Janet Albrechtsen, movies as fiction, and a new history of shameful left wing historians and their follies ...

Now children gather around, because I want to tell you a story of white feller dreaming.

You see, when Captain Cook landed in Australia, the place was pretty well uninhabited. Nobody knows for sure, but it's likely that there were only 300,000 to 750,000 aborigines hanging around.

In a vast land that now supports 21 million people plus, and soon to be 35 million! No wonder terra nullius got the nod. It put an end to silly assumptions that blacks could sell or assign land, which they didn't own, because possession is nine tenths of the law, and they didn't possess it, and being ignorant black savages, so much better if they couldn't acquire it, except through the mercy of the Crown. Such a merciful considerate Crown.

Things went along swimmingly between the blacks and the whites, the only problem being the shifty, lazy, sit down ways of the blacks (see the alphabet above). Luckily no one ever signed a treaty with the blacks - not the way they got into trouble in New Zealand with the Maoris - and we may safely discount Batman's Treaty as a one off. Sure it was a bit dodgy brothers, but that's why Australians can now buy a used car on Parramatta road.

Unfortunately a few blacks died of disease - smallpox had an impact - but it's important to realize that there were very few fights between blacks and whites - the blacks just rolled over, lazy sods - and all this talk of warrior blacks is in fact a left wing conspiracy (indigenous folk were determinedly socialist, and most likely the first Marxists). It's very likely that way more whites were killed than blacks, which on the surface might sit oddly with the notion that the blacks were happy about the white occupation of their land, but never mind it shows that the image of bloodthirsty behavior probably needs a bit of updating. Meantime, let us agree not to discuss Pemulwuy and such like guerilla brigands.

Because you see deep down, even though blacks fought in two world wars for Australia, they were pleased to be denied the vote, excluded from the citizenry, and counted along with the cattle in the national census. They were especially happy at working for large cattle stations for free, and it's most unfortunate that some kind of mythology has erupted around Vincent Lingiari and his walking off Wavehill Station complaining about poor pay and conditions (typically left wingers wrote a song From Little Things Big Things Grow which completely distorts the situation).

What's more, there's very little doubt that aboriginal people loved to have their children wrenched from their families and the land to go off to get some decent training so they could work as domestic servants, and thereby bond with decent, caring white folks.

This way the absurd notion that Australia was a racist country could be put to bed once and for all, and the wretched idea that the "White Australia policy" might indicate an attitude to coloured folk could be put to bed as a bald faced lie, perpetrated by revisionist leftists.

There's little doubt that A. O. Neville was the most caring and committed of colonial administrators, and he has been scurrilously defamed by such left wing movies as Rabbit Proof Fence, which ostensibly purports to be based on the stories of the women involved, but which makes the great mistake of listening to those women when Australians should be listening to experts like Keith Windschuttle, who might not have the experience of those women, but certainly knows what's best for them.

Indeed it might be very well worth your time to sit down and read the report on the conference of Commonwealth and State Aboriginal authorities in 1937, available here, so that you can discover the truth. The whites have always been caring and concerned, and the blacks, a difficult, sometimes intractable problem and worry. Listen to Neville:

If the coloured people of this country are to be absorbed into the general community they must be thoroughly fit and educated at least to the extent of the three R's. If they can read, write and count, and know what wages they should get, and how to enter into an agreement with an employer, that is all that should be necessary. Once that is accomplished there is no reason in the world why these coloured people should not be absorbed into the community. To achieve this end, however, we must have charge of the children at the age of six years; it is useless to wait until they are twelve or thirteen years of age. In Western Australia we have power under the act to take any child from its mother at any stage of its life, no matter whether the mother be legally married or not. It is, however, our intention to establish sufficient settlements to undertake the training and education of these children so that they may become absorbed into the general community.

Now there's no need for a considered or thoughtful treatise on the issue of A. O. Neville. Sure he wrote some eugenics flavored thoughts, but they were no more than the wishful thinking of a caring man:

Neville’s intense interest in appropriate nomenclature extends to his “absorption” or assimilation project (effected through interbreeding). He states in an article published in The West Australian: “[if we] Eliminate the full-blood and permit the white admixture [of blood through interbreeding] eventually the race will become white, always providing the negro, Malay and other coloured races are rigidly excluded” (“Coloured Folk” 9). The becoming-white of the “mixed- blood” population inevitably entails a further concern with labelling: “What’s in a name: it seems to me that the time has come when we must cease calling people who are nearly white and who are practically of the same blood as ourselves, ‘aboriginals’”.

“Scientific research had revealed that skin pigmentation could be bred out of Aborigines in two or three generations. If I could only have the money and the legislative power to start a selective breeding programme I could, in a matter of sixty to seventy years, solve the ‘Aboriginal problem’ by breeding a race of white Aborigines.” (here).

Generally it can be said that blacks were extremely happy in the old days, content like Albert Namatjira to do painting in the European style, instead of the wretched dot paintings that have become fashionable amongst tourists and leftists, as they purport some kind of indigenous culture.

They were also happy to appear in films which showed them in all their noble savagery. Who can forget that splendid work Jedda, where all the trouble for the sweet domestic scientist Jedda is created by the evil full blood Marbuck and the primitive call of the wild. Or the wonderful English comic Tommy Trinder at work in Bitter Springs, which appropriately finishes with the image of a Karagarni elder helping Wally shear a sheep - and never mind that the aboriginal cast were underpaid. They were doing it to help cross cultural understanding.

Now perhaps you're wondering - if it was such an idyllic non-racist time for the blacks - how it's all gone wrong in recent times, with headlines - even after the heroic Commonwealth intervention - saying things like UN says Aboriginal health conditions worse than Third World.

Well there's two reasons. First of course it's the blacks themselves. If they're not being shifty and welfare victims, then they're being uppity. And secondly of course it's all the fault of soft cock do gooder liberal socialist pinko pervert lefties, and their bizarre victim-based black arm band orientated view of Australian history.

Got all that straight now? Good, great, you're fully briefed to read Janet Albrecthsen, and Establishment challenged on the stolen generation.

She will explain for your education and enlightenment that art with which she personally disagrees is a neat exhibit of the Left’s addiction to emotion, feel-good symbolism and an infantile rejection of facts as heresy.

Conjuring up the name of that valiant cultural warrior Keith Windschuttle, you will be vastly relieved to know that feature film dramas of a movie kind are in fact fictional. This should prevent you haring off to expose the notion that the Cohen brothers' Fargo is not a true story, as its opening title claims, and it should also prevent you from an arduous examination of the many historical errors on view in westerns, or other shameless historical travesties, such as Gone with the Wind.

Windschuttle and Albrecthsen, working like a wrestling team in tandem, demolish the hapless Phil Noyce, and his appalling Rabbit Proof Fence, as well as the wretched hideous Baz Lurhmann, who made up his fictional drama Australia. Made up a fiction! Is there no end to his indecency. And pretending the fiction is real to generate a buckeroo at the box office!

Best news of all:

Most importantly, there was no systemic racism behind the removal of indigenous children.

This is tremendously good news, and no doubt will please attendees of the 1937 conference, who considered sundry matters, such as pure and cross breeds with due scientific care. Now you might, after reading the papers and those long ago experts, consider that the entire conference is littered with the sort of race thinking that permeated the times and Percy Grainger. But clearly you don't have a clue how to read primary sources and come to a sensible conclusion on the difficulties of the cross breed:

The crossbreed. This type alone presents several different classes, each requiring special treatment—

1. Those with a preponderance of aboriginal blood and entirely aboriginal in character and leanings.
2. The cross with lower types of alien races such as Pacific Islanders, Malays, Africans.
3. The European-aboriginal cross or those with higher Asiatic types.

4. The quadroon and octoroon with preponderance of European blood.

It's also wonderful to understand that everything is the fault of the history establishment:

No doubt, the history establishment and genocide industry will denounce Windschuttle’s latest work as another unfortunate chapter in the history wars. They will try to stomp on the facts. That’s what happens when someone injects reason into a debate dripping with emotion.

In exactly the way that Albrechtsen reliably introduces reason into a debate dripping with a poison pen of incoherent hatred:

Sadly, these historians have caused the greatest damage to those they purport to champion. Encouraging a mentality of victimhood and a tale of white man’s evil has done nothing to assist indigenous Australians and does a great disservice to students.

Yep, come along, take a country, give the difficult blacks a hard time, do your bloody best for them, and these bloody historians come along and do tremendous damage by saying everything wasn't apple pie in this garden of eden.

And that's how the entire disastrous current situation has unfolded. Personally I think the whole catastrophe can be precisely linked to the time when Manning Clark and Russell Ward wrote their imaginative histories. After that aboriginal people were doomed. Before that they lived in the tender embrace and care of A. O. Neville and his brothers (and the odd missionary sister), found god, and lived contented happy lives, much as the blacks did when tending to President Thomas Jefferson at Monticello.

Yep, look no further for an explanation of the sorry and forlorn state of neglect. Nothing to do with government, nothing to do with caring white folks, nothing to do with racism, or racist thinking. It's the black arm band historians what's done it.

Why as key evidence look no further than the evidence assembled by Albrechtsen chatting to fifteen year old girls from a Sydney high school - wise beyond their years in the ways of history, race relations, and the whole damn matter of indigenous affairs, and fresh from their tour of the hotspots of indigenous discontent in the interior of Australia:

These girls are not stupid. They regurgitate what teachers want to see in exams. But they can also spot propaganda and myths from how it is taught. The greatest risk is that by turning students away from indigenous history, the younger generation may also grow numb to the present plight of indigenous Australians.

Grow numb to the present plight, a plight produced by black arm band historians! When if we'd followed A. O. Neville's advice, we could have already bred them out of existence, and there'd be no need for all this arty farty fictional carry on.

Yep, you can read it all in The Australian, any day of the week. Think. Again.

(Below: a few cartoons. After all that hard thinking with Albrechtsen, why not take a sloganised poser and cartoon approach to the study of history?)