Illustration by Sarah Coulthard
In my last column I wanted to shine a spotlight on Australia’s piss-poor climate policies over the past decade, and whilst it was informative I felt I hadn’t given her environmental activists the recognition they deserved. It was necessary to provide the context of Australia’s political system and their unabashed love for coal and fossil fuels because, for the most part, Australia has managed to hide behind other big polluters. The US, China, and India get criticised consistently for their poor climate record, but the transgressions of the Australian government seem to be missing from the global consciousness. This column will instead focus on the unique struggles facing Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people, and their fight to protect their land and their future in an ever-changing Australia.
“We have our eye on the same destination – a sustainable future where Indigenous people are recognized for their wisdom and honoured for their culture – there is no problem taking a different path to reach that place.” – Kirstie Parker, journalist and Aboriginal Australian activist.
As the world starts to feel the first effects of climate change, Australia finds herself in an incredibly precarious situation. The harsh conditions of Australia’s climate were already a challenge, now with increasingly severe weather events, Australians are bracing themselves for a grim future. Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islanders will feel the effects of climate change far more significantly than their non-Indigenous counterparts, and are already being disproportionately affected by the worsening climate. Quite fundamentally, the native population of Australia is linked culturally, spiritually, and economically to the land. Scorching temperatures not only threaten the amount of bush tucker or other native foods available, but will undoubtedly threaten important spiritual practices.
When traversing long distances as part of their temporary mobility (more widely known as a ‘walkabout’), young Aboriginal men will find themselves in increasingly vulnerable positions as surface temperatures can (and have) exceeded 60°C. Housing in town camps (areas set aside for Aboriginal people to live in and around cities) aren’t fit for the heat, and with the lack of rainfall, communities are running out of water. Rising sea levels and climate change-induced floods threaten the 200 islands of the Torres Straits and the islanders who live there. With no tangible government assistance, they are already facing the difficult decision of having to completely uproot themselves.
Displacement and relocation are particularly concerning for Aboriginal Australians as it leads to the disruption of the structures and traditions of the community, and a loss of sacred sites and connection to their ancestral land. As seen in the past, severing that connection between Aboriginals and their land has detrimental effects to their wellbeing. In fact, without the unique knowledge and practices of Aboriginal communities, the land itself suffers without their presence. And so these factors must be taken into account when we discuss the necessity of Aboriginal decisions being at the heart of Australian climate policy.
Whilst the previous government failed to consider climate change a serious threat, there are hopes that new leadership will bring about a greener Australia. Although the environmental movement had historically been weaponized as a threat to job security, energy and, in general, a plague to the Australian way of life, growing climate anxiety amongst voters ultimately swayed the debate around related policy, with the majority of the country in agreement that global warming and climate change need to be taken seriously. The results from the elections made it clear that Australians envisage a new, cleaner future, and one that involves tougher, more concrete environmental policy.
There are multiple reasons for this shift in attitude, not all of which we can cover in one sitting, but certainly one of the most important has been the tireless work of Australia’s climate activists who have campaigned for years to see this change. In 2019, thousands of school children walked out in protest of the government’s handling of climate change as part of the School Strike 4 Climate movement. The demonstrations saw hundreds of thousands of Australians gather together in a remarkable show of solidarity and defiance, with protestors ranging from toddlers to the elderly, Indigenous and non-Indigenous Australians alike. Whilst it’s a more reserved form of defiance, the use of social media and the organisation of community-led events like beach cleanups and film screenings was nonetheless crucial to building consensus on climate change.
We can still do more to recognise the work of Indigenous activists who are so often resigned to the footnotes of history. For instance, the recent wave of climate activism has birthed groups like the First Nations Clean Energy Network, a community-lead network of First Nations people, academics and industry groups driving affordable, clean energy projects, and ensuring access to Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples.
SEED, Australia’s first Indigenous youth climate network, brings the Indigenous youth together to unite them towards building a ‘just and sustainable future’. A key objective of the project is to develop strong ties between Indigenous youths across Australia and to support them in leading sustainability projects within their own communities. Founder Amelia Telford was part-way through her university education when she decided to defer her studies and develop the program through the Australian Youth Climate Coalition. Originally from Bundajalung, Telford witnessed the land erosion of her hometown and was struck by the lack of Indigenous voices within the environmental movement.
Aboriginal leaders are also starting to see some victories in securing control of their land. The fight over land ownership and the reclamation has been a struggle for Aboriginal people since colonisation by Western and European settlers. Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people frequently find themselves up against big fossil fuel companies, who secure land ownership rights through the courts even against the wishes of the communities who exist on the land they’re about to rip up. Some recent examples include the Rio Tinto iron ore mine expansion (which lead to the destruction of 46,000-year-old Aboriginal heritage site in Juukan Gorge), a $3.6 billion Santos gas project (where 850 new coal seam gas wells were drilled into 1,000 hectares of Gamilaraay Land), as well as the Narrabri gas project (also by Santos) which threatens the livelihoods of the Gomeroi people.
As the traditional owners of the Gomeroi Nation, they have been fighting to defend their land against Santos for a decade and have refused to enter into any agreements with the company looking to construct the new oil and gas project on their land. Continuation of the project would see the destruction of Pilliga Forest, causing irreversible cultural and environmental damage. Furthermore, communities in the region source their fresh water from the underground rivers, and so rely directly upon the land and water of Pilliga Forest for their everyday needs. The fate of the forest currently stands with the National Native Title Tribunal, who are expecting to make a decision soon. Ultimately, the health and welfare of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people are inextricably linked to the health of the environment, and any policy or decision that results in its destruction should be taken as an act of aggression towards the native people.
Seeking justice for Australia’s Indigenous people comes hand in hand with environmental protection. And so any government serious about acting on climate change will need to start with immediate changes to the legislation surrounding Indigenous land ownership. A fight to protect the rights of Aboriginals and Torres Strait Islanders is thus a fight for climate justice.