Today’s dispatch is  ‘Leaves’.  Originally dispatched on 5 September  2016

ਚੰਗਾ ਸਵੇਰੇ ਮੇਰੇ ਦੋਸਤ

I once heard a radio interview with Barry Humphries on his return to Australia from his long self-imposed exile. Had he noticed any difference? “Leaves” he replied. He reminisced on his childhood in the leafy suburbs of Melbourne, and how there no longer was the smell of burning leaves.

I was born in occupied Holland. My fully bilingual (Dutch/German) father, committed many acts of resistance both active and passive. One such passive act of defiance was to name me after FDR. In his retirement he had an almost perpetual little fire going in an incinerator in his back yard in leafy Nunawading. I guess his burning of leaves was his version of Amnesty’s flickering candle. I can’t recall his little smoking fire being extinguished on total fire ban days. An act of passive resistance.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5CZBNwMy578  Elton John, Candle in the Wind

When we were in Canada I became aware of Canadians becoming dewy eyed about “The Fall” (Autumn). During an all too brief period the leaves turn into brilliant colours and then fall onto the ground. Back then I regarded this emotional attachment to coloured leaves with ethnocentric derision.
Now, I think there is something poetic about a nation regarding coloured leaves with quasi-religious fervour. No Union Jack for Canadians. No Sir! A maple leaf on their national emblem. An act of passive resistance.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pliihF6gkiI …. Passive Resistance…Graham Parker

Put the demographics away, the directors and consultants have the final say
Hired in, take home all the ones who missed for souvenirs, for their kids to play

Passive resistance! it’s all programmed by programmers
Passive resistance! you’re just a nail underneath their hammers
Passive resistance! and it breaks my heart to know there’s no heart in them

I have started reading Kieran Finnane’s book, “Trouble (On Trial in Central Australia)”

In the Introduction she describes the Alice Springs Courthouse. This from page 2:

“…Lately graffiti has appeared on the footpath in front of the entrance stairs, small letters stencilled in black: ‘This is the front line.’ It says. It’s discreet enough for nobody to bother scrubbing it out. I’d like to know who did it, and what kind of battle they think is going on inside…”

I’m only assuming that this graffiti may well allude to the same as I alluded to when I named these missives Musical Dispatches from the Front, the so called Frontier Wars.

These wars were never declared nor have they ceased, albeit they continue under such euphemistic labels as ‘Closing the Gap’ and ‘Stronger Futures’.

The Aboriginal Land Rights (Northern Territory) Act 1976 was meant to be some sort of ceasefire (“The Invasion stops here’), yet the assimilationist behemoth rolls on.

As Mahatma Ghandi said:

“ They do not know, that a subtle but effective system of terrorism, together with an organized display of force on the one hand, and the deprivation of all powers of retaliation or self-defence on the other, has emasculated the people and induced in them the habit of simulation ….”

In the chapter titled ‘Warlpiri versus the Queen’ Kieran Finnane astutely observed that when it came to ‘cultural matters’, without exception, Warlpiri witnesses refused to ‘play the game’.

Passive resistance in action, no fifth columnists to be seen. Warlpiri solidarity was solid.

As I’m typing this Dispatch, at the Yuendumu Health Clinic opposite, I hear a leaf-blower fire up. This is a punctual ritual which takes place five days a week with quasi religious fervour.

A non-Warlpiri person clears the paths around the clinic of fallen leaves. It isn’t rocket science.

The question arises: “Why isn’t an unemployed Warlpiri person given this task?” I myself ethnocentrically posed the same question.

When Warlpiri people are asked what do they want, they often reply “A job” (…and induced in them the habit of simulation…), which is what the questioner likes to hear.

Yet often when jobs become locally available, the organisation offering the job doesn’t exactly get run over in the rush.

Warlpiri intellectuals realize that self-determination is of far greater importance than menial white-fellow jobs.

As for the leaves at Yuendumu Clinic, the question which should be asked is: ‘Is it imperative that the leaves should be blown off the paths?’

I think I know the answer….

The answer my friend is blowing in the wind…..
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3l4nVByCL44

Franklin Delano Baarda