INTRODUCTION

ABORIGINAL AND TORRES STRAIT

ISLANDER EMPLOYMENT POLICIES AND
REPEATING COLONIAL HISTORIES

Celeste Liddle

Since the colonisation of Australia, the question of work and how

Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people are to be engaged in it have
led to the formation of what have been some incredibly oppressive
legislations and practices. It’s thanks to these practices that
intergenerational poverty remains a reality for so many in the Indigenous
community.
Unfortunately intergenerational poverty is a reality which, for so many,
will continue for generations to come. Governmental approaches to
Indigenous employment have long been punitive, rather than focused on
community capacity-building. In 2018, approximately 30,000 Aboriginal
and Torres Strait Islander people across remote and regional parts of this
country are engaged in a form of indentured servitude known by the
relatively benign government title the ‘Community Development
Programme,’ or CDP.
CDP is no different in its focus on punishment rather than advancement.
Participants in the programme are expected to work 25 hours per week
just to receive unemployment benefits. They labour in roles which
elsewhere in the country would be considered normal local government
employment attracting proper wages and employment conditions such as
leave and occupational health and safety protections.

Liddle, C. (2018)
‘Introduction – Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Employment Policies
and Repeating Colonial Histories’
Journal of Australian Political Economy
No. 82, pp. 5-8.
6 JOURNAL OF AUSTRALIAN POLITICAL ECONOMY No 82

However, many of these communities living under CDP have been

systematically neglected by successive governments due to their
population composition and remoteness. In order to receive services
people elsewhere in the country take for granted, these residents are
expected to trade basic human rights. Even as report after report shows
that residents in CDP coverage areas are being penalised for programme
non-compliance and cut off from their Centrelink payments at
significantly higher rates than non-Indigenous welfare recipients; even as
these reports show the CDP is an abject failure leading to issues such as
further poverty and malnutrition, the programme continues.
This cycle of punishment shows not much has changed from the days of
Aboriginal men being sent to work camps such as Rottnest Island for
killing the sheep of pastoralists in order to feed their families. Or fair-
skinned Aboriginal kids being sent to places such as the Cootamundra
Girl’s Home to be penalised for their mixed heritage then trained up in
domestic skills so they could provide free labour to wealthy white
families. Each generation has merely brought a more socially-acceptable
approach to forcing unpaid labour in Indigenous communities.
Yet there has been hope over the years. In 1966, a group of Aboriginal
stockmen and domestic servants working for Lord Vestey in the Northern
Territory walked off the job. Initially, they took action over a pay dispute
– Aboriginal workers were being paid significantly less than their non-
Indigenous counterparts while being also treated horribly. An earlier case
for equal pay for these Aboriginal workers had been knocked back and
so, having had enough, they eventually withdrew their labour. Their
action became a famous strike known as the Wave Hill Walk-Off, for not
only did it last for 9 years, but the cause grew from equal pay to the
return of traditional lands to their rightful owners. The iconic photo of
then Prime Minister Gough Whitlam pouring land into the hand of the
walk-off leader Vincent Lingiari holds an important place of pride in the
history of this country.
Despite there now being legislation protecting equal pay for Aboriginal
workers, though, the battle continues. For generations, when Aboriginal
workers were actually paid, many found their wages held in government
‘trusts’ never to be seen again – later to be referred to as ‘stolen wages.’
Inherited wealth, which many Australians have been able to take for
granted due to the paid work of their forebears, simply has not existed for
most Indigenous workers. Additionally, while the gender pay gap was in
 INTRODUCTION 7

2018 reported to be 14.6% – the lowest it has been for twenty years
(though still not good enough considering that equal pay for comparable
work was legislated in 1972) – Indigenous people are still significantly
more likely to be on lower incomes, or to be unemployed, than everyone
else. Even when we are being paid, many Aboriginal workers spend a lot
of time providing free education to our non-Indigenous colleagues and
managers; navigating workspaces which often reflect the racially-divided
society we continue to live in.
Indeed, it has only been in recent times – the past decade to be precise –
where discussions of a rising Indigenous middle class have been raised.
Whilst it’s true that Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people are
gaining post-secondary qualifications at higher rates than has been the
case previously, it would be wrong to assume that, on the whole, this has
led to a broader prosperity in the community. Indeed, the latest census
data show only about 6% of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people
have a university degree or above. Additionally, according to reported
governmental data, Indigenous students still only make up 1.3% of the
university student population. When we consider that the median age for
Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people is 23 (compared to the
Australian average of nearly 38), and year 12 attainment rates are
growing, it makes little sense that university enrolments are merely a
third of what they would need to be to reach parity levels of
participation. Even then, as a recent National Tertiary Education Union
member survey has shown, Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander
university staff have experienced racism in their workplaces. If learning
environments remain hostile environments for Indigenous staff to
navigate, the student experience will be similar.
At the end of the day, it’s not enough for governments to only speak
about ‘closing the gap’ when it comes to Aboriginal and Torres Strait
Islander workforce participation. Indeed, through their continual punitive
approaches, their unwillingness to learn from the past and their inability
to work with communities in collaborative ways, governments created
then reinforced these gaps.
In order for workforce participation rates to improve, society itself would
need to improve by finally addressing the structural barriers which have
impacted the lives of so many Indigenous people for generations.
Education would need to become more diverse and inclusive, stolen
wages must be returned and real wages must be paid for real work.
8 JOURNAL OF AUSTRALIAN POLITICAL ECONOMY No 82

Governments must become brave enough to rectify wrongs and work

collaboratively with Indigenous communities. Current paternalistic
approaches will only lead to history repeating.

Celeste Liddle is an Arrernte woman, a unionist an activist, a social

commentator/freelance writer, and is the creator of the blog “Rantings of
an Aboriginal Feminist”. She’s currently a columnist for Eureka Street
[email protected]
BOOK REVIEW

Deirdre Howard-Wagner, Maria Bargh and Isabel

Altamirano-Jiménez (eds)
The Neoliberal State, Recognition And Indigenous
Rights: New Paternalism To New Imaginings
ANU Press, Canberra, 2018, 352pp., $53, paperback.

Reviewed by Amy Thunig

The Neoliberal State, Recognition, and Indigenous Rights: New
Paternalism to New Imaginings offers a considered, insightful collection
of essays and interpretative micro-studies which analyse and discuss
‘actually existing neoliberalism’ and the ways in which this manifests,
impacting Indigenous lives, communities, and agency. Edited by Deidre
Howard-Wagner, Maria Bargh, and Isabel Altamirano-Jiménez, who
collectively crafted the introduction, this is a text which will find
application and relevance across various fields due to the insight and
poignant commentaries made on the intersectional nature of Indigenous
rights and recognition and the state in the neoliberal age within Australia,
Canada, and Aotearoa/New Zealand. With sixteen contributors, some of
whom identify as First Peoples, this text cumulatively represents a
diverse range of experiences, expertise, and understandings resulting in a
collection which provides a mix of provocative, innovative, and practical
considerations. Discussions and analyses of the manifestations of
neoliberalism within various contexts, as well as the constraining and
enabling aspects of neoliberal governance specifically in the context of
Indigenous peoples, is an identified objective of this edited collection,
and in this way it is positioned as the first collection of its kind.
Approaching this text from the perspective of someone who, whilst
engaged in the politics of living, researching, and teaching as an
Indigenous woman has not engaged formally in political theory, the use
of sector-specific jargon at first lent this reader to perceive the text as
heavy reading. However, the guiding structure of this collection,
including the locating of each contributor, the discerning introduction,

‘Book Review’
Journal of Australian Political Economy
No. 82, pp. 190-3.
 BOOK REVIEW 191

and the grouping of essays into three distinct themes make for an
insightful and valuable read even for a political novice. The editors
outline that contributors were invited to ‘share innovative, practical and
provocative ideas with respect to Indigenous rights, recognition, and the
state in the neoliberal age’ (p. xxi) and, in this way, this text delivers.
Refreshing in its move away from deficit language, this assemblage
examines and critiques the structures in which indigeneity, identity,
rights, and the complexities of economics and politics within
colonisation impact the day-to-day experiences and opportunities of First
Peoples. With special mention to the contributions by Alexander Paige
and Shelley Bielefeld, ‘The Neoliberal State, Recognition, and
Indigenous Rights’ adds to the growing body of scholarship which
discusses the racialised effects of neoliberalism, particularly in the
context of Indigenous peoples, rights, and aspects of life such as
consumerism and the privatisation of social welfare. In this way it lends
observation and application to intersecting fields such as education,
health, and any sector where settler relations and the state impact on First
Peoples experiences and outcomes – which is arguably every sector in
colonised lands such as Australia, Canada, and Aotearoa/New Zealand.
Whilst these critiques and discussions demonstrate the ways in which
neoliberalism enacts a new form of paternalism, and is problematic for
various Indigenous communities and organisations, it is important to note
that as the title indicates the focus of this text is not only on paternalism,
but also on new imaginings. And the writers and editors have collectively
delivered on both. Arguments are made that while dispossession occurs
through the market, it also provides a mechanism for achieving self-
determination in the neoliberal age. Many of the authors illustrate how
Indigenous economic development and enterprise offers greater access to
self-determination, changing the relationship Indigenous peoples have
with the state. Such considerations are important in Australia’s current
political climate. For readers who are seeking insight into possibilities
and experiences within the continent now known as Australia, chapter 5
‘Expressions of Indigenous Rights and Self-Determination from the
Ground Up: A Yawuru Example’ by Mandy Yap and Eunice Yu is of
considerable value in its examination of self-determination, well-being,
policy and neoliberalism. Howard-Wagner, Bargh and Altamirano-
Jiménez’s co-authored chapter highlights various ways in which
Indigenous rights in Australia have been wound back, commencing with
then Prime Minister John Howard in 1996, and resulting in a ‘complex
192 JOURNAL OF AUSTRALIAN POLITICAL ECONOMY No 82

hybridisation of neoliberal strategies that today target every dimension of

Aboriginal life, from social security, to school attendance, to the way
Aboriginal organisations do business’ (p. 14). This further highlights the
relationship between neoliberalism, self-determination and lived
experience of First Peoples in Australia. Emerging as a central theme,
poverty (and poverty governance) is argued to be a manifestation of an
overtly racial project driven and enforced through paternalistic
governance which drives disadvantage. As a researcher who is
particularly engaged in the intersectional experiences of female
academics who identify as First Peoples, chapter 2 ‘Privatisation and
dispossession in the name of indigenous women’s rights,’ written by
Zapotec woman Isabel Altamiro-Jiménez, provided much food for
thought.
Living in the New South Wales region of Newcastle myself, Deidre
Howard-Wagner’s exploration of the relational and practical effects of
neoliberalism within the city of Newcastle was significant in highlighting
‘actually existing neoliberalism’ within my own communities. While
revealing many difficulties with mainstreaming and a one-size-fits-all
approach, Howard-Wagner discusses the ways in which struggles for
autonomy and self-determination among urban Aboriginal organisations
within this region have long been a journey. Progress has been sought
through external partnerships and associations and/or flexible and
innovative entrepreneurial solutions, Indigenous-driven economic
development, external associations, and partnerships.
Collectively, ‘The Neoliberal State, Recognition and Indigenous rights:
New Paternalism to New Imaginings’ brings to the fore a wide range of
examples which demonstrate the ways in which the state, positioned as
the grantor of rights – as well as its privileging of certain forms of
knowledge, legal traditions, cartographic representations, and language –
impacts upon Indigenous people. This impact reaches to First People
community, lands, and resources to the extent that the state manifests its
power by determining not only who qualifies for rights, but how identity
and indigeneity is defined and applied, and how and what is measured in
state policies, goals, and projects of ‘improvement.’
While each empirically-grounded, interpretative micro-study provides a
value of its own, it is as a whole and with the inclusion of the
introduction that this text shines, providing a broadening of the debate
and analysis of contemporary government policy, moving from a broad
 BOOK REVIEW 193

focus on land rights and resource development, to focus on the complex

and specific matters of social policy, disability policy, and more. This is
a distinctive and welcome collection with global value, application and
consideration for various fields.

Amy Thunig is a Gamilaroi woman, and Associate Lecturer, Department

of Educational Studies, Faculty of Human Sciences, Macquarie
University. A PhD Candidate in the School of Education, University of
Newcastle, Amy’s research focuses on the experiences of First Peoples in
education.

[email protected]
EDITORIAL

ABORIGINAL AND TORRES STRAIT

ISLANDER EMPLOYMENT: ISSUES FOR
POLICY, PRACTICE AND RESEARCH

Kirrily Jordan

In more than 50 years of federal public policy relating to Australia’s First

Nations peoples, employment has always been prominent among the
issues taking centre stage. Recent Coalition governments have positioned
it as one of their three major aims in the Indigenous Affairs portfolio:
getting ‘kids into school,’ ‘adults into work’ and improving community
safety. But behind these seemingly simple statements lies an enormous
real-world complexity. Getting more people into work moves well
beyond the supply and demand models of mainstream economics, with
policy approaches hinging on a tangled mix of ideology, contested
evidence and competing ideas. As Liddle’s introduction to this volume
suggests, many of the assumptions that underpin policy decisions remain
informed by colonial narratives. These assumptions require serious and
sustained critique. Key questions include: What counts as ‘work’? Who
decides? Are the challenges relating to First Nations employment best
understood as structural or individual? How can employment policy
move beyond notions of ‘carrots’ and ‘sticks’ and take account of the
enormous locational, historical and aspirational diversity of First Nations
peoples? To what extent should it be self-determined, or cohere with an
Indigenous polity? And should notions of ‘decent’ work come into play?

Jordan, K. (2018)
‘Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Employment:
Issues for Policy, Practice and Research’
Journal of Australian Political Economy
No. 82, pp. 9-36.
Reproduced with permission of copyright owner. Further reproduction
prohibited without permission.