Category Archives: Politics

Why I’m voting Yes to the Voice

I don’t speak for anyone but myself, but I doubt anyone who knows me would be surprised to hear I will be voting “YES” in the Australian constitutional referendum next week.

As I have listened to Aboriginal sisters and brothers, particularly my fellow Christian leaders, I hear gracious, gentle, and careful, yet firm and overwhelming, encouragement to do so. Some have acknowledged that this proposal is not perfect, as no proposal ever could be. But it is a step forward, and the only alternative on the table is the status quo. A wise, godly Gurindji woman I sat with on her country late last year summed it up this way: “We are extending a hand of friendship to you, to walk forward together. If you slap that hand away, where can we go from there?”

I’m happy to share publicly how I will be voting on this, because if the referendum is unsuccessful, I will be disappointed – and I don’t have a very good poker face. More importantly, I will want to be asking lots of questions about what else we will do instead. My only previous experience of voting in a referendum is the one where the “no” vote resulted in us essentially taking the whole topic of conversation off the national agenda for the next 25 years. I can’t bear the thought that that could be what happens with regards to reconciliation in this country. 

This referendum is the culmination of an unprecedented consultation process that was supported by both major political parties and sought to listen to Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander representatives from across the nation. The Uluru Statement from the Heart is addressed to the Australian public from Aboriginal people, and asks for substantiative and structural reform that they believe will make a difference in their communities, including a Constitutional Voice. It saddens me that this grassroots proposal after years of consultation has become unhelpfully politicised through campaigns of misinformation and now risks being rejected because of which party people associate it with.

There’s been a lot of talk about division. In some sense, referenda are inherently divisive: they divide us into those who vote yes and those who vote no. Which means we are already “divided” in the sense that we hold different views. In 1967, our nation was divided between the 90% who voted to count Aboriginal people in the population of our nation, and the 10% who said no even to that. Whatever happens next Saturday, there will be that simple division because a referendum is a blunt instrument. As is any election. We don’t get to vote on all the individual policies proposed by each political party, we get to select a candidate to represent us. Democracy itself is far from perfect, but that’s how it works: we acknowledge our different views, and we seek a majority consensus in order to move forward. And then, at our best, we seek to walk together with everyone regardless of how they voted. The polarisation of political debate around the world in recent decades exasperates me because it seems we are losing the ability to move forward at all when we disagree. We can choose a different way, but using the idea that disagreement or division in itself is intolerable isn’t going to help us get there. 

There’s also been a lot of talk about details and blank cheques, which perhaps betrays the lack of engagement Australians have with our Constitution. It is not a details document. It doesn’t even mention the role of the Prime Minister! It sets out broad principles and then gives the government of the day the power to legislate all the details … and gives future elected governments the power to change those details. I believe this referendum is quite a modest proposal. All it guarantees moving forward is that there will be a body called the Voice. If successful, it will be up to our members of parliament (all of them, including those who strongly opposed the Voice or have serious questions about it) to discuss, debate and together determine the details of how it will work. A proposal to put all the details in the Constitution would actually be far more problematic, binding ourselves to a particular process rather than to an outcome.

I’ve been particularly disturbed by the call to ignorance, i.e. “If you don’t know, vote no.” As far as slogans go, I much prefer, “If you’re not sure, find out more.” As citizens in a democracy, it is both our privilege and I believe our obligation to make an informed decision, to listen and learn and to not give in to the temptation to retreat to our echo chambers. It can be difficult to listen to those we disagree with, and difficult to sort out truth from fear. And it’s even easier to opt out when for us non-indigenous Australians, there isn’t really that much at stake. I grieve for my Aboriginal sisters and brothers who have had to endure months of too many people talking about “them” as an issue rather than as people.

As a follower of Jesus, I’m drawn to the Bible’s calls towards humility, mercy, and justice. To putting the needs of others above our own, lifting up those who have been downtrodden, and owning up to our own mistakes as well as the privileges of the wealth and power we have inherited at others’ expense. I’m horrified by the disparities in our nation and the realities of the generational impact of our history. If there is a step that those affected believe will bring healing and restoration, why wouldn’t we take it? As a student of the Old Testament, I’m also challenged by the role of land and therefore the idea of what I call “groundedness” – the profound truth that God meets people within their time and place, and that therefore our own location matters and responding well to that is a discipleship question. This means I have to reckon with what it means to follow Jesus as a non-indigenous person in this land.

As a Baptist, I also believe in freedom of conscience and so I understand that others might bristle at the thought that I am telling them what to do or how to vote. That is not my intention. But I also don’t want that freedom to become an excuse for staying silent or not robustly participating in the political questions of our day. While the gospel is never partisan, it always has political implications, and we must continue to wrestle together with how best to demonstrate our love for Jesus and love for our neighbours in practice at a national as well as individual level. For me, I’m not sure how else to do that here, than to trust that taking the hand of friendship offered and walking forward together is a better choice than standing still apart.

Artwork by Safina Stewart, Common Grace

A story 125 years in the making

Today is a significant anniversary here in South Australia: it is 125 years since the passing of the Adult Suffrage Bill, which gave women both the right to vote and the right to stand for parliament. SA became the second place in the world to give women the first right (after New Zealand the previous year) and the first place in the world to give women the second right.

The first was the result of hard work, petitions, campaigning, fundraisers, advocacy and support. The second was an accident.

Member of the Legislative Council, Ebenezer Ward, was a fierce opponent of women’s suffrage. When he realised that majority support had swung the other way, he came up with what he thought was a brilliant plan (now sometimes called ‘The Great Miscalculation‘). He moved an amendment to the bill that would allow women to not only vote but to stand for election as well. He thought surely such a radical proposal, one not even the suffragettes had been asking for, would lead to the entire bill being defeated. He was wrong, and he gave himself the unwanted distinction of being responsible for giving South Australian women at the time the widest enfranchisement in the world.*

As a Christian, I’m intrigued and encouraged by the involvement of many church leaders in the movement towards women’s suffrage, and the theological convictions that underpinned their advocacy. (Despite people like Ward quoting the Bible against them). Leading advocates included Mary Colton, a mother of nine and a Methodist Sunday School teacher who also founded the Adelaide Children’s Hospital; Elizabeth Nicholls, president of the Women’s Christian Temperance Union and another Methodist Sunday School teacher; Rosetta Birks, a devoted Baptist who married her sister’s widower and became stepmother to their six children; and Serena Lake, who initially came to Adelaide as a preacher with the Bible Christian movement, filling the town hall for her first meeting. They were well supported by men like Joseph Coles Kirby, a Congregationalist minister; Sylvanus Magarey, a medical doctor and influential member of the Churches of Christ; and Robert Caldwell, a Methodist Member of Parliament. (When the Centre for Democracy made the 1894 Suffrage Petition searchable online earlier this year, I was pleased to see leading Baptist pastor and planter of my church, Silas Mead, had signed it … not just once but three times!)

The most well known and leading advocate for women’s suffrage was Mary Lee, a non-conformist Irish widow who came to SA as a fifty-eight year old to nurse her sick son and stayed after he died. She founded the Women’s Suffrage League, writing letters and making speeches that inspired many. When questioned about “women’s place” in society under God, she wrote, ‘…however and wherever woman can be of best and widest usefulness to her fellow men and women, there, by God’s providence, is her allotted sphere.’

These are the kinds of stories we need to tell; stories of people of faith and conviction working for the good of others and for the good of society as a whole.

Too many people dismiss history as ‘boring’, perhaps because we have failed to engage them with the stories of ordinary people upon whose shoulders we stand and by whose example we can be inspired. That’s certainly how I’m feeling today, and I’m thankful for these women and men. To read more of their story, see “Votes for Women”, by Dr Helen Jones on the Women & Politics website.

But I’m also reminded that history includes stories like that of Ebenezer Ward, who made one foolish move and probably spent the rest of his life regretting it. The Adelaide newspaper of the day described him as “gifted with histrionic power … and curiously deficient in humour,” so it’s unlikely he saw the funny side of it. I think his story is worth telling too … there’s probably a lesson in there somewhere, even if not the one he planned.

 

*It is important to note that the rights granted extended to Aboriginal women. These were taken away from them by the Commonwealth in 1902 and not reinstated until 1962, another shameful chapter in the history of this nation’s treatment of its indigenous peoples.

 

 

 

Beyond #changethedate, how do we #changetheheart?

Here we are again. January 26. A day on which I am often tempted to engage with all kinds of ideas and questions and debates. Last year, I posted about some of the things that I have learned over the last couple of decades that have led me to think we need to #changethedate.

But this year, through listening to some of my Aboriginal sisters and brothers I have learned it is so much more than that.

We need to #changetheheart in order to #changethenation. 

Because in terms of the big picture, the reality is that since this time last year, nothing has really changed. Australia still has the world’s largest life expectancy gap between indigenous and non-indigenous people. A Human Rights Report Card released this month gives us a dismal F-minus for progress on indigenous rights this year. And changing the date will not itself change these realities.

Hearing again the statistics leads me to mourning and despair again. But I also know that my own heart has been softened, challenged, and broken further over this past year. And that is probably a good place to start.

This year I’ve tried to open my eyes to see the First Nations people around me in my city, to appreciate what I have to learn from them and to be confronted with the suffering too many of them are enduring.

While in Israel in April, what I saw challenged me to recognise myself as someone who lives on a land that is not my own, and to consider what it would mean in practice to identify myself this way.

After coming home, I took some time to read through and reflect on the Uluru Statement from the Heart. How can I respond to its calls for truth telling and walking together?

In June I was challenged to learn each day of National Reconciliation Week, hearing and sharing some of the horrific stories of the history of our nation’s response to our indigenous people.

In October I had the privilege of standing side by side with Aboriginal Christian leader Brooke Prentis as our church accepted her hand of friendship as we continue to journey in listening to our Aboriginal sisters and brothers.

This week I attended a service of Lament and Prayer and joined with indigenous and non-indigenous sisters and brothers in hope for a better future in this land.

I don’t list these things to make it sound like I have achieved anything or arrived anywhere. Each of these have been simple and small steps, and I have still have so much to learn.

But I want to keep challenging myself, and I want to challenge you, to keep taking steps of friendship and reconciliation. To let my heart and not just my head be impacted by what this day means for First Nations peoples and so to grow in understanding, respect and acknowledgment.

These are the things that have been changing my heart and I hope there are more to come. What is changing yours?

Photo of Common Grace #changetheheart flyer for 2019 prayer services