The Ghost of the Billabong Speaks: The Voice of Invisible Australian Cultural Narrative

By Dr. Farvardin Daliri

In 1984, Dr Farvardin Daliri, OAM, chose Australia as a place of refuge for his small family, offering social justice, equality, human rights and democracy. This book is his reflection on four decades working for social cohesion, multiculturalism and reconciliation, mostly in regional Australia. It's also the story of Townsville's long-running Cultural Fest, an annual celebration of unity in diversity.

Dr Daliri argues it's time to recognise Australia's inherently inclusive culture, the true Australian Cultural Narrative which is often suppressed by the media and in political and educational sectors. He believes this generous, grassroots' ethos is embodied in the call. "You'll come a-waltzing Matilda, with me" in Banjo Paterson's famous song.

The Ghost of the Billabong, he argues, has a unifying and healing message for all who have made Australia home. In his opinion, the current model of multiculturalism, with its related policies from both sides of politics, has no commitment to reuniting and reconciling all Australians. Instead, solvable differences had been let fester to divisions. He identifies what's missing within today's multiculturalism discourse and policies and offers a fresh, unifying and common ground for all to share.

In doing so, he acknowledges his insights are likely to be controversial. But he feels compelled to share his thoughts and experiences. He writes, "I love this country and will not stand by and watch the social ills I left behind when I ran away as a refugee emerge like mushrooms around my neighbourhood. Writing this book is the least that I can do."

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Jul 12, 2016
• ISBN: 9781925515978

Book preview

Introduction

In the last line of Australia’s most famous song, the swagman’s ghost cries, You’ll come a-waltzing Matilda, with me. I first heard that call 30 years ago when this generous nation welcomed me as a refugee. And my title, The Ghost of the Billabong Speaks, stems from my belief that core values of Australian culture have, unfortunately, become almost invisible since then. For me, being Australian is grounded in freedom, egalitarianism, inclusivity and unity within diversity. It is a way of life based on principles of coexistence and mutual support — expressed in readiness to lend a helping hand. For example, Brendan Farrell’s Burrumbuttock Hay Runners initiative has since 2014 provided drought-stricken Queensland graziers with 20,000 free bales of hay. His reaching out to distressed farming communities — the salt and soul of Australia — is in the cultural DNA of this land. So too is ongoing advocacy for domestic violence survivors by 2015 Australian of the Year Rosie Batty and the everyday kindness of mainstream Australians who visit strangers in refugee detention centres. My book holds a mirror up to modern Australia to show Aussie Culture as it really is.

Our modern history is loaded with wonderful social and cultural products of what I call the Australian Cultural Narrative. Our culture is infused with egalitarian aspirations and the ideal of a fair go for all. It is imprinted with the Swagman’s joyful dancing with Matilda, erected on the bedrock of the Ned Kelly’s plea for social and economic justice, drenched in the blood, sweat and tears of its original inhabitants, the Aboriginal people, and crowned with progressive values of gender equality and social justice. You can trace this grassroots story from the Aboriginal Dreamtime Stories to first convicts and settlers in 1788, on through their descendants and millions more migrants and refugees. The swagman could be any worker — South Sea Islander, Italian migrant or First Nation People. Australians have turned Britain’s colony of banishment into the land of opportunities, enriched by moral codes of equality, inclusivity, oneness and teamwork — regardless of cultural background.

But today, this story is overshadowed by a neo-colonialist version of modern Australia under the banner of capitalism and international corporatism. I call this the British Colonial Narrative, the voice that harks back to Britain establishing a penal colony filled with exiled criminals, setting in motion two centuries of colonisation of the Australian land mass. This story has no Indigenous voices and in fact attempts to render the existence of the First Nation people invisible to the world. The theme of this set of stories, mindsets, objectives and reasonings is to divide and conquer, illustrated, for instance in the media’s insistence on highlighting boundaries between migrant, ethnic and Indigenous communities.

I have recognised conflicting understandings of being Australian throughout my personal and professional life in this nation, in particular while establishing the Townsville Cultural Fest and running it for 28 years. Today, there are two other widely shared patterns of thinking at odds with the unifying voice of the Ghost of the Billabong. Australia’s Indigenous Narrative is a story of subjugation and dispossession of Indigenous Australians, stereotyped as a doomed race and invisible in the imperial saga. The present-day Australian Multicultural Narrative blames mainstream Australia for inequality and discrimination based on race and colour and pleads redress for these grievances.

From the outset, the Townsville Cultural Fest has embodied Unity through Diversity. It has annually brought together as many as 50,000 people from all over Australia from 250 to 300 intercultural groups — ethnic, religious, sporting, artistic, school and performers’ communities. But the journey hasn’t been easy. I will share my encounters with Australia’s conflicting narratives — their touchpoints and accompanying challenges and blessings. Overall, my book reveals the unifying voice of the Ghost of the Billabong — the Australian Cultural Narrative. The people of Townsville and Australia need to know this story. And for all those who have been involved in this festival and its challenges, their story deserves to be told.

I write at the risk of being labelled a racist myself — me, a former refugee to this land of opportunity. My lifetime commitment to multiculturalism and reconciliation and my lengthy record of community service and direct personal support to many Indigenous communities as well as thousands of newly arrived refugees is public knowledge. Many will be surprised at me challenging current multicultural practices. But I feel compelled to share my thoughts and experiences. I love this country and will not stand by and watch the social ills I left behind when I ran away as a refugee emerge like mushrooms around my neighbourhood. Writing this book is the least that I can do.

After 40 years of dedicated work towards social cohesion, multiculturalism and reconciliation in Australia, I have come to realise that, regardless of our cultural orientation, we cannot go on forever as a divided community. The current style of multiculturalism, with its related policies from both sides of politics, does not have any commitment to reuniting and reconciling all Australians. Solvable differences have been let fester to divisions. This book attempts to address what is missing within today’s multiculturalism discourse and policies and offers a fresh, unifying and common ground for all to share and be proud of. My experience as a former refugee and New Australian is that where there is Australia, there is multiculturalism and reconciliation. Our culture is inherently inclusive. My personal story of migration and settlement in regional Australia is one of having been touched with gratitude by grassroots’ multiculturalism.

Millions of immigrants and refugees, like my family, have come to Australia for the social justice, equality, human rights and democracy that are on offer. Most have experienced this ethos. These values, I have discovered, are at the core of the Australian Narrative but are being suppressed by the media and in political and educational sectors. And often, to the contrary, we hear complaints about racism and inequality from certain sectors and we are led to believe many Australians do not accept multiculturalism. What is not talked about enough is that Australian Culture is about inclusion, a fair go, equal rights and acceptance regardless of culture and race for all living here, which is at the core of a healthy multiculturalism model.

The Australian Cultural Narrative is constantly undermined in media depictions of our nation as a British backyard, reinforcing the Colonial British Narrative. As a result, many Australians do not perceive their independent cultural identity. This confusion has led both the Indigenous Australian and migrant communities to miss the point and equate the Colonial British Narrative with the Australian Cultural Narrative. My analysis is bound to raise questions about the history of Australia’s colonisation and the subjugation, displacement, genocide, suppression of Indigenous people. Without a shadow of doubt, the voice of Indigenous Australians must be recognised and respected —their calls for justice and recognition of their historical perspective, modification of the Constitution and their land ownership struggle. Indigenous peoples suffered enormously during British colonisation and were indeed often brutally displaced, killed, imprisoned and deprived of basic human rights. The point I am making here, however, is a different one. Much of the Indigenous Narrative is based on an identity of being oppressed and displaced in their own country through the racism of Australians, but in fact the invaders were British colonists full of the follies of their empire. The often-untold story is that the exiled convicts who were brought to Australia by the same Colonial British suffered as well. Many died as slaves and suffered as labourers, often brutally killed by soldiers when they challenged their authority. Therefore, the discourse of racism directed toward Australians is by and large misdirected.

When I chose Australia as a place of refuge for my small family, I admired it as a safe nation with one of the best records for peacekeeping and commitment to social justice — all that I was deprived of in Iran. It was after being involved in setting up and staging the Townsville Cultural Fest that I realised how complicated the Australian cultural identity is and how much pain and shame surrounds the topic. Through this experience, I gradually arrived at my vision of Australian Culture and discovered its inherent invisibility. I found through lived experience there was no capacity in individual cultural values, religious practices or ethnic groups to enhance Australian community cohesion and bring about unity in diversity. Rather, I decided the only chance for unity and harmony was in upholding and celebrating the core Australian Cultural Narrative and values. In contrast, British and corporate interests are best served through a divide-and- conquer mindset; Indigenous people have strict racial boundaries between various tribes and families; ethnic groups are more interested in their own group identity issues and challenges and religious groups have unsurpassable boundaries beyond which they don’t encourage their members to dwell.

The story of the Jolly Swagman, and the invisibility of his ghost, resembles the situation in which many decent Australians find themselves. I was inspired by the Ghost of the Billabong through my own spiritual experiences when facing the challenges of the Townsville Cultural Fest. The Australian Cultural Narrative is indeed an invisible reality, like the Ghost of the Billabong. This book, like the Townsville Cultural Fest, is dedicated to bringing the Ghost to light and showing it to Australia, not as the spirit of a thief, but rather as a unique and mystical cultural icon that speaks for social justice and equity for all Australians. Let’s celebrate Australia for the opportunities and safe home that she provides to all of us. This is what I have tried to achieve during decades of staging the Townsville Cultural Fest with the theme of Unity in Diversity. I hope we can carry on this beautiful Townsville tradition forever. I invite everyone, from every perspective, regardless of his or her politics, cultural orientation and ideology, to understand, appreciate and support the Australian Cultural Narrative. It has a unique capacity to include, respect, sustain and engage all other narratives in a strong, independent and unified nation.

The core of my message is that the Ghost of the Billabong — the spirit of the Australian Culture — wants us to know that only the recognition of a unifying and culturally inclusive narrative has the promise of a strong, independent and unified Australia. Read on and hear the story of the Townsville Cultural Fest which, for 28 years, has proven that the inclusive, fair-go culture of Australia is alive and well and working in the favour of all who accept this land as theirs and embrace our core values.

Prologue

When Lida and I decided to leave Melbourne in 1989 and raise our family in Townsville, you should have heard the responses. That backward and racist city? You’ll be wasting yourself there, Farvardin. You belong in Melbourne, the city of multiculturalism. But I disagreed. I believed they had it wrong in Melbourne. I wanted to be part of something new in Townsville and get it right with multiculturalism up there — a true, united, harmonious and living multiculturalism, not Melbourne’s disconnected pockets of individual cultures. My opponents fumed, But that is assimilation work — that is dirty! You don’t want to make everyone the same. I replied that sharing, trusting, celebrating and being united did not eliminate differences. It simply allowed differences to shine positively, without fear and boundaries. In my experience, true multiculturalism is only possible in Australia — with democracy, freedom of individuals and respect for human rights. In contrast, in the world beyond — full of competing cultures and religions — there was no community cohesion nor inclusive parties. I reckoned that unless we celebrated the Australian cultural framework and underpinning values, there was no guarantee multiculturalism would lead to prosperity and community cohesion in Australia. I left Melbourne believing that in Townsville I could contribute to cultural harmony and social cohesion in the true spirit of Australian multiculturalism. I farewelled the doubters with, You can stay here in the safety of your segregated cultural groups and suburbs and miss out on what Australia has to offer.

1

Heading North to Townsville

It was a long journey to Townsville in 1989: Four weeks in a Falcon station wagon with three toddlers, towing an unreliable, second-hand trailer. My wife Lida and I left behind all friends and relatives in Melbourne and drove off to the sunny north with our children Erfan 5, Sepeedeh 3 and Rafaan 2. Why? It’s a long story.

I believe life is about serving humanity with love and dedication. For me, that means promoting harmony, cohesion and unity across the diverse and conflicting mix of humanity. My vision is very simple: the human body is made up of billions of different living cells, all performing different functions, yet the survival of a human being depends on cooperation, unity and cohesion of the entire body of cells. Likewise, ecological sustainability, dealing with mental health issues, education and health, peace and economic sustainability — one and all depend on global cooperation and the unity of humankind. When we end wars and conflicts and join hands like the cells of a living body, we will deal effectively with every human and ecological problem, directing our treasures to education, alternative energy sources, nutrition, sports, art, scientific research and cosmological explorations. With this realisation, I had dedicated my life to the cause of unity building. I knew Melbourne was too large and busy to hear and respond to a new perspective, so I had to find a relatively smaller place where I could be part of the community. Basically, I was going to Townsville to serve people and live and encourage these ideals.

Why Townsville? It was simply the furthest place from Melbourne with a university and close ties with the original inhabitants of the land. It seemed relatively small yet had a diverse community and wide range of cultures, histories and epistemologies. In the settlement era, North Queensland had rich connections with Indigenous communities and migrants from places such as India, China and the entire Pacific region. Townsville, now an army base, farming centre and mining gateway, had evolved socially, economically, culturally and strategically into a vibrant and interesting centre. Of course, it had its issues too. I was aware of media reports about racism, gay bashing, Indigenous land legislation protests and human rights activism. But I had great hopes.

We travelled north through coastal towns, the last of them Mackay. Everything we owned was in the trailer. I was 35. I had never rested in my life, never wasted any time and was always busy with anything meaningful and useful for humanity. Luckily, Lida had a similar vision and accepted my lifestyle and our journey. We had moved like gypsies from country to country and town to town. And here we were, moving to another new place. We were certainly getting sick and tired of the road on that long trip. Then, as we passed Alligator Creek, we saw Townsville on the horizon. It felt like the beginning of a new act in the drama of my life, as if this city could be the backdrop for my most creative scenes. As I drove, Lida and I said to each other: Here we are. Another place, a new community to live in and contribute to. It was a late afternoon in September 1989, spring in theory but quite hot after years of living in Tasmania, Geelong and Melbourne. The city was parched in keeping with its famous nickname, Brownsville. We had nowhere to go, so we drove around Castle Hill until we reached the mall and the beach. My bankcard was almost empty of credit and we didn’t have much cash left. Dinner was fish and chips from a shop near Victoria Bridge. I was wondering where to go and becoming a bit concerned. Then I remembered I had a phone number for a certain person originally from my home country. We had spoken while in Melbourne and he had offered his hospitality. So I called him from a public phone, got his address and before nightfall found his house. They were a friendly family with a small business and happy to have us as guests. So, our first night in Townsville was sorted. We had a nice meal with great company. After such a long journey, our fortuitous welcome came as a relief and a sign our decision to move to North Queensland was a positive one.

New life in Townsville

The next day my active life in Townsville began as I started looking for a place to rent and a job. I needed to get together the bond money and find a school and preschool for the children. Soon we found a nice unit in Pope Street in Aitkenvale. I was also able to attract a few jobs painting murals and signwriting around town to keep our fridge full. Everything else was falling into place. It wasn’t long before I was offered a job at James Cook University as a research assistant. The wheel of our family life was spinning full throttle. Being new in town, I was busy with my personal life and, for a change, not ready to get involved in the community. Being responsible for a young family with three young kids was handful enough, but I also had a PhD thesis to complete and was running a restaurant from afternoon until late in addition to my university position. We had bought the Taste of India, then the only Indian restaurant in town. Lida shared a great chunk of the responsibility. It was an evening business, running from 5pm to 10pm.

Soon I was able to borrow money from the bank and buy my first Australian dream home in the