I don’t know where I got the short article from, maybe someone sent it to me with no author’s name on it. It doesn’t really matter, except I don’t want you to think that I wrote it. The Sufi poet the author quotes is, I consider, to be one of the wisest men who ever lived. When I was in Damascus, Syria, I met a local who took me to his tomb. I had to pretend that I was a Moslem to enter the holy place but that wasn’t difficult because of my “Middle Eastern” appearance. My guide just told me not to open my mouth and speak because my English or Greek would give me away. I crouched to enter the small entrance to Ibn Arabi’s tomb and when I came close I felt compelled to fall on my knees and bend my head in respect to him. The tomb, in 2000 was in a silver gilded cage (since then the tomb is within a glass cage) and I felt that this was so incongruous given the free spirit that made Ibn Arabi…well, Ibn Arabi (July 28, 1165 – November 10, 1240).
Anyway, enjoy the following article as it outlines the Sufi experience for our times ……
We are the laboratory where chemical transformations occur. As we work in an alchemical manner we are networking our total functional behaviour with a larger one making it a possibility to influence even blades of grass and the clouds above. One demonstration of this possibility is when a drought is ended by a shamanic rain dance. In a very real way we perceive the world inside out. The so called “outer” world, the world of the senses is really the inner world – like a cave. The cave exists in a mountain or under the ground. The world of cars, trees, sun and planets, the world of telecommunications and the nervous system, the world of spices and jasmine flowers, cooking oil and garlic – the worlds of our senses are resident in this cave.
The temporal mode, our existential situation, this cubic measure of time-space, our cave is within a big mountain – Mount Analogue. Or one can liken the place of the inner to the outer as a cube within a cube, a sphere within a sphere, a doll within a doll, human within Anthropos. The larger is the external and the smaller is the internal. Our being is embedded within a bigger being. The crossroads, the twilight of nervous excitation, the synaptic gap, the pause in the cycle of breath are all cracks between the worlds. Along these lightning cracks, Earth is imagining her self aiding the quickening of the transformative next stage in her evolution. Do we work with her or against her, do our steps resonate with Earth’s purpose? These questions are not metaphysical ones, they are very physical. Do our physical actions accord with the larger destiny open to all of us in human form? Are we aware of our breath, and the sensation of the breeze on our face, are we aware of the other and in some act of heart can be the other so that compassion replaces fear and alienation? If we move inwardly and see the much bigger world that is perpendicular to this one, not in outer space but within, we may be able to participate in a bigger life. This life is invisible in 3 D world, its results may extemporise into the visible realm or remain alive invisibly present.
Rimbaud: “I dreamed of crusades, senseless voyages of discovery, republics without a history, moral revolution, displacement of races and continents: I believed in all the magics.”
A few months ago I was stuck like a shipwreck on my bed in my living room. I was stuck there, 24/7 for two months. I was there because of an accidental fall at work. I broke my leg and tore a cartilage in my hand. This means that I wasn’t able to use crutches to get around and when I visited the doctor and the physiotherapist I used a wheel chair. So, my “senseless voyages of discovery” had become mundane wheelies on a chair. I was not down and in fact time seemed to buzz by quicker than ever. Yes, alone on a bed, stuck in one place for two months and all seemed well. Of course, being shipwrecked with a beautiful, caring wife helps a lot. I couldn’t ask for more in a woman who shares my life. Jane is totally giving, loving, warm and has a natural joyousness which lightens my life – even while I was stuck there.
So much for my body. Yep, it was immobile but my mind wasn’t. I began doing some amazing time travelling while I was in this space. Time travelling? Let me explain. I was surfing the net and buying music from eBay. I found a seller who offloads very cheaply, CD’s without covers and art work. More often than not they are CD’s of LP’s I already own but because vinyl is so 20th Century and I couldn’t be bothered trying to find a new needle so that I can play them on my turntable, getting “Exile on Main Street ” by the Rolling Stones on CD for 50 cents is fantastic. I bought some music I
haven’t heard for decades which I could listen to.
Each time I listened to these songs, reminiscences flowed unchecked – memories, dreams, faces, body entanglements, old acid trips and dope hazed twilights, smiles and tears, hellos and goodbyes…all streamed by as the music played. Each favourite song became a lane, a street, sometimes a highway to the past. I listened and watched the thoughts that arose and watching the thoughts, sometimes I felt. Felt what? It didn’t really matter, a feeling arose, then a smile bent its way across my face or a tear traced its way down my cheek. Old friends appeared and then I wondered, “Where are they now? Are they still alive? Are they happy?” Old lovers appeared and I remembered our embraces and promises we made to each other. My heart broke and then healed with another song. I loved all. I love all.
Time travelling with my ears.
Below are lyrics of a song I wrote about remembering a long lost lover:
Do You Remember?
Do you remember the time,
our paths first crossed the line?
Composing phone numbers
on the palms of our hands.
Do you remember the hour,
when we first made the vow?
During reason’s truancy, without sorcery.
The gypsy keeper’s hand of fate
undid the knot of empty space.
A circle and a sphere can’t trace
the shape of a falling tear.
The comfort and the fear can’t chase
the cape of another year.
Do you remember?
Do you remember the moment
rumour’s arrow pierced your intent?
Through the line between your eyes
a flame kindles your alibis.
It burns through precious flesh and bone,
the memories you wish to disown, by and by.
We sacked the empires of illusion
to save the key to eternal union.
A circle and a sphere can’t trace
the shape of a falling tear.
The comfort and the fear can’t chase
the cape of another year.
Do you remember . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . me?
This comes from an email newsletter I published between 2001 and 2004 called Imaginepeace Update. The newsletter was born due to the frustration and anger I felt towards the conservative Howard Government of Australia which was demonising asylum seekers and refugees. The climax came for me when John Howard, the Prime Minister, told the Australian people that the asylum seekers were throwing children overboard and the whole shameful Tampa boat incident. Just click on the links to get the historical picture.
Just after I started sending out the Imaginepeace Updates I heard from a friend that some people were organising to go to Woomera to support those behind the razor wire. I then organised a group of people in the Hunter region of NSW to go at Easter, 2002.
This was a social experiment as well because it was one of the first Actions in the world which was organised by using the Internet.
The Woomera Action to support the innocent refugees caged behind the razor wire in the desert was one of the world’s first social action protest to use the incredible organising facility of the Internet. Way back in 2002 when we were preparing the desert action the authorities did not think it was possible to organise a national protest action in the inhospitable Australian desert. The concept of a flat, non hierarchical matrix with networks which had no “leader”, no Central Control Commission (CCC) was a foreign concept to them. Ideas like “clusters” and “affinity groups” born in action by anarchists in the Spanish Civil War, yes the one that George Orwell went to fight in, were also foreign and did not compute in their strategic mindset. These early 20th Century ideas translated into the 21st Century Internet have proved incredibly powerful in the struggle by grass roots groups against authoritarianism.
The government thought the whole idea was crazy and doomed to failure. It is because they didn’t know the possibilities of organising using this new technology that the Woomera Action was so successful. Successful? Apart from the breakout of the refugees, the Woomera Detention Camp was closed down soon after the Action.
I believe that because the Festival of Freedoms was organised by the net, we took the authorities by surprise and this is why they weren’t prepared for us. The government did not think it was possible to organise a protest action out in the inhospitable desert. It had not factored in the logistical and organising matrix of the world wide web. Indeed, the concept of affinity groups and decentralised organic action with no centralised leaders also derailed their expectations. Another term for the organising principle we used is Segmented Polycentric Integrated Networks (SPINs). It was this experience which made the Flotillas of Hope Action to Nauru possible.
The Woomera2002 “logo”. The circles represent affinity groups, joined to the Spokes Council.
I remember talking with journalists, who just didn’t get it. They kept saying, “Take us to your Leader”. They didn’t comprehend a leaderless organising principle using a non – hierarchical web to facilitate Action. I kept humming to myself the song by Bob Dylan, “Ballad of a Thin Man” with its chorus “Something is going on and you don’t know what it is, do you Mr Jones?” whenever a journalist would try to work out who was the leader. We obviously had the “Megaphones” who were trying to take away the anarchic spirit manifesting in the moment and to channel it into a “Socialist” box, but the Action and the Freedom energy was too big for the “Megaphones” to control.
The events at Woomera Concentration Camp, Easter, 2002 where refugees escaped and we looked after the escapees in our tents meant that those present had to look deep into their conscience and act from their hearts. The Howard government threatened to put us all in gaol for 25 years and labelled us “terrorists”. Woomera was closed down soon after the Woomera Festival of Freedoms Action. I am proud of being there.
Anyway, go back in time and read an email I wrote in 2002.
stavros
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hard copy flyer for the Festival of Freedoms. Very few of these were made because the Action was web based. Flyer displayed in sections here and below.
This is the original Woomera 2002 “logo” for the website which helped create the Festival of Freedoms Action. The Flotillas of Hope, 2004 can be seen as a child of Woomera 2002.
Good Friday at Woomera, 2002
Only now do I feel that I can write my account of what happened on Good Friday at Woomera. The last couple of weeks I’ve been in another mental and emotional state. It is only now that I can see it was due to the life transforming events at the razor wire of the Woomera Concentration Camp.
I and ten others from Newcastle and Sydney travelled together on the HOPE Caravan. The HOPE Caravaners – Jane, Ruth, Norman, Sabrina, Dave, Ross, Melanie, Margaret, Paul, Elizabeth and myself set off from Newcastle to go to Woomera at Easter. Woomera is a desert town in South Australia about 500 kms north west from Adelaide. It is a town in a huge, what the Times Atlas calls, Military Prohibited Area which covers about 200,000 square kilometers. Woomera is also near Maralinga, the only place in Australia which has had a nuclear bomb drop on it, wounding our country and releasing radiation which has killed many Aboriginal people and others.
Free the refugees!
Woomera is the place where Australia houses one of six concentration camps for innocent asylum seekers. Woomera,Curtin and Port Hedland because of their isolation can also be seen as gulags. So, the smiling hospitable face of Australia, with its beautiful fireworks and eternity on the Sydney Harbour Bridge during the Olympic Games, 2000 now in 2002, has razor wire braces with tear gas and capsicum spray replacing the fireworks. Eternity is now a leaking boat carrying desperate people seeking asylum…which we, as a country deter and deny. The open harbour is now a gulag in some inhospitable desert. Is this Australia? Which face is ours? Was the smiling, welcoming face shown to over 2 billion people across the globe during the Olympics just a public relations act? Whatever it was, our Prime Minister ensured that his smiling face would like wall paper blend into the Big Olympic Welcome Smile. In two years the self image of Australia and the image seen across the globe have undergone a transformation, like watching a movie – Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde – Dorian Gray and Time, where the prince is now a toad – transformation in reverse.
A local Broken Hill newspaper article about us “spreading the word” as to why we were going to Woomera. The night at the pub was an amzing experience of open discussion and almost fist fighting then concluding with hugs. Talking beats fighting ALWAYS!
Funny thing happened along the way with our name. Hunter Organisation for Peace and Equity took on new skin and became Hunter Organism for Peace and Equity. The transformation from an organisation to an organism became complete when we arrived at Woomera on Good Friday. There we saw and felt what it was like to be part of a living Organism. An organisation is too structured, it smells of committees and hierarchy, in fact, in the context of HOPE it can be nuanced as corporate. The cry of FREEDOM from the detainees at Woomera Concentration Camp, resonated with our empathic and sympathetic cry of FREEDOM on the other side of the razor wire. We cried with them as they cried with us – real tears, wet ones. The detainees freed themselves – we have footage to show this and will be available on the new hopecaravan website. We freed ourselves by our presence, actions and awareness. Whether it was a balls up by ACM and the State to allow the detainees to escape or whether it was a miracle, the fact is detainees now know that there are people, Australians, that care and don’t want innocent asylum seekers caged like animals.
Sign on our bus, on the way to Woomera.
The living reality of travelling together for days to participate in a festival of freedoms precluded an “organisation” but allowed the living practice of inclusion and a trust that whatever a member did or said as part of HOPE Caravan was speaking and acting on all of our behalfs. One for all and all for one! HOPE has many tongues, arms, legs, hearts and minds. I saw that we, ordinary people, together with a common intent can achieve wonders without hierarchy, without leaders. Working from a matrix of networks whose diversity reflects the diversity within each affinity group achieved more than we dreamed was possible.
Broken Hill supporters made kites to fly when we passed through their town.
The combined presence by all woomera2002 activists gave hope to those without papers behind the razor wire.
The first razor wire fence to fall on the way to supporting the refugees.
Two members of HOPE Caravan, are maintaining a presence at Woomera having established the Woomera Refugee Embassy. By their presence the detainees have some hope and a clearing house for their voices. Other members of HOPE will be visiting the Refugee Embassy at Woomera. If you are interested in visiting and supporting HOPE’s efforts in Woomera become a member of the hopecaravan email group hopecaravan-subscribe@yahoogroups.com and visit http://groups.yahoo.com/group/hopecaravan/
A hand painted message by local Newcastle people to the refugees.
Perhaps Woomera2002 at Easter will only be a short footnote in some Australian history text book in the years to come. Perhaps it won’t be recorded at all in any official version of history. As we all know, footnotes don’t tell the whole story. And, “History” as catalogued in the State’s book shelf has great need of revision to include herstory and ourstory to reflect the diversity of time bodies and experiences of all Australians….better still as Earthlings. One Earth under One Sky.
Stavros
One of several tennis balls we wrote AZADI – (FREEDOM in Farsi) on them and threw them to the refugees.
imaginepeace update April 2, 2002
hi everyone,
some desert dust must have gone into my laptop so the shift key don’t work. spoke to dave last night just after returning to morpeth. He told me everything he said on the email. so, yes dave and ross obviously have all our support. we must now consider ongoing support for both re money etc. julian burnside qc will be defending the arrested ones in may along with dave…this is great news.
yesterday i had an interview with sbs world news and this morning i’m waiting on a call from darwin abc. sbs was particularly interested in the stories about the viloent protest. i made it very clear that the whole event was peaceful and that none of us expected the detainees to escape. they wanted info on our weapons….weapons indeed…all we had were our sympathetic hearts, open arms to receive the freed ones. the only rock thrown was one by our fellow hope memebr, paul, who wrapped a 50 dollar note around it and a detainee caught it like a good cricketer.
———————————
i just finished the interview with darwin abc and the reporter said that it will more than likely be broadcast nationally on abc radio, probably lunch time today. all journos are interested in the so called violence and planned actions to free the detainees. i have made it clear to everyone who has spoken with me that there were no weapons, that we did not plan to liberate the detainees ..that we were thrilled with the outcome, that the freed detainees came to the woomera2002 camp where we gave support and hid them from the authorities, that as far as i knew thru telephone contact that the detainees freed had in some way been spirited away from woomera were safe and being looked after by fellow protesters, that i don’t know where they are, that yes, we realise that to support escaped detainees carries a jail sentence, that as far as i am concerned the detainees should be free because they are innocent asylum seekers who should never be incarcerated in a concentration camp, that the concentration camps are illegal from a global human rights perspective, that as far as i know, no escapees went wandering into the desert.
we have now entered the propaganda war phase. i told both sbs and abc that the whole thing could have been a set up to allow us to enter the area, to pull down the first fence with no resistance from police, that sand bags were left on the ground which we used to keep the razor wire covered so that our brothers and sisters could walk on the fallen fence without any fear of being cut. when the detainees wriggled and squeezed through the iron bars of the cage, no police tried to stop tyhem. i believe that the authorities who knew about the woomera2002 event beforehand moved a whole bunch of detainees before we arrived and had kept only 300 there, the detainees that could not be processed, “the ones who more than likely were criminals etc”, funny about that because there many children still in detention…criminal kids! So, I think that the authorities made it easy for us and the detainees whoescaped so that they could then orchestrate stories using one off pictures to “prove” their point that we are a bunch of “soccer hooligans”. In other words, the demonisation of asylum seekers is now being perpetrated on australian citizens, peaceful protesters. But, they will not get away with this…we have our own footage, we have our own voices, we have our own support and we are articulate – we speak english and we have our own alternative media thru the internet.
The propaganda wars have begun. Truth will prevail! thanks to all of you who have shown support in every conceivable way. We now have to write letters to newspapers, write articles, talk with the media. I will work on the HOPE Website today and see if i can upload images etc . i have hundreds and Paul has great video footage which I will pick up on saturday which I will transform into didgital images to be uploaded.
See you all soon. peace, love and joy steve g AKA stavros
“The darkest places in hell are reserved for those who remain neutral in times of moral crisis” – Dante
This picture was adapted from an original pencil drawing done by an inmate of Woomera. He gave us permission to use this image on our Hope Caravan Group Homepage.
We brought along a giant kite which flew the FREEDOM banner in the sky! Refugees who escaped told us in our tent that they could see it flying high in the sky above their razor wired prison.
We met, as affinity groups, to discuss and strategise during the Spokescouncils. Democracy – in – Action!
We had to bring our own water because we were in the desert. The water tank was organised by Melbourne groups and is here draped over by HOPE Caravan’s FREEDOM Banner.
Flyer distributed by No One Is Illegal group in Melbourne.
Woomera – Saturday Night is the loneliest night ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
There is a buzz around the camp after a successfull 48 hours of direct action. People believe that we are now able to permantly close down the concentration camp. 2000 people at Easter, 10,000 at Christmas. Live gigs have started and the party is begining to rock. http://melbourne.indymedia.org/front.php3?article_id=24300&group=webca st
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A protester’s account of being arrested for being ‘suspected of being a detainee’ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It’s not easy being brown. But it can be a lot of fun. Late last night we found our campsite completely surrounded by cops and APS officers waiting to nab the friends that we had rescued from Woomera. I thought it would be both amusing and a good waste of their time and resources if they did catch a detainee — if that `detainee’ was me.
So I headed for the police roadblock where I was surrounded by seven or eight cops who grabbed me sneering “You’re one of those escaped detainees, aren’tcha?”
I denied this (in a very bad, stereotypically Middle-Eastern accent), and then started yelling that I wanted a lawyer, that I was a citizen, I had rights, etc. etc. These morons actually fell for what was becoming the most pathetic impersonation of a detainee ever performed and decided to search me, removing lethal weapons such as tic tacs, extra shoelaces and my toothbrush.
I was freaking out that such a ridiculous plan was actually working, so I dropped my silly accent and told the cops that I was in fact an Australian citizen with identification back at camp. Not good enough – this little darkie got arrested. They forced me into the back of their van, locked me in and drove me to the station.
When I was removed from the van I was photographed and then had all my stuff — beanie, shoes, necklaces — confiscated. A religious necklace that I couldn’t remove was cut from my neck. I colourfully told the cops how badly they had screwed up their arrest and about my rights, to which one of them responded that I was suspected of being a detainee AND HAD NO RIGHTS. Well, that’s just fucking dandy, isn’t it? If you happen to be brown and near a detention centre, some pigs in a van can rock up and do whatever they like to you because you happen to be the right colour. Never mind that I was a Bangladeshi immigrant speaking fluent English — I could just as easily have been one of those damn Afghani terrorists who escaped and are a threat to society at large.
So I was handcuffed and put in a cell with 12 detainees who told me about how they had been beaten when they were captured. Among them was a 12 year-old boy who we had seen bashed earlier as well as a 14 year-old and a man who had been savaged by APS pigs.
All the detainees had scars and bruising either from beatings or suicide attempts. They told me about how they would rather fight to stay in the jail cell — a bare concrete floor with an open ceiling — than be taken back to Woomera. The men told me about the `jobs’ they have (toilet cleaning, dishwashing and maintenance) which pay around a dollar an hour. The money they earn goes towards buying things like shoes and thongs from a `shop’ in the camp.
Finally, an APS official called `Mr Dan’ came in. I can’t think of anything about Woomera that made it seem like a concentration camp more than watching a group of men call out serial numbers instead of their own names.
When the police realised their mistake, I was driven back to camp. I don’t know what will happen to my friends who were in the cell with me. But being arrested for being brown reflects what is driving the entire refugee debate: ignorance. People too culturally ignorant to tell one kind of person from another, people too stupid to recognise diversity and people too stubborn to accept others. It scares me that we live in a country where you can be arrested for the colour of your skin. But it scares me more that you can be locked away indefinitely for it while a nation turns its back on you.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Desert Spectacle – there’s neither violence or non-violence out here — it’s pure spectacle ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Amid all the talk and text, and among all the hype and hyperbole surrounding the actions of the last two days, the poles of “violent” and “non-violent” have, as is typical, been the ends we are supposed to have swung between. But I beg to differ.
Pure SPECTACLE has been the master of our desert existence.
We all came here spurred by the image of spectacle, and from the moment we arrived we assumed lead roles in its temporary show.
It was neither violence or non-violence that saw us march across the dusty span between us and them. Nor did the circus music we marched to, or the pink PVC clad activo-expressionists have anything to do with violence or non-violence — it was pure spectacle.
It was the spectacle of the absurd — absurd tactics countering absurd politics and policy. We were all moving pictures, media sluts once removed. The whole action was captured on film at every angle — spectacular fodder for the spectacle machine. I saw a guy asked to start drumming again — by a channel 7 cameraman! — of course he obliged.
So if we think of the intensity and degree of spectacle involved here I think it’s clear that we’re not trapped in the dichotomy of violence or non-violence, but willing actors in the spectacle of the desert — and, may I say, it’s working.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Solidarity at Woomera Jail ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A small, peaceful support group spent today in front of Woomera police station, offering our support (and bail sureties) to the people inside as best we could. Protestors from inside and outside the detention centre fences were held there, and could often be heard singing between negotiations with the police. The police were friendly, letting us pass in cigarettes, food and legal contact numbers and treating those inside the jail with respect as negotiations around bail conditions went on.
In the afternoon, our crew walked closer to the fence and yelled ‘We’re still here’ to make sure they knew they had support. We realised we could see some of the people inside if we angled our heads around a few tarps, and waved and exchanged hellos with the people inside. After a few minutes an officer politely asked us to move away, and we did, happy to have seen our friends and comrades smiling back at us.
The town was quiet, but a few locals walked by, some offering words of support. One offered to get us some fresh water from his house if we needed it, and joked that the locals understood it had all been an accident and that the wind had knocked down the fence. His friends offered elaborate advice on how we could fold newspapers to channel that wind power at future protests. It was very encouraging to be reminded that some people in town are supportive of our presence and our actions. We are proud of the fact that we’ve maintained a nonviolent presence outside the prison all day, and we hope for the speedy release of all the incarcerated.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ comments to a post: “Summing up the Damage” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
What has happened at Woomera is a huge morale boost for the refugees, who now know that there ARE many Australians who care about them. The secrecy around detention of refugees has finally been broken down in the last few months, and the refugees have finally been given a human face and voice and more truth is coming out.
Ruddock/Howard and co. will have a lot of brainstorming to do for their public image.
If anything… consider this. The detainees have consistently been told that no-one in australia cares about them, even been told they are there for their own protection from an australia that hates them… their plight. Well now they at least can sleep at night with hope. Hope knowing that they aren’t alone. Aren’t totally isolated. That there ARE people on the outside who care … and maybe just maybe those of us on the outside can see what a group of determined people can achieve. Shut em all down!!! Lets finish the job at Woomera and move on to the next one.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Another red-dust dawn ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was strange spending a night in a camp surrounded on all sides by a police line. Even at midnight, when the shifts changed and there were very few cops on the ground, it was an eerie feeling. It must have been worse for the detainees that were with us, surrounded by unfamiliar faces, by a line of cops that wanted to put them back in a cage, and finally by the desert. But this is not some white-urban activist grief session — they knew that any chance was better than no chance. And we had worked together to make the escapes happen (spontaneous as it was). They told us during the night of the beatings and the suffering inside the camp. They told us of the endless wait — 24 months, 26 months,… – just to know whether they could stay in Australia on a temporary visa or whether they would be deported back to face persecution, imprisonment or death.
All wanted to get out of the camp and to Adelaide or some major city. Some struck out on their own, others went with drivers from the camp to see how far they could get. We knew of the road block down at Pt Augusta, but some figured that there would be back ways around the town. The police say they have over 20 in custody, and 17 people who were helping them, but we also know that the detainees within the camp have been protesting all night so they couldn’t do a head count. Inside and out, we were doing what we could.
Dawn was quiet. The police sweep we expected didn’t happen. The police presence around the camp was light. The rumored truckloads of federal police didn’t appear. And we had all heard the talk of a fall out between the SA police and the APS. But the morning turned into afternoon, set-up continued, and (yet more) meetings happened. The direct action planned for the afternoon turned into a peaceful ‘colour and movement’ march through the prohibited area check point. And we are taking it slowly through the rest of the weekend, trying to keep clear and focused on why we are here.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A Personal Account ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I don’t know were to start except that I am still left with this strong feeling of responsibility out of my depth. Having people in my care, having no idea how to deal with it.
I never expected this to happen. Suddenly we have these people half way out, and what seems like a hopeless situation, theres only so much you can disguise someone, we’re trapped in the desert, everywhere to run, but no were to go.
We were so tired, the campsite surrounded by riot police, road blocks.
All you want to do with this big secret is divulge, tell everyone and share the burden, but you can’t. There were people more involved than me, people willing to drive out.
One of my friends was arrested with detainees, – today he’s on bail, apparently there is some tension between the south australian police who want to press charges, and the Federals who want to press on. It’s a serious offence, aiding and abetting, my friend faces 4 years in jail. It seems so unfair.
What would you do, if a refuge arrived on your doorstep? Suddenly we had people in our tents, and amongst the crowd. People with bruises and scars, with pleading eyes, and their own long stories. There is no choice, like the guys who helped the Jews in Germany said, – it was not a question of whether to help but how.
This guy was from Afghanistan; he has a sister my age and 3 brothers, he is hardly older than me, and hasn’t seen or heard from his family for a year and a half. He’s been in Woomera for a year. We wanted him to decide what he wanted to do.
His quiet unreadable face is suddenly tense, `Please, I don’t want to go back, I can’t go back inside.’ I asked what it is like – `it is like prison, we are not allowed to sleep at night, all we do is walk around [the room,] there is nothing to do, no work to fill up the time, all we do is eat and sleep, eat and sleep.’
He was there, sitting, expecting me to help, to know what to do, I have no idea, I try to be honest that his chances aren’t good, to find out what all the best options are, I want to go to bed and pretend it will all go away.
It seemed that for him this was just more of the same, the hiding, fleeing, the persecution and the fear…. I asked if he had to fight in Afghanistan, he said no, asked if I knew there had been 24 years of fighting in Afghanistan, that the Taliban were persecuting people. He said that there were many people who did not want to fight, but that they had ways of taking people and making them fight.
This morning he is gone, It is not clear that he’s been caught I don’t know what happened, perhaps he might get away.
No one expected this to happen, I don’t have very much in the way of analysis right now, all I have is a very strong sense of the real and human side of what is happening. But that there are some people amongst my friends and the people here who were much braver and selfless than I was, that there is a lot of suffering in the world, and when it landed on my doorstep, I didn’t know how to deal with it.
———————————- And someone posted this comment in response:
we all share the same anguish – the story of those who were asked to help the refugees escape is a mirror to the question each australian must ask themselves shall i allow others to suffer when i can prevent it. all the protesters did a great job fought for something a lot of australians strongly believe in ‘free the refugees’
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ STATEMENT BY 16 ARRESTED WOOMERA REFUGEES FROM FRIDAY 29th MARCH’S BREAKOUT. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“We have made the world hell with racism, colours, religionism, ethnics and so on. Businesses and wrong diplomacy. ACM is bad, Australian Government is bad, Australian people are good. Detention centre still continues day by day. You will see what is going on.”
This statement was given to my friend from the refugees on a piece of paper. They have told my friend who was locked up in the same cell today that “ACM are evil” and that they called them “the Mafia”. They all said that they are beaten every day and never get let outside. They also said that they are not fed properly. They say that if they escape 3 times they get deported, and they said that some of them will commit suicide before they get deported.
My friend talked to the police and saw the police books and said that 47 refugees escaped the compound of which 37 have been arrested. 10 refugees are still unaccounted for. 9 protesters have been charged with harbouring.
In jail my friends said the refugees danced and sang for them. In return my friend rapped a rhyme about refugees to them which they all danced to. They thank us for all our support.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ WOOMERA LEGAL SUPPORT GROUP PRESS RELEASE by Mick Lumsden & Sarah Nicholson 8:22pm Sat Mar 30 ’02 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Woomera Legal support group expresses its concern over the statements and actions of the Australian Protective Services and the South Australian Police over the last two days.
The legal support group is supporting the 16 protestors that have been charged with Harbouring Escapees under the Criminal Law Consolidation Act.
The Woomera Legal support group understands that the only violence perpetrated has been initiated by the police. The police have a lawful right to use reasonable force to arrest people, but they have to accept the moral responsibility for violence they initiate — they cannot shift that blame onto non-violent protestors. Again we are witnessing breaches of the fundamental right to protest.
We strongly dispute the police’s assertion that the behaviour of the protestors has caused injury to the Asylum Seekers and to themselves. Reports of what is occurring inside the detention centre describe gross injustices. The detainees themselves have stated that there are reprisal beatings for those taken back to the detention centre after escape. Not only is their detention a breach of international refugee and human rights law, but the conditions in which they are being detained are inhumane.
We are extremely concerned about the lack of legal and other support for the detainees, particularly those in police custody. The Woomera Lawyers have already been refused access to those inside the detention centre over the long weekend. The detainees being held by the South Australian Police have none of the usual rights accorded to Australian citizens on arrest.
The Legal Support Group believes that the actions of the nonviolent protestors during this demonstration at Woomera contribute to destroying the veil of secrecy and silence that surrounds the detention centre by publicising and making transparent the conditions inside the centre.
We believe the existence of the detention centre is a disruption to the peace and security of the community of Woomera and the rest of Australia and until it is closed this situation will continue.
René Daumal was one of the most gifted literary figures in France in the early part of the twentieth century, René Daumal was a genuine seeker of truth. He was a philosopher and poet. In the later part of his life, he had the good fortune to meet and work with G I Gurdjieff.
René Daumal
I first came across his work while I was reading William Blake for my honours thesis. I was struck by the similarity of their outlook even though they lived a century apart. They both shared a vision rooted in a sense of the real that was not dependent on the consensus reality they were embedded in. They were both spiritual in their own idiosyncratic way without recourse to traditional religious structures of church or temple. René Daumal speaks to me in a clearer way, maybe because he lived closer to my own present moment.
Daumal’s unfinished novel, “Mount Analogue: A Tale of Non-Euclidian and Symbolically Authentic Mountaineering Adventures” is a story about a group of people who are on a journey to visit a mountain that connects heaven with earth. They sail on a ship called “Impossible” encountering their “soft pillow of doubt” and the “relatively real.” He uses the universality of the Mountain symbol to convey the sense of ascending towards Truth in a non religious way. One of the themes is that advance can only happen in a one step up, two steps down way. It is a spiritual approach that is connected to a secular and a modern sense of the sacred. In Erik Davis’ words, “In his [Daumal] life and mind, we can trace the prophetic outlines of a genuine ‘mystical modernism’, a mode of spiritual practice that is experiential, anti-religious, and counter-cultural — even to the point of being counter-modern.”
I believe the challenge for us in the 21st Century is to somehow feel a sense of the sacred in a community that no longer has belief in an anthropomorphic God. The battle is against ALL fundamentalist belief structures – whether they’re informed by religion, science, economics or apparent rationalism. Mount Analogue points towards an approach that is both universalist and uniquely individual.
A diagram from Mount Analogue
The book is an allegory of creative practice, the skills required to bring something into existence from nothing, the process of work.
The end of the book was completed mid sentence when he passed away. His wife, Vera Milanova, included the following poem in the Post Script of Mount Analogue.
This poem has fed me ever since I first came across it:
Mount Analogue book cover.
I am dead because I lack desire,
I lack desire because I think I possess.
I think I possess because I do not try to give.
In trying to give, you see that you have nothing;
Seeing that you have nothing, you try to give of yourself;
Trying to give of yourself, you see that you are nothing:
Seeing that you are nothing, you desire to become;
In desiring to become, you begin to live.
Another Poem
One cannot stay on the summit forever –
One has to come down again.
So why bother in the first place? Just this.
What is above knows what is below –
But what is below does not know what is above
One climb, one sees-
One descends and sees no longer
But one has seen!
There is an art of conducting one’s self in
The lower regions by the memory of
What one saw higher up.
When one can no longer see,
One does at least still know.
Another Poem : Skin of Light
The skin of light enveloping this world lacks depth and I can actually see the black night of all these
similar bodies beneath the trembling veil and light of myself it is this night that even the mask of the
sun cannot hide from me I am the seer of night the auditor of silence for silence too is dressed in
sonorous skin and each sense has its own night even as I do I am my own night I am the conceiver
of non-being and of all its splendor I am the father of death she is its mother she whom I evoke
from the perfect mirror of night I am the great inside-out man my words are a tunnel punched
through silence I understand all disillusionment I destroy what I become I kill what I love.
“Art has a double face, of expression and illusion, just like science has a double face: the reality of error and the phantom of truth. ”
from Vol. 2, Essais et Notes
“Man is head, chest and stomach. Each of these animals operates, more often than not, individually. I eat, I feel, I even, although rarely, think…. This jungle crawls and teems, is hungry, roars, gets angry, devours itself, and its cacophonic concert does not even stop when you are asleep. ”
from Vol. 2, Essais et Notes
“Truth is one, but error proliferates. Man tracks it down and cuts it up into little pieces hoping to turn it into grains of truth. But the ultimate atom will always essentially be an error, a miscalculation. ”
from Vol. 2, Essais et Notes
La grande beuverie (A Night of Serious Drinking)
“Words are made for a certain exactness of thought, as tears are for a certain degree of pain. What is least distinct cannot be named; what is clearest is unutterable. ”
“It is still not enough for language to have clarity and content … it must also have a goal and an imperative. Otherwise from language we descend to chatter, from chatter to babble and from babble to confusion.”
“Common experience is the gold reserve which confers an exchange value on the currency which words are; without this reserve of shared experiences, all our pronouncements are cheques drawn on insufficient funds.”
From the Publisher of “You’ve Always Been Wrong”.
A fitful interloper among the Surrealists, Daumal rejected all forms of dogmatic thought, whether religious, philosophical, aesthetic, or political. Much like the Surrealists (and French theorists of more recent decades), Daumal saw in the strict forms and certainties of traditional metaphysics a type of thought that enslaves people even as it pretends to liberate them. These “cadavers of thought”, Daumal wrote with youthful bravado, “must be met with storms of doubt, blasphemes, and kerosene for the temples”. Daumal tied Surrealism with mystical traditions. A devoted student of Eastern religions, philosophy, and literature, he combined his skepticism about Western metaphysics with a mystic’s effort to maintain intense wakefulness to the present moment and to the irreducible particularity of all objects and experience. Such wakefulness, according to Daumal, leads inevitably to an overwhelming (and redemptive) “vision of the absurd”. Daumal’s important place in French culture of the late 1920s and 1930s has been assured by both his writings and his role as cofounder of the avant-garde journal Le Grand Jeu. Written between 1928 and 1930, You’ve Always Been Wrong reveals Daumal’s thought as it was coalescing around the rejection of Western metaphysics and the countervailing allure of Eastern mysticism.
Are we “rats” living in a maze, a labyrinth in which we do our thing as sleep walking voyagers in a multidimensional maze of flesh, bone, muscle, life, thought and soul energy which has as its determining edges and surface – ordinary life, consensus reality? We get lost in this labyrinth, this maze through our habitual reactions and our mind’s tendency to reduce everything to the familiar. Is the “world a vampire” as the Smashing Pumpkins put it? I believe it is, when we live our lives as robots giving food of our being to the forces around us rather than making the extra effort to BE. The big question is HOW to be and I believe an approach to this answer may lie in the fact that the “rat in the maze behaviour” may be the habits of our biological destiny locked in the “mind forged manacles” (William Blake) of our attitudes.
If we acknowledge this then we may be open to the possibility for help from another level of existence, a level above the maze of consensus reality. Consensus reality, to me, is the wall to wall world of the labyrinth that appears automatically to our senses five in this culture. It is the reality that statistics places under a Bell Curve and measures standards and their many deviations. Consensus reality is the “common sense world” where Newton‘s Laws hold sway though we may know of Einstein‘s relativity and quantum physics. Consensus reality bases itself fundamentally on the dichotomy between I – and – the – world, I the knower and the world – the known. In this consensus world we do our shopping, we make love, we learn, we walk, we talk, we climb mountains, we give birth and we bury our dead. This consensus reality is what we naturally know, this is the world which Blake’s “Vegetative Eye” beholds.
Blake’s Newton (1795) demonstrates his opposition to the “single-vision” of scientific materialism: Newton fixes his eye on a compass (recalling Proverbs 8:27)
It is difficult to speak of consensus reality because the language used to speak of it can be seen to be the guiding parameters of the / this world. Each language, thus each culture has its own consensus reality. The Inuit people who can discern over 20 different types of snow and white hues, the Aboriginal people of Central Australia who discern many different types of sand demonstrate different consensus realities which have “facts” that the western positivistic consensus reality does not acknowledge. We can go further and say that one consensus reality (a reality consented to by the participants) may include events and actions which through the window of another consensus reality would appear to be miraculous or impossible. To one reality this piece of ground means an energy resource and dollars, to another the same piece of ground may be sacred and the navel (Omphalos) of the world. Of course we have the Common Ground on which we stand and live within the Common Maze and thus communicate with our diverse languages and translations of same.
I’m interested in the realm outside the maze, the a – maze. This is where the allegory of Plato’s Cave makes amazing sense. Check out this diagram it “tells” Plato’s story in few words. The cave is the maze, is the world of senses five, the beholden of the Vegetative Eye.
Plato's Cave - the sunlight is the Light of the Real World, the shadow world is the world seen through the Vegetative Eye.
What I’m saying in a round about way is that there are as many realities as there are consensual agreements. These realities have their own maps and means of orientation. The western positivistic reality is just one. It may be possible to change channels and tune into other frequencies…using the language of the net – we may be able to browse other patterns of meaning and thus participate in another reality. The trick is to be able to shift.
In terms of futures – each consensus reality will create its own consensus future. If enough people believe and act as if the future they want will be and is perhaps the consensus reality of these people will make it happen.
Having said all that, I use the above as my departure point when I attempt to manifest events which may assist in reducing the suffering of sentient existence – both my own and others.
The next question that arises from this is HOW? Traditionally, the work which makes the HOW possible, the “technology” has been known as Magic. Later posts will explore this.
The experiment concerned whether the mantic techniques of “astrologising” and casting a hexagram would assist in focusing an intention for change.
Say our ordinary experience of time is like driving down a road. We look ahead, we look at the rear view mirror and the side mirrors as we drive down the road. Occasionally we come across a dip in the road and we can’t see very far ahead except for the dip. If we have driven on this road before, we recognize the dip and we know from previous experience how deep it is and how far it extends. If we haven’t, we take it as it comes. Now, what if we look at the dip on the road as the unknown and hazardous element of the near future where we are concerned about a particular issue. Can we do anything which will assist us in knowing the dimensions of this “dip” and what may lie just beyond it?
I Ching Hexagrams. These are the 64 hexagrams used in the I Ching.
This is where the intuitive arts of I Ching and Astrology come in. They may be methods which can measure the dimensions of the “dip” and give a glimpse of what lies just beyond it.
The experience that the horoscope was drawn for, a couple of weeks ahead, would validate what the I Ching showed. In this scenario the I Ching reading is a signal from the dip ahead in number patterns and the horoscope gives a synchronous timescape illuminated in signs and symbols of astrological lore after the hexagram was cast.
The situation I drew up the horoscope for was a meeting with Management of our Institute. I needed to get an OK to push for a more proactive role in our influence on training for non English speaking background workers at BHP. I don’t want to bore you with the details but basically it was very, very important to me because it would open the door for 1000 migrant iron workers to get skilled so they could move up the ladder of qualifications classification…for more money and better recognition of their already learned skills. The educational need was for more English language tuition with vocational courses thrown in. They’ll learn English and arm themselves with vocational skills in preparation for the time when BHP would close down. The whole access and equity, social justice bit together and to boot, my father was a steel worker at the Port Kembla Steelworks.
Karmic payment time, big time. So, it was important that this deal went through.
I don’t know about you, but I when I really want something and I believe in my heart of hearts that what I want is also for the betterment of others, I realise that I can’t do it alone. The job’s too big to do on our own.
Sometimes it is important to have a periscopic picture of the dip ahead and its terrain. I called on the assistance of the invisible forces and they answered in astrological signs and ideographic hexagrams. The conjunction of the mantic techniques pointed to a favourable outcome. Advisedly it also indicated the potential hazards.
After the appointment with management I reviewed the readings of both the horoscope and the hexagrams of the moment with the benefit of hind sight. Here comes the clincher – without the readings’ advice and warnings the outcome may not have been the same … so, do the readings predict the future or do they assist in making the future by engaging their energy? What I mean is, the myth of star and hexagram consultation is more like a partnership in creating the future rather than a one way line of “future” information. The “gods – the invisible forces” operating at this hinterland of observation and coincidence are functionalities and not separate cartoon figures of winged feet and curly tails. These “gods” enter through the mantic operation of “casting a hexagram / casting a chart” and assist in the arising of the outcome that is required for the moment.
I Ching traditional coins. I use 3 ordinary dollar coins. Heads and Tails are the same on any coin.
From this vantage point, I don’t do anything except open the door for the “gods” to finish what is intended to blossom.
The focus for me in that exercise was not so much the external details of the events but rather their symbolic connection. The question for me is how to focus with more of myself than just the “rational – informational” shell? The cracking of the shell is the equivalent of gaining a helicopter view over the dip in front of us.
stavros
Flotillas of Hope Astrological Sky Map – Horoscope.
Below is something I wrote a few years ago after bumping into a friend I hadn’t seen for a long time. The feelings expressed, I think, are just as relevant today as they were then, when I, along with others, was preparing for the Woomera Action in Easter, 2002 with Hope Caravan.
When I saw him yesterday, he seemed so at peace with himself. He was sitting in a half lotus, his bare feet crossing over each other on his sofa. The mandala tattoo above his ankle balanced the diamond-shaped crystal dangling from his neck. We shared some green tea, and he smiled as he closed the book before him. His calm demeanor was a stark contrast to my inner turmoil.
He was an old friend, someone I hadn’t seen for a long while, and in that time, our paths had diverged. He found spiritual bliss, and I found more reasons to struggle for peace. He found inner peace, so he told me, whereas I found inner warfare, so I told him. His holy war had been won, while mine had just started, as it had done so continuously for a long time.
“You are caught up in a duality,” he said, smiling with calculated humility, “You think that you can change the world, but all that you can change is yourself.”
He was referring to the fact that I had asked him to join me in action, an action to support those who cannot speak or act for themselves because of their current circumstances. I asked him to join me and others to act in support of the refugees imprisoned in the concentration camps of Australia. In particular, to join others in the Festival of Freedoms at Woomera in Easter 2002.
I replied, “But what if my self is larger than that circumscribed by my skin? What if I include the whole planet? When I see suffering and injustice outside my body, it is still within me.”
He laughed, “Well, in that case, your ego is bigger than mine!”
He adjusted his posture by letting go of his half lotus and allowing his leg to fall straight down over the side of the sofa. He leant forward, placing his elbows on his knees, and his dangling crystal swayed like a pendulum between us. Incense smoke spiralled upwards from the joss stick on the coffee table before us.
I could see his point, but it still didn’t feel right. I said, “Big or small, ego will always be here. Tell me, what do you do if you see your neighbour’s house burning down? Do you say your house is OK, so why worry about your neighbour?”
“I would immediately help extinguish the fire. For me, the plight of refugees and wars on the other side of the planet are things I can’t do anything about. I aim for inner peace through my meditation, and this in itself will do far more for the refugees and war than anything your protests and actions will ever do. Why? Because I am changing myself, I recognise that all true change must start with myself. Your protests and actions add more ‘noise’ to the whole situation. Create an oasis of silence and peace within yourself. This will have far more impact than going out on the street or facing the razor wire of the camps. Change yourself – that’s all you need to do!”
He took another sip of his tea and stared me in the eyes. Or was he staring at the point between my eyes on my forehead, the so-called third eye? I couldn’t tell, except that I felt a certain intensity of effort from his gaze, that he was trying to change my perspective by using subliminal energies directed at me. Of course, he was kidding himself if he tried to do this.
Yes, our paths had diverged. While I saw that it is essential to work on oneself and recognise that what goes on inside, behind one’s eyes, affects what goes on outside oneself, I also felt that one could not just rest in one’s relaxed navel and allow others to suffer. Can one carry the “oasis of silence” found within to external places of sorrow and injustice to share the peace? I asked myself.
I met his gaze and then wondered if it was within or without me as I walked away.
Ouraboros resting on a relaxed navel.
stavros
“The darkest places in hell are reserved for those who remain neutral in times of moral crisis.” – Dante
Lance Gowland, Skipper of Eureka on the way to Nauru with the Flotillas of Hope.
On Saturday, November 22, a celebration of Lance Gowland’s life was held in Sydney. He was a proud 78’er for Gay Liberation risking life and limb for the rights of LGBTQI people. I couldn’t go because of my broken leg but I did send some photos and and some words to be recited as the photos appeared in the appropriate space of Lance’s life in the slide show.
I first met Lance when he answered the Call to Action, for the Flotillas of Hope, to bring hope to the refugees imprisoned on Nauru. He wrote me an email saying he had a boat and he was willing to sail it to Nauru. For him very simple words to utter, but for me, they were miraculous sounds that further crystallized the dream of going to Nauru. Now we had at least 2 boats – Eureka and One Off in Brisbane. When the Call to Action was sent on its email trajectory, there were no boats, no money, no technology, no crew. All there was, was a dream quickening into life any time someone offered some support for the dream to manifest.
Lance also asked me later on the phone if there was another experienced sailor that was going on the trip to Nauru. He wanted to know because he had a terminal illness and he didn’t want the people like me who had never sailed, to be stranded out in the deep blue ocean with no way of returning to Australia. He also asked me to not say anything to anyone about his condition until we returned safely.
Luckily I could answer with a resounding YES!
Ruth Boydell on Eureka.
Ruth Boydell, a Maritime Teacher at Newcastle TAFE, was not only an experienced sailor who had sailed solo from India to Australia but was also a TAFE teacher of sailing and other maritime esoterica. Ruth and I both work in TAFE at Newcastle. I work in Multicultural Education.
The words below were recited on 22 November, 2008 at the Celebration of Lance’s Life.
It was a windy night, the Southern Cross flag flapped behind us, we the crew of Eureka, sat listening to Lance telling us the story of the Eureka Stockade. We were about 400 miles away from Nauru out in the deep blue without any certainty that we would arrive safely and even if we did whether the Nauruan people would greet us peacefully or with the Australian Federal Police armed with their guns.
The Southern Cross flag on Eureka. Photo taken on the night that Lance told us the story.
After a short spell of silence, with the wind blowing, Lance with great feeling quoted these words from the Eureka Stockade:
“We swear by the Southern Cross to stand truly by each other and defend our rights and liberties”.
For most of us, it was the first time we heard these words and on Eureka out in the deep blue, sailing to Nauru to bring hope to imprisoned refugees, hearing our Skipper, Lance say them, made it an unforgettable moment.
Lance, our Skipper, thank you for standing by me and the crew. Thank you for your courage and generosity of spirit standing by the impoverished refugees who sought hope on Nauru.
You, Lance, are a man who will live on in any action done by any person for the cause of social justice.
Since writing the above Australia has legalised Same Sex Marriage in 2017 and in 2018 the 40th Anniversary of the Mardi Gras was celebrated. Just before this ABC TV broadcast a documentary about the struggle for equal rights for gay people.
Mardi Gras named Lance Gowland the Father of the Revolution.
The Flotillas of Hope was a voyage by two yachts carried out in 2004 by protesters critical of the Australian government’s asylum policy. The boats sailed to Nauru, a Pacific island nation which was host to Australia’s offshore immigrant detention center until the new Labor government came to power in 2007. They intended to deliver goods to those interned (most detainees are families who fled conflict in Afghanistan and Iraq), but not surprisingly were not allowed to land by the Nauruan government. Under an agreement put into effect earlier that year, Australia had taken responsibility for the island’s finances and civilian police force. John Howard, the Australian Prime Minister at the time, forced the Nauru government to take armed Australian Police Force to “protect” the island nation from the Flotillas of Hope flying Teddy Bear flags. The Flotillas of Hope project had two intentions 1) to give the refugees caged on the Island of Shame – Nauru, hope – that they have not been forgotten by people, that the Pacific Solution – out of sight, out of mind, did not work and 2) to bring the world media spotlight on Nauru on World Refugee Day, 20 June 2004. This the project achieved and it saw the granting of asylum to over half the refugees on Nauru and the release of Aladdin Sisalem who was in solitary confinement on Manus Island, New Guinea while we were sailing to Nauru.
Hand made flags with messages of hope and love made by the people of Australia flew on Eureka and One Off.
The way the Flotillas grew from an idea, a dream that manifested at first as an email Call to Action using the internet as a nervous system which then as an organsim, gathered into the Flotillas intention – satellite mobile phones, life rafts, high frequency radios, laptops, generators, sun power inverters, flags painted by community hands, dolls and teddy bears in handmade clothes, knitted sweaters, a large canvas sail painted by local Sydney artists along with other paintings expressly made and auctioned to raise money for the safe passage of the Flotillas of Hope, all of this and more occurred during the event.. From the finer embedded world of qualities, the realm of hope, love, justice, freedom – the realm of the spirits, the realm of creation, the Flotillas sparked into the internet. It was Art – in – Action using the world wide web to manifest. Hope was generated in not only the refugees caged on Nauru, but also in all people of good will who felt despondent that nothing will change the government’s heartless policy.
Trade Union Choir singing at the launch of the Flotillas of Hope in Sydney, 15 May, 2004.
Along the way, to the launch of the Flotillas, musicians performed live gigs to raise money for the project. There was a theme song written, performed and recorded along with poems about the Action. Check out Ernesto Presente’s poem on Poetry for Change website here. The lyrics of the Flotillas of Hope Theme Song is below. You can download the song here. You can also check out Joanna Leigh’s myspace profile here.
University students made videos. At the send – offs from Sydney, Newcastle, Coffs Harbour, Byron Bay and Brisbane, the Flotillas of Hope gathered the communities wishes and intentions to bring Hope to the refugees in the concentration camp of Nauru. The Flotillas did this by accepting hand made toys, hand made clothes for the dolls and teddy bears, the drawings and paintings of love and hope by Australian children, hand made flags with hand written words of love and hope from the people of Australia and overseas who sent gifts by post. Communities made beautiful flags – one with a Mandala made under the direction of a Buddhist priest, another of a Teddy Bear made by people who cared.
Poster promoting the departure of the flotillas from Brisbane.
On route to Nauru, the Flotillas docked at Santa Cruz Island, a far flung island of the Solomon Islands. The local indigenous people were so touched by our intention and by how far we had sailed and were sailing that they carved a beautiful wooden oar and gave it us to symbolize that they were rowing all the way with us to Nauru. They gave us the gift on the day we departed Santa Cruz with a send off that included singing, dancing, eating and words of power and encouragement.
The Flotillas carried the cargo of hope through the 12 mile No Go Zone and got to within 500 metres of Nauru coast until they were chased out by 6 Nauruan boats. The boats, Eureka and One Off became living talismans of peaceful and compassionate energies from Australians.
On the way to Nauru, refugees were freed and the websites designed to be the communications hub of the project informed the world about what was happening. There were live interviews with ABC, SBS, BBC, NZBC, Houston Radio, USA along with commercial radio and TV in Australia. A filmmaker, Angela van Boxtel made a Lucid Launch Flotillas of Hope website where artists contributed their art on the website. The Flotillas of Hope was an idea that touched people from across the world and it was an effective art action in all its levels of manifestation.
Santa Cruz, Solomon Islands locals dancing at the departure ceremony.
Santa Cruz, Solomon Island dancers at the departure ceremony wishing us luck and grace.
Various artists painted sections of this canvas sail which was auctioned off along with other original works of art in Gallery 179, Darlinghurst to raise funds for the Flotillas of Hope..
It was also an expression of the newly coined word “Noopolitics” which encompasses Pierre Teilhard de Chardin’s concept of the noosphere of knowledge / information (Teilhard is often called the patron saint of the Internet) because we not only made the news, we also reported the news which was transmitted across the world wide web and TV, radio and text media through our logs and the live satellite phone hookups with global media. The narrative of the journey was transmitted live by the logs of the crew.
The crew received messages of hope – poems and passionate prose from people all over the world who sent text messages from the web directly to our sat – phone in the middle of the deep blue sea. People following the journey on the web were informed as to the exact location of the boats by maps updated by satellite phone to the communications cluster. The project has been archived at the Australian Maritime Museum.
Artists that contributed the sections on the Sail are in order from the top to the bottom, left to right: Dale Dean, Euan Macleod, Mareia Brozky, Angelica Greening, Ingrid Skirkia, John Bell, Lorna Grear, Neil Mallard, Euan Macleod (one more section), Leo Robbia and Martin Sharp.
Welcome — I’m glad you’re here.
On this blog I share the paths I’ve walked: outward journeys across places and causes, and inward journeys through reflection and creativity. Expect stories, poems, photos, quotes, and occasional star-gazing — astrology, I Ching, alchemy, and other ways of seeing.
You’ll also find traces of the human rights campaigns I’ve been part of, offered here as part memory, part witness.
Above all, this space is for connection — I hope you enjoy exploring, and I’d love to hear from you in the comments. I also share thoughts on politics and ideas on X (Twitter) @dodona777
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Posted by stavr0s 
Welcome — I’m glad you’re here.
Journeys and Star Gazing 