Max recites a hundred digits of pi he is not stepping outside of his identity; he is singing a pattern of creation from north to south. He does not need to have an Elder’s level of knowledge to do this. He needs only to perceive the pattern in what he does know.</p>
<p>Keepers of knowledge see him behaving in this way and know he is ready to be responsible for additional knowledge, so pass on story to him. This is how Indigenous Knowledge works.</p>
<h2>Strong no matter what</h2>
<p>Max teaches me about rocks, because Tasmanian people have a particular connection to rocks.</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Stones to me are the objects that parallel all life, more so than trees or mortal things because stones are almost immortal. They know things learned over deep time. Stone represents earth, tools and spirit; it conveys meaning through its use and through its resilience to the elements. At the same time it ages, cracking and eroding as time wears it down, but it is still there, filled with energy and spirit.</p>
</blockquote>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/290475/original/file-20190902-175682-1gsehn1.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/290475/original/file-20190902-175682-1gsehn1.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/290475/original/file-20190902-175682-1gsehn1.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/290475/original/file-20190902-175682-1gsehn1.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/290475/original/file-20190902-175682-1gsehn1.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/290475/original/file-20190902-175682-1gsehn1.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/290475/original/file-20190902-175682-1gsehn1.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/290475/original/file-20190902-175682-1gsehn1.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The Albino Boy sacred site: a massive complex of carved standing stones in north west New South Wales.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Author provided</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>We yarn about the sentience of stones and the ancient Greek mistake of identifying “dead matter” as opposed to living matter, limiting for centuries to come the potential of western thought when attempting to define things like consciousness and self-organising systems such as galaxies. They viewed space as lifeless and empty between stars; our own stories represented those dark areas as living country, based on observed effects of attraction from those places on celestial bodies. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/how-ancient-aboriginal-star-maps-have-shaped-australias-highway-network-55952">How ancient Aboriginal star maps have shaped Australia's highway network</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>Theories of dead matter and empty space meant that western science came late to discoveries of what they now call “dark matter”, finding that those areas of “dead and empty” space actually contain most of the matter in the universe.</p>
<p>This brings us back to Elder of the Nyoongar people, Uncle Noel Nannup’s, creation story of when Emu went nuts with narcissism and demanded to become the boss of creation. In that story, the pre-creation reality was that space was solid: it sat heavily upon the ground, crushing everything that attempted to come into being. Earth and sky had to be separated, the Ancestors lifting up the heavens physically. </p>
<p>Sky country is seen in our stories as tangible, having mass, in a way that reveals an understanding of dark matter. All that celestial territory is in constant communication with us, exerting forces upon us and even exchanging matter in the form of rocks crashing through our atmosphere. Our stories show our ancient understanding of the way asteroids form craters, a realisation that only entered scientific knowledge a few short decades ago.</p>
<p>Max and I yarn about how our knowledge of these things cannot have always been unique to our culture alone, as the ancient names for constellations are often the same as ours throughout the world — the seven sisters, the two brothers, the eagle, the hunter. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/290604/original/file-20190903-175696-6rhw7v.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/290604/original/file-20190903-175696-6rhw7v.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/290604/original/file-20190903-175696-6rhw7v.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=398&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/290604/original/file-20190903-175696-6rhw7v.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=398&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/290604/original/file-20190903-175696-6rhw7v.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=398&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/290604/original/file-20190903-175696-6rhw7v.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=500&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/290604/original/file-20190903-175696-6rhw7v.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=500&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/290604/original/file-20190903-175696-6rhw7v.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=500&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Sylvia Ken, winner of the 2019 Wynne Prize, with her painting of the Seven Sisters at the Art Gallery of NSW in May.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Peter Rae/AAP</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>These are global stories and systems of knowledge that must have once been common to all people. We think something terrible must have happened in the north to make people forget, causing science to have to start all over again from scratch rather than building on what went before. What could this cataclysm have been?</p>
<p>I imagine the Black Death couldn’t have helped, but I suspect it began earlier than that. I think the Emu deception got out of hand somewhere and spread, causing more and more people to think themselves greater than the land, greater than others, greater than the women who hold our lives in their hands and bellies. Whatever it is, this cataclysm is growing and I wonder how we can stand against it.</p>
<p>Max responds:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Stone teaches us that we should be strong no matter what tries to crack us or wear us down, keeping an unbreakable core through your culture and your beliefs. The majority of this earth is rock, and while water and plants make up its surface, the body of the earth, the part that keeps it all together, is rock. </p>
<p>You can have life and creation but it will all crumble without a solid base, same with society, companies, relationships, identities, knowledge, almost anything both tangible and intangible. Like those forests and trees sitting as a skin over the rocks of the earth — without that strength inside, without that stone, it would crumble.</p>
</blockquote>
<h2>Uluru rocks</h2>
<p>Thinking about the shape of the world Max describes and the thin skin around it, I reflect on the physics of our creation stories and the way rocks wear away over time into balls. </p>
<p>I perceive a pattern in the universe whereby the most efficient shape for holding matter together is a sphere. I might say to the growing numbers of flat-earth theorists out there, “Blow me a flat bubble and I’ll consider your theory.” But that would be placing myself in a greater-than position, so I need to check myself and pay attention to them, remembering that there is always value in marginal viewpoints.</p>
<p>So I listen to them online and realise that the sphere is not the final shape of this creation process. Our own galaxy began as a sphere and flattened into a disc and the earth is gradually flattening itself too, as it spins like a lump of clay on a wheel. It’s only flattened by just over 20 kilometres at the poles so far, but it’s getting there. It’s a good thing I didn’t dismiss the flat-earthers out of hand, otherwise I might never have understood that properly.</p>
<figure class="align-left zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/290470/original/file-20190902-175700-1i4lm62.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/290470/original/file-20190902-175700-1i4lm62.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/290470/original/file-20190902-175700-1i4lm62.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=918&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/290470/original/file-20190902-175700-1i4lm62.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=918&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/290470/original/file-20190902-175700-1i4lm62.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=918&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/290470/original/file-20190902-175700-1i4lm62.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1153&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/290470/original/file-20190902-175700-1i4lm62.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1153&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/290470/original/file-20190902-175700-1i4lm62.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1153&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption"></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>But what use could come from that kind of thinking? Well, thought experiment might yield a few applications. Packaging, for example, might make more efficient use of space and resources if we considered that you can get a hell of a lot more into a small sphere than a big box. </p>
<p>But then what would stop those spheres rolling off the shelves? The flat-earthers resolve this — just squash the spheres down a bit. Thank you, flat-earthers. That innovation could save a bit of landfill, buy us a little time.</p>
<p>Max thinks it will take a bigger shift in thinking to stave off planetary destruction, that we need to learn more about respect from the stones. I agree — the understanding that we are no greater or lesser than a rock would certainly change things if a critical mass of people all came to it at once. </p>
<p>Anyone who thinks they’re better than a rock should be turned into one — then they would find out they’re not that special, and they could finally be happy. Max suggests that in recent decades people have been becoming aware of rock spirit, reminding me of what has been going on at Uluru.</p>
<p>There is a shed there full of rocks. For a long time, tourists took stones away from that sacred site as souvenirs, then a few decades ago something strange began to happen. The tourists <a href="https://www.news.com.au/travel/australian-holidays/northern-territory/the-souvenir-from-uluru-you-should-never-take/news-story/31345382f651611f088775ae0eb16e5f">started mailing the rocks back</a> with panicked reports of weird happenings, disturbed sleep, bad luck, ghostly visitations and terrible accidents. Somehow they knew it was because of the rocks, and were sending them back with desperate apologies. So many were returned that they had to build a big storage shed to house them.</p>
<p>In our Law we know that rocks are sentient and contain spirit. You can’t just pick one up and carry it home, as you will disturb its spirit and it will disturb you in turn. If you sit at any campfire for a yarn with Aboriginal people anywhere on this continent, you will be sure to hear a cautionary tale about a relative who was silly enough to pick up a rock and take it home, who then got sick or was haunted or killed or went crazy. </p>
<p>A lot of rocks are benevolent and enjoy being used and traded, but you have to follow the guidance of the old people to know which ones you can use. Rocks are to be respected.</p>
<p>Perhaps further work needs to be done on what constitutes consciousness and what constitutes life. If the definitions of these things could include rocks as sentient beings, it would go a long way towards stemming the emu-like behaviours that are running rampant across the earth and cyberspace right now. Either that, or we could start mailing those Uluru rocks out to all the narcissists to give them a lesson in respect for others.</p>
<p><em>This is an edited extract from Tyson Yunkaporta’s Sand Talk: How Indigenous Thinking Can Save the World, Text Publishing.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/122617/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Tyson Yunkaporta does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>There are memorial stones scattered along songlines throughout the Australian landscape, victims and transgressors transformed into rock following epic struggles to stand as cautionary tales.Tyson Yunkaporta, Senior Lecturer Indigenous Knowledges, Deakin UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/829122018-12-12T19:10:59Z2018-12-12T19:10:59ZAustralia’s problem with Aboriginal World Heritage<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/250137/original/file-20181211-76977-mt41uv.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Uluru-Kata Tjuta: of 19 Australian World Heritage sites this is one of only two that recognise the values of 'living' Aboriginal culture.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Shutterstock</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Journalist Stan Grant once compared our Indigenous cultural heritage to the <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/australia-news/2017/oct/13/stan-grant-compares-indigenous-cultural-sites-to-the-sistine-chapel">Vatican’s Sistine Chapel</a>. Ironically, though Grant pointed to the Lake Mungo site in the Willandra Lakes as an example, Aboriginal people are poorly represented by Australia’s World Heritage sites. Torres Strait Islanders are not represented at all. </p>
<p>Of 19 World Heritage sites across the country, including such wonders as the Great Barrier Reef and the Sydney Opera House, only two, Kakadu and Uluru-Kata Tjuta, recognise the values of “living” Aboriginal culture, alongside the breathtaking natural features in those areas. These are what UNESCO calls “mixed” sites, bringing nature and culture together. </p>
<p>Australia’s two other such sites - the Tasmanian Wilderness, and the Willandra lakes - recognise archaeological records of Aboriginal people, along with natural values, but not contemporary Indigenous rights and associations.</p>
<p>None of Australia’s three sites inscribed purely for cultural values recognises Aboriginal people. They are the Sydney Opera House, the Royal Exhibition Building in Melbourne, and a multi-component listing of convict sites across the country including Port Arthur in Tasmania. </p>
<p>Aboriginal people rightly remain concerned, and often angry, that they were excluded from the original nominations of all of Australia’s World Heritage sites, natural, cultural and mixed. Yet they also remain deeply sceptical about the benefits of such listing. </p>
<h2>Some progress</h2>
<p>There has been some progress. Australia received enormous international credit for modifying, in 1994, the original Uluru-Kata Tjuta nomination to recognise living Aboriginal culture. But the real turnaround has been when Aboriginal people have directed these processes themselves. </p>
<p>After years of work, Gunditjmara people succeeded in having the <a href="https://theconversation.com/search/result?sg=d22d9c76-d498-49fe-b417-3a1abf803265&sp=1&sr=1&url=%2Fthe-detective-work-behind-the-budj-bim-eel-traps-world-heritage-bid-71800">site of Budj Bim</a> on Aboriginal land in southwest Victoria, placed on Australia’s Tentative World Heritage List. The site includes a remarkable system of eel traps around Lake Condah. Elements of these traps date back over 6,500 years. This is the first step in the long process of gaining World Heritage recognition.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/250139/original/file-20181211-76965-nmbwxp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/250139/original/file-20181211-76965-nmbwxp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/250139/original/file-20181211-76965-nmbwxp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/250139/original/file-20181211-76965-nmbwxp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/250139/original/file-20181211-76965-nmbwxp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/250139/original/file-20181211-76965-nmbwxp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/250139/original/file-20181211-76965-nmbwxp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/250139/original/file-20181211-76965-nmbwxp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Remains of a 1,700 year old stone house at Budj Bim, Victoria.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/82134796@N03/17412056436/in/photolist-swDkKA-9cHWct-9cHWoi-9cM2X9-siRj1S-25uik8G-26SFowX-25uijxJ-L7mwzh-28fhttH-7gFAgK-siZbAK-7gKyhf-uEviXt-ayveyB-ayvdsD-ayxTWW-rDBnSP-sAoM7Z-sAeLKq-28aYJcG-sArJ2P-sy95rf-sAoWTn-shk31S-Q3xtaQ-Q6SqW4-PwZe9f-Q6SSrH-PSU2sS-AAnF1i-sLE1Y5-t1TT5d-Fqo7kQ-GiuYBL-FqmLUs-GeXCPe-FqnQ1L-GcEwwG-GkQJEe-FqotBN-Fqy8z2-FVKQbJ-Gf177B-GiwXbf-FqEMog-FqtY6b-GcLiBG-FVGpKA-GeXP4x">denisbin/Flickr</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/4.0/">CC BY-ND</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Recently the World Heritage Committee established a <a href="https://whc.unesco.org/en/news/1841/">forum for Indigenous peoples</a> - in the making since the early 2000s. With the issue now so firmly on the international agenda, Australia will come under intense scrutiny to lift its game regarding Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander World Heritage. How might that be done?</p>
<h2>Indigenous heritage now</h2>
<p>World Heritage sites are assessed against <a href="https://whc.unesco.org/en/criteria/">ten criteria</a> across natural and cultural values. Originally highly Eurocentric, these criteria have gradually widened to become more inclusive, especially of Indigenous people.</p>
<p>Uluru-Kata Tjuta has long been held up as the paragon of this shift. It was originally listed as World Heritage in 1987, solely for its environmental characteristics. It was relisted in 1994 to include Aboriginal values, recognising the importance of Uluru and Kata Tjuta to the Traditional Owners, the Anangu people. Today, the area is recognised for being one of the most ancient human landscapes in the world, including its spiritual dimensions. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/250135/original/file-20181211-76977-yikeh2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/250135/original/file-20181211-76977-yikeh2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/250135/original/file-20181211-76977-yikeh2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=416&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/250135/original/file-20181211-76977-yikeh2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=416&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/250135/original/file-20181211-76977-yikeh2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=416&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/250135/original/file-20181211-76977-yikeh2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=523&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/250135/original/file-20181211-76977-yikeh2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=523&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/250135/original/file-20181211-76977-yikeh2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=523&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Rock art at Uluru.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Shutterstock</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/why-we-are-banning-tourists-from-climbing-uluru-86755">Why we are banning tourists from climbing Uluru</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>Unlike Uluru-Kata Tjuta, and, later, Kakadu, the Tasmanian Wilderness and Willandra are recognised for their archaeological and rock-art sites, rather than for their living heritage. Willandra, for instance, celebrates archaeological evidence that demonstrates an Aboriginal presence more than 40,000 years ago, in what was then a lush environment quite unlike the present semi-arid conditions. </p>
<p>Such archaeological and rock-art sites are unquestionably important for the extraordinary history they contain, and Aboriginal people have a particular attachment to them as evidence of their ancient and continuing connection with their land. They are actively involved in management of these places for that very reason. </p>
<p>Yet the cultural value of these sites remains defined by non-Aboriginal archaeologists, rather than Aboriginal belief systems or political aspirations.</p>
<p>The Tasmanian Wilderness is recognised for being one of the last expanses of temperate rainforest in the world. It also includes evidence in limestone caves of Aboriginal occupation up to 35,000 years ago. Yet the listing fails to identify or formally recognise the relationship between that area – particularly the hand-stencil, rock-art sites – and Tasmanian Aboriginal people today.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/friday-essay-how-archaeology-helped-save-the-franklin-river-92510">Friday essay: how archaeology helped save the Franklin River</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>Outdated process</h2>
<p>We are investigating what World Heritage might better deliver to Indigenous people. One of our major cases is the popular tourist destination of K’Gari (Fraser Island), given a World Heritage listing for its natural heritage in 1992. Some members of the local Butchulla community want Aboriginal heritage included in the listing. </p>
<p>Many archaeological and Butchulla story sites at K'gari are unquestionably unique to the Butchulla people and have great significance for the community today. <a href="http://fido.org.au/moonbi/backgrounders/71%20Balarrgan.pdf">Takky Wooroo</a> (Indian Head), the rocky headland that anchors the vast sand island in place, is one well-known example.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/250140/original/file-20181211-76956-bpc666.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/250140/original/file-20181211-76956-bpc666.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/250140/original/file-20181211-76956-bpc666.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/250140/original/file-20181211-76956-bpc666.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/250140/original/file-20181211-76956-bpc666.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/250140/original/file-20181211-76956-bpc666.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/250140/original/file-20181211-76956-bpc666.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/250140/original/file-20181211-76956-bpc666.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Takky Wooroo (Indian Head) anchors the vast sand island of K'Gari (Fraser Island).</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Shutterstock</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>However the Butchulla face hurdles in having this heritage recognised. The first is proving that their heritage is “better” than examples of Aboriginal heritage elsewhere. The second is demonstrating a continuous connection to it.</p>
<p>Both of these criteria are central to the World Heritage process, but are legacies of an outdated approach to Aboriginal culture. The process lumps diverse Aboriginal people into one group, when we know that Australia was home to hundreds of different peoples. </p>
<p>While the connection of the Butchulla to their heritage has already been recognised under Native Title, we would never assume that European cultures must remain unchanged since 1700 to be recognised as heritage. </p>
<h2>How to do better</h2>
<p>Our research is consistently finding that Aboriginal people are deeply sceptical about the benefits of World Heritage listing, despite efforts by State and Commonwealth governments to ensure Aboriginal input. </p>
<p>One concern is that World Heritage is seen as universal, something for all people. But some Aboriginal people see this as diminishing their very particular attachment to places, such as the remains of Mungo Man at the Willandra Lakes, an ancestor of deep personal and community significance. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/250143/original/file-20181211-76956-1kqsl12.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/250143/original/file-20181211-76956-1kqsl12.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/250143/original/file-20181211-76956-1kqsl12.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/250143/original/file-20181211-76956-1kqsl12.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/250143/original/file-20181211-76956-1kqsl12.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/250143/original/file-20181211-76956-1kqsl12.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/250143/original/file-20181211-76956-1kqsl12.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/250143/original/file-20181211-76956-1kqsl12.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">‘Mungo Man’ was repatriated to the Willandra Lakes, where the remains were found, in 2017.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">PERRY DUFFIN</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>What can we do better? It is simple. <em>All</em> future heritage sites should canvass Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander involvement early in the nomination process, even those where there is no obvious Aboriginal link to the site. This process is already retrospectively underway for <a href="http://www.environment.gov.au/heritage/publications/australian-heritage-strategy">Australia’s natural sites</a>
and in 2012, it meant the <a href="http://www.environment.gov.au/heritage/places/world/wet-tropics">Indigenous heritage values</a> of Queensland’s Wet Tropics were recognised at a national level, which is vital to having them recognised internationally.</p>
<p>We should also support Indigenous people to make their own nominations. This is what’s happening at Budj Bim. While non-Indigenous archaeologists are helping with the nomination, it is being driven by local Aboriginal people. They have linked the archaeological value to both ancestral stories, and to the Gunditjmara’s continuing efforts to maintain and protect their heritage today. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/the-detective-work-behind-the-budj-bim-eel-traps-world-heritage-bid-71800">The detective work behind the Budj Bim eel traps World Heritage bid</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>What other possible sites are there?</h2>
<p>There are a great range of other amazing sites that we know are “out there”. Take the famed “Dreaming tracks” and “songlines” that criss-cross the continent, for instance. Tracing the <a href="https://theconversation.com/songlines-tracking-the-seven-sisters-is-a-must-visit-exhibition-for-all-australians-89293">travels of ancestral beings</a>, they encode the locations of living places and sacred spaces, mapping the disposition of resources across the landscape and through seasonal cycles. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/songlines-tracking-the-seven-sisters-is-a-must-visit-exhibition-for-all-australians-89293">Songlines: Tracking the Seven Sisters is a must-visit exhibition for all Australians</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>They encompass some of the nation’s most dramatic natural features as well as camping places, sources of water, food and other resources, art sites and Indigenous sacred places, thus combining natural and cultural, tangible and intangible, and ancestral as well as living heritage. </p>
<p>With suitable protection of secret-sacred information, as well as the routes themselves and the specific sites they incorporate, Aboriginal songlines and the routes of ancestor-heroes in Torres Strait could be a future World Heritage nomination. A number are already on various state government heritage lists.</p>
<p>Similar nominations are appearing in other parts of the world, such as the recently-listed mixed site of <a href="http://pimachiowinaki.org/">Pimachiowin Aki</a>, co-developed by the Ojibwe (Anishinaabe) peoples “in the heart of Canada’s boreal forest” - not least because of precedents set by Australia over the years.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/82912/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Ian Lilley has a Discovery grant from the Australian Research Council for the study mentioned in the text. He is affiliated with ICOMOS and IUCN, the statutory Advisory Bodies to UNESCO on cultural and natural World Heritage respectively. </span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Celmara Pocock holds a Discovery Project grant from the Australian Research Council for the study mentioned in the text. Celmara is affiliated with ICOMOS the statutory Advisory Body to UNESCO on cultural World Heritage nominations.</span></em></p>Of 19 World Heritage sites across the country, only two, Kakadu and Uluru-Kata Tjuta, recognise the values of “living” Aboriginal culture. None of Australia’s three sites inscribed purely for cultural values recognises Aboriginal people.Ian Lilley, Professor in Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Studies, The University of QueenslandCelmara Pocock, Associate Professor, School of Arts and Communication, University of Southern QueenslandLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/868312017-11-08T02:27:11Z2017-11-08T02:27:11ZClosing Uluru to climbers is better for tourism in the long run<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/193348/original/file-20171106-1014-7g7p96.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">The Anangu people actually offer visitors a range of eco-cultural tourism activities that focus on sharing Indigenous culture, knowledge and traditions.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Leo Li/Flickr</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/">CC BY-SA</a></span></figcaption></figure><p><a href="http://theconversation.com/why-we-are-banning-tourists-from-climbing-uluru-86755">Closing Uluru to climbers</a> empowers Indigenous people to teach visitors about their culture on their own terms, which is more sustainable for tourism in the long run.</p>
<p>Uluru is a drawcard for international and domestic tourists, and is visited by over 250,000 people per year. A substantial number of these choose to climb the rock. On busy days, the number can be in the hundreds. This is despite being asked by the traditional owners, the Anangu people, to respect their wishes, culture and law and not climb Uluru. </p>
<p>The Anangu people actually offer visitors a range of eco-cultural tourism activities that focus on sharing Indigenous culture, knowledge and traditions, which don’t involve planting feet on a sacred place. These activities including nature walks, painting workshops, bush yarns and bush food experiences.</p>
<p><a href="http://theconversation.com/why-we-are-banning-tourists-from-climbing-uluru-86755">This decision</a> to close the rock to climbers comes after many years of conceding rights back to the Anangu, and is possibly one of the few times where Indigenous values have truly been prioritised over other interests.</p>
<h2>Giving power back to Uluru’s traditional owners</h2>
<p>The Uluru-Kata Tjuta National Park, declared in 1950, was handed back to the Anangu on October 26, 1985. While the agreement required the park to be leased to the Australian Parks and Wildlife Services under a co-management arrangement, the handover was a <a href="https://parksaustralia.gov.au/uluru/pub/fs-handback.pdf">symbolic high point for land rights</a>.</p>
<p>In practice, however, aspects of the park’s operations were contrary to the traditional owners’ approach to conservation and management. For instance, <a href="https://www.aph.gov.au/About_Parliament/Parliamentary_Departments/Parliamentary_Library/pubs/rp/RP9697/97rp2">park management models</a> stated the need to place:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>… emphasis on developing acceptable patterns of use of the physical environment and not on recognition of social and spiritual values of land to Indigenous people. </p>
</blockquote>
<p>In 2010, the park’s <a href="http://www.environment.gov.au/resource/management-plan-2010-2020-uluru-kata-tjuta-national-park">management plan proposed</a> to close the rock if the proportion of visitors who wished to climb Uluru was below 20%. An independent analysis of track counter data and visitor statistics undertaken by the Griffith Institute for Tourism over a four year period revealed that in almost all circumstances (and even with allowance for track counter inaccuracy) the proportion was under 20%. </p>
<p>Finally on November 1, the Uluru-Kata Tjuta National Park Board of Management, consisting of eight traditional owners and four government officials, voted unanimously to close Uluru (Ayers Rock) to climbers. The local tourism industry supported the decision.</p>
<h2>Indigenous tourism on the rise</h2>
<p>Increasingly, visitors around the world are seeking such opportunities to experience various <a href="http://www.tandfonline.com/doi/abs/10.1080/1743873X.2011.558198">aspects of Indigenous culture</a>. Not surprisingly, Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples are realising the sociocultural and economic opportunities of tourism and have now become an integral <a href="https://books.google.com.au/books?id=pZzvd0bcRFEC&pg=PR4&dq=Zeppel,+H.+(2006).+Indigenous+ecotourism:+Sustainable+development+and+management.+Oxfordshire,+UK:+CAB+International.&hl=en&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwiSvfK0zajXAhUBLJQKHT92DXYQ6AEIKzAB#v=onepage&q=Zeppel%2C%20H.%20(2006).%20Indigenous%20ecotourism%3A%20Sustainable%20development%20and%20management.%20Oxfordshire%2C%20UK%3A%20CAB%20International.&f=false">part of the Australian tourism industry</a>.</p>
<p>But for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples, getting involved in the tourism industry comes with <a href="http://www.tandfonline.com/doi/abs/10.1080/09669582.2016.1189925">its own set of problems</a>. They have been <a href="http://www.tandfonline.com/doi/abs/10.1080/09669582.2011.573074">tasked with juggling</a> their heritage, customs, culture and traditions with government initiatives that <a href="http://www.tandfonline.com/doi/abs/10.1080/09669582.2011.573074">prioritise economic over socio-cultural development</a>. For example, as Quandamooka Dreaming “targets big dollars from tourism” in SE Queensland, the traditional owners are successfully balancing their socio-economic aspirations with cultural lores by determining that some sacred sites will remain accessible only to elders and initiated Indigenous Quandamooka people. But other sites will be <a href="https://www.brisbanetimes.com.au/national/queensland/quandamooka-dreaming-targets-big-dollars-from-tourism-20161018-gs58sw.html">open to eco-tourists</a>. </p>
<p>However, too often, tourism development is associated with issues of commercialisation, lack of <a href="https://research-repository.griffith.edu.au/bitstream/handle/10072/47021/80632_1.pdf?sequence=1">authenticity and exploitation of culture</a>.</p>
<h2>Empowering Indigenous Australians</h2>
<p>Given the considerable pressure tourism places on local resources and places, the involvement of local communities and different groups within them is now considered critical for achieving sustainable tourism. </p>
<p><a href="http://publications.unwto.org/publication/managing-growth-and-sustainable-tourism-governance-asia-and-pacific">A recent report</a> concludes that participation and empowerment of local communities are success factors to managing tourism growth. It’s the local community that looks after the destination, and it can make or break a tourist’s experience. The report finds developing tourism without input from the local people has often led to conflict. </p>
<p>Closing Uluru for climbing should be seen as a shining example of sustainable tourism being a vehicle for the preservation, maintenance and ongoing development of culture, traditions and knowledge. </p>
<p>And when reconciliation principles are practised not preached, traditional custodians of the land are afforded due respect. This then leads them to share their 60,000 year old knowledge of the management of the land we are privileged to utilise as tourism destinations.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/86831/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Michelle Whitford has previously received funding from AIATSIS and undertaken research for Indigenous Business Australia. </span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Susanne Becken receives funding from the National Environmental Science Program and she received funding from the Australian Government (Director of National Parks) to assess visitor numbers in the Uluru-Kata Tjuta National Park. She is affiliated with the Pacific Asia Tourism Association through their Sustainability and Social Responsibility Committee. </span></em></p>Closing Uluru to climbers is vital to the preservation, maintenance and on-going development of culture, traditions and knowledge.Michelle Whitford, Associate Professor of Indigenous Tourism, Griffith UniversitySusanne Becken, Professor of Sustainable Tourism and Director, Griffith Institute for Tourism, Griffith UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/769332017-05-29T03:55:21Z2017-05-29T03:55:21ZExplainer: the rise of naked tourism<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/168017/original/file-20170505-21635-1685lzw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Some travellers may forget that where they travel is not their home, and that cultural sensitivities may differ greatly.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Naked At Monuments/Facebook</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>In my American youth, there was a rude phrase describing kids acting up: <a href="http://idioms.thefreedictionary.com/showing+your+butt">“showing your butt”</a>. It seems some tourists are now taking this literally.</p>
<p>Recently, tourists have been <a href="http://ideaspots.com/showing-butt-beautiful-landscapes-new-trend/">stripping down and photographing themselves</a> at the world’s iconic locations to the bewilderment of some and the disgust of others. Social media is abuzz as tourists get snaps of their uncovered backsides at national parks, on top of mountains, and at World Heritage sites.</p>
<p>The desire to reveal one’s naked glory is not a new thing, as streakers at sporting events and the devotees of nude beaches and nudist camps demonstrate. But this trend of “naked tourism” reveals something more than just bare bottoms – and it may call for some active interventions.</p>
<h2>Exposing the reasons for baring it all</h2>
<p>In 2010, a French-born exotic dancer <a href="http://www.abc.net.au/news/2010-06-28/uluru-stripper-just-wanted-to-rock/883870">filmed herself stripping</a> on the sacred monolith Uluru in central Australia. Some labelled this a “publicity grab”.</p>
<p>In early 2015, three young Frenchmen were charged with public exposure and pornography, given suspended sentences, fined, deported and banned from visiting Cambodia for four years after <a href="https://news.artnet.com/art-world/cambodia-deports-three-frenchmen-over-naked-photos-at-angkor-wat-239723">stripping down at Angkor Wat</a>.</p>
<p>Lest we think this is a French thing, North Americans and Australians have bared their backsides at Machu Picchu in Peru. This led CNN to <a href="http://edition.cnn.com/2014/03/20/travel/naked-tourists-machu-picchu-peru/index.html">warn tourists</a> to “watch out for bare butts”.</p>
<p>In the selfie era, attention-seeking and shock value are clear individual motivations. But perhaps there is more to it.</p>
<p>Social media is certainly encouraging the practice. A good example of this is the <a href="https://www.facebook.com/n4kedatmonuments">Naked At Monuments Facebook page</a>, which describes its purpose as “we get naked around the world”. There is also the <a href="http://www.mynakedtrip.com/index.php">My Naked Trip blog</a>. Together, these indicate naked tourism may be an emerging trend rather than an oddity. </p>
<h2>Insulting the host community</h2>
<p>Some travellers may forget that where they travel is not their home, and that cultural sensitivities may differ greatly. </p>
<p>While some cultures view revealing the body and its parts as an act of appreciation, others have quite different views. When tourists insist on imposing their values against their hosts’ wishes, profound emotions can be sparked. These may included anger, dismay and hurt.</p>
<p>In response to the stripping performance on Uluru, Aboriginal performer Jimmy Little <a href="http://www.abc.net.au/news/2010-06-28/uluru-stripper-just-wanted-to-rock/883870">communicated the hurt</a> such a disrespectful act can inflict:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>We are a proud race like every race in the world. We have sacred sites and we have deep beliefs that if people cross that line, they’re really almost spitting in your face, or slapping you in the face and saying ‘I can live my life the way I want to’. </p>
</blockquote>
<p>In the Angkor Wat case, local authorities acted with some anger at the insult to the ancient, sacred temple complex. A spokeswoman for the Apsara Authority, the agency that manages Angkor Wat, said:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>The temple is a worship site and their behaviour is inappropriate. They were nude.</p>
</blockquote>
<h2>How to (ad)dress this issue</h2>
<p>The first line of defence is regulations with penalties that are enforced. </p>
<p>In the Angkor Wat case, the governing authorities enforced strong penalties on the young men for their actions. But for countries dependent on tourism, it takes considerable will to go down this path. The ongoing tolerance of bikinis on beaches in Muslim countries – albeit sometimes on restricted sites such as gated resorts or islands – attests to this. </p>
<p>Tourism between cultures <a href="https://books.google.com.au/books?hl=en&lr=&id=XJ88BjIeRH8C&oi=fnd&pg=PP2&dq=brent+lovelock&ots=mUMF7xDaJb&sig=tAvlcUaJ0yHH9JOhDkOF6F-EV6Q#v=onepage&q=brent%20lovelock&f=false">is a moral space</a> as much as it is a commercial one. The question is: in a time of creeping commercialism, individualism and me-oriented cultures, how can we ensure the cross-cultural encounters of tourism are respectful of the host’s cultures and values?</p>
<p>Codes of conduct are one tool for consumer education of travellers. The authority governing Angkor Wat responded to the naked tourists by updating <a href="http://apsaraauthority.gov.kh/?page=front&lg=en">visitor protocols</a> in multiple languages.</p>
<p>Few know a <a href="http://ethics.unwto.org/en/content/full-text-global-code-ethics-tourism">Global Code of Ethics for Tourism</a> exists. It claims:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Tourists have the responsibility to acquaint themselves, even before their departure, with the characteristics of the countries they are preparing to visit.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Tourism is based on hospitality, and this requires respect for hosts. They want visitors to voluntarily display respect. </p>
<p>Climbing Uluru is a great example of this. The Anangu traditional owners do not want visitors to climb this sacred place, but still do not ban it outright. One reason is <a href="https://parksaustralia.gov.au/uluru/do/we-dont-climb.html">deeply spiritual</a>: the Anangu want visitors to respect their values and choose not to climb.</p>
<p>Such an approach has much to teach us about the meaning of travel between cultures. While today’s tourists travel freely to enjoy the world’s treasures, it does not mean such travel should be completely uninhibited. </p>
<p>Different cultures hold different values, and the joy of travel should come from engaging with these differences and learning from them. Responsible tourism built on respect ensures a warm welcome.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/76933/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Freya Higgins-Desbiolles is affiliated with the Centre for Tourism and Leisure Management, University of South Australia. She is an affiliate of Equality in Tourism, a member of the Tourism Advocacy and Action Forum, co-founder of the International Peace Tourism Commission and formerly involved in responsible tourism initiatives for Community Aid Abroad (now Oxfam Australia).</span></em></p>The trend of ‘naked tourism’ reveals something more than just bare bottoms – and it may call for some active interventions.Freya Higgins-Desbiolles, Senior Lecturer in Tourism, University of South AustraliaLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/784582017-05-28T13:44:39Z2017-05-28T13:44:39ZUluru call for constitutional First Nations Voice presents new challenge for Referendum Council<p>If earlier timetables had been achievable and voters persuadable, we might by now have had same sex marriage on the statute books and agreement to the recognition of Australia’s first people in the constitution.</p>
<p>Instead, the first remains on the horizon and the second is either over the horizon or overtaken altogether.</p>
<p>With the Senate’s failure to pass the marriage equality plebiscite, some Liberals might have a go at getting a parliamentary vote. However an attempt would be fraught within Coalition ranks. At least we can be confident, however, that same sex marriage would come if and when there is a Labor government.</p>
<p>The way ahead for giving Aboriginal people an appropriate place in the constitution is much more problematic.</p>
<p>Friday’s “Uluru Statement from the Heart” coming out of last week’s First Nations national constitutional convention made it plain that Indigenous people would not unite behind any minimalist position.</p>
<p>Indeed, the meeting turned away from the sort of constitutional recognition and rewriting that the debate has been around. Rather, it called for a two pronged approach: the “establishment of a First Nations Voice enshrined in the constitution”, and a commission to supervise a treaty-making process that would be outside the constitution.</p>
<p>The Uluru Statement now goes to the Referendum Council, which advises Malcolm Turnbull and Bill Shorten “on progress and next steps towards a referendum to recognise Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples in the Australian Constitution.” It reports to the leaders by the end of next month.</p>
<p>The council must take into account not just what Indigenous people want but what the community more broadly would likely support. This is in order to meet the referendum requirement of a national majority, and a majority in at least four of the six states.</p>
<p>The latest development has just made harder the council’s task of producing viable advice.</p>
<p>It is in a bind. Does it go along with the Uluru proposal, or does it try to get back to some form of the original idea of recognition?</p>
<p>It was Tony Abbott’s aspiration – it did not get beyond that – that the “Recognise” referendum be held on May 27 this year – the 50th anniversary of the historic 1967 referendum.</p>
<p>In retrospect, the thinking that it was necessary to take time to build consensus now looks questionable. It might have been better to push ahead quickly.</p>
<p>What’s concerning now is not just that the timetable has slipped but that chances of getting any agreed change through a referendum in the foreseeable future have grown dimmer.</p>
<p>At the same time as it’s become clear that Indigenous people won’t accept a limited change, the right in Australian politics has become more determined to oppose any amendment.</p>
<p>In a Saturday speech marking the 50th anniversary of the 1967 referendum and the 25th anniversary of the Mabo decision Turnbull reminded people that: “No political deal, no cross party compromise, no leaders’ handshake can deliver constitutional change.</p>
<p>"To do that a constitutionally conservative nation must be persuaded that the proposed amendments respect the fundamental values of the constitution and will deliver precise changes, clearly understood, that benefit all Australians.”</p>
<p>He pointed out that of 44 referendums, only eight have succeeded. “The last remotely controversial amendment to be approved was in 1946. Indeed, history would indicate that to succeed not only must there be overwhelming support, but minimal, or at least tepid, opposition”.</p>
<p>From early on, Shorten was quicker than the Coalition to appreciate that Indigenous people would only settle for a robust approach.</p>
<p>Shorten still wants to be optimistic, on Saturday stressing the importance of “an open mind on the big questions – the form recognition takes, on treaties, on changes required to the constitution and on the best way to fulfil the legitimate and long-held aspiration of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people for a meaningful, equal place in our democratic system”.</p>
<p>But a Labor government would not have any easier time delivering a positive referendum outcome than the Coalition. It might be willing to go further towards the wishes of Aboriginal people – but that would take it further away from broad community acceptability.</p>
<p>Moreover, any referendum under Labor could potentially face an even tougher battle: a Coalition opposition, led for example by Peter Dutton, could be expected to run a hard line against anything in the way of constitutional change put up by an ALP government.</p>
<p>The father of the “First Nations Voice” is Indigenous leader Noel Pearson, who was originally looking for some constitutional move that would be acceptable to conservatives. Ironically, the “voice” plan endorsed at Uluru may be seen by many as too radical and difficult to sell.</p>
<p>The body written into the constitution would actually be established by the Parliament. But a referendum debate would focus on the detail of its powers, composition and breadth of activities. The argument would be tinged by memories of the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Commission (ATSIC) that had both representative and executive functions, and finally lost the support of the Coalition government and the Labor opposition.</p>
<p>An easier course for a “First Nations Voice” body would be one that didn’t involve the constitutional hurdle.</p>
<p>The ever-worsening prospects for constitutional change must soon raise the question of whether this path should be set aside for the time being. And that would be a great pity, given the work and the hope that so many people have invested in the quest.</p>
<p><strong>POSTSCRIPT – Coalition fails to improve in Newspoll</strong></p>
<p>Labor has maintained its 53-47% lead over the Coalition in Monday’s Newspoll.</p>
<p>This is despite Opposition leader Bill Shorten coming under some sustained criticism for the ALP’s stands on schools funding and the proposed rise in the Medicare levy.</p>
<p>This is the 13th consecutive Newspoll in which the Coalition has been behind on the two-party vote.</p>
<p>Both Coalition and Labor are on 36% primary vote, steady compared with a fortnight ago. The Greens are polling 10% and One Nation 9%, with others on 9%.</p>
<p>Malcolm Turnbull’s net satisfaction improved slightly in the fortnight, from minus 20 to minus 19, as did Bill Shorten’s, which went from minus 22 to minus 20. Turnbull leads Shorten as better PM 45-33%, compared with 44-31% in the previous poll.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/78458/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
At the same time as it’s become clear that Indigenous people won’t accept a limited change, the right in Australian politics has become more determined to oppose any amendment.Michelle Grattan, Professorial Fellow, University of CanberraLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/778532017-05-26T11:23:15Z2017-05-26T11:23:15ZListening to the heart: what now for Indigenous recognition after the Uluru summit?<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/170903/original/file-20170525-13228-szl7m4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">The statement from the constitutional convention at Uluru reflects long-held Indigenous aspirations.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">AAP/Lucy Hughes Jones</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Delegates at the First Nations Constitutional Convention at Uluru have issued a powerful “<a href="https://www.documentcloud.org/documents/3755370-ULURU-STATEMENT-FROM-the-HEART.html">statement from the heart</a>”. They called for the establishment of a “First Nations Voice” enshrined in the Australian Constitution, and a commission to progress treaty-making between governments and Indigenous people. </p>
<p>The Uluru statement reflects long-held Indigenous aspirations. But, in rejecting symbolic constitutional recognition, it puts pressure on Australia’s political leaders. Will they – and non-Indigenous Australians – listen? </p>
<h2>The statement</h2>
<p>The Uluru statement is not a unanimous view. Seven delegates <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/australia-news/2017/may/25/uluru-talks-delegates-walk-out-due-to-sovereignty-and-treaty-fears">walked out in protest on Thursday</a>, concerned that any reform would lead to a loss of sovereignty. Not all <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/australia-news/2017/may/26/uluru-talks-opt-for-sovereign-treaty-not-symbolic-constitutional-recognition">returned</a>.</p>
<p>However, the statement reflects a strong consensus position of Indigenous Australians. It is the culmination of three days of meetings at Uluru, which followed six months of regional dialogues held across Australia. </p>
<p>Grounded in their inherent right to sovereignty, the statement calls for constitutional reform to empower Indigenous people to take “a rightful place in our own country”. The delegates believe this can be achieved through:</p>
<ul>
<li><p>a <a href="http://www.abc.net.au/news/2017-05-26/constitutional-recognition-summit-decision-due-today/8560548">national representative body</a> with the power to advise parliament on laws that affect Indigenous people; and </p></li>
<li><p>a “<a href="http://www.abc.net.au/news/2017-05-26/constitutional-recognition-rejected-by-indigenous-leaders-uluru/8563928">Makarrata Commission</a>” to supervise a process of agreement-making between governments and First Nations, and undertake a public truth-telling process. </p></li>
</ul>
<p>Makarrata is a Yolngu word meaning “a coming together after a struggle”. </p>
<p>These are long-held aspirations. </p>
<h2>A rightful place</h2>
<p>Indigenous Australians have long fought for their rightful place in their own country.</p>
<p>In 1937, William Cooper, secretary of the Aboriginal Advancement League, gathered 1,814 signatures in a <a href="http://www.naa.gov.au/collection/fact-sheets/fs268.aspx">petition to King George V</a> that called for Indigenous representation in the federal parliament. The petition was passed to Prime Minister Joseph Lyons, but cabinet refused to forward it to the king.</p>
<p>In 1963, the Yolngu people in eastern Arnhem Land sent a series of <a href="http://www.foundingdocs.gov.au/item-did-104.html">bark petitions</a> to the parliament. In these they called for recognition of their land, resource and cultural rights, and their sovereignty. </p>
<p>The government had transferred their land to a bauxite mining company without consulting them. The Yolngu people explained that that land “has been hunting and food-gathering land for the Yirrkala tribes from time immemorial”, and the:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>… places sacred to the Yirrkala people, as well as vital to their livelihood are in the excised land. </p>
</blockquote>
<p>They expressed their concern that:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>… their needs and interests will be completely ignored as they have been ignored in the past. </p>
</blockquote>
<p>A few years later, in 1971, more than 1,000 Indigenous Australians signed a <a href="http://vrroom.naa.gov.au/print/?ID=19522">petition organised by the Larrakia people</a>. They described themselves as “refugees in the country of our ancestors”, and called for land rights, a treaty, and political representation. Their voices went unheard. </p>
<p>In 1979, the National Aboriginal Conference, an elected Indigenous body advising government, passed a resolution calling for a “<a href="http://aiatsis.gov.au/collections/collections-online/digitised-collections/treaty/national-aboriginal-conference">Makarrata</a>”. This resolution sparked talk of a treaty within the federal parliament. </p>
<p>Four years later, a Senate committee <a href="http://aiatsis.gov.au/collections/collections-online/digitised-collections/treaty/senate-standing-committee-report">delivered a report</a> on the idea of a treaty. It recommended constitutional change to implement a “compact”. That report was also ignored.</p>
<p>In 1998, the <a href="http://www.australia.gov.au/about-australia/australian-story/bark-petition-barunga-1988">Barunga Statement</a> called on the federal parliament to:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>… negotiate with us a treaty recognising our prior ownership, continued occupation and sovereignty and affirming our human rights and freedom.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Prime Minister Bob Hawke promised to negotiate such a treaty by 1990. But no treaty was forthcoming, and it dropped off the political agenda. </p>
<p>This week Indigenous leaders have again called for a voice in their country. The central concern is an oft-repeated one: that, as a small minority, dispersed across the continent of their ancestors, and continuing to resist the legacy of colonialism, Indigenous Australians have almost no say about legislation that affects them.</p>
<h2>Treaty now?</h2>
<p>A constitutionally enshrined national representative body is an important proposal, but the Makarrata Commission is more significant. </p>
<p>The statement records that a:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Makarrata is the culmination of our agenda.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>For Indigenous people, it:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>… captures our aspirations for a fair and truthful relationship with the people of Australia and a better future for our children based on justice and self-determination. </p>
</blockquote>
<p>Treaties are accepted globally as the means of reaching a settlement between Indigenous peoples and those who have colonised their lands. They are formal agreements, reached via respectful negotiation conducted in good faith, that recognise an inherent right to some level of sovereignty or self-government.</p>
<p>Treaties have been achieved in the US and New Zealand, and are still being negotiated <a href="http://www.bctreaty.net/">in Canada</a>. In contrast, no treaty between Indigenous and non-Indigenous Australians has ever been recognised. </p>
<p>Indigenous Australians are willing to negotiate. But are non-Indigenous Australians ready to enter into respectful negotiations? Or will they, once again, ignore the invitation? </p>
<h2>Next steps</h2>
<p>The Uluru summit was organised by the <a href="https://www.dpmc.gov.au/indigenous-affairs/constitutional-recognition/referendum-council">Referendum Council</a>, a body set up by Malcolm Turnbull and Bill Shorten to advise on the path toward a referendum.</p>
<p>Through the Uluru statement, Indigenous people have invited non-Indigenous Australians to walk together for a better future. The statement is the voice of Indigenous Australians. Now is the time for non-Indigenous Australians to hear that voice.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/77853/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Harry Hobbs gratefully acknowledges the support of the Lionel Murphy Foundation, the Sir Anthony Mason PhD Award in Public Law, and the Australian Government Research Training Program (RTP) Scholarship for funding this research.</span></em></p>Indigenous Australians have issued a statement calling for constitutional reform that is substantive and meaningful.Harry Hobbs, PhD Candidate, Constitutional Law and Indigenous Rights, UNSW SydneyLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/779552017-05-22T19:59:27Z2017-05-22T19:59:27ZExplainer: why 300 Indigenous leaders are meeting at Uluru this week<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/170239/original/file-20170521-12226-r6nwvn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">The constitutional convention is the latest step in the long-running debate on constitutional recognition of Indigenous Australians.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">AAP/Dan Peled</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Around 300 Aboriginal people and Torres Strait Islanders will gather from today at Uluru to hold a <a href="https://www.referendumcouncil.org.au/dialogues">First Nations Convention</a>. Running over four days, the meeting is the culmination of 12 regional dialogues held across the country on the constitutional recognition of Indigenous Australians.</p>
<p>At Uluru, delegates from each dialogue will aim to <a href="https://www.referendumcouncil.org.au/dialogues">reach consensus on</a> whether and how best to achieve this change.</p>
<h2>How did we get here?</h2>
<p>The convention is the latest step in the long-running debate on the constitutional recognition of Indigenous Australians. It has been organised by the <a href="https://www.referendumcouncil.org.au/get-the-facts">Referendum Council</a>, a body jointly established by Malcolm Turnbull and Bill Shorten in December 2015. The council is tasked with providing advice on progress and next steps toward constitutional reform.</p>
<p>In facilitating regional dialogues, the Referendum Council has built on two existing reports.</p>
<p>In 2012, the Expert Panel on Constitutional Recognition of Indigenous Australians <a href="https://www.dpmc.gov.au/resource-centre/indigenous-affairs/final-report-expert-panel-recognising-aboriginal-and-torres-strait-islander-peoples-constitution">recommended a package of reforms</a>. This included: </p>
<ul>
<li><p>a statement of acknowledgment; </p></li>
<li><p>a modification to the wording of the Commonwealth’s lawmaking power in Indigenous affairs; </p></li>
<li><p>a constitutional prohibition on racial discrimination; and </p></li>
<li><p>the removal of a provision that contemplates states disqualifying people from voting based on their race.</p></li>
</ul>
<p>The council also built on the work of a parliamentary committee that <a href="http://www.aph.gov.au/Parliamentary_Business/Committees/Joint/Constitutional_Recognition_of_Aboriginal_and_Torres_Strait_Islander_Peoples/Constitutional_Recognition">reported on the issue</a> in 2015. Like the expert panel, the parliamentary committee consulted extensively with Indigenous peoples and communities, and <a href="http://www.aph.gov.au/Parliamentary_Business/Committees/Joint/Constitutional_Recognition_of_Aboriginal_and_Torres_Strait_Islander_Peoples/Constitutional_Recognition/Final_Report">recommended</a> a similar suite of reforms. </p>
<p>The committee also discussed some options that had emerged since the expert panel’s report. These <a href="https://www.google.com.au/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=web&cd=8&ved=0ahUKEwjsm6bX3_rTAhVDkpQKHRt9CMAQFghQMAc&url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.austlii.edu.au%2Fau%2Fjournals%2FIndigLawB%2F2015%2F25.pdf&usg=AFQjCNFpT0NndisiqpGl6VnbGeS1W8ONNA&sig2=BxlfI_43mFU8J0G6p3KMRw&cad=rja">included a proposal</a> for a body to advise parliament on proposed laws that affect Indigenous people.</p>
<h2>What is the significance of the Uluru meeting?</h2>
<p>Although the expert panel and the parliamentary committee consulted extensively with Indigenous Australians, they also consulted with non-Indigenous Australians. The views of Indigenous Australians were only a small part of their briefs.</p>
<p>The significance of the Referendum Council process lies in it being the first time Indigenous Australians have been asked to deliberate collectively and report back on what recognition means to them. Through this process, <a href="http://insidestory.org.au/the-long-road-to-recognition">they have</a> “reclaimed the movement towards constitutional recognition”.</p>
<p>Attendance at each dialogue was <a href="https://www.referendumcouncil.org.au/dialogues">by invitation</a>. Meetings were capped at 100 participants. 60% of places were reserved for traditional owner groups; 20% for community organisations; and 20% for key individuals. A balance was sought between gender and across age groups. Representation for the Stolen Generations was also key. </p>
<p>The council worked in partnership with a host organisation at each location to ensure the local community was appropriately represented in the process. </p>
<p>The dialogues were conducted as a deliberative forum. Each took place over three days, and included opportunities for large and small group discussions.</p>
<p>The Referendum Council assisted delegates by providing information on the Constitution and the history of constitutional reform. This allowed delegates to discuss and assess different reform options in an informed manner, and to explain what recognition would mean for their communities. </p>
<p>At the <a href="http://insidestory.org.au/the-long-road-to-recognition">end of the three days</a> delegates confirmed a statement of their discussion, and selected ten representatives for the Uluru meeting. </p>
<h2>What will be agreed to?</h2>
<p>It is impossible to know what the outcome of the convention at Uluru will be. But it appears very likely that a consensus on the need for meaningful and practical reform will emerge. </p>
<p><a href="https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2017/may/04/what-constitutes-real-indigenous-policy-reform-here-are-some-clues">Writing earlier this month</a>, Jill Gallagher and Nolan Hunter, conveners of the regional dialogues in Melbourne and Broome, noted all of the dialogues so far conducted had:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>… rejected a purely symbolic or minimalist model in favour of substantive reform.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Substantive reform is more than a statement of acknowledgement. It may include a prohibition on racial discrimination, and an elected Indigenous body with a constitutional role in relation to laws that affect Indigenous peoples. It may also include support for a treaty or treaties – something <a href="https://theconversation.com/will-treaties-with-indigenous-australians-overtake-constitutional-recognition-70524">progressing alongside constitutional recognition</a>.</p>
<p>Ultimately, as Cheryl Axleby and Klynton Wanganeen, co-convenors of the Adelaide regional dialogue, <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2017/apr/20/constitutional-recognition-must-make-indigenous-lives-better-otherwise-whats-the-point">have explained</a>, substantive constitutional reform:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>… is about building a better and fairer Australia as well as making good on past promises – to treat Aboriginal Australians with dignity and respect.</p>
</blockquote>
<h2>What happens next?</h2>
<p>Megan Davis, a member of the Referendum Council, believes the document that will emerge from Uluru will serve as “<a href="http://www.abc.net.au/radionational/programs/drive/indigenous-delegates-prepare-to-meet-at-uluru/8531218">a statement to the Australian people</a>”. </p>
<p>For many Australians, it may be the first time they have heard directly from Indigenous people their views on constitutional recognition. </p>
<p>Following the convention, the Referendum Council will report its final advice on constitutional change to the government and the opposition. Neither the Uluru document nor the Referendum Council report will bind them to any action. </p>
<p>After a considerable process of listening to Indigenous Australians, however, the Uluru statement should inform the model taken to the referendum. This may go further than Turnbull and Shorten are willing to consider right now. But it is difficult to see how doing otherwise would treat Indigenous Australians with dignity and respect.</p>
<p>Ultimately, all Australians need to ask a simple question: is constitutional recognition of Indigenous peoples for the First Australians or for non-Indigenous Australians?</p>
<p>If the former, their views should form the basis for the model. If the latter, then there seems little point in asking them at all.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/77955/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Harry Hobbs gratefully acknowledges the support of the Lionel Murphy Foundation, the Sir Anthony Mason PhD Award in Public Law, and the Australian Government Research Training Program (RTP) Scholarship for funding this research.</span></em></p>At Uluru, Indigenous representatives from across Australia will aim to reach consensus on what constitutional recognition means to them.Harry Hobbs, PhD Candidate, Constitutional Law and Indigenous Rights, UNSW SydneyLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/587292016-05-12T03:20:00Z2016-05-12T03:20:00ZWhy is it still possible to climb Uluru?<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/120961/original/image-20160503-19538-1ks2eue.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Dan Peled/AAP</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Northern Territory Chief Minister Adam Giles has described climbing Ulu<u>r</u>u as an unforgettable tourist experience – comparable to <a href="http://www.abc.net.au/news/2016-04-20/adam-giles-calls-for-renewed-debate-about-uluru/7342208">scaling the Sydney Harbour Bridge</a>. The traditional owners, he has said, could derive important economic benefits from keeping it open. </p>
<p>Yet the A<u>n</u>angu people, Ulu<u>r</u>u’s traditional owners, have asked for decades that tourists not climb it. They <a href="http://www.parksaustralia.gov.au/uluru/do/we-dont-climb.html">explain</a> that Ulu<u>r</u>u is a sacred place; the path followed by the climb represents an important dreaming track and A<u>n</u>angu feel a personal responsibility for the deaths or injuries of climbers. </p>
<p>So why is the climb still an option? </p>
<h2>History of the climb</h2>
<p>Ulu<u>r</u>u has been climbed by tourists for much of the 20th century. In the early 1960s, a safety chain was installed to accommodate the growing number of visitors. Despite this chain, over 30 people have lost their lives climbing “the Rock”. Many more have been injured. Still, about <a href="https://www.environment.gov.au/resource/management-plan-2010-2020-uluru-kata-tjuta-national-park">one-third of visitors</a> choose to climb. </p>
<p>The title for Ulu<u>r</u>u-Kata Tju<u>t</u>a National Park, in which Ulu<u>r</u>u stands, was transferred to A<u>n</u>angu control in 1985. Following the Rock’s handback, the traditional owners were obliged to lease the Park back to the Director of National Parks, with day-to-day management handled by Parks Australia. </p>
<p>At the time of the handover, the Ulu<u>r</u>u-Kata Tju<u>t</u>a National Park board of management (made up of a majority of traditional owners) agreed not to close the climb, to minimise harm to the tourism industry.</p>
<p>In 2010, Parks Australia <a href="http://www.environment.gov.au/system/files/resources/b4822afc-2694-46d4-978c-e298decf4255/files/tourismdirections.pdf">published a report</a> saying the climb would be permanently closed when:</p>
<blockquote>
<ul>
<li>the Board, in consultation with the tourism industry, is satisfied that adequate new visitor experiences have been successfully established, or <br>
<ul>
<li>the proportion of visitors climbing falls below 20 per cent, or <br></li>
<li>the cultural and natural experiences on offer are the critical factors when visitors make their decision to visit the park.</li>
</ul></li>
</ul>
</blockquote>
<p>This means that Parks Australia has a clear mandate to develop alternative tourism products. Despite this, the core business of Parks Australia is conservation, rather than tourism development. </p>
<p>Although there are specialist staff to facilitate A<u>n</u>angu participation in tourism at Ulu<u>r</u>u, an inevitable tension exists between the traditional focus and knowledge base of Park employees and the push to develop A<u>n</u>angu business opportunities.</p>
<h2>Conflicting economic imperatives</h2>
<p>Between 2013 and 2015, I conducted 20 weeks of research at Ulu<u>r</u>u as part of a study undertaken by the Australian National University, in association with Macquarie University. I examined how A<u>n</u>angu use their cultural heritage to earn a living. As I discovered, the environment in which A<u>n</u>angu attempt to develop sustainable alternatives to climbing is extraordinarily challenging. </p>
<p>In this complex cultural and economic situation, one challenge comes from the Ayers Rock Resort. The resort is located 20km from the Rock, and A<u>n</u>angu land rights don’t extend to its grounds. </p>
<p>Instead, Ayers Rock Resort is owned by the Indigenous Land Corporation (ILC), a federal statutory authority that buys land and businesses to realise economic, social, cultural and environmental benefits for Indigenous Australians. </p>
<p>A subsidiary of the ILC, Voyages Indigenous Tourism Australia, has been responsible for running the resort since it was acquired in 2011. Voyages has focused on transforming Ayers Rock Resort into a prime destination for Indigenous tourism.</p>
<p>As an example of the conflict that can arise from this arrangement, we can look at Ma<u>r</u>uku Arts, a locally-based A<u>n</u>angu arts and tourism enterprise. Ma<u>r</u>uku has a regional mandate and serves many communities outside Ulu<u>r</u>u. The resort contracted Ma<u>r</u>uku to run a market stall on its lawn, so guests could buy art and watch demonstrations of local artists at work. </p>
<p>Through its new outlet, Ma<u>r</u>uku is able to put <a href="http://press-files.anu.edu.au/downloads/press/p344543/pdf/ch102.pdf">over A$100,000 extra each year into the local A<u>n</u>angu community</a>. However, Ma<u>r</u>uku has struggled to pay the sales commissions stipulated by the resort, on top of the commission paid to artists and the running costs of the stall. Between May 2012 and April 2015, the A<u>n</u>angu enterprise lost A$16,163 on the market stall, whereas Ayers Rock Resort earned A$112,652 in commission.</p>
<p>As the resort management explained to me, Voyages has invested considerably in developing the market stall infrastructure, and Ma<u>r</u>uku’s market has caused the resort’s income from its own art galleries to drop. It also argues that the market provides new jobs to A<u>n</u>angu.</p>
<p>The market stall represents just one example of the competitive business environment in which not-for-profit A<u>n</u>angu businesses like Ma<u>r</u>uku Arts are trying to survive. </p>
<p>Ayers Rock Resort strives to be profitable, not least because the ILC’s acquisition has resulted in a <a href="http://www.abc.net.au/news/2015-10-19/uluru-resort-deal-sparks-call-for-reforms/6864796">sizeable debt burden</a>, (the ILC recently received a <a href="http://www.abc.net.au/news/2016-05-08/ayers-rock-resort-65m-bailout-nigel-scullion/7393378">A$65 million loan</a> from the federal government). This induces decisions which, while commercially sound, are not always conducive to the sustainability of A<u>n</u>angu-owned enterprises focusing on “culture work”.</p>
<h2>Funding and the Intervention</h2>
<p>There are other complications in the attempt to develop sustainable and culturally appropriate alternatives to climbing Ulu<u>r</u>u. One is the <a href="https://theconversation.com/thinking-corporately-getting-national-parks-on-national-balance-sheets-8152">tight operational budget for Australia’s park agencies</a>.</p>
<p>At Ulu<u>r</u>u, Parks Australia has faced some particularly challenging years, as a decline in tourists – from 349,172 in 2005 to 257,761 in 2012 – caused revenue from the sale of entry tickets to fall. </p>
<p>At the same time, lack of funding has meant that the Ulu<u>r</u>u Cultural Centre, where tourists are encouraged to begin their visit to the Park and learn about A<u>n</u>angu culture, hasn’t been maintained properly. It looks dilapidated, and anything but an alternative to climbing.</p>
<p>The community has also been impacted by the Northern Territory Emergency Response, known locally as the Intervention. In 2006 an administrator was appointed to run the A<u>n</u>angu village of Mu<u>t</u>itjulu, which is adjacent to the Rock.</p>
<p>The Mu<u>t</u>itjulu Community Aboriginal Corporation, responsible for delivering aspects of municipal and community services, had its funding and several of its functions taken away. </p>
<p>Although the corporation regained control of the community in 2007, it has since wrestled with a high turnover of CEOs, disagreements over service provision and accusations of corruption. The corporation oversees several local businesses, one of which – a tourism enterprise – failed during my research.</p>
<p>Let us return to Northern Territory Chief Minister Adam Giles and the subject of climbing Ulu<u>r</u>u. Rather than investing in the climb, in the face of A<u>n</u>angu wishes, Mr Giles should consider resolving the conflicting agendas, governance challenges and funding difficulties that characterise the Ulu<u>r</u>u economy. </p>
<p>Once tourists can enjoy various sustainable products based on A<u>n</u>angu culture, the destination will become truly unforgettable and benefit A<u>n</u>angu economically. Then, the Ulu<u>r</u>u climb can be closed.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/58729/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Marianne Riphagen worked on the research project The value of Aboriginal cultural heritage – cultural production and regional economies in Eastern Arnhem Land and the Western Desert, which was funded by a Discovery Grant from the Australian Research Council.</span></em></p>Uluru’s traditional owners have asked for decades that tourists not climb their sacred site. Parks Australia has committed to closing the climb – but only when some ambitious goals have been met.Marianne Riphagen, Visiting Fellow, Australian National UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.