Australia's past as an imperialist bully should haunt it forever

Below are four newspaper articles on the Nauruan economy and the consequences of selfish opportunism of some Australian governments, the most recent and notorious that of John Winston Howard.

Building a real rapport with Pacific Islanders
Cynthia Banham
7 January 2008
www.smh.com.au

It is time to reappraise Australia's role in the South Pacific. A new government here and in the Solomon Islands - a country with which Australia until very lately had a fractious relationship - affords such an opportunity.

Why is such a reappraisal needed? For one thing, John Howard left behind a rather mixed legacy in the Pacific. When it came to substantive policy, Australia had a good record in the last decade: a string of successful law-and-order interventions, a generous aid budget, a real willingness to help out with disaster relief, and great efforts in combating the scourge of HIV/AIDS, so prevalent in some of the island states.

But when it came to diplomatic style the Howard years were seriously lacking, and as a result Australia has been left with quite an image problem in our neighbourhood. Howard and his foreign minister, Alexander Downer, treated their Pacific Island counterparts with contempt, choosing to air complaints about them in press conferences and open letters to the public, rather doing as they would with, say, the president of the United States or the prime minister of Japan - and pick up the phone.

Imagine Australia's foreign minister publicly saying this of dealings with Indonesian politicians: "You don't want to do so from a position of weakness, you don't want to look weak and you don't want to look compliant." Yet that's exactly what Downer said - about Pacific Island leaders - in a national debate before the election, which was broadcast on ABC's Radio Australia throughout the region.

Moreover, imagine some other nation saying it of us. There would be outrage.

Yes, the Pacific Island states have their problems. But Howard and Downer's regular public disparaging of their leaders as corrupt smacked, to islanders, of double standards. It's not as if the Howard government itself was immune from criticisms of poor governance - it did, after all, preside over the AWB kickbacks scandal.

If Australia's prime minister and foreign minister treat political leaders of the South Pacific poorly, such behaviour can only seriously undermine the efforts of our diplomats on the ground, as well as Australia's influence in the region.

Kevin Rudd has shown signs he is willing to take a fresh approach. He has already met Sir Michael Somare, the Papua New Guinean Prime Minister who was banned from travelling to Australia by the Howard government over his alleged role in the Julian Moti affair.

If only out of self-interest from the point of view of Australia's strategic interests, a thaw in relations with our Pacific neighbours could not come any sooner.

The more fractured those bilateral relationships have become over the past few years, the more Pacific Island states have looked to the north for support - to China and Taiwan in particular. China, which unlike Australia does not place conditions on its aid, is now pouring hundreds of millions annually into the Pacific Island economies. As a result Australia faces a real risk of the Pacific Islands becoming staging posts for aggressive larger nations - something the Rudd Government is acutely aware of, and intends to make a focus.

During the election campaign Rudd announced two new initiatives in the Pacific. One is the Pacific Partnership for Development and Security, to tackle underlying structural weaknesses in education, health care, infrastructure, youth unemployment, as well as good governance and security. The other is an idea of the Parliamentary Secretary for Defence, Mike Kelly, a former military man. It's an Asia Pacific Centre for Civil-Military Co-operation. If there's one common complaint among senior defence figures, it's that too much responsibility has been placed on the military in past security operations in the Pacific, with not enough emphasis on nation building and training other arms of government in this role. This centre is meant to address that.

But is it enough to solely blame the politicians for Australia's image problem in the Pacific? What about Australia's education system? Despite having the island states on our doorstep, there is little teaching about Pacific cultures. There is therefore nothing to move Australia beyond the "us and them" mentality which underpins our Pacific policy and the patronising behaviour of some of our politicians.

One policy initiative which could help to dispel such a mentality and help the Pacific Island nations in a way that will have long-term benefits in terms of bolstering local economies and developing a mutual understanding between Australia and its neighbours is that of labour mobility.

Allowing Pacific islanders into Australia on short-term working visas, as their leaders have pleaded for and the World Bank has urged, was an idea rejected by the Howard government, and supported by Labor in opposition. Now the Rudd Government, amid concerns voiced by unions, will not commit to such a proposal, only saying it will examine a trial visa scheme being conducted by New Zealand.

NAURU has warned that the Rudd Government's plan to scrap its immigration detention centre could slash the nation's earnings by 20 per cent, leaving its economy on the verge of collapse.

Nauruan Foreign Minister Kieren Keke yesterday told The Australian that his Government would seek compensation from Australia amid estimates the centre's closure would cut the Pacific nation's $28.5 million GDP by a fifth.

Mr Keke warned Canberra to move cautiously on the shutdown and said Nauru would seek various forms of assistance from Australia - such as capital, skills training and immigration privileges.

Nauru would also ask Australia to consider turning the centre into a technical college.

"Removing 20 per cent of your economic drive in one blow without any measures to help compensate for that impact is going to see a fragile rebuilding economy take some major steps backwards, and put us at risk of collapsing again," Dr Keke said.

Nauru, which faced economic collapse after years of economic mismanagement and the near-exhaustion of its phosphate reserves, its primary source of revenue, signed a deal with the Howard government in 2001 to let Australia conduct immigration processing there.

Nauru receives $15million in aid from Australia, in addition to the $5.5 million that officials estimate the centre generates.

The centre was the cornerstone of the Coalition government's so-called Pacific Solution, which forced boat people to be processed in the Pacific rather than make asylum claims in Australia.

But the Rudd Government has vowed to scrap offshore processing, a move that has pleased left-wing activists but threatens the fragile Nauruan economy.

"Our hope is that the Australian Government, in taking the decision to end the current arrangement, also considers the impact it will have on Nauru, just as we're beginning to recover from quite a severe economic crisis that brought us to the brink of total collapse," Dr Keke said.

Dr Keke, who became Foreign Minister shortly before Christmas, said he had held informal discussions about the centre's closure with immigration officials on Nauru but formal meetings had not yet been arranged.

"We're preparing ourselves for talks to be held at any time, although we anticipate it will be later this month or early in February," Dr Keke said.

"The indication that (Immigration officials in Nauru) have given us is that Canberra is aware of the negative impacts that a closure will have on Nauru."

The Department of Immigration declined to comment.

The centre employs about 100 locals, who earn an average of $290 a fortnight - just $50 less than the Nauruan President's fortnightly wage of $340. Dr Keke said employees commonly used their wages to support up to four local families and the centre's imminent closure, coupled with dire employment prospects, would have a "ripple effect on hundreds of families".

"Employment is hard to come by on Nauru - these people are all very worried about what their future is going to be. Certainly, they're not going ... to just walk into another job," he said.

Dr Keke said his Government would ask Canberra to keep Australian immigration officials in charge of managing the facility during its transition phase and to make a capital contribution to transforming the centre into a revenue-generating facility, a process likely to take 12 months.

"There is the possibility of using part of it to accommodate expats working for the Nauru Government; a lot of them are living in the hotel because we don't have adequate accommodation," he said. "There's also consideration of using part of it to develop a technical college ... possibly as a sub-regional technical college that would also service neighbouring islands."

Dr Keke said he would ask Canberra to open Australia's labour market to Nauruan guest workers to offset job losses resulting from the centre's closure.

He said the fact Nauru had been "on hand to help the Australian government resolve an issue with illegal immigrants in 2001" should figure in the present Government's considerations in closing the centre.

Dr Keke said Nauru had received "a lot of negative press" for its involvement in the Pacific Solution, but had tried to make the asylum-seekers time in the centre "as humane" as possible.

"I hope that those people ... critical of Nauru's involvement in this do see we tried to play a positive part in something we happened to find ourselves in," he said.

MYRON TALEKA thought all his Christmases had come at once when he got a job as a driver at Nauru's detention centre more than two years ago.

The former telecommunications worker was hired on four times his previous pay and had $600 a fortnight to support his wife, six kids, his widowed sister and her children, as well as other relatives.

It's been a matter of pride that no one in his circle has gone hungry since he got the detention centre job.

Now Mr Taleka and his wife, Bernadette, face financial ruin because of the pending closure of the detention centre.

Nauru has no social security system and the Talekas have no idea what their future holds or what sort of lives their three sons and three daughters will have. "I felt helpless and shocked when I heard the centre would close," he said.

Nauru 's new president, Marcus Stephen, has asked Australia not to turn its back on the tiny island nation when the Labor Government finally abandons the Pacific Solution.

President Stephen said the economy would be plunged into crisis if the detention centre - estimated to generate at least $10million annually - was closed without extra Australian funds pumped into aid.

He said Nauru had done the right thing by Australia when it needed somewhere to process boat people. Now it was time for Australia to remember the role Nauru had played in managing a major immigration problem of great concern to the Australian Government some years ago.

The paint had barely dried on extra accommodation at the Nauru centre when John Howard lost office last month, signalling the end of his scheme to leave asylum seekers in detention in the middle of nowhere.

The centre now has 500 beds in 250 rooms, with more than 400 beds unused. It employs about 130 people, including 100 locals, who are paid at least twice as much as Nauruan public servants. Most of them support more than one family, and the imminent loss of their jobs in a country where jobs are scarce is terrifying.

Mr Stephen - a Commonwealth Games weightlifting gold medallist in the 59-kilogram class - said Nauru had always had a good relationship with Australia and he wanted that to continue. He said funds to support infrastructure and education were vital.

"There will be a very deep impact on Nauru's economy but we acknowledge Australia's decision," he said.

"It will leave us in a big hole financially. I hope the ongoing commitment by Australia [which gives Nauru about $15million a year in aid] will still be there and that it accedes to our request. If it doesn't we will feel deserted.

"I hope they acknowledge that we put our hands up when Australia was in need of assistance."

Mr Taleka echoed his president's plea.

"Nauru helped Australia and now we need any assistance Australia can give us," he said. "If they have any ideas we want to hear about them."

First the world plundered Nauru's richest resource then Australia prevailed upon its hospitality. Now, as the island state faces ruin, its people sit and wait for help, writes Lisa Carty.

Nauru is running on empty.

It is in the middle of nowhere; there is little there. The electricity supply cycles on and off because the power station is inadequate. There is no large water storage. Some families are breaking out in sores because their wells are down to their last few murky centimetres.

Even the Menen Hotel, where almost every visitor and most long-term foreign workers stay, cuts off its desalinated seawater supply from 10am until 4pm, and again from 10pm until 4am.

This 21-square-kilometre island has been denuded by the world's appetite for phosphate, which is used to fertilise gardens and farms, or as an ingredient in a range of cosmetics and toothpaste.

While this rich resource was plundered, Nauru earned a substantial income - easing the poverty of its 9000 residents. But times are desperate. Alcoholism is rampant, as is domestic violence and theft. There is no social security system to act as a safety net.

Phosphate mining, which began in the 1840s, has left the island peppered with pinnacles of grey-brown, coral-like rock - all that remains when the phosphate is taken.

As phosphate supplies dry up, a massive rehabilitation program, funded by Australia and New Zealand, is under way. More than 1200hectares is earmarked for levelling and replanting and, if all goes well, there will be a 45-hectare dam to provide water and recreation, and 28 wells across the island, some with potable water.

The phosphate was a legacy of the dead marine life that rotted into the coral when the island was under the sea - it is not, as legend has it, the result of Nauru being formed from seabird droppings.

But legend and hearsay count for much on Nauru, which has no newspapers, local or imported. Radio news comes from Australia, for those lucky enough to own a radio.

As the phosphate dries up, another important industry is grinding to a halt. Since 2001, Nauru has housed the people Australia does not want.. Beginning with the Tampa crisis and ending with the 83 Sri Lankans plucked from an Indonesian fishing boat en route to Christmas Island in March, the island state has filled the breach for Australia.

But Prime Minister Kevin Rudd is preparing to close the detention centre. The closure will leave 100 residents unemployed - and rob the economy of income that has fed and clothed well in excess of 1000 people.

Within weeks, the 74 Sri Lankans assessed as refugees could be winging their way to Brisbane, leaving behind locals who are desperate to know what their future holds.

"I heard a rumour at work that the Australian Government is thinking about giving the detention centre employees the opportunity to work in Australia. Is it true?" one worker asks.

I t's not easy for journalists to reach Nauru, let alone practise their craft. It takes ages to get a visa. The phones don't work.

When we make our inquiries we are told the foreign affairs minister is "off the island" - and no one knows where he is, or when he will be back.

In desperation, I leave a message for the president. He doesn't know it but he will be yesterday's man when I arrive a week later, having been neatly deposed in a no-confidence motion.

The man at Australian immigration is heartily amused when I say we are staying at the "five-star" Menen Hotel.

"Good luck," he chuckles. "Take toilet paper. Soft.. And Wet Ones."

I seek solace in the Lonely Planet guide to Nauru. Big mistake.

"Nauru offers little to the traveller," it says.

"Despite the colourful reef surrounding the island, the waters of Nauru are too dangerous for diving. Only one boat offers sport-fishing - if the owner's on-island and if there's fuel to run the boat, and if the swell allows."

But wait, there's more.

"Nauru is always hot and humid. Don't go from November to February. That's the cyclone season and even if you don't get a big storm it can still be unpleasantly humid."

Notwithstanding all this, I assure myself that Nauru has the potential to turn tourism into a big earner once the detention centre closes and those generous salaries are no longer circulating through the economy.

But any thought this Pacific island could be a travel destination for holidaymakers is short-lived.

After we touch down in Nauru about 4am and check in to the Menen Hotel, my colleague finds a naked man asleep in her bed.

The room has been double-booked - just one of many misadventures to befall us as we encounter "island time".

You want a knife and fork? The clapped out old LandCruiser you arranged to hire is missing? The hotel bus hasn't turned up, as organised, to transport you to the other side of the island?

The response is universal. A puzzled look, the hint of a frown, a long and lively conversation in Nauruan with colleagues.

When you ask "Where is it? Will it be long?", the answer is always the same: "I don't know."

G aining an audience with new president Marcus Stephen is no mean feat, even when it is pre-arranged.

During our four-hour wait, we sit in the foyer, that is when we are not popping into the nearby immigration office to see if officials have found my colleague's passport, which they seem to have lost.

It is not lost, they say. The man at the airport put it somewhere and the boss ... well, they don't know where he is but he'll be back soon.

"When's soon?" we ask.

"I don't know," the worker replies.

It is normal practice for immigration to take foreigners' passports at the airport so they can be stamped back in the office.

I did not ask why they could not take the stamp to the airport because I need to save my strength for the president.

While waiting for Mr Stephen we meet his deputy, Dr Kieren Keke, who shares the concern of most Nauruans about the future once the detention centre shuts.

The way they see it, Nauru was there when Australia needed a hand to deal with the tricky problem of asylum seekers - or illegal immigrants, depending on your perspective - on the Tampa and subsequent vessels.

Now Nauru needs help.

There are few employers on the island, which cannot do without the $10million the detention centre injects into its economy each year.

Dr Keke and the pint-sized president - a multiple Commonwealth Games gold-medallist in weightlifting - fear that Australia will shut the detention camp and pull out without a Plan B.

They hope Australia's $15million in annual aid will be complemented with greater infrastructure and education spending.

As the Rudd Government shows its humanitarian streak by vowing to get the last refugees out of the camp "as soon as possible", Nauru is asking: "What about us?"

What the people of Nauru most want to know is just how deeply will Australia's humanitarian streak run.