Site navigation
Human Rights Day
Address 2003
The Hon John
von Doussa QC
President, Human Rights & Equal Opportunity Commission
Wednesday 10
December 2003, Human Rights Medal and Awards, Sheraton on the Park Hotel, Elizabeth
Street, Sydney
Before I begin I would
like to acknowledge the traditional owners of the land on which we are meeting
today, the Gadigal people of the Eora nation.
[Welcome and salutations]
It is a great pleasure
to welcome you to the annual Human Rights Day Medal and Awards, as we celebrate
Human Rights Day.
December 10 marks the day
when, 55 years ago, the United Nations adopted the Universal Declaration of
Human Rights.
Set against the wreckage
and the unthinkable horror of the Second World War, the Declaration was something
of a phoenix rising from the ashes, a document which sought to rekindle a human
dignity which had been gravely debased in the preceding ten years.
I could go on to talk about
the importance of the Declaration as the cornerstone on which a tremendous body
of international human rights law is now based.
But I fear this might miss
a more fundamental point.
Rather, in the short time
I have, I would like to focus on what human rights mean to us today, as individuals
and as a community.
Or, in the words of Eleanor
Roosevelt, a member of the distinguished group who drafted the Universal Declaration,
to look at ‘the small places, close to home’ where human rights
are experienced and become real.
Human rights go to the
core of each and every one of us.
In understanding them,
in knowing them, we begin to uncover answers to our deeper questions.
Who am I? What do I need?
What am I entitled to? And - because we live in community with others - how
do I help my neighbour?
Discourse about human rights
poses an ideal, something we have to go on striving to realise.
Because the simple fact
is that, here in Australia, some people are denied their basic rights –
the core of who they are – every day.
And this at the beginning
of the 21st century.
It is common, though, for
our leaders to say that Australia’s human rights record, while not perfect,
is better than that enjoyed by most other countries.
As if, through a sliding
scale of relativity, we were absolved of our responsibility to do better.
Of course, Australia does
embrace the ideal of human rights – in reality, as well as in our rhetoric.
We can see this in our
respect for the rule of law, the independence of our press and the way we prize
the idea of the ‘fair go’.
We have seen the abolition
of the White Australia policy, the 1967 referendum on Indigenous rights, the
equal pay decisions of the 1970’s and the enactment of anti-discrimination
laws.
These changes may have
taken longer to come than they should have - but they have come. And they have
not caused the sky to fall in. In fact, they have benefited the whole community,
But to deny our failings,
to try and cover them over, is to deny the qualities that lead to justice.
By turning a blind eye
or retreating into easy prejudice, we fail to show respect and fairness to those
who need it most.
Cast your mind back over
the past year or so.
Think of the ‘Pacific
Solution’ and the community backlash against ‘illegal’ asylum
seekers, which has been fanned by divisive voices for cynical ends.
Our response stands in
stark contrast to our nation’s promise to the world made in the Refugees’
Convention to provide a safe haven to those seeking asylum.
More fundamentally, it
perverts the basic, decent human response to extend protection to those fleeing
persecution, to those who have witnessed and experienced atrocities we can scarcely
imagine.
Think of September 11 and
the Bali bombings, tragic events which left us grappling with a maelstrom of
emotions - horror, grief, confusion and anger. And yet how quickly were these
emotions translated into fear and mistrust.
Since then, Arabic and
Islamic people have felt a rising wave of prejudice, discrimination and vilification.
Muslim women who wear the hijab have been targets for abuse. Mosques have been
vandalised.
And all this driven by
the fear of difference and a need to find ‘someone’ – someone
‘different’ – to blame.
In the last year the Australian
Parliament debated and eventually passed federal laws against crimes of ‘terrorism’.
As you would all be well aware, the ASIO Bill was also the subject of intense
scrutiny and debate.
Indeed the Joint Parliamentary
Committee which examined the Bill in its original form was of the view that
it ‘would undermine key legal rights and erode the civil liberties that
make Australia a leading democracy.’
The overall effect of these
laws is to allow long-standing rights to be wound back.
And then, hidden amidst
the noisy public debate that surrounds these issues, the ‘people’s
movement’ for reconciliation with Indigenous Australians has slowly, silently
ground to a halt.
What began as an attempt
to reduce the fear of difference and to open an honest conversation between
black and white Australians has now descended into a slanging match about statistics,
funding and administration.
All the while, indicators
of Indigenous disadvantage continue to reveal the misery of poor health, economic
disadvantage and unacceptably low life expectancies. We should be horrified,
stirred to action.
But many Australians simply
shrug their shoulders and turn their backs. Not so much in apathy, as dismay,
overwhelmed by the enormity of this seemingly insoluble crisis.
What then? Does it seem
to you that the path to equality in Australia is fast becoming the road less
travelled?
This is why we need at
times to stop, take stock and reset our moral compass. We need to clearly grasp
the notion that true equality is still far off.
And the way forward?
We need to speak out in
defence of basic rights.
We need to insist on the
fundamental role of the courts to scrutinise matters – because a democratic
state can not comprise this foundational principle without, in some way, compromising
itself.
Furthermore, and I would
say especially right now, we need to develop a culture of dialogue, tolerance
and understanding.
We need to be advocates
for equality and reconciliation.
In times such as these,
we must all see education as a priority. It certainly is for the Human Rights
and Equal Opportunity Commission. Our goal is to help people to understand their
rights as well as their obligation to respect the rights of others.
To understand that the
assertion of rights is not an attempt to take something away from those that
‘have’, but rather, it is a way to extend to those who ‘have
not’ something that is theirs. And that this will benefit the whole community.
How are we trying to do
this at the Commission?
We have just completed
a very extensive series of consultations with Australians who have an Arabic
and Muslim background. Called ‘Isma’ – which is Arabic for
‘listen’ - this forum gave us a chance to understand how they have
experienced religious and racial discrimination in recent times – and
to listen to what strategies they believe would help combat harassment and vilification.
Foremost amongst useful
strategies these groups have developed have been open days and information sessions
conducted to explain their cultures and beliefs to the wider community.
We also run Youth Challenge
programs in high schools around the country, providing students with practical
ways to help them understand their rights and to counter myths and stereotypes,
which are often at the heart of discrimination and harassment.
Today, I’m pleased
to launch another module in our Youth Challenge program. The Bringing them
home module helps students explore one of the most tragic episodes in Australian
history – the forcible removal of Indigenous children from their families.
The module looks at the
findings and the recommendations of the Commission’s National Inquiry,
and what has happened since the report was tabled in 1997. It also looks at
the effects of separation on individuals, families and communities.
Clearly linked to each
state and territory’s curricula it is a comprehensive – yet highly
accessible – resource that can be used with junior and secondary classes.
Let me be clear - the aim
of the Bringing them home resource is not to present a singular and
uncritical approach to understanding Australia’s past.
Rather, we understand how
important it is for young people to have reliable information and resources,
to be able to ask questions, analyse, debate and, finally, draw their own conclusions.
This is the real stuff
of education.
Please take the time to
browse the material, either on the computers provided here today or on the CD
in your kit - we would welcome your comments.
Like the Bringing them
home education resource, it is vital that we take advantage of all the
opportunities at our disposal to provide simple, clear information that will
the counter the voices of fear and division in our community.
I would urge you all to
do the same.
As I said before, discourse
about human rights poses an ideal. And what we need as we strive towards that
ideal is for people of good conscience to continue to speak out about the things
they value and believe.
We need to forego the easy,
talkback monologue of recent times and start up a genuine, inclusive dialogue
about the things that we care deeply about – equality, justice and the
recognition of rights.
We need to begin the conversation
in our neighbourhoods, in our schools, in our media and in our parliaments.
And we need to question,
question relentlessly.
In so doing, we become
engaged in creating an Australian society of which we can be truly proud. One
that recognises its strengths at the same time that it seeks to redress its
failures.
And never underestimate
the transformative role that you play – no matter how large or how small
it may seem to you.
Because, as John Stuart
Mill once said: ‘One person with a belief is a social power equal to ninety-nine
who have only interests.’
Thank you.
Last updated26 August 2004Last
updated 26 August 2004.