Being a woman is gloriously complex. Being a woman requires embracing the contradictory. Being a woman can also be dangerous.

Remember the putrid and widely condemned assertion expressed by Sydney’s Sheik Hilali, in the wake of a gang rape trial, that women who do not dress according to conservative Islamic standards are like uncovered meat which invites wild cats to devour it?

Across the Indian Ocean, in South Africa (SA), there are echoes of the Hilali controversy in the aftermath of the rape of a woman at Johannesburg’s central taxi rank by men who purportedly told by-standers they were teaching her a lesson for wearing a mini-skirt.

25 year old Nwabisa Ngcukana was walking with her friends through the Noord St taxi rank when she was set upon by taxi drivers and hawkers. They reportedly tore at her clothes and digitally raped her while bystanders abused her, some dousing her head with alcohol. “As they stripped me they kept shouting that this is what I wanted. Some were sticking their finger in my vagina while others poured alcohol over my head and called me all sorts of names,” she told the Sowetan. "It was terrifying, I was crying while they were swearing at me," she said.

Nwabisa Ngcukana was eventually rescued by security guards whose duty it is to patrol the notorious rank where three other women were similarly assaulted on the same day and a spate of attacks was reported in in 2002. But they were hardly sympathetic to her plight. “Instead they mocked me and asked what was I thinking parading around in a miniskirt at a taxi rank. They further told me that three other women were stripped naked earlier for wearing a short skirt,” she said.

“When my friends came into my defence saying I had a right to wear whatever I liked they just laughed at me and said this is the kind of attitude that makes taxi drivers do these things."

"They even refused to call the police saying that they did it the last time and police did nothing.” Such a lax attitude to rape is probably as much symptomatic as it is causative. SA has the highest rate of rape in the world according to Interpol – along with the highest rate of AIDS infection. According to some reports, one South African is raped every 26 seconds.

But Nwabisa Ngcukana is an extraordinarily brave woman, determined, even in the face of violation, to assert her claim to human rights under the lauded SA constitution. Freedom of choice to wear what she chooses is a symbolic right she was prepared to fight for. Instead of hiding from her pain, three weeks later, she led a march of hundreds of toyi-toying (traditional African protest dance ) women – many wearing mini-skirts - on the Noord St taxi rank. "I am beautiful and I am strong,” she said as she walked back into the lair of her attackers.



The Mail & Guardian (M&G)reported that the women carried placards which read "Humiliating a woman is a sin before God" and "So gcoka izigcebhe masifuna (We will wear miniskirts when we want)"

Earlier that week another group of marchers led by the Remmoho Women's Forum was confronted by recalcitrant men at the taxi rank who were determined to try to disempower them. During that protest, hundreds of taxi drivers and by-standers burst into the anachronistic ANC call to arms song, Umshini Wami (Bring Me my Machine Gun), which has been re-popularised by the polygamist President-in-waiting, Jacob Zuma, who was acquitted of raping a family friend in 2006. One of the arguments put by the defence during the trial was that the alleged victim had provoked the sexual encounter by wearing a kanga (traditional sarong) during a visit to Zuma's house. The men also vowed to continue stripping women wearing miniskirts, claiming a cultural defence, and flashed their genitals at the marchers.

A spokeswoman for the Forum, Nosipho Twala, told the M & G "They were saying, 'Nathi siyakwazi ukukhumula zifebe ndini (We know how to strip like these whores)' … they assured us that no one will enter the rank wearing mini-skirts and they even threatened to shoot us."

Female journalists attempting to cover the story reported being sexually harassed while using public transport on assignment, highlighting the widespread problem of sexual assault in SA. As Twala pointed out, it’s about power, not fashion “…this is not an isolated incident. Thousands of women travel by taxi daily. Many of us are treated badly and in many cases we are sexually harassed, abused and even raped."

Some attempts were made to defend the behaviour of the taxi-rapists on cultural grounds reminiscent of the Hilali controversy. Women should dress in a dignified manner out of respect for themselves, and to avoid provocation to rape, so went the argument. But this argument was never going to wash in a country where African cultural traditions which celebrate and parade female sexuality continue to be practised: some traditional acts require women to wear a form of mini-skirt and dance bare breasted, for example. "The National House of Traditional Leaders strongly condemns those who hide behind culture or exploit it to push their personal agendas," spokesperson Mandlenkosi Amos Linda told the M & G.

"At no point has culture dictated to young lasses to wear dresses that (go) below their knees and neither has it dictated to men to assault young women who choose to wear miniskirts," Linda said. He did, however, go on to say “it is culturally correct for married women to dress properly in respect of their husbands.” This sexist notion is presumably tied up with concepts of a man’s “ownership” of his wife and, of course, his ego. This attitude clearly needs transforming if married SA women are to be beneficiaries of the same legislative protection the Traditional Leaders claimed in defence of younger women’s right to wear a mini-skirt.

And this culturally entrenched sexism is far from exclusively African. Apart from the Hilali episode, the recent up-skirting of Maxine McKew comes to mind in the Australian setting. Apologists for the Canberra Times’ blatantly sexist coverage of McKew’s victory over John Howard were quick to resurrect the “she asked for it" defence. According to this reading, if McKew didn’t want to have a photograph taken from such an invasive angle, she should have worn pants. Such comments, along with incredibly vitriolic personal attacks launched against me by posters on this blog and Crikey!, highlighted just how far gender transformation still has to go to in Australia before equality between the sexes can be celebrated.

An excellent blog post on the South African Thought Leader site written by Mandela Rhodes Scholar, Rumbi Goredema, about the Johannesburg taxi-rank rape elicited some similar responses. This is, in part, what Rumbi wrote:

At the root of the Noord Street march is this simple fact: women are tired of feeling that in order to gain acceptance (or, at the very least, respite from all the sexual innuendo), we have to regulate our bodies. We are afraid that in these bodies, which we want to be able to celebrate, we will never be seen as people…That humanity ought to extend to include our bodies. Our bodies are a part of us, and when you recognise us in your workplace, in your classroom, in your taxi as people, we demand (that’s right, I said it) that you recognise our bodies as part of our status as full human beings, and act accordingly.

Some days, I walk down my street to catch the shuttle to campus, or from the shuttle stop back home. Every time I do so, this seemingly mundane task is one that causes me great anxiety and righteous rage. I cannot walk down my street without some guy saying something. What should be a leisurely 10- to 15-minute walk from A to B has become an obstacle course in which it is my task to dodge solicitations and ignore cat calls and requests (if that, usually it’s demands) for my number from men I don’t even know, men old enough to be my father, men I have grown to hate.

Because I am female, I am, it seems fair game. Anyone who’s anyone can have a go, can yell obscenities at me and can remind me every day that no matter how smart I am, no matter what I achieve, I have breasts, and that makes me a piece of meat.

I wrote in reply:

The subjugation of women and acquisition of our bodies by men is indeed an international problem. I’m sitting at my desk in Australia – where the rape stats are no where near as alarming as those confronting SA – but I am also worried about walking to my car in a distant University car park now that it’s dark. …

(Your story) reminds me of the sexist premise that underpins the demand that women cover up. I was told by a church minister when I was 14 that I should dress more demurely because “men don’t have as much self control as women and women need to protect them from their sinfulness”. What a cop out! I responded: “Well if women are more responsible and powerful why is it that you only allow men to be in charge of congregations?” Suffice it to say he was stumped and I became a journalist.

There were encouraging posts in response to Rumbi's blog from men who reminded me why I continue to find their species attractive, despite the repellent activities of so many of them. Pheko wrote: “Women have a right to wear what they feel like without fear of harassment by men with low egos who feel better only after humiliating some powerless young woman”. And, Brent observed, “In the 50’s thousands of amazing wonderful women marched (unmolested) for the freedom of everyone and now one lady can’t even walk to a taxi rank, please political leaders tell us why not.”

But then came the posts from the ignorant, sexists flying the “she asked for it” flag. Lazola wrote “Wear whatever you like but you must not steal a limelight from the prostitutes because they might be angry at you thinking that you want to close their business down.” Someone calling himself "His Service" (whose service, I wonder? Delusions of Godly representation, perhaps?) “If you don’t want to be perceived as a slut you mustn’t be (sic) dress like one”

Being the baitable woman, I am, I replied:

To both of you: how would you judge someone who stole a tasty treat from the mouth of a child? Would it be the fault of the treat that you were tempted to act unethically and treacherously? Or, would it be a product of your basic indecency that you were unable to suppress desire unmatched by consent or invitation? And, what do you make of people being shot for their mobile phones or designer sneakers? The fault of the tempting accoutrements, perhaps?

“His Service” took issue with my reply and posted this comment addressed to me: “Your fantasy of walking the streets dressed almost with nothing without attention from the opposite sex is greatly unreal. Either you like it or you don’t what (sic) you wear will determine the number of dates you might get.” Ridiculous, illogical, sexist and without foundation – yes. But “His Service” did get me thinking about the perceived dichotomy of female sexual identity, and the apparent confusion still experienced by some men as they attempt to navigate modern male-female interactions.

On the one hand, women demand power over their own bodies – to determine with whom they have sex and on what terms. And bound up in this, is the freedom to choose how to dress – choice which spans the right to cover one's head with a hijab, in the context of secular laws that attempt to dictate women’s clothing, through to the right to wear clothing as scant as public decency laws allow.

But on the other hand, we acknowledge that our physical attractiveness to heterosexual men is also bound up with power. The femme fatale stereotype has its application. Yes, we want to be desired and the way we dress may reflect that yearning. We know a cinched waist, or a hint of cleavage, or the display of well toned legs is becoming…and we know it’s likely to attract the attention of interested men.

But here’s the catch, boys (lest there be any confusion about our intentions): we reserve the right to entertain or reject your advances. It is within our power to do so, and it is within your power to cop rejection without resort to assault and rape.

And, the bottom line is: women are more than meat. We are the sum total of body, soul, mind, heart, wit and many other characteristics that we want valued equally and collectively. We embrace the distinctions between the sexes, but we demand freedom of choice and freedom from fear in our interactions with men.

Cheris Kramerae, author of A Feminist Dictionary (1996), said “Feminism is the radical notion that women are human beings”. And we deserve and demand our human rights – it’s well past time they were recognised…all over the world.

Note: Despite multiple apologies from taxi organisations and promises to hand-deliver the assailants, along with commitments to action from government officials and police, no arrests have been made in connection with the Johannesburg taxi-rank rape.

Aside: Concurrently, as we women try to embrace our sexuality and gender specificity amidst Feminism’s Third Wave, we are accused by some members of the Sisterhood of betrayal. Last week my Facebook status read: “Julie is a feminist and she bakes. She’s also quite comfortable wearing her (ample) cleavage as an accessory: deal with it people!” Some older feminists’ suspicion of displayed female sexuality is, in effect, a form of pandering to chauvinism and it also offends me.    [read more]

Friday was the projected birth date of the baby boy I lost last year. It was a difficult day at the end of a difficult week.

My life’s been characterised by a period of emotional intensity, change and revival since I miscarried my baby last August - it was my third consecutive miscarriage. The love and care of family, friends and virtual strangers helped me survive the aftermath and the callous indifference of others.

I gave my baby a name when I lost him after carrying him in my womb for three months. He was part of me. To me, his mother, he already had an identity and I had ascribed characteristics to him...along with hopes and dreams for his future. Giving him a name has allowed him to live in my memory.

This approach to grieving for a baby lost in-utero is difficult for some to fathom. My own partner wasn’t comfortable with the idea of naming our baby - something I did quietly in my own heart. But for me, naming the pain, the grief, and the baby, aid the healing necessary for recovery from miscarriage - and, in particular, multiple miscarriages - both at a personal level and a societal one. That said, grief – particularly grief expressed for the unborn – is a very personal experience and every person responds differently to it. There’s no manual...no ten-step plan. And, in our culture, not a lot of ritual.

So, how have I coped with the sadness and sense of loss since I last wrote about my miscarriage in October? With a lot of distraction, denial and by focussing on my other identities: friend; sister; lover; partner; scholar; journalist; teacher. I’ve looked to the future; made plans; travelled – physically, mentally and emotionally. But, I haven’t been brave enough to re-visit the miscarriage medically. I underwent a barrage of tests in October and I’ve been referred to a specialist in fertility and recurrent miscarriage with a view to planning another pregnancy. But I haven’t been able to bring myself to make the appointment with her.

Yes, I’ve been busy with work...and busy focussing on me. Not in a selfish way – in a nurturing way. But the real cause of the delay has been fear...and unpreparedness. I think I needed time...for grief and to allow him to live in my memory and heart – at least long enough to have been born.

Now that his ‘birth-day’ has passed, I feel I can move on...maternally speaking. I consciously decided to give myself 12 months to recover from the miscarriage before trying to have another baby. Before the year’s up, I have 120 journalism students to get through the semester, PhD and other research to progress, and a teaching placement in South Africa to look forward to. Life is rich...I’m a multi-dimensional woman and the future is unknown. But, I’m excited by the unknown. Such possibilities; such opportunities; such hope...

Go with the angels, baby boy, and I’ll continue to walk where angels fear to tread.    [read more]

As the US Democratic nomination goes down to the wire, with Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama continuing to fight it out in the primaries, I thought I'd share with you the insights of a young American journalist.

Ryan Mock is a former student of mine - he studied Journalism and Sports Media at the University of Canberra. He now works as a baseball broadcaster in Maryland but he retains a keen interest in politics.

When I asked him for his take on the "first black-man vs. first woman Democratic presidential nomination battle", this is what he wrote in reply:


Straight away, I want to make one thing clear: I'm pro-Obama for Democratic Nominee, if for no other reason than because he is not Hillary Clinton. So, that should help you understand my position from the get-go.

Hillary Clinton is a very political animal. She has in the last 15 years gone from being relatively unknown to being one of the strongest First Ladies the US has ever known to being a Senator for the state of New York all with the intention of becoming the first female US President in 2008. She's known she'd be running for this presidency for years. So did everyone else, and the sense of excitement (amongst some) and entitlement was palpable. The US media has frequently mentioned her as being the inevitable choice for the Democrats, and that the "Clinton Political Machine" basically guarantees her ascendancy to the Oval Office. As late as November/December it was never a question, the only discussion was regarding second place. And Edwards was the logical choice for second place and a vice presidency.

Obviously, things have not quite gone according to script, and Hillary has from time to time panicked, and shown what I believe to be her true colors. The vaunted Clinton Political Machine has backfired against a candidate that seems to be more-or-less taking the high road, and she doesn't really know how to deal with it. She can take on Republicans because she can sling mud at them without fear of revolt amongst her party. She could take on other Democrats by being better prepared, smarter (which she almost certainly is), and more convincing as a leader. This has not worked against the smoother talking, more charismatic and less partisan Obama. But we'll get to that in a moment.

Clinton's biggest draw is now the fact that she is, indeed, a woman. There are many, many women out there who are lining up to vote for her entirely because she's female. They may not 100% agree with her politics, in fact they may completely disagree with her politics, but they are willing to vote for one of their own than for what they believe is actually best for them. Even Oprah's alliance with Obama has not been completely effective at swaying the general female population, and Oprah is probably the most influential female in the last 50 years in the US (yeah, I know it sounds like over-the-top hyperbole, but it's true. It's ridiculous, but it's true). Women in America are sick of seeing so many countries in the "West" (and some not necessarily in the "West": Benazir Butto comes to mind) with female leaders, strong, well respected female leaders, while America can't even get a female on the ballot. It's true, the US is long overdue on a female president. I would love to see a female president. Just not Hillary Clinton.

And here is basically why: if Hillary Clinton comes into office at the start of 2009, in 2013 the United States will still be in trouble in the Middle East, we might be in a conflict elsewhere (Venezuela? Korea? Iran? Who knows?) and the American political process will have been terribly bogged down due to Clinton's inability to play nice with others. She is the most partisan of the major candidates in either party outside of Rudy Giuliani (who thankfully bowed out. I was terrified by the idea of Rudy in office. I would have immediately moved out of the county). And partisanship at this point in American history will basically kill us. We are not liked overseas, our only two parties of note are at loggerheads over most every topic and are completely unwilling to make any concessions. Clinton will only exacerbate each of those problems. She is just too political and seems unwilling, or unable, to work with others in an actual effort to improve our nation's standing in the world. If Clinton comes into office it will indeed be politics as usual. She might be a better speaker than W., but she won't be much better as a president. And this is ignoring another salient point about political dynasties in the US. If we go Bush-Clinton-Bush-Clinton, we are in a real danger of becoming not just a two party system but a two family system. There are plenty of Bush family members already looking to run in 2012 or 2016, which is a scary thought!

That brings us to Obama, and I hope to make this section slightly shorter, which makes sense as no one knows as much about Obama as Clinton. He is somewhat unknown... even still. Now, that's not necessarily a ringing endorsement, but the unknown is still always preferable to the unwanted. He is charismatic. He is a wonderful speaker. He genuinely seems to be able to get along with members of both parties (which is odd considering he is actually the more left-wing of the two Democratic nominees...or so we believe). He is black. He is also completely unwilling to say much about his politics. So, what to make of Barack Obama?

What is his stand on the war in Iraq and war in general? Against it, but how much so is debatable. How about health care? Would like to see everyone covered but doesn't want to impose a state-sponsored health care system. How about taxes? Abortion? Immigration? In each his policy seems to be "talk about it and hope to work with everyone to find a solution." Which might just be politicalese for "I don't have any idea" or "you won't like my plan so I'm not telling you" but it also might mean he genuinely wants to work with both sides of government to get things done.

He has the opportunity to become another JFK. And in America that is high, high praise. JFK is the one president that people from both sides of the aisle truly believe could have changed things. My uber-conservative Uncle in rural Washington State still gets misty eyed about how Kennedy was different, Kennedy was ready to make some big changes in America, and the US was a much, much lesser place after Kennedy was shot. My uncle probably would have voted for Giuliani if he had a choice, now he'll probably vote for Ron Paul. Obama's "upside", to use a popular sporting term, is to become another such figure in American politics. If he is elected, it could be that everyone under the age of 30 will look back on his time in office as a golden era in American history. He also seems the most likely to be assassinated. There is still a whole lotta racism in the south, and plenty of white guys with guns who'd be willing to take a shot.

The downside of Obama is that he has no clear idea on anything. He could be just a good speaker and have nothing to back it up. It's quite possible. Some might even say probable.

But one thing is clear to me. If Obama is elected as the next president of the United States, our standing in the international community will be improved. He's an excellent speaker, people are genuinely drawn to him and I believe he will try hard not to make enemies. If Clinton is elected president, I believe the opposite is inevitable.

For my comments on the media's portrayal of Hillary Clinton see this post.

For a similar perspective, read Jane Caro's New Matilda piece on the theme here
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I recently flew to Paris for a wedding. Envious? So you should be! It was a grand and moving affair.

The couple in question, my friend Micaela and her Flavio (yes, that is his real name!), are very much in love and clearly “meant to be”, so a wedding in the City of Love seemed apt.

He’s a former Swiss diplomat turned politician and cultural advisor to UNESCO and she’s an Italian academic,writer and radio documentarian with a PhD in German literature.

Their work brought them together in Flavio’s home town, Lugano. The catalyst for their meeting was the Swiss-German author, Hermann Hesse, about whom Micaela was making a program in which Flavio had invested. According to witnesses they were instantly besotted with one another and the passion hasn’t faded. They now share their time between Lugano, Rome and Paris. Their’s is a beautiful life.

And their wedding was as entertaining as it was beautiful, so I thought I’d share the experience with you.

The ceremony was held in the Latin Quarter’s 18th century Town Hall. Not your Oz style Town Hall – characterised by the sale of crocheted doilies, the smell of moth balls and bake-offs. Oh, no, this was an opulent building opposite the Pantheon. There was a giant marble statue of naked, entwined lovers (reminiscent of Rodin whose sculpture garden I wandered through the previous day) in the foyer, a winding staircase to climb and valuable tapestries and murals adorning the walls.

The civil nuptials lacked the familiar spiritual element but they seemed meaningful and romantic – thanks largely to my poor grasp of French and Italian which meant I had to rely on body language for interpretation. The city official conducting the ceremony described it as an EU marriage – a union of Switzerland, Italy and France with a guest list that added more nations to the mix. The Roman a capella choir Micaela sings with concluded the ceremony beautifully.

Flavio was beaming and looking fabulous in a bespoke suit and Micaela...well she’s so beautiful she defies description at any rate, but she took my breath away in a tres elegant cream silk and lace suit with ribbons in her hair.

The wedding guests included stylish European literati, academics, journalists, diplomats, UNESCO types and bankers. And there was I – trying to look like I belonged, but just glad my dress zipped up in the aftermath of 10 days of indulgence in the boulangeries, patisseries and fromageries of France. Those long walks along the Seine obviously did the trick!

The reception was held on a floating restaurant/jazz club which cruised the Seine (Ooh, look! Notre Dame; the Eiffel Tower; the Musee D’Orsay…sigh) at a languid pace on a sunny afternoon. The food was outstanding – a hybrid of Italian and French influences…citrus crusted lamb and salmon with green olive tapenade starred…alongside caviar, fine champagne and other notable drops from the elevated appellations. Micaela joined her choir for a performance in between courses and then, a noted (and rather swoon-worthy) Italian guitarist floored the crowd with an extraordinary set which concluded with a Marvin Gaye tribute. As he played “I Heard It On the Grapevine” a “very famous” elder statesman of Italian Left politics and journalism (the former editor of Il Manifesto) sat at the bar as other journos rushed to snap the shot.

Then the disc jockey commenced his duties and it went the way of so many parties in Europe I’ve been to…into a pop-culture void! It was like being in the Eurovision audience. The play-list started with The Village People (yup…with 50 Italian accents yelling “Y-uh, M-uh, C, A-uh”) moved through “Ti Amo” and Kenny Rogers’ “Lady” before reverting to what sounded like the entire "Priscilla, Queen of the Desert" soundtrack (why is it that when Europeans add popular music to an event it sounds like a gay nightclub?) On the dance floor, Flavio’s contemporaries were working their 70’s disco stuff – all gyrating hips and clicking fingers (I failed to muffle laughter). But I wouldn’t have had it any other way.

The Mother of the Bride, who was concerned about Micaela and Flavio’s resistance to tradition and disappointed the wedding wasn’t being held in Rome, was clearly anxious at the outset. But she was twisting (i.e. Chuck Berry-style) by the end of the soiree and pronounced everything: the ceremony; the union; the wedding dress; even the gateau (should have been an Italian fruit cake, apparently) “tuti bellisima!”

I sat next to some friends of Flavio who revealed, under the influence of a fine Bordeaux, that until he met Micaela, his personal life resembled that of fiction’s crime-fighting Lothario, Inspector Moltalbano. But Flavio’s friends described how Micaela “conquered" the “Montalbano of Lugano” and expressed amazement at his devotion to her. I’m not surprised she succeeded where other women failed – arrestingly beautiful; talented; witty; a generous heart; highly intelligent (she speaks three languages, is learning a fourth)…I feel very inadequate listing all her assets! And, just between you and I, Flavio’s quite the catch too! Charming, intelligent, cultured, witty and affectionate - no wonder Micaela fell for him.

And the wedding was more than a celebration of Flavio and Micaela’s love. It also represented their triumph over Italian bureaucracy and strict Swiss marriage laws. Micaela kept her friends informed about her near daily struggles with the Italian bureaucrats who, through some pit-sized gap in the system, ultimately rendered her stateless and removed her access to public health cover in response to her decision to take up Parisian residency. Meanwhile, Flavio had to convince the Swiss authorities Micaela was worthy of marrying into the 'pre-eminent European culture'. A marriage license for a union with an ‘outsider’ is no mean feat in the land of neutrality!

Micaela and Flavio are now honeymooning in China before returning to their rooftop Latin Quarter nest which overlooks St Severin (the Church of the Traveller)…one of the oldest churches in Paris.

I know the grass isn’t always greener but my, oh my, their grass is lush! OK, I’m going to start chanting now: “There’s no place like home…there’s no place like home”…



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Paris is good for the soul…and for a gal’s confidence.

I’m flying home to Oz after attending a friend’s wedding soiree in Paris. More on the entertaining nuptials in a later post, but top billing goes to the City of Love itself.

Coincidentally, I arrived in ‘Gay Paree’ on Valentine’s Day. The symbolism of the timing wasn’t lost on this hopeless romantic, but I was a little concerned the greeting card schlock that infects February 14th would be tackily overwhelming in such a setting. And, while a moody early morning walk along the misty Seine was evocative and inspiring, there was plenty of kitsch on offer. I began the day, culinarily speaking, with a heart-shaped baguette and then downed a sin-sationalheart-shaped tarte au chocolat for lunch which was topped with rose petals and just melted on my tongue. Meanwhile, the streets around the Eiffel tower were teaming with florists doing a booming trade in sweet smelling blooms of all varieties and lovers canoodled and giggled as they walked along the river bank.

Strangely, none of this seemed contrived. The inherent romance of this city is actually enhanced by a near spiritual celebration of passion. If you allow yourself to soak up its beauty with your eyes and ears; walk its monument-laden boulevards, cobble-stoned rues and riverside quais; and linger in Museums and galleries displaying extraordinary talent and genius, you can’t help but fall in love…

Later that afternoon I visited the famous old bookshop, Shakespeare and Co. which sits alongside the Seine opposite Notre Dame. It was a memorable haunt of Anais Nin, Alan Ginsburg and other lauded authors who wrote in its rooms and at nearby bistros. A quote from Nin now hangs above one of the overstuffed bookshelves: "And there by the Seine was a bookshop...An utrillo house, not too steady on its foundations, small windows wrinkled shutters. And there was George Whitman, undernourished, bearded, a saint amongst his books, lending them, housing penniless friends upstairs, not eager to sell in the back of the store, in a small overcrowded room, with a desk, a small stove" (Anais Nin, Diary, Vol 5) I poked and prodded the eclectic collection - which includes some Nin-vintage volumes - until I found something that satisfied: a book of love letters from contemporary authors including Margaret Atwood. What a fabulous Valentine's Day find!

Paris has it all: the language; the salons, bistros and brasseries; high culture; lunchtime discussions about politics and philosophy as heated as a ménage a trois; and then there’s French men… . Notoriously chauvinistic, they also have a seductive way with flattery…and that accent! I speak from (very limited) experience here. My confidence received a welcome boost during my walks between the Latin Quarter and the Right Bank. On one evening saunter along the Seine I actually lost count of the number of men who made passes at me.

I laughed at the first one…he leapt across my path and his hand swooped to the ground to collect a gold ring which lay at my feet. Locking his eyes on mine, he smiled and said “Bon chance, madame” (we’ll ignore the fact I’m apparently no longer mistaken for a mademoiselle!) and winked before watching me walk away. A total cliché, and I’m pretty sure sleight of hand was involved. But my new green hat (“Ooh it matches your eyes and sets off your red ‘air booty-fully”, cooed the very attentive gay designer…I bought three of his ‘ats!) may have had something to do with the performance.

On the next block a stylishly-clad and stubbled motorcyclist drove up onto the pavement in front of me, stopped, got off his bike, turned to me, made penetrative eye contact and said “Ooh, la, la!” No, I hadn’t been drinking on the evening in question – but I obviously had something going on! If it wasn’t the hat, maybe it was the super-stylish vintage coat I was wrapped in (newly purchased from the Montmartre flea markets, it was certainly irresistibly alluring to my wallet!)? Or perhaps I’d managed, after careful study, to cultivate that disdainful, haughty, sexy expression Parisian women seem to wear so effortlessly?

The compliments and bad French pick-up lines continued: one guy, who spun on the spot after walking past me, said something that sounded like “Phwaah, la, la”. Then there was the group of school boys led by a cocky blonde-haired wannabe-seducer who made his friends look at “la belle madame”. Mrs Robinson, look out! ;) At that point, I developed a theory about my strange appeal on the streets of Paris that evening – I’m a lass who’s fond of colour and whose red locks and ample curves make her stand out from the parade of monochromatically stylish, classically beautiful and uber thin Parisian women. (Where do they store all that cheese, bread and wine?) Perhaps, for once, the features I tend to complain about became assets? Either that or the men of Paris had been bewitched that evening…could have been the full moon.

Whatever the reason, I have to admit I enjoyed the attention. (I promise I’m not normally this gullible or narcissistic – it usually takes a lot more than flattery to make me swoon!). I blame it on Paris – seductive; moody; strikingly beautiful… it messes with your receptors.

Quick, pass me those hand-made chocolates! I have 8 hours of flight time left before I can find a cold shower and land back in reality. Forgive me if I’d rather stay airborne with my head in the clouds.

This is moi in that green hat!    [read more]

"For the pain, suffering and hurt of these stolen generations, their descendants and for their families left behind, we say sorry.

To the mothers and the fathers, the brothers and the sisters, for the breaking up of families and communities, we say sorry.

And for the indignity and degradation thus inflicted on a proud people and a proud culture, we say sorry."

This is the heart of the Stolen Generations apology Prime Minister, Kevin Rudd, will deliver to Indigenous Australians during his historic ‘Sorry Day’ address to the Parliament today. Three times sorry…it apparently isn’t the hardest word to say after all. But it’s been a very long time coming.

An official national apology was one of the key recommendations of the ‘Bringing Them Home’ report handed down by the late High Court Judge, Sir Ronald Wilson, in 1997 following exhaustive national hearings in the Stolen Generations Inquiry. The inquiry, established by the Keating Government, investigated the forcible removal of Aboriginal children from their families between 1910-1970 under various assimilationist policies literally designed to ‘whiten’ the population. Under these policies ‘half-caste’ children deemed whiter than black were essentially kidnapped by government officials, moved to institutions and white homes far removed from their families and lied to about their heritage.

As the inquiry traversed the country, thousands of Aborigines and Torres Strait Islanders gave evidence about the hardship they endured as members of the Stolen Generations. The stories they told were heartbreaking and shame-inducing, prompting a national outpouring of grief amidst public soul-searching.

The inquiry found that between 1-10 and 1-3 Indigenous children were forcibly removed from their communities during the six decades in which these racist policies were in operation. It also established that 1-10 of those institutionalised and 1-5 placed in the care of white families reported being sexually abused. It was also revealed that many of these children were later sent to work for low or no wages – in effect they were used as slave labour. The policies that enabled this travesty continued to operate until 1970 but they were considered genocidal under international law from 1947 and racially discriminatory after 1950.

Governments of the day justified these policies on familiar grounds – it was in the children’s best interests…they were victims of abuse…they needed better educational opportunities. These excuses were being retreaded up until just last week by Howard’s lingering henchmen to justify continuing opposition to a national apology and the controversial Northern Territory ‘Intervention’ which essentially revives the policies being apologised for today.

Shadow Indigenous Affairs Minister Tony Abbott finally fell in line with the change of heart expressed by Opposition leader Brendan Nelson and agreed to endorse the wording of the apology last night. But the agreement still stuck in his throat and his stony expression looked likely to crack when Tony Jones probed for details of his personal journey towards accepting the apology on Lateline . He continued to suggest the wording was inappropriate (the Opposition wanted the word ‘stolen’ changed to the euphemistic ‘separated’) but begrudgingly promised the Coalition would not oppose the apology.

And notably absent from today’s historic parliamentary occasion will be the former Prime Minister, John Howard, who fought tooth and nail against issuing a national apology and infamously thumped the lectern angrily during a Reconciliation address in 1997 when Indigenous members of the audience stood and turned their backs on him as he attempted to justify his opposition to an apology.

Fast forward 11 years to yesterday’s opening ceremony of the first parliament of the Rudd Government and the scene couldn’t have been bigger contrast to the division and anger that characterised Howard’s handling of Indigenous affairs. For the first time, Aboriginal and Torres Islander Australians were invited to participate in the proceedings. Ngannawal elder, Matilda House, led the ‘Welcome to Country’ ceremony which acknowledged the Aborginal history of the land on which the parliament sits and celebrated Kevin Rudd’s election.

Amidst lively traditional dance and music featuring didgeridoos and clapsticks, Ms House’s grandchildren presented the PM with a message stick which she explained was a means of communication “used by our peoples for thousands of years to tell the stories of coming together”. Dressed in a possum fur cloak, she praised the new government for the planned apology and for involving Indigenous people in the opening of the historic session of parliament. “It’s a good, honest, decent, human act…to reach out…to make sure everyone has a place and is welcome”, she told the packed Members Hall.

In response, Kevin Rudd said a ‘Welcome to Country’ ceremony would mark the opening of every parliament in future.

When Old Parliament House was officially opened in 1927, the only Aborigine reported present was asked to move on by the police. ‘King Billy’ Jimmy Clements was barefoot and in the company of dogs. But as, Tony Wright points out in The Age, in a show of public unity that reflected a more tolerant spirit, the gathered white crowd insisted he stand his ground and showered him with coins. The next day he featured in the official ceremony and was greeted by royalty. The court of public opinion triumphed on that day as it did on November 24th last year with the election of the Rudd government which campaigned for a national apology to the Stolen Generations.

Clearly the apology will carry very powerful symbolism and renew the spirit of reconciliation but the government must now tackle, with tangible, practical gestures of reconciliation, the 20 year gap in black-white mortality, endemic disease, homelessness, alcoholism, violence and myriad other complex problems that plague Indigenous communities. And, despite publicly rejecting the Stolen Generations report's recommendations for reparations, the Government must know it has to consider compensating the victims if the apology is to carry weight.

Kevin Rudd acknowledged the apology is just the beginning. As he will say later this morning “We today take this first step by acknowledging the past and laying claim to a future that embraces all Australians. A future where this Parliament resolves that the injustices of the past must never, never happen again.”

Matilda House is optimistic about the future: “With this comes renewed hope…our pride and strength are refreshed…like our ancestors we can reach new heights soaring on the wings of the eagles.” I, too, have hope and I'm praying sorry is the magic word.



Anticipation: Indigenous and non-Indigenous Australians have converged on Canberra for the formal apology. (AAP: Alan Porritt)


Update: view Kevin Rudd's "Sorry" speech here.    [read more]

The ABC’s documentary on Australian-born Muslim converts this week was a perfect case study for everything that’s wrong with the media’s portrayal of Muslim women.

Muslim women are both highly visible members of one of the most marginalised groups in Western society and the most vulnerable to vilification and media stereotyping. Ubiquitously portrayed as veiled, they are concurrently represented as oppressed and radical non-conformists; as threatened and threatening; as passive sex-slaves and exotic, erotic beings.

The problems associated with media coverage of Muslim women were on stark display on the ABC on Tuesday night during screening of the much-hyped and highly controversial documentary, “Jihad Sheilas”. If the title alone didn’t suggest sensationalist coverage of Muslim women, the inflammatory promo the ABC ran to attract an audience to the documentary certainly did.

Billed as ‘unmissable’, the advertisement implied the two women featured, Raisah bint Alan Douglas and Rabiah Hutchinson, were directly involved in terrorism. But while they were clearly adherents to a fundamentalist brand of Islam and have been closely associated with terror suspects, the inference that they were themselves terrorists failed to stack up against the evidence presented. On high rotation, the promo evoked reactions of fear and loathing through careful editing and use of a dramatic sound-track and voice-over which made the women appear both threatening and alien. It also employed patriotic discourses as a tool for reinforcing the theme that these ‘Aussie Sheilas’ had rejected Australian culture and values in favour of extremism.

The documentary itself provides perfect case study material for analysis of the media’s coverage of Muslim women – a culturally and linguistically diverse group united by a rich faith but symbolised generically by the distinctive religious clothing some choose to wear. And while this clothing makes them a clearly identifiable group, they are almost invisible and voiceless in news coverage. When they do appear, they’re almost exclusively cast as the outsider – alien to Australian culture and social experience. As the Islamic Women’s Welfare Council of Victoria argues:

… the absence of Muslim women in the coverage of Islam and Muslims is as striking as it is unjust. The capacity and role of Muslim women exceeds comments on the hijab or issues of gender oppression. It is crucial that women’s expertise be recognised in all matters relating to Islam and their contribution should be sought beyond the “women’s perspective” approach. Until the role of women is acknowledged, it will not be possible to understand Muslims or Islam.

“Jihad Sheilas” displayed evidence of high quality production values employed for dramatic effect to reinforce the themes of danger and difference. It also raised serious ethical questions about the way in which the women’s participation was negotiated by the program makers. They claim they were tricked into appearing in the documentary, insisting they were told by the ABC producers that they would feature on the highly regarded “Australian Story” (claims the ABC denies) which is renowned for empathetic, narrator-less coverage of sensitive issues.

But while the women’s behaviour on camera indicated considerable time had been invested in establishing rapport between the interviewers and the subjects – consistent with an offer of sympathetic portrayal - “Jihad Sheilas” was as far removed from an “Australian Story” as documentary making gets.

The opener set the scene for a set-up. With narration delivered in dramatic tones, the documentary’s subjects were introduced as “two Australian converts to Islam” and we heard one of the women say “we’re Aussies at the end of the day…she’s from Wagga and I’m from Mudgee”. This introduction was intercut with images of the September 11 attacks, vision of Osama Bin Laden and George Bush’s divisive call to arms - “you’re either with us or you’re against us”.

A selection of heavily-edited, de-contextualised quotes from the women was then presented against threatening music intended to induce fear: “I would defend Islam with my life…so that makes me a filthy dirty terrorist”; “It’s not a bad thing for Islam what Osama Bin Laden has said”; “You have just asked me a question that could very well have me put away for a long time” they’re heard saying before the narrator opines: “They believe they are innocent victims of the War on Terror”. The sequence concluded with a staged image of a beautiful, pale skinned woman with enormous blue eyes – peering out from a full hijab. The words “Jihad Sheilas” were stamped over her face.

Importantly, when the truncated quotes from the women featuring in the opener were shown in context much later in the program, it was clear they’d been manipulated for dramatic effect. When the interviewer asked Rabiah Hutchinson “Would you die for your faith?” this is what she said: “Of course. The same as if you ask me would I die to defend my children. Does that mean I’m going to go and lob grenades out of a bus in Lakemba, no it doesn’t. But you have just asked me a question that could have me put away for a long time.” Her point was clearly intended to illustrate the way in which her words could be taken out of context and that’s precisely what the program did by the focusing on last part of this quote in the opener, implying that she may be guilty of criminal activity.

Again in the opener, Hutchinson was heard saying “I would defend Islam with my life so that makes me a filthy, dirty, subhuman terrorist.” But in context she said “I would defend Islam with my life so that makes me a filthy, dirty, subhuman terrorist that deserves anything and everything that anybody and everybody wants to do to them…but at the end of the day it doesn’t deter me from my faith and it only makes me stronger”. Her point was that society was judging her unfairly because of her adherence to a hardline version of Islam and that treatment was further encouraged by the ABC’s mis-representation of her comments at the beginning of the program.

The script also repeatedly highlighted the women’s multiple marriages and many children. They were portrayed as promiscuous and rampantly fertile, feeding time-worn stereotypes surrounding the reportage of Muslim women. But these women suffered a double whammy effect – they were also portrayed as traitors to their culture, the religion they were born into and their country of birth.

While exaggeration and the application of melodrama to TV current affairs are not exclusive to the coverage of Muslim women, the ABC’s uncharacteristic resort to tabloid story-telling techniques in this program highlights their particular vulnerability to negative, stereotypical representation.

This is a theme familiar to international researchers considering the portrayal of Muslims in the post-September 11 environment. European and North American researchers have noted the same trend identified in Australia, pointing to ideological roots in ‘Orientalism’ – Edward Said’s theory that the Muslim world and its inhabitants are considered backward, barbaric and outsiders, or ‘others’ to Western society.

In 2005, the journal Anthropology Today commented that ‘…images of Islamic dress are increasingly used in the media as visual shorthand for dangerous extremism, and … Muslims all over Europe are suffering from the consequences of such associations’. And Canadian academics Bullock and Jafri have observed that “Muslim women are often presented in mainstream Canadian media as outsiders and members of a religion that does not promote Canadian values… such as indiscriminate violence and gender oppression.”

Reactionary and disempowering media representations of Muslim women have significant implications for both the women themselves and the sustainability of Multiculturalism. They also imply a need for a re-examination of journalistic practices, standards and ethics surrounding the coverage (or lack thereof) of Muslim women.

A version of this article originally appeared on New Matilda    [read more]

The problem with the Wayne Carey story is twofold: 1) The media, framing his violence-related arrests in two countries as a sad tale of an Oz sporting hero fallen from grace, buried the lead: the burly ex-football star is allegedly a woman-basher and 2) Australian culture with its religious celebration of sporting achievement, anti-intellectual interpretation of success and the succour it offers misogynists allows violent serial offenders to hide and thrive within their codes.

When the AFL player was arrested at his Port Melbourne home on Sunday night it wasn’t his first brush with the law…neither was it the first time police had been called to a ‘domestic incident’ involving Carey.

In Port Melbourne, police had to subdue the former Kangaroos captain with capsicum spray after he allegedly forcefully resisted arrest. It was also sensationally revealed today that Carey is facing charges of assaulting two Miami police officers after they were called to his Florida apartment in October last year.

Investigations are continuing into the Port Melbourne 'incident' but the media appeared to do little to establish the reasons for the police call out. While there may be legal reasons for caution in the coverage of this story - I note that no charges have been laid to date against Carey by Victoria police - the reporting seemed skewed. One of the ABC’s flagship radio current affairs programs, The World Today, didn’t event allude to the ‘domestic incident’ that was also largely relegated to the tail end of print media stories. Instead, the stories focused on Carey’s dramatic fall from grace with news he would be sacked from his Channel 9 AFL commentary position after earlier losing his job at Melbourne radio station 3AW because of his off-field behaviour.

News of the Miami incident also focused on the dramatic nature of Carey’s arrest - which resulted in assault, resisting arrest and aggravated battery charges being laid against him. Again, reason for the police intervention was downplayed and reported in much of the media as a ‘domestic dispute’ between Carey and his girlfriend, Kate Nielsen. But Miami Police Lieutenant, Bill Schwartz was more direct on ABC News Radio today: “…he assaulted a woman, smashed a wine glass against her face...Then when the officers intervened he kicked one of them in the mouth and elbowed another one in the side of the head. And then once he was placed into a police car he used his head as a battering ram and tried to break the partition in between the police officers and the prisoner compartment.” Tellingly, reporters also mentioned the fact that the arresting officers in the US had no idea about Carey’s huge media profile and sporting legend status back home.

While he was indeed a successful footballer, Carey’s real claim to fame is infamy. The Australian has helpfully listed his misdemeanours for us – under the galling headline ‘Fallen Hero’. His sins include conviction for indecently assaulting a woman in 1996 after grabbing her breast outside a Melbourne nightclub and ‘asking’ her: “Why don't you get a bigger pair of tits?" (Yep, this guy is a prize dickhead).

One of my problems with the coverage of violence against women is the media’s insistence on referring to assaults committed against women in their own homes as ‘domestic incidents' or 'domestic disputes'. These terms are so passive and forgiving they border on being culpable. There were many ‘domestic incidents' in my home today – cups of tea were brewed; washing done; pets fed; bills paid. The implication is that these 'incidents' are incidental. Journalists need to start calling(alleged) assaults and bashings by their real names. And while some journalists will argue that they are merely sticking to the police script, there’s no justification for blindly appropriating police jargon. In fact, the Victoria Police no longer officially use the word 'domestic' in conjunction with violence, they refer instead to 'family violence' to describe assault in the home.

Sexism and apologetics are in play in this story. If Wayne Carey had been bashed in his Miami home by someone known to him would it have been reported as a ‘domestic dispute’? No. It would have been branded, accurately, as an assault. As a reporter, you own the language and you have a responsibility to use it powerfully and meaningfully.

The central character in this story is a man with a history of abusing women. But his tough-man image was reinforced through the focus on his physical strength in clashes with the police.

Insipid media representation of violence against women is one factor that perpetuates the problem. The other major sustaining force for men who abuse their partners is Australian culture itself. This nation worships its male sports stars like gods. It defines itself according to tough, masculine characteristics and imagery: subduing the environment; mateship; ability to down copious quantities of beer; heat; dust; rugged landscape; military encounter. Add to that testosterone overload the relatively low status of artistic and academic achievement and you have a recipe for a volatile, potentially violent interpretation of what it means to be Australian…and, in particular, what it means to be an Australian man.

As a nation we are far too forgiving of our ‘heroes’’ bad behaviour…all too willing to turn a blind eye to sexual harassment (oh, look, another text message from that sleaze who spun fast balls for the Australian cricket team) and violence against women. I find the attempt by commentators and others to segregate the public sins of a man (and it’s invariably men we’re talking about here) from his sporting prowess, in an effort to sustain his reputation as a great sportsman, disingenuous and indefensible intellectually. Would we attempt the same act of justification for a politician or a judge charged or convicted in connection with acts of violence or sexual harassment like this: "Oh but he's such a good legislator" or "but he's so deft with a gavel"? Nope, this is a special ‘get out of gaol free’ card we reserve for our sports stars. Why? Because we’re addicted to winning and we define our national success and our standing in the world in accordance with our achievements on the sports-fields where men play with their balls.

It’s time the news media started taking sports journalism seriously and evening up the 'coverage playing field' to expose the characters behind the victories as required. The media is partly responsible for creating and feeding the Carey myth and it now has a responsibility to more closely examine the problem of violence against women associated with the blokey, alcohol fuelled culture connected to professional football of all codes.

The Age today at least took a stab at broadening the coverage – they reported the views of the ‘No to Violence’ CEO, Danny Blay, who argues that sacking Carey from his high profile media jobs isn’t going far enough. Blay suggests Carey consider a path to redemption which includes campaigning against ‘domestic violence’. Now there’s a play-book move I’d like to see!

Carey, who may face gaol time in connection with the charges laid by police in Miami is due to appear in court in the US on February 15th. Victoria police are continuing their investigations.    [read more]

Why is sorry still the hardest word to say for the Federal Opposition?

In response to expectations Kevin Rudd will make a formal Australian Government apology to the Stolen Generations a key order of business during the first sitting week of the new parliament, Brendan Nelson is blowing the dog whistle he inherited from John Howard.

The Opposition leader has condemned the Prime Minister’s plans to prioritise a national apology, saying the issues of petrol prices and interest rates should take precedence over finally implementing the key recommendation of the ten-year-old Bringing Them Home report on the Stolen Generations. But the election of the Rudd Government signalled a shift in the priorities of Australians – they voted not only for change but for more heart in government. And try as Brendan Nelson might to subdue the national conscience by dragging the focus back to a narrow, soulless fixation on hip-pocket economics, the country has moved on.

The Opposition leader is also arguing that white Australians should be formally consulted prior to an apology being issued. Newsflash Dr Nelson: Australians voted for a Rudd Government knowing Labor had promised to prioritise an apology to the generations of Indigenous Australians forcibly removed from their families in an act the Stolen Generations Inquiry found was genocidal.

While John Howard swore blind he’d never utter a personal or collective apology to the Stolen Generations, Brendan Nelson has a chance to avoid Howard’s legacy of poisoning black-white relations. In the 12 years of the Howard Government, so many bridges to Aboriginal Australia were burned and so many long-suffering people further alienated, that history will inevitably record those years as divisive and counter-productive to the essential task of reconciliation. But instead of being bold and injecting some social values into Australian Conservative politics, the good doctor is determined to follow in the destructive footsteps of yesterday’s man.

He’s towing Howard’s line – that the current generation of Australians has no responsibility for the “largely well intentioned” policies of past governments. But he claims he’s shed tears about the violent history of white-black relations in Australia and has spoken of his deep respect for and empathy with Aboriginal Australians. Incongruous.

In an attempt to justify his stance, Nelson argues that the Rudd government should focus on the very high mortality and sexual abuse rates among Aboriginal Australians – those he calls the "real issues" - rather than an apology to the Indigenous community. But he fails to acknowledge that these problems are the product of the generational effects of the racist policies of past governments and they can’t ever be adequately addressed without healing the deeper wounds that sustain them. An apology to the Stolen Generations is both a moral necessity and a fundamental stepping stone to reconciliation which is, in turn, essential to the transformation of the lives of Indigenous Australians.

The reconciliation process - which looked so inspired and promising under Paul Keating’s leadership in the early 90’s - stagnated so badly in the Howard Years that Howard’s own hand-picked National Indigenous Council considered resigning in the lead up to the Federal Election in protest at the hopelessness of the situation. Therefore it is imperative Kevin Rudd act decisively and forcefully to salvage the process and an official apology to Indigenous Australians is the place he knows he must start.

In any relationship breakdown there is one word that’s crucial to mending wounds and rebuilding bridges – the very essence of reconciliation. That word is sorry and as the song says it is often the hardest word to say, but it is also the straightest path to genuine forgiveness - the healing power of relationship reconstruction. It's a word Aboriginal Australians and supporters of the reconciliation movement want to hear - in recognition of over two centuries of massacre, abuse, disenfranchisement, discrimination and ongoing disadvantage. It's a word that's already been uttered by many in public life and it is one which will soon finally be cemented by the Australian Parliament.

Despite the claims of Howardesque conservatives and revisionist historians, an official apology to the Stolen generations is not about misplaced guilt. Aboriginal Australia doesn’t want white guilt (although as a friend suggested to me recently, guilt may be the basis of social caring). But Indigenous Australians do want the past acknowledged and they need the healing that could flow from the utterance of that small word we all insist our children learn in their first grasp of language.

Let’s hope Brendan Nelson finds it in his heart to resist the cheap political points that may flow from moving against an apology in the parliament. Having the courage to do what’s right instead of just what is easy or popular is a true measure of leadership. And in Nelson's case there's an Opposition leader-in-waiting (Malcom Turnbull) who has endorsed an official apology to the Stolen Generations.

Let’s hope Kevin Rudd is prepared to drive the reconciliation process forward, beyond the powerful symbolism of an apology.

Update: Kevin Rudd has confirmed the Australian Government will apologise to the Stolen Generations on February 13th. The Ngunnawal people of Canberra will hold a special ceremony marking the opening of the first parliament of the Rudd Government the previous day.

Indigenous Affairs Minister Jenny Macklin is pleading for bi-partisan backing of the apology but the Federal Opposition leadership is digging in its divisive heels, resisting calls for a conscience vote on the apology and opposing the Government's strategy at every turn. Shadow Indigenous Affairs spokesman Tony Abbott claims an apology is unnecessary because some things were 'done right'. I presume he also thinks Priests who sexually abuse their young parishioners shouldn't have to apologise either because they still presided over Holy Communion with dilligence.

Opposition leader-in-waiting, Malcolm Turnbull is the lone voice of reason among senior Liberals, calling for the Coalition to back the apology or risk being relegated to irrelevancy. Turnbull's stance has the strong backing of former Prime Minister, Malcolm Fraser who campaigned strongly against Howard government racism.

On a more uplifting note, members of the Stolen Generations around the country have poured out their hearts in response to news of the apology many thought they'd never live to hear. The moving stories have made tears of grief and relief well up in my eyes. And in an act of generosity that gives me hope for the reconciliation process, ABC listeners have come to the aid of a woman who told her story of forced removal to AM and expressed a desire to hear the apology for herself. Sixty eight year old Zita Wallace told AM she couldn't afford the cost of the trip from Alice Springs to Canberra. But within minutes of her story being aired, five listeners had rung the ABC switch offering to fund Ms Wallace's journey. "I think they're just being true-spirited Aussies, and coming out in them their generosity to help another human being, and I feel very honoured that they've selected me and my group to assist."She told PM She is now looking forward to hearing those letters S-O-R-R-Y in person.

Meanwhile, you can read the Stolen Generations' Alliance recommendations on the national apology in this report presented to the government last week..    [read more]

The good news is: Australia Day festivities in Camden – recent hotspot of Islamophobia – transpired without need for the police riot squad on standby to intervene.

The bad news is: the day has clearly been hijacked by yobbos and boofheads.

It’s long been known as Invasion Day by Aboriginal Australians while for others it was traditionally little more than a day for reflection on the elusive definition of Australian identity while searing snags on a barbie. If there was one unifying theme, it was multiculturalism - a celebration of our diversity. But Australia Day is now wrapped in patriotism of a brand as kitsch and aggressive as the idiots, dressed in clothing fashioned from the flag, roaming the streets yelling ‘Aussie, Aussie, Aussie, oi, oi, oi!”. What the Hell does that stupid catchcry mean anyway? It makes me cringe with embarrassment to be Australian.

I’ve long despaired about the impact of Howard’s decade of glorification and sanitisation of ugly chapters of Australian history – Gallipoli and the genocide of Aborigines to name a couple. As a University lecturer, I’ve witnessed the rise of a new brand of US-style patriotism among young people – one which defines itself in isolation from the Other; one which celebrates homogeneity above diversity. But I wasn’t prepared for the scenes I witnessed on the streets of Wollongong, my home town, on Saturday night.

Australia Day is my father’s birthday – ironic considering he was labelled a wog by his schoolmates because of his Italian heritage. So, I headed to The ‘Gong to help him celebrate. I knew it was going to be an interesting night towards the end of the journey from Canberra. The utes adorned with Australian flags began to appear on the outskirts of Camden. By the time we reached the bottom of the Illawarra escarpment, we’d lost count of the number of vehicles we’d seen with enormous flags stuck to car bonnets, roofs and boots; smaller ones flying from makeshift flagpoles attached to aerials and those being waved out windows by ‘flag enthusiasts’.

When we arrived at the car-park of the upmarket beachside restaurant, the hordes were thronging their way to the beachfront. Some were wearing flags as skirts and capes; others added hats made from bits of flag, nationalistic singlets carrying that bloody catchcry and flag tattoos. This is Wollongong – birthplace of Australian multiculturalism where nearly 20% of the population speaks a language other than English at home and many post WW11 immigrants spent their first months in the country. I baulked at the size and youthfulness of the crowds expressing a sort of nationalistic fervour that wouldn’t have been out of place at a Nuremburg rally.

But my disquiet gave way to stunned silence when I entered the restaurant. The waitresses were dressed in nationalistic costume. One wore a flag like a towel; another had fashioned one into a mini-skirt. Most sported t-shirts bearing their allegiance to Aussie crassness. As the Greek-accented head waiter took our order, I noticed his bald head was tattooed with mini-flags and the Southern Cross. Habibi, the African wine-waiter, wore a flag as a cape. Mini Australian flags were strung from the ceiling around the periphery of the room like bunting. It was like walking onto the set of Kath and Kim – I expected Kel to pop out any moment to spruik his roo and tomato sauce snags. In fact, we did eat kangaroo sausages and emu prosciutto ('Straya Day' specials) but thankfully the cuisine was far superior to the décor and atmosphere.

When we left the restaurant to view the beach fireworks the crowds had swollen and beer-swilling yobs were yelling “Aussie, Aussie…etc” at the tops of their hoarse voices. It was a very unappealing scene. From the balconies of million-dollar beachfront apartments more flags flew and the air was thick with testosterone. This was Aussie ‘blokiness’ at its most vile – in bed with nationalism.

I felt unexpectedly threatened amongst the mob being sans-flag and deflecting demands to respond to “Aussie, Aussie, Aussie” with “oi, oi, oi” like Pavlov’s dog. I can only begin to imagine how the woman in the hijab sitting on the park bench nearby felt.

The mob, allegedly so proud of their country, trashed the Wollongong beachfront during their patriotic rampage. It took 15 council workers on an 'emu-parade' and a street-sweeper truck to clean up their mess on Sunday morning.

I certainly wasn’t a proud Aussie on Saturday night. Some will say that makes me ‘un-Australian’, to coin one of Howard’s favourite put downs applied to dissenting voices. There was a time when being anti-establishment was considered a trait of the typical Australian character. These days it seems you’re not authentic unless you’re running with the mob. If that’s the case, I’m proud to be un-Australian.

Aside: Moderately successful country crooner Lee Kernaghan is Australian of the Year. Need I say more?    [read more]

The President-in-waiting and the head of the police force are facing corruption charges. It’s alleged the politician took bribes from arms dealers…his anthem sung by loyal followers is translated as “bring me my machine gun”. The police chief is linked to a crime boss, who is in turn implicated in a high profile murder, but is favoured by the current president whose days are numbered thanks to the successful power-bid by his allegedly corrupt political rival. Meanwhile, the Chief Prosecutor planning to bring the action against the police chief is stood down by the current president and a senior intelligence operative in charge of the investigation is arrested in an apparently retaliatory strike.

You may think it sounds like the plot of a best selling crime drama which sees corruption and organised crime reaching all the way to the presidency but it’s actually the real life drama unfolding in crime-ridden South Africa (SA) as the Rainbow Nation morphs into Banana Republic.

SA President, Thabo Mbeki, stood by the National Commissioner for Police, Jackie Selebi until it was announced this week that he would face charges of corruption and defeating the course of justice. Selebi is now on extended leave and he’s been forced to resign from his position as president of the international crime fighting body, Interpol.

Selebi is accused of racketeering, money laundering, bribery and fraud. Central to these allegations is his “friendship” with the convicted SA drug trafficker, Dennis Agliotti, who is also facing charges connected to the murder of mining magnate, Brett Kebble. A payment of approximately AU $200,000, luxury gifts allegedly given to Selebi, his wife, mistress and children by Agliotti, along with claims Selebi turned a blind eye to drug-smuggling are features of the evidence against him. It's also alleged he received a payment from Kebble, the slain mining magnate.

Shortly after informing Mbeki in writing that the National Prosecuting Authority was investigating Selebi, the National Director of Public Prosecutions, Vusi Pikoli, was stood down. Months of speculation surrounding the case against Selebi ensued as the hesitant acting DPP, Mokotedi Mpshe, kept his cards close to his chest and the elite crime unit in charge of the investigation known as the Scorpions built their case against the police chief.

Then, as the NPA prepared to pounce, the Scorpions’ chief investigator in the case, Gerrie Nel, was arrested in a public show of strength by a barrage of police officers. He was charged with corruption and defeating the ends of justice but those charges were withdrawn this week after Selebi failed in a last ditch bid in the Pretoria High Court to have the investigation against him halted.

Meantime, the man who defeated Mbeki as President of the ANC late last year, Jacob Zuma, is preparing to go to trial on separate corruption charges. Zuma, who has already defeated one lot of similar charges and an allegation of rape, is effectively SA’s President-elect as the leader of the ruling political party.

Zuma, who was sacked as Deputy President by Mbeki in 2005, faces 16 charges including racketeering, corruption, money laundering and fraud. The charges revolve around his his dealings with arms companies (two SA subsidiaries of Thales International - formerly Thomson-CFS - are also facing charges of racketeering and corruption). Zuma’s former financial advisor is already serving jail time for fraud and corruption in connection with the arms deal scandal.

Zuma’s supporters allege the case against him has been politically manipulated by Mbeki. Mbeki is simultaneously accused of striving to protect his disgraced police chief.

Zuma is expected to stand trial in August while Selebi will appear in court on February 1st.

But more pressing than official corruption in the lives of everyday South Africans is the extraordinarily high rate of violent crime. Murder, rape, armed robbery and car-jackings are commonplace in what’s regarded as one of the world’s most dangerous countries. For example, the murder rate in SA is eight times the international average and according to the latest crime statistics, violent home break-ins have increased by 7%, truck hijacking by over 53% and robberies on business have risen by more than 29%.

The police are pushing the good news angle that murder and violent assault decreased slightly over the same period but that is surely of little comfort to the people who the same statistics render less safe in their homes and workplaces than on the street.

It's hardly the Rainbow Nation dream envisaged by Nelson Mandela and the optimistic young democracy that embraced his leadership in the 1990's. And the hope that characterised those early days is gradually being replaced by fear and cynicism...hope won't fill the stomach or keep the door bolted against intruders.

Further Reading: The Editor of the independent South African quality newspaper, Mail and Guardian, Ferial Haffajee has written an insightful piece of analysis on the sad state of SA affairs. She says "Post-Polokwane (the recent ANC conference @ which Zuma was elected Party President - Jp), our country has lost its standing... This view is reinforced by the corruption charges against national police commissioner Jackie Selebi. When the man who wants to be president and the country’s top cop both face serious charges of accepting bribes, racketeering and selling their souls to crooked businessmen, we can reach no other conclusion." You can read the full article here

Update: As if that weren't enough to make you mutter "that country's turning into a basket case" try this: SA has been plunged into darkness by persistent power cuts due to electricity shortages that point to the chronic failure of the system of supply. Trains have been stopped mid-journey (prompting some protesting commuters to set carriages alight); tourists at Cape Town's Table Mountain were left stranded mid-air in cable cars last night (21/1) when the power failed; traffic lights go out at busy Jo'burg intersections; newspaper's printing presses are halted; international investment is under threat as is the economy. Now South Africans are being told electricity rationing will be enforced.

Meantime, Zuma has launched an attack on the SA media, indicating he won't be stepping away from Mbeki's anti-free speech stance. He is currently suing a range of journalists and publications along with a leading cartoonist for defamation. You can read about his stance here and here.

And, the elite crime investigation unit, the Scorpions, which headed the Selebi inquiry is being disbanded by the Mbeki government and merged with the South African Police Service. That's one way to thwart corruption probes.

Further Update: 28/1/08 The power crisis is now so severe SA's economy-dependent gold and platinum mines are being shut down for days at a time. Meanwhile Kiwi anti-apartheid activist John Minto has rejected the top SA honour for foreigners saying he was too dismayed with the state of the country to accept the award. In an open letter to President Mbeki, he wrote "...we were not fighting for a small black elite to become millionaires... .The faces at the top have changed from white to black but the substance of change is an illusion."

For a lighter, brighter perspective on the current crises besetting SA read this blog post    [read more]

2GB – Sydney’s number one talk radio station – has become the first commercial radio operation in Australia to take its news service online.

The ABC, with its bi-media history, has been online since 1997 but Australia’s commercial stations have been slow to join the digital revolution. The lag in commercial radio’s web-presence is dangerous – the future of news is no doubt digital and multi-platform. And while traditional radio talk content will remain relevant, diversification and online accessibility are essential if future audiences are to be found and profits sustained.

The reluctance of radio networks to make the move online can be understood as a product of a blinkered one-platform approach to the business, the under-estimation of the marketability of news and information and the post 80’s boom-time de-funding of quality commercial news services – essential for content production. But change is finally afoot.

2GB – once the centre-pin of the formerly vast Macquarie radio news network - now operates as a single-city station with a bureau in the Canberra press gallery. Its star is Alan Jones - the top-rating and widely syndicated right-wing shock-jock known by detractors as “The Parrott”.

The station’s new online news service – Live News – blends conventional radio content filed by its journalists in Sydney and Canberra with multi-media reports, produced by specialist online reporters based in both centres, with a minimum of wire service stories. Alan Jones also has a ‘spruik spot’ and reporters’ blogs are in development.

The site is gaining popularity (although management isn’t making the figures public) with a significant increase in visitor traffic during the Federal Election and anecdotal evidence from the Canberra bureau of Press Gallery reporters chasing stories from the site.

University of Canberra journalism graduate, John Barrington, is the multimedia reporter based in the Gallery. He came to the job after short stints in regional commercial radio and with AAP. His job is effectively across three platforms. He files radio stories to the traditional news service as required, takes a TV camera to press conferences to file vision online and produces multi-media features for the site. He acknowledges the pressures of multiple-media reporting and the potential for diminution of quality across the board but he maintains a commitment to quality of content over speed in an effort to value-add rather than simply bombarding the site with content.

The vision he files to Live News is used to enhance the text-based representation of radio news stories but he also films, edits and files TV news-style packages with overlay collected from around the national capital.

One curious aspect of Live News, though, is its obvious attempt to distance itself from the radio station it derives its content from. Instead of banking on the successful brand of 2GB/Macquarie News and attempting to bring its existing audience online while building a new, presumably younger, audience through the website, it’s attempted to create an exclusive, disconnected new identity. There’s not even a mention of the radio station on the website. And they’ve started replacing 2GB station identifications with Live News ones on reporters’ microphones in Sydney, emphasising the importance of the new venture.

This approach is short-sighted and underlines the failure of contemporary commercial radio stations to adequately recognise the value of quality news gathering and the brand recognition that exists in association with successful news services.

At the same time, though, the main focus of news gathering and delivery remains the on-air 2GB presence. Radio stories are quarantined from online upload until they’ve been broadcast, reporters’ number one filing priority is to the radio bulletins and the online commitments of the dedicated multi-media reporters are subjugated to the needs of the radio news service as required on busy news days or during staff shortages.

This ordering of priorities may change as the operation establishes itself and online content begins to prove its value but for now the online version of 2GB News is a little confused about its identity. Nevertheless, it's a pioneering step for an Australian commercial radio station and one which should be watched with interest.

While modes of delivery may alter and value-adding through multimedia output is likely to become the norm, the future of radio journalism is potentially bright. There will always be a place for live, interactive broadcasting (regardless of the delivery platform) and radio journalists’ skills should be the most sought after by producers of online content. Radio news reporters are traditionally the fastest gatherers, interpreters and disseminators of news and these skills are well suited to the insatiable appetite of online news. Independent operators and tech-savvy as a requirement of the mobile, single-operator approach to radio news gathering, radio reporters are also adaptable media workers who have the potential to thrive in the age of digital journalism.

Video didn't kill radio’s star and neither will the digital revolution but recognising the value of quality journalism and building multimedia content around radio news is central to the medium's survival in the online age.    [read more]

Australia Day (January 26th) – that nationalistic celebration of the First Fleet's landing which Aborigines refer to as “Invasion Day” – is shaping up as a potentially dangerous event in Camden.

The town on Sydney’s south-western outskirts is the site of a proposed Islamic School and a racist backlash against the plans.

A rally held less than a week before Christmas in opposition to the school attracted nearly 800 residents and high profile conservative politicians. The public strategy of the anti-school lobby has been to oppose the proposal on planning grounds. But the racism underpinning the campaign is palpable.

Angry young men wearing the Australian flag as an accessory hurled anti-Muslim abuse outside last month’s protest meeting. Pigs heads were thrust onto stakes suspending the Australian flag on the site of the proposed school the previous month and last week a car full of men yelled racial abuse and swore at a Muslim woman being interviewed by a Sun Herald journalist at the site. The woman, Jameela Ahmed, was speaking of peace – she’s planning a forum to try to educate the community about Islam and the school proposal, believing much of the opposition is based on fear and misconceptions. "We just want to educate and calm the situation," she told the Sun-Herald.

But while her attempts at building community cohesion are admirable, the President of the Camden McArthur Residents Group, Emil Sremchevich, has defended the right of Australia First - the extremist political party with white supremacist leanings - to hold a rally in Camden on Australia Day. The party was accused of fuelling the 2005 Cronulla race riots and reportedly plans to distribute anti-Muslim propaganda on Australia Day. Racist text messages calling for protests on January 26th against Muslims have already been in circulation.

While Mr Sremchevich said the group wouldn’t officially support the Australia First rally because the media would just focus on the ‘rednecks’, he told AAP Australia Day was an appropriate time for such a rally because it celebrated "what Australia's become, its democratic rights ... and freedom of speech".

Mr Sremchevich denies his opposition is motivated by prejudice but his message is clearly populist. “The majority rules, the governments are elected by the majority ... if the minority doesn't like it, bad luck” he told the Sydney Morning Herald. One can’t help but wonder if his own non-Anglo background may not have caused him to suffer as a minority.

The nationalistic zealotry fueled by former Prime Minister John Howard has made racists more brazen and Camden is a firestorm waiting to happen. Love of country is now confused with nationalism and patriotism has an ugly overtone. Scenes of beer swilling, marauding yobbos desecrating the beaches of Gallipoli on ANZAC Day are now commonplace thanks to the revival of a brand of mass-produced, ignorant, misplaced patriotism. The mob violence in Cronulla tapped into this phenomenon and confronted Australia with its racist underbelly while demonstrating the threat posed to social cohesion by large groups of stupid, loosely organised people exposed to the right triggers for violence.

What happened to Australian identity being expressed in terms of multiculturalism, tolerance and a fair go for all? The xenophobic alternative is an ugly badge I can’t stand seeing my country wear.

The traditional Australia Day fireworks display risks becoming a powder keg in Camden and the opportunities for protective community building in that town are fast running out.    [read more]

It’s been another bad news start to a new year. The aftermath of the assassination of Benazir Bhutto in Pakistan; the bloodbath that continues following a flawed election in Kenya; the deadly quagmire that is Iraq…

It would be easy to become overwhelmed by the human suffering and environmental devastation that comprise so much of our daily news consumption. And sometimes I do feel like shutting the door on the world and retreating into my imagination. But the stuff of life propels me and I’m determined to seek out love and beauty beneath the deep surface cracks of my existence and the world I inhabit.

I’m inspired by resilient people who persevere in the face of hardship. Some of these characters inhabit the subtext of the stories in our news feeds. Among them are the ones who risk their lives for peace and democracy. But I also find inspiration among my students, my friends and family.

Scratch the surface of any life and you’ll encounter suffering. But it’s hope and survival that really interest me. In my own life, I’ve just escaped a decade in which my husband was twice diagnosed with a life-threatening form of cancer and underwent horrendous treatment regimes; I broke my back, watched my ABC career disintegrate and spent years in court fighting an Australian corporate giant while the prospect of bankruptcy loomed; and I lost three babies to miscarriage among the usual twists and turns of life.

Through the negative news filter this story – my story - is a one dimensional, utterly depressing tale. But there’s another angle. I am still here and I’m still laughing and crying and loving and fighting to suck all the joy and experience I can from life. Yes, there were dark patches where the days were as negative as the headlines but there was also friendship and the warmth of the sun on my sore back and sunsets viewed from my front porch with kangaroos in the foreground and birdsong in the air. There were travels as well as travails…sublime moments nestled between the sadness and the suffering.

I was proud to find I had the inner strength and tenacity to survive these experiences and now I’m starting to thrive again. But I marvel at others around me who live full lives in the face of daily struggles where hope for a different outcome is just not realistic.

Witness my sister: the very model of a superwoman. She has two jobs, a husband and two beautiful children, one of whom suffers from an extremely rare genetic kidney disease called Nephrogenic Diabetes Insipidus (NDI). My 3-year-old nephew, Liam, was hospitalised at 12 weeks of age, close to death and with a multitude of symptoms that baffled myriad specialists until he received the dubious honour of being named a boy with NDI - one in four million. This disease - that threatens Liam's life and slows his development - has my sister rising at least three times a night to change her son’s bed-sheets and administer four different drugs.

My sister and her kids stayed with me this week and whenever I witness the burden of the disease first-hand, my astonishment at her extraordinary coping and life-management skills is renewed. Liam is a gorgeous boy, who is thriving despite his illness, and he brings her joy but there is real hardship in caring for him. She is nurse, mother, executive producer, counsellor, sister, friend, wife, salesperson and household chair of the board rolled into one beautiful package. Her perseverance, determination, stamina and strength in the face of this disease inspire me. Love drives her and defines her.

Every story has its inspirational characters and positive angle. I encourage you to look beneath the headlines of your life and the lives of others; to expose what’s rich and beautiful; to follow unexpected paths; to take a risk; to abandon your fear of love. There will be dark and painful days in the year ahead but survival is in waking up and embracing the bright days.

My motto for 2008 is tried and true: Carpe Diem (seize the day)!    [read more]