The final edition of Togatus for 2009. This edition has a particular spin on multiculturalism and racism in Australia as well a an in-depth feature on the eye-opening Australian movie Balibo, comment on climate change, a satirical guide to the summer holidays, an interview with electro kings Grafton Primary, and an insight into university life in the United States.
And much, much more!
With their captivating synth hooks and infectious lyrics, Grafton Primary have taken the Australian music scene by storm in recent years. The trio, consisting of Robbie Mudrazija and brothers Josh and Ben Garden, recently performed at the Uni Bar to fans of their electro-noir beats.
Tyne McConnon caught up with vocalist, Josh, to explore the band’s rise to fame and his relationship with music.
T: How did Grafton form?
JG: Ben and I were basically producing electronic music separately, doing our own thing. Ben was more studio-production based … while I got more into production and more interested in writing songs. We started sending a few things to each other and got together.
T: What is it like working with your brother?
JG: It is the best and worst really. Best [because] we both kind of love each other and we grew up together, so we have the same beliefs. Also I guess there is a sense of someone you have that bond with. We read each other’s minds. Worst as we really have different personalities so it’s a tricky working dynamic. It contributes to the music, however. You can both have separate ideas and put them together.
T: Have there ever been major sibling feuds or disagreements when you have been performing, or compiling an album?
JG: Not anything serious. Nothing newsworthy; no storming out of the room. There has been some tensions and disagreements, and angry emails; we don’t really do anger face-to-face very well. We brood and stew over it and then one of us will crack and say something. Constantly there are some tensions. But this is not a problem, as we know how to draw the line as adults. We would end the band if it got too bad.
T: What has been your favourite gig in Tassie so far?
JG: Falls was amazing; a good crowd and vibe. We had to fly out straight away, I wish we had stayed longer! Syrup was also great. We were disappointed that one [show] was cancelled. We got down to Hobart, got to the club, starting setting gear up and then honestly my voice had gone, I had to go straight to hospital. However, the one show that we did play was pretty insane. [There were] no barriers on the first night. There was [only] a wall of security guards [between us and the crowd].
T: Do you indulge in the ‘partying’ side of the industry?
JG: Sometimes I’m too tired to dance and I actually miss it in a way. But you’re human and you have responsibilities. I now have a different pace to life than I used to have and for me this is a really positive step … In my early 20’s I did loads of that and I had a mad time as people should get out and experience life … [But] at the moment I want to do something different. Priorities have changed with age. I still party and still dance, but don’t feel like I want to get messed up as my head is in a good place at the moment, I can get a high off the music and dancing alone. I now have the feeling I’m achieving what I want to achieve in my life.
T: Has this change in perspective changed your music?
JG: I have changed, but I have always been philosophical and poetic. Maybe I’m more [focussed] now on what I’m writing lyrically, there is more happiness, contentment and joy ... I am in love and have been for a few years now, and will be for a long time, and this has changed my perspective on a lot of things … Personal life impacts upon your music and I don’t want to keep them separate.
It’s a tiring [job] and pushes emotional buttons more than other jobs. If you work in an office your work is more about earning money not your personal project.
T: What comes first; lyrics or sound?
JG: The sound normally comes first. I don’t like fitting music around words. I don’t like making a melody to fit words I have put down. The words are made to fit a melody. Also when there is a melody in my head the feeling of the music gives you an idea for the words.
T: Favourite song to play at the moment?
JG: It depends on the crowd … [They usually like] new songs or reworked old ones.
T: Any particular song that you would love to remix?
JG: Not off the top of my head, however, I have been listing to music that you wouldn’t think about remixing. This includes a lot of hip-hop and soul music but I would feel bad about remixing this.
T: If you were not in Grafton Primary where would you be?
JG: If I hadn’t done this, I probably would have gone into hip-hop. I [always] say I have got to get round to doing some hip-hop. However, it’s hard to dedicate to it, as it’s a music genre that you would need to dedicate a whole lifestyle choice. Well that’s the vibe I get. You would need to be in a certain headspace to rhyme and re-program your brain to work in that sphere.
T: What can we see from Grafton in the future?
JG: I’m not exactly sure. The band will still be happening. But I’ll be a bit upset if [we are] still doing the same thing in a year. We want to keep pushing ourselves as producers and performers. In a year, my life will be really different, but who knows what will happen.
I’m at the point where I feel like I’m in charge of my life and anything could happen. I love doing this and I’m dedicated to doing it. But I’m dedicated to life mostly and there are other things in life [other] than this. Your life isn’t limited to one thing and you are never stuck to one thing.
Making friends is not always easy but a new initiative jointly run by the Faculty of Business, Students Services and International Services is setting about trying to help students create new friendships and better enjoy their time at university. The UTAS Community Friendship Programme began in 2009 with a six-month trial involving 20 participants from the UTAS English Language Centre as well as local students and community members who were interested in building friendships.
Director of the program, Matthew Anning says that the program is designed to help all new students at UTAS connect with each other.
“Quite clearly there is a perception that making friends with the locals in your new community adds to the quality of your experiences as a new student on campus.”
The program is not only for international students, but also for students from interstate or regional areas of Tasmania who come to study at UTAS away from their usual family and friends.
“It’s important that ‘new-to-town-students’ feel equal and supported and like they are part of the university community”. Mr Anning said.
“These days it is almost common knowledge that Culture Shock is a common experience for anyone who has taken the step of moving to a new location for living, work or study, so it is the aim of this program to bring everyone together and honour the diversity of students here” Mr Anning continued.
Mr Anning hopes that through this program new students can settle into their new experience without feeling like an outsider, and that local students and community members are provided with far reaching networking opportunities.
One of the aims of the program is language exchange – allowing students who are studying foreign languages to converse with international students in their native language. The objective of the program is to connect a small group of newly arrived students at the University with locals within that community, and promote rewarding interaction amongst them.
A similar program that is already proving successful in this area is the School of Asian Languages and Studies “Language Exchange Program” that links students studying Japanese with students from Japan studying on exchange at UTAS. Program participant Saori Kaneko from Agui-cho near Nagoya in Japan says:
“After I met my language exchange partner, my life here became much more fun! I enjoyed studying English and I was also happy to help teach Japanese as well. Also I made a lot of friends at Uni…it was very very helpful because I was not ashamed to ask them about easy English questions. Now I feel that my partner is one of my best friends and we still have a good relationship not only studying but also in our free time.”
Jade Crawford-Lehman from Hobart who participated in the program in the past says:
“I like that the program offers an opportunity for Tasmanian students to connect with students from a different culture, to learn more about the world beyond Australia.”
“I think it has greatly improved my language skills. In a class there can be pressure and there is a fear of making a fool of yourself. So some people can be really reserved and not participate in conversation. But when there is only a one on one connection there is more of a relaxed atmosphere and conversation can flow easier.” continues Ms Crawford-Lehman.
Shota Suzuki from Komaki near Nagoya in Japan believes that his English skills have greatly improved by having a language exchange partner.
“I like that I can learn English and teach Japanese after class, in a stress free environment like at a coffee shop. Also it's really good being able to talk to friends in a foreign language about everyday things like relationship issues, funny things that happen to you, what kind of movies and TV shows you like – it’s just like talking with your friends in your own country.”
But what about students who have not had access to initiatives such as the Language Exchange Program? One such student, Ms Valerie Tan says that for her moving to Tasmania and making new friends wasn’t that difficult, but that she does realise that for some student it can be quite a challenge.
“For the first two and a half years I lived in one of the colleges, and living in the college helped me to make friends. But sometimes, international students will stay within their comfort zone, with people they share common ground and can talk about common topics among each other.”
Ms Tan moved from Singapore to Hobart in order to study International Relations, in which she is currently completing her honours year. In the future she plans to work in Australia before moving back to Singapore.
“Here you can be exposed to international issues, opinions and views whereas in Singapore a similar degree would be more focused on domestic issues I think. Hobart doesn’t really have many distractions so it’s good for studying, a very nurturing environment and it gives you the opportunity to be able to study at your own pace”.
“The whole point of studying abroad is to experience another culture and I hope that in the future there will be more opportunities for local people to interact with international students”.
The Community Friendship Program at UTAS has been designed to capture the personal profiles of newcomers to the Hobart and Launceston Campuses, and to match them with profiles of carefully selected local students and community members from those areas.
“We foresee that participants will reap the rewards that come from the connections made with an open mind, offering a friendly smile, lending a welcoming hand and opening eyes to new horizons” says Mr Anning.
For further information about the program, or to get involved, send an email to:
Community.Friendship@utas.edu.au.
They’re not from Manchester, nor are they an orchestra. But despite their misleading name, there is nothing deceitful about the second full-length offering, Mean Everything to Nothing, from Atlanta’s five-piece indie rock outfit, Manchester Orchestra.
Opening with singer/guitarist Andy Hull crying that he’s “the only one that thinks I’m going crazy”, the album spirals into something resemblant of a whiny teenagers’ (quite prolific) diary from then onwards. There’s a real urgency in Hull’s voice, one that’s so strong throughout the album, it is as if at any moment he’ll fall back from the microphone and into bed for the day.
‘Shake it Out’ follows the opener, driven by a thumping drum beat surrounded in distortion that makes it tough to resist grabbing the steering wheel and doing as he says.
The brakes hit however when ‘I Can Feel a Hot One’ emerges from the distortion, and once again it seems a breakdown isn’t far off. The intensity of the lyrics is perfectly matched by Hull’s whimper, and the understated guitar gives the song a definite emotional heaviness.
The lyrics are dark, self-loathing and at times childish, the tone swings like a teen’s mood and Mean Everything to Nothing is a riot of distorted guitar insanity that’s too much fun to miss.
Else Powell interviews Trenton Smith of Hobart band The Trolls.
This is it, your first chance to write a feature, and you can tell it will be brilliant, even before the interview.
Hungry to capture the story of Trenton Smith, your hopes rest unflinchingly on an eighteen-year-old boy with a bass guitar, and a gut feeling that Trenton Smith, basest for Hobart band The Trolls, is every bit as unconventional as the rhythm he produces.
Trenton sits, back resting against the hectic mural of Hudson’s Coffee Shop wall, fingers drumming lazily on a sticky table with the easy comfort that occurs only in a workplace that has now become a second home. A first glance detects that uninterested, crumpled, half-asleep look of most boys his age, the look we all have before our first coffee. Yet Trenton’s already had three. You swallow your disappointment and, crossing your fingers around the handle of your own mug, pray that his coffee will kick in soon. Because there’s nothing quirky here yet, just a mellow boy with an immunity to caffeine.
You ask why he likes the bass and slowly a grin stretches itself across his face. Caffeine induced or not a buzz is now evident behind Trenton’s eyes. An original take on the ska and reggae characteristic of ‘walking bass’ allows Trenton to make his playing “a little bit funkier” than your average bass player. He starts explaining the ‘walking base’ jargon but quickly gives up, humming it instead in an eclectic rush that can only come from love, not three tall, skinny, extra shot cappuccinos with butterscotch. In any case you’re drawn into his passion for a rhythm you can’t quite understand.
There’s something contradicting about the casual mannerisms of the boy opposite and the highly charged rhythm behind both his eyes and guitar. Taroona High School teacher Michael Powell recalls The Trolls returning as old scholars to perform at the school. You ask of Trenton’s stage presence predicting the music to bring out in him a frenetic, caffeine-rush style of dancing. Instead he’s described as self contained, relaxed in his own world “as if in a trance.”
“I’m just in it for fun.” Trenton’s early musical endeavours show fun really is the basis for his quirky sound. At the tender age of nine, Trenton won the Mt Nelson talent show with his musical ‘ear farting’. But similar stage quirks from the somewhat mature Trenton are too frequent to be recalled. “That’s the problem,” offers band member Jason Graham “he’s like that all the time.” Suddenly it hits you. There is an inbuilt weirdness to Trenton that, combined with a self assured nature and an off hand sense of modesty does not need to be on show. “We don’t try to do weird stuff, we just sort of find it works.” Trenton explains, “It sort of reflects our personality.”
“I’m surprised he’s not a girl,” sister Morgan Smith confesses to the childhood sin of inflicting fairy costume dress-ups on her brother. Tou-tou shoved firmly back in the closet, The Trolls often support acts that dress one way in a rehearsal only to change completely for the show.
“We just don’t feel the need to. Metal bands, ‘emo’ bands: it’s all about the image. But with our sort of music I think it’s more about the music cause we’ve got no image at all.”
Minus an image and in abundance of weird songs, The Trolls seem a perfect metaphor for their basest. Trenton has an obvious dislike for artists who use music to express strong political or religious views. “They could play good music but when you start singing ‘praise Jesus or you’re going to hell’, I dunno, it starts getting sort of…” I think the word Trenton is looking for may be pretentious. Because there’s one striking thing about Trenton: he’s had ample experience in an ostentatious industry and pretension escapes his personality.
Ignorantly, you congratulate Trenton on The Trolls being part of ‘Triple J Unearthed’ and are informed immediately that anyone can upload their songs to the website. He pauses before sneaking a sly smile because “some person” (he can’t remember who) gave them four out of five stars “they liked our stuff… I was pretty happy with that.” Finally, you think you’ve pinned his casualness down to vagueness. He tells you he finds being recognised awkward; “they come up and go ‘oh you’re in The Trolls,’ like you don’t want to go ‘oh yeah I am’ cause it sounds really up yourself.” You realise you’ve mistaken vagueness for modesty.
Trenton tells you he’s recently had a bout of “throat cramp”. Morgan tells you he’s a hypochondriac. Regardless of who is right, there’s no doubting the strong friendship behind the playful bickering of the brother and sister. As Trenton retreats to singing along to the Hudson’s soundtrack Morgan laughs, “You know all songs, even the ones you hate.”
A family befitting a muso, all The Smith’s (except Morgan), have played either bass or drums at some stage. Trenton himself started playing an acoustic guitar but became bored of it. Upon finding his Dad’s old bass guitar Trenton “whipped that down and got a few lessons… it was excellent.” The chemistry of the three ‘Trolls’ benefits greatly from this early discovery although Trenton stresses “If you can’t connect as friends there’s no way you can connect as a band.” Despite having only known his band mates for three years, Trenton rarely sees anyone else “it’s kind of depressing really” he laughs but there’s no doubting these guys are “friends first, band second.”
Now working as a full time supervisor at Husdsons, Trenton completed grade 12 at Rosny College last year. Plans to travel at the beginning of next year are well underway for the Trolls. Trenton tells you he, Troll brothers Jason and Corey Graham and “whoever wants to come” will travel overseas to “relax, play a few gigs round the place. I dunno, just get out of Tasmania for a bit.” Momentarily his hands rest open palmed on the coffee table, marking his assurance that their motivation is “not to try and get big or anything, just to have some fun.”
It’s the absence of an image or the need to self promote that disguise the quirky in Trenton Smith. You write one hundred odd drafts, all trying to capture the weird, the mellow, the coffee and the music, none of them work. He may not have an image but there’s nothing average about the guitarist who prefers the more unusual Trenton to Trent.
“Gotta make up for my last name!”
Conditions is the spectacular debut album from four-piece Melbourne indie rock band The Temper Trap (TTT). From the evocative opening track, Love Lost, the deep thumping drums that permeate throughout the album combine with the incredible falsetto vocals of ‘Dougy’ Mandagi to instantly entrap the listener, not letting them go in the following 42 minutes.
Musically, Conditions is infectious, at times softly sweeping over the listener; at others confronting you with heavy bass, strong guitar, and pounding drums, which hold the listener throughout. The album’s lyrics have an understated simplicity to them, yet at the same time are incredibly emotive and evocative, stirring up powerful visual imagery in the listener’s minds. The listener can be easily caught up in the choruses and find themselves singing along.
Conditions has already spawned three singles: Sweet Disposition, Fader, and Science of Fear and yet still has several other tracks, such as Resurrection or Soldier On, that are both catchy enough and likely to demand enough radio airplay to be released as singles. Over all Conditions is unfortunately a short album, however, it fits together stylistically as a cohesive whole, allowing it to become one of those rare albums that one can listen to from start to finish over and over again.
If you haven’t heard anything from this album, head over to TTT’s website and check them out.
When the Hobart City Council voted down a proposal to place wind turbines on top of the ANZ building in the CBD in late July, with some councillors citing concerns the turbines may spoil the view of Mt Wellington, a number of thoughts passed through my mind.
When the Hobart City Council voted down a proposal to place wind turbines on top of the ANZ building in the CBD in late July, with some councillors citing concerns the turbines may spoil the view of Mt Wellington, a number of thoughts passed through my mind.
A few more went through my mind when HCC’s Darlene Haigh noted 'safety' concerns in her objection to the turbines that have been approved for the Marine Board Building.
I was mildly surprised that scene-scapes were now a priority after decades of successful attempts to damage the cultural amenity of Hobart with inappropriate development. Visual disasters, such as the proposed eleven-story car parks and the TV tower on the mountain, will, and have, made a much greater impact on Hobart's panoramas.
A quick straw poll of some friends confirmed what I already suspected – that if priorities are thus ordered, we are in big trouble. In a vain attempt to understand the merits of the council's decision, I attempted to place myself in the shoes of those who opposed this development.
This rapidly descended into a synthesised application of the HCC's amenity value criteria and the impacts of CO2 emissions if we don't begin adopting projects like urban wind generation.
In order to avoid rampaging onto the footy field of polemic and bursting through the match day banner, I'll leave Councillor Haigh's comments regarding the potential safety hazards of the Marine Board turbines to go and stand in the corner with Steve Fielding.
With the minor failure of wisdom inherent in the HCC's decision to make the point that despite the bulletproof consensus within the climate research community, and growing community concern, our policy makers are still ignoring the magnitude of the threat we face. Forget fiddling while Rome burns - most of our elected representatives are looking over at Sumeria and thinking how well things are going.
While Wilson Tuckey goes into apoplexy, the media laps up Barnaby Joyce's guaranteed fatuities and Martin Ferguson plays footsies under the table with big coal, the rapid disintegration of the climate system and all that depends on it goes on unhindered. I opened my climate news digest this week to the following headline: “Nile Delta: 'We are going underwater. The sea will conquer our lands'. Around 40 million people live there.
In Tasmania, despite some promising early signs and the fine intentions and hard yakka of some working within existing governmental frameworks (including the Tasmanian Climate Change Office and Associate Professor Kate Crowley), political progress on climate issues appears to have been relegated to the 'clever, clean and kind' dress-ups cupboard – to be used only in the event of a media opportunity (I think Lisa Singh's moped and David Bartlett's tredley are in there somewhere too).
As long as the government uses climate change as a PR opportunity whilst simultaneously asserting that Tasmania's contribution is so small to be meaningless, it will be difficult to make progress. There is also the in-some-ways-unfortunate fact that the climate change issue, by sheer weight of emissions volume, is intrinsically tied to the forestry debate.
The tendency to jump in the trenches at the first sighting of the 'F' word is sometimes a hindrance to progress on other issues. An illuminating example is that a cordial meeting I had late last year with Bryan Green to discuss climate issues resulted only in enlightening me as to Bryan's thoughts on where Richard Flanagan had gone wrong.
The sooner it is recognised that climate change will change the way forests are managed, and similarly that forests arn't the only climate change issue, the sooner we can get on with the job of emissions reductions (and the sooner we can be spared the kind of drivel spouted in fora such as that opus of Bernaysian logging porn, Going Bush, regarding how wonderful burning woodchips is for the climate etc.)
Some see the climate change issue as being a bit like some of those partaking in a late night Hobart waterfront session – if you look in their direction, you are asking for a rough time that you could well have avoided. But unlike engaging with those bleary eyed old mateys stumbling home alone, there are things to be gained from knowing the climate issue.
Many good people are already working hard on inspiring and educating the community, and creating concrete solutions. In Tasmania, people such as Margaret Steadman and Nick Towle, and groups such as Climate Action Hobar and the Waterworks Valley community are doing important work in activating the community. And for those who despair at the aforementioned actions of some members of the HCC, an example from my temporary home (Aarhus, Denmark) may prove an encouraging counter point.
In late September the Aarhus municipal council is expected to pass a proposal to make the city (of 300,000) carbon neutral (i.e. reducing emissions by as much as possible and offsetting the balance to zero) by 2030. And the nearby island of Samso has managed to reduce their emissions, by way of strong community action and government assistance, by around two thirds in a decade (to one seventh of the Tasmanian per capita rate).
Denmark is also preparing itself for the COP15 UNFCCC climate conference in Copenhagen in December. There are worrying signs that this conference, seen as crucial in providing a framework for the way-behind-schedule-if-we-want-to-save-the-planet-and-ourselves cuts, may fail in delivering effective outcomes. Examples such as the united front recently unveiled by African leaders, and the combined policy demands between those nations and other large developing countries such as China, India and Brazil, provide some cause for belief in more positive outcomes, however.
And while not ignoring the current hot issue of the Carbon Pollution Reduction Scheme, it would be wise to call that debate for what it is – a sop to the public and a firm handshake to big polluting industries. We may end up with a horribly dysfunctional scheme which generates income for polluters, or we may end up with something worse.
Comedian Rod Quantock has just opened a new show entitled “Bugger the Polar Bears – This is Serious”. I'm not sure if we have time for that, however I would be the first to agree with Rod that this is indeed serious.
In the countdown to Copenhagen, we should be hoping like hell that the Danes have had the foresight to install one big begeezus sized wind and people powered panic button, so that the whole world will hear if the climate talks outcomes are rubbish. K. Rudd should hear it. Even Premier Bartlett and Cr. Haigh may get an inkling that there's something big happening
In the first week of October 1975, five Australian men were handed the biggest leads of their adolescent journalistic careers. By 16 October, they had been murdered. They were the Balibo Five.
After rushed goodbyes to loved ones, Channel Seven’s Greg Shackleton, Gary Cunningham and Tony Stewart, and Channel Nine’s Brian Peters and Malcolm Rennie, travelled from Australia towards the border of East Timor and Indonesia. Full of anticipation, they were pursuing a groundbreaking scoop; covering the imminent invasion of Indonesia into Timorese territory. Prior to the journalists’ departure, the Australian Government had given their support for the planned Indonesian invasion. But despite backing Indonesia, the Whitlam Government neglected to protect their own journalists by alerting them to the danger.
On 16 October, the Balibo Five filmed Indonesian troops crossing the Indonesian-East Timor border. The footage captured had the potential to change the course of history, and expose the Indonesian Government’s intention to forcefully take East Timor’s right to independence.
The details of what happened next have continued to be twisted and contrived for the past 34 years. According to witness accounts, the journalists, unable to escape the oncoming Indonesian military, immediately put their hands in the air and began to plead “I am an Australian, a journalist!”. The Indonesians responded by executing all five men. Despite the Australian Government’s immediate notification that the men were missing, they took no action.
Consequently, on 5 November, Australian veteran journalist Roger East travelled to the capital of Dili in search of the five men. A month later, Indonesia invaded the capital. Roger East, along with hundreds of Timorese, was captured and publicly executed. What followed was a web of propaganda from both the Indonesian and the Australian Governments that attempted to justify their actions, or in some cases, deny their knowledge.
Jill Jolliffe is an Australian journalist who has dedicated her life to gathering information about the cover-up.
“The 1975 failure to demand that the killers of the Balibo Five be brought to justice paved the way for Indonesia’s invasion of East Timor, resulting in the deaths of around 183,000 people, and the torture of another 10,000.”
Jolliffe was in Timor in 1975 and spent time with all six men. She is appalled by the Whitlam Government’s decisions.
“What sort of government would put the lives of its own citizens second to assisting an act of international aggression?”
Jolliffe has interviewed countless witnesses and yet the Government has never acknowledged her vast findings, which she has collaborated in her book Balibo, which Director Rob Connolly based his recent feature film by the same name.
Today, an alarming majority are unfamiliar with these events. Thankfully, Connolly’s film has once again shined the spotlight back on East Timor.
“I, like a lot of Australians, was horrified by what happened to the Balibo Five. How is it that five young men can get murdered, their bodies in a hasty burial in Jakarta, not even brought back to Australia … [Followed by] 34 years of lying about it.”
Years of research went into the making of Balibo, which places the viewer inside the story of the six Australians. “I just wanted it to have a brutal honesty. So that it was like you were there,” Connolly said.
After the film was released, an article was published in The Jakarta Post, in which Foreign Ministry spokesman Teuku Faizasyah stated, “We have to look at the case according to the facts, not a film script … Is the film based on facts, or on the filmmaker’s imagination? We consider the film as fiction.”
Connolly laughed as he told me about reading the article, “It’s to be expected”.
So how is it that neither government has ever been held accountable?
Two weeks after the opening of the film Balibo, The Australian published an article entitled Diplomat hits media for journos' deaths. In the article, ex-diplomat Richard Woolcott, Australia’s ambassador to Jakarta in 1975, was quoted. Woolcott gallantly called for the accountability of the news organizations connected to the Balibo five. "The ABC left, and others left," Mr Woolcott said. "I think proprietors (of the TV stations) bear a heavy responsibility that they've never had to shoulder."
In 1975, journalists were responsible for going to the battlefront and reporting first hand. However, today “most journalists when they go to the battlefront are embedded” UTAS Asian Studies lecturer Peter Jones said.
“This is the new American word – you are in the middle of the platoon with an armoured car, you just get fed the information. Where as before, journos would go to a conflict area and be able to independently report. But no Government wants that.”
While the Balibo Five did expect to encounter conflict, the Australian Government’s decision to withhold information about the invasion meant they were unaware of scale of the danger.
The more disturbing part of The Australian article is when Woolcott reinforced propaganda that was visible in 1975. Firstly, that East Timor’s first independent Government party, known as Fretilin, was a communist organisation. Secondly, that the Balibo Five were mistaken for Fretilin forces and accidentally killed in “the heat of battle”.
The article states;
“Mr Woolcott, who is yet to see the film, said ‘they always show that flag [referring to the Australian flag the five had painted on the wall of a building in Balibo Square, clearly seen at the time of the murder]. They never show the other side of the door, which had a Fretilin (communist) flag on it.’ He said the Indonesians ‘would have regarded (the reporters) as combatants because of their close association with Fretilin’.”
Woolcott’s stance that the journalists had a link with the communist Timorese forces sadly demonstrates nothing has changed in 34 years. The Balibo Five were murdered during the height of the Cold War, and in seeking support from the West, the Indonesian Government claimed Fretilin were communists.
On 5 February 2007, Magistrate Dorelle Pinch began an inquest into the deaths of the Balibo Five in the Glebe Coroner’s Court in Sydney. Connolly, who was a constant attendee at the inquest said, “The coroner … said that she couldn’t find one witness that [said] they died in cross fire, not one. Yet she could find dozens of witnesses to their murder”.
Pinch’s official findings stated “the Balibo five died at Balibo in Timor-Leste from wounds sustained when shot and/or stabbed deliberately and not in the heart of battle”.
She made clear recommendations to the Australian Commonwealth Government that criminal proceedings against the alleged perpetrators be commenced. These recommendations have been ignored.
When I asked Connolly what he found the most emotionally difficult aspect of the 1975 events to re-create, he immediately replied “the massacre on Dili Wharf”.
“Hundreds of people were rounded up and executed, a whole row of them shot one after the other…the murder of five men is terrible and horrific, but to take hundreds of women, men, Chinese Timorese, Roger East, and just line them up and just shoot them all; what are you trying to achieve as a military invasion?”
While a memorial service was being held in Jakarta for the Balibo Five, Indonesian troops invaded the capital of Dili and a sixth Australian journalist, Roger East, was murdered. If you have seen the film Balibo, this event is re-enacted almost exactly to witness accounts recorded in Jolliffe’s book, in an incredibly disturbing performance from Anthony Lapaglia. It is horrific to realise this scene was not tampered with for dramatic effect. This is what happened.
Isolino J. Afonso Guterres is an East Timorese currently studying at the University of Tasmania. While he appreciates that Balibo will re-awaken a focus on East Timor and the events of 1975, he felt the film only showed a glimpse of the suffering of East Timor.
“They [should have shown] also how Australia and US backed Indonesia to invade East Timor, because without the support of Australia and US, Indonesia would not have done anything to East Timor.”
Isolina’s experience of the 24 years of Indonesian occupancy, which almost certainly would have been prevented by the Australian Government, is heart breaking.
“If you’re talking about East Timor, in the past, its all about sad. Because, if you have to see your sister be raped in front of your face, or killed in front of your eyes, what are you going to say? You pretend not to know anything, because if you keep your mouth shut you will live.”
It is true that Connolly has focused on the deaths of the Australian men rather than the politics behind the East Timor invasion, or the devastation that followed. However, it is clear that those parts of East Timor’s history are close to the Directors heart. In 1999 East Timor was granted a referendum and became an independent country. On their way out, Indonesia destroyed 90 per cent of the buildings and ruined what was left of East Timor. Connolly is dismayed at Australia’s role during that time.
“Alexander Downer’s role in ‘99 was appalling, a huge miscalculation not putting [Australian] soldiers on the ground during the referendum, it could have stopped it all – they would have had complete infrastructure, hospitals, schools, but everything was burnt out.”
This year, East Timor celebrates its ten-year anniversary of independence. However, the Government has never been held accountable, and the killers of the Balibo Five and Roger East still walk free. Hopefully, Connolly’s film will encourage change.