Julia Hurst is part of the Indigenous-Settler Relations Collaboration and a lecturer in Aboriginal and Torres Strait islander history at the University of Melbourne.
MELBOURNE — The land now known as Australia is an invaded, colonized place. When the invaders arrived, they settled on the basis of the legal fiction of terra nullius, or land belonging to no one, despite the existence of more than 500 clans or nations of Traditional Owner groups.
Digging up this land is the cornerstone of Australia’s modern economy. The rocks we’ve sold to China have seen us avoid recession for 29 years. And while our run of economic growth has ended, we’re ever more dependent on blowing up, digging out and putting our land on ships to make steel for buildings in faraway places.
Australia’s determination to ignore its Indigenous people and their heritage in favor of economic exploitation was made evident in May, when news broke that mining giant Rio Tinto had deliberately destroyed the Juukan Gorge Caves, a cultural site of the Puutu Kunti Kurrama and Pinikura Traditional Owner (PKKP) people of Western Australia.
Rio Tinto knew the site was of international significance and held evidence of 46,000 years of continuous human occupation across a changing climate, including the last Ice Age.
Because of the weak protections offered by the outdated Aboriginal Heritage Act of 1972 (WA), Rio Tinto’s destruction of the site was, in fact, lawful.
Archaeologists had salvaged more than 7,000 artifacts — some more than 40,000 years old — from the area. One of the artifacts was a 4,000-year-old plait of human hair, which represented a precious genetic link to present-day Traditional Owners. In regular meetings with Rio Tinto, they had tried to stop the destruction of the caves from proceeding, reminding the company that the site was “one of the most sacred sites in the Pilbara region.”
And yet, on Australia’s National Sorry Day — which remembers the mistreatment of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Island people who were forcibly removed from their families and communities — Rio Tinto went ahead with its plans.
Because of the weak protections offered by the outdated Aboriginal Heritage Act of 1972 (WA), Rio Tinto’s destruction of the site was, in fact, lawful. But after the story broke, something unusual happened.
Shareholders revolted, and on social media thousands called for Rio Tinto to be held accountable — a campaign buoyed by the global Black Lives Matter movement that, in Australia, empowered Indigenous groups to speak out against the myth that Australia had solved its problems with racism.
As pressure built, a sacrifice had to be made. In this case, it was Rio Tinto’s CEO, Jean-Sébastien Jacques. In September, the company announced two other top executives would also leave the company.
This incident was not an isolated one. The destruction of heritage sites is occurring on large and small scales across the country. And it is no coincidence: Australia is the only Commonwealth country not to have a treaty with its Indigenous people, and its laws and legislation designed to protect cultural heritage are too weak to work.
The destruction of a historical site of such global significance would not be tolerated in other countries. Is it time, then, that the international community applied pressure to Australia to do better?
Under growing pressure from activists, the European Union has tied future economic cooperation with China to its record on human rights, following reports of mass abuse of its Uighur population Xinjiang province. It should take the same considerations into account when it comes to negotiating its trade agreement with Australia.
Australia’s economic dependence and the enormous wealth of its mining industry mean that many of its laws designed to protect Indigenous heritage are worthless.
Mining companies spend billions on lobbyists who stalk the halls of power to ensure decisions go their way, while PR firms remind Australian citizens that the fortunes of their retirement funds depend on the country’s ongoing growth. Their astonishing power was on display in 2010 when a campaign by Australia’s top mining industry association, the Minerals Council, led to the removal of Prime Minister Kevin Rudd from office.
The Ranger uranium mine near Darwin in Australia’s Northern Territory is owned by a subsidiary of Rio Tinto | Image via iStock
It has taken furious shareholders and politicians for the country to finally recognize the systemic injustice faced by Aboriginal people, of which the blowing up of the Juukan Caves is just the latest, starkest example.
The forceful backlash against Rio Tinto that followed is a sign that things may be changing.
Since the ousting of Rio Tinto’s CEO, BHP — the company’s biggest competitor — has halted plans to destroy 40 sacred Aboriginal sites. Three BHP executives have been called to front the federal inquiry following the destruction of the Juukan Gorge Caves.
Australia must learn from this disaster and make an effort to build legislation that truly reflects and preserves the significance of Aboriginal peoples’ history and heritage.
Europe — as it engages in talks with Australia’s government and as a self-professed defender of human rights — shouldn’t pass up the opportunity to press that point.