Home as a weapon of cultural destruction

The politics of dispossession

Featured in

  • Published 20250204
  • ISBN: 978-1-923213-04-3
  • Extent: 196 pp
  • Paperback, ebook. PDF

IT WILL PROBABLY be considered controversial of me to contend that within this nation’s Aboriginal history, home has been wielded by successive Australian governments as a weapon of cultural destruction. I am an Aboriginal historian, and as I sat down to write about the idea of ‘home’ from the perspective of Aboriginal people in history, I felt anger rising in me as I bitterly muttered, ‘What bloody home?’

This response comes from the hindsight I’ve gained over years of intense research into the lives of my ancestors and other Aboriginal people in Australian history. Time and time again, the government has weaponised home as a means of maintaining power over Aboriginal people. In fact, I would argue that there was malicious intent underlying these government policies and dealings. Along with other weapons in their arsenal, such as dispossession, land theft, displacement, segregation, stolen children and assimilation, governments used home as an inconspicuous yet pervasive weapon in their attempts to annihilate Aboriginal culture.

Already a subscriber? Sign in here

If you are an educator or student wishing to access content for study purposes please contact us at griffithreview@griffith.edu.au

Share article

More from author

At that time in history

EssayYVONNE DE CARLO was a Canadian-born, American movie actor. The famous beauty was at the height of her film career in the 1940s and...

More from this edition

Bellend

Poetry ‘Nice little bell, buddy,’ snipes some guy holding  space in the bike lane as I nearly swipe him  on my way to the shops. Low and...

Load

FictionWhen I wake up from being a dishwasher, curled on the floor of my apartment, it’s like I have woken from the perfect slumber. I don’t think I have felt like this since the womb. Imagine being able to temporarily kill yourself. The world, the body, weighs heavy. Being a dishwasher is the closest I have ever felt to bliss. Before this, the closest I got to bliss, true bliss, was getting high with my dad and eating a cream corn and cheddar toastie at the Murchison Tea Rooms.

The pool

Fiction I CATCH THE school bus home most days, kids kangarooing from seat to seat. Hard for a little bloke like me to get a...

Stay up to date with the latest, news, articles and special offers from Griffith Review.