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

The blue room

FictionMum did not tell us that Sabina had tried to kill herself. She said that she was unwell, and because she was unmarried and her children lived interstate Sabina would stay with us while she convalesced. We figured it out after she arrived; she did not appear sick, but lively and plump. Nor was there any regularity to her medical appointments. Though Phoebe was irritated that she would have to share her bathroom we found the situation morbidly glamorous, the sick woman with the elegant name whose stay would end with recovery or its opposite. So many sibilant words: suicide, convalescence, Sabina. Having no knowledge of death or any conviction we would ever die, suicide seemed tinged with romance. That Sabina lived confirmed our belief that death was not serious.

Trash and treasure

FictionIn the middle of the night he had a dream where the dirty pasta bowls he’d left out were on fire, smoking up the apartment. When he shot up in bed, he could still smell the smoke. He remembered Karim, the whole previous day and night flashing through his head. In five strides he was in the living room. Karim wasn’t on the couch. The balcony door was open and he was out there, shirtless, leaning on the balustrade smoking a cigarette. The nodules rising out of his spine pinged the moonlight over his back like a prism. Ben went out, shut the door behind him, leaned over the balcony by Karim. Their arms touched and neither of them pulled away. The forum was emptier than empty. Completely still, like they were peering into a photograph.

Safe as houses

IntroductionSometimes, if I can’t get to sleep, I imagine I’m back in the house where I grew up... I like to go back there in my mind’s eye, conjuring the slightly crooked hallway, the doors that never neatly fit their frames, the tiny kitchen with its overwhelmingly wheaten spectrum of 1980s browns. Like handwriting on old foolscap, the more specific details have long faded with time, but the feeling remains: that ineffable sense of calm and familiarity that I associate with being home.

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