At the Djab Wurrung Heritage Protection Embassy they ask you not to take photos of the sacred trees. Here, instead, is an artist’s impression.

This post is written in response to the Australian government’s plans to cut down 3000 trees, including 250 sacred and old-growth trees, to build a stretch of ‘duplicate highway’ on the Western Highway, Victoria, Australia.

4 September, 2019

Yesterday I heard the voices of truth speak at the peaceful protest camp of the Djab Wurrung Heritage Protection Embassy.

As I drove down the Western Highway, nearing the camp site, I could see a small group of casually dressed people engaged in earnest discussion with another group clearly defined by their fluoro-Visy vests, trucks behind them, at the ready. VicRoads.

What happened next is the power of peaceful protest. The ability to remain calm and explain facts. To everyone’s credit, this calmness pervaded on both sides. Finally, it was when one of the women supporting the Djab Wurrung protest pointed out, ‘You haven’t done your due diligence,’ that the group in Visy vests moved away.

The trees were safe for another day.

It seems that well-informed protester is right. Due diligence has not been done. It has been well reported both in The Age and other sources, that a 128 page report citing the importance of the cultural heritage of this area has been overlooked and disregarded by the Federal Government who approved the stretch of ‘Duplicate Highway’ set to remove 3000 trees, including 250 sacred trees and old-growth trees 600-800 years old.

Later that same day I heard Aunty Sandra, a Djab Wurrung Elder, being interviewed by the ABC. Again, calmly explaining the sacred cultural relevance of this area. She spoke of the sheer frustration that the government has not chosen an alternative route that is cheaper and does less damage. A former VicRoads adviser has openly stated, the current marked route can be avoided.

How many times has Aunty Sandra had to explain this? Over and over and over? How many times will it take before they listen? And yet somehow she maintains her dignity.

Calmness has a pervasive power. It is through calmness and stillness that the voice of truth can be heard.

That is not to say anger does not have its place. We are angry at what is going on. We are angry that something that seems so obvious was ever put forward in the first place. We are angry that given a new set of facts, given viable alternatives, the government still seems hell-bent on cutting down these 800 year old trees, destroying nature and culture. An environmental threat and a sign of an ongoing cultural invasion.

Yet anger does not need to translate to violence. This is what I teach my students - it’s ok to be angry. It’s your subsequent actions and behaviour – how you handle yourself- that counts.

If we look to the past, Gandhi, Martin Luther King Jnr – social activists who never caved into violence. They utilised ahimsa – respect for all living things and avoidance of violence towards others – to achieve the seemingly unachievable. Nelson Mandela moved from a more violent stance to an understanding of the power of non-violence, realising the truth at its core.

Back at the Djab Wurrung Heritage Protection Embassy, out there on the Western Highway, Victoria, it’s not over yet. Pressure needs to be applied. Go to https://www.facebook.com/Dwembassy/ to find out how you can call / email / write a letter to the relevant ministers to put a stop to this needless action.

Come and visit the Djab Wurrung peaceful protest camp and help maintain that crucially needed presence.

The camp maintains a calm presence to ensure these trees live.

Truth – Voice – Treaty

If you would like to know more about this issue, a very comprehensive article written by Sophie Cunningham, author of City of Trees: Essays on Life, Death and the Need for a Forest, can be found here: https://www.themonthly.com.au/issue/2019/july/1561989600/sophie-cunningham/djab-wurrung-birthing-tree

Many years ago, my family were touring the US, when we entered a solemn doorway, the entrance to the National Civil Rights Museum in Memphis. Housed above us was the very Hotel room and balcony where Martin Luther King Jnr had been assassinated fifty years ago - April 4, 1968.

As we paused at the ticket booth, my young daughter, only 7 years old at the the time, looked up at the tall custodian, his welcoming hand holding our tickets. She asked, ‘Did Martin Luther King achieve his dream?’

As her parents, we were astounded. She really had been listening to our stories of the Dreamer and The Dream, the man with a vision as enormous as this country we were travelling across! She really was taking in the significance of the place we were about to enter! And...was it ok to ask him that?

The tall custodian stood back. Then he laughed, loud and heartily. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Look at us now! Just look at us now!’ But suddenly the laughter halted. He looked into her deeply. His voice quietened. ‘We still have a long way to go. But look at us now.’

On the 50th anniversary of Martin Luther King’s death, we would do well to pause, take stock and reflect. Years on - why, oh why do we still have a long way to go? Why haven’t we got it right by now? Surely, oh surely, it just can’t be that difficult. Yet here we still are, in a world that needs to learn a better way.

There are choices people make in times of conflict and post conflict. To implement violence is a choice. Revenge is a choice. Yet those people who have held to the mission of non-violence, even through extreme circumstances, are those who have become the most respected; held within people’s hearts, globally. As we all well know, Martin Luther King was one such person.

The alternative choice, of non-violence, is often the less easy path. Yet to choose non-violence creates transformational change – both within and without. The conscious choice of non-violence reaches out to the hearts, minds and souls of others. This is the bolder choice.

Martin Luther King led a battle ‘fought not with guns and violence, but with ideas and beliefs.’ (Colin Powell). Millions fought alongside him.

Choosing violence is sure to bring change. Dead people, wounded people. Perhaps a change of leadership. People seeking revenge. None of this is transformational. It speaks to the ordinary, to the base, to reacting not responding. Of unconsciousness, not consciousness.

What we are seeking now is the extraordinary.

So we ask ourselves, how did he do it?

On the 50th anniversary of Martin Luther King’s death, let us remember his fight against poverty, against racism, against war, against a lack of freedom in all its forms. Let us remember his fight for equality. Now let each one of us fulfil his legacy.

Mira, a young Palestinian-Australian student in one of my Global Citizenship forums sent me an email. She wrote of a renewed attitude, an alternative to revenge: ‘If I did the same, I am no better than them, whether I have a right to revenge or not...My new (almost) Impossible thought is peace for my people and forgiveness to the people who hurt us, because I know not all of them wanted to. I want peace and rights to my people and my family and future generations of Palestinians and Israelis...I have yet to forgive them, but I have no interest in revenge anymore, but instead to work towards forgiveness, but most of all, peace.

Change begins with me. Change begins with us. Mira, at 16 years old, is living the legacy of Martin Luther King.

Martin Luther King’s dream was a dream for all humanity. Thinking back on our visit to the National Civil Rights Museum, and on my young daughter’s innocent enquiry, I am reminded of what Martin Luther King's god-daughter tells us:

‘You can kill the dreamer, but you can’t kill the dream.’

Thank you Martin Luther King for your courage, your honesty, your tenacity and your highly respectable leadership. And for your encouragement of us all.

Margaret Hepworth