The Thorny Hedge
It was the first week of a new decade and the results of the 2080 census had just been released. Liam Yapa was going over the data with a fine tooth comb. His particular area of interest was the Central Australian Territory since he was Chief Minister of the thriving community.
Established almost 20 years ago, the CAT or ‘Puss’, as it was fondly known, had been carved out of desert lands which back then were part of WA, NT, QLD and SA. The process of creating CAT had been one of the most difficult in Australia’s political history but the federal government had stuck doggedly to its commitment, seeing this as the best way to solve the decades-old problem of illegal immigration and refugee settlement.
Legislation had been pushed through parliament after many years of hard negotiations with the states involved and the wider Australian population in general. The old Greens Party was dead against it and fought tooth and nail to block legislation but the Coalition Government showed fierce determination and, with the tacit support of the Democratic Labour Party, took the proposal to a referendum in 2059 and the Yes vote had won the day.
The whole idea was to create an isolated territory where refugees fleeing from war-torn countries in such areas as Eastern Europe and South America could be dumped and given just the basic necessities of life to survive in the arid, unforgiving red centre. In this way, Australia could say that they were honouring their international commitment to take an agreed percentage of the unfortunate victims of conflicts in less fortunate lands and at the same time develop a part of the country where few Anglos would care to settle.
All this had come to a head some fifty years ago when the United Nations had started getting tough with those countries that had signed the treaty on the Status of Stateless Persons but had reneged on their commitments inherent in their roles as signatories. The UN itself became the target of emerging new world powers and suffered a huge upset which resulted in a reorganisation from top to bottom and even a change of name. It was now known as the World Council of Governments and was often snidely referred to as the WC by its strongest critics.
Seated in his office workpod located in the centre of New Alice, the CAT capital, Yapa scrolled through the data on his computer monitor and scribbled notes on a paperless jotter. At 48, he was one of the oldest first ministers in the country but the CAT needed a leader with a ton of experience under his belt and he certainly had that. He smiled to himself as he read the trade figures for the CAT for the past 12 months.
The annual census, replacing the old ten yearly one, had been introduced a few years back and was a wonderful tool, not only for seeing how populations fluctuated and their demographics but also for such things as the size of the workforce, the GDP of any given area, where more manpower was required and what infrastructure would be needed to move whole communities to newly developing areas, as was sometimes necessary.
He scratched the back of his ear with the stylus and began to think about the report he would need to start work on soon. He had to have it ready for the pre-budget meeting of State and Territory ministers where the level of Federal funding allocated depended on how well the individual states and territories had contributed to the National coffers. It was dog eat dog at these little get togethers and Yapa knew all too well that the 20 year establishment period for new territories such as his was practically at an end and the CAT would need to show that it had a sound fiscal policy, a healthy GDP and that it would no longer need the federal government’s assistance as had been the case from its founding in 2060.
Back then, the new Territory relied heavily on federal funding as it struggled with a huge influx of migrants and refugees. The housing and infrastructure requirements alone were mind boggling but the territory’s first ministers were canny businessmen with a grasp of political nous and good judgement coupled with good luck saw the CAT flourish within a relatively short time.
Yapa had been a junior minister back then and had set his sights on the First Minister’s position almost from day one. He was now in his second term of office as top dog and loved it. Every day brought new challenges and he thrived on finding solutions. It was he who had championed the idea of community language labs where residents from so many diverse backgrounds could learn to speak good basic English by taking advantage of the latest developments in neurolinguistics and computer assisted learning. He also encouraged the labs to promote and teach CATanese – a kind of patois which had developed in the Territory as a result of the mixing of so many different nationalities. But what made him proudest was that it incorporated many words from his own Warlpiri language and he saw this as a way of perpetuating at least some part of his indigenous culture.
Successive federal governments over the past twenty years had used CAT as the dumping ground for any newcomers whom they regarded as less than desirable in the wider Australian community. As if to add insult to injury, many non-CAT members of Australian society often referred to the new settlers as Pussies, an obvious reference to the Territory acronym. The official designation for CAT residents was Centralian but they suffered this superior attitude of other Aussies in the knowledge that they were not the first to experience such bigotry, however humorous and harmless it was projected. POMs and WOGs had borne the brunt of these insults for generations.
In the early years leading up to the new territory being established, the federal government had introduced the Thorny Hedge Policy which took its name from a speech given by the then Prime Minister, Bart Kramer. Kramer announced that the new territory would remain isolated from the rest of the country by the introduction of a virtual thorny hedge. His Thorny Hedge was couched in legislation which, among other things, restricted any CAT citizen from travelling to other parts of the country. Nor could they own property outside of CAT, were only allowed to travel overseas once a year and then for no more than 30 days unless they could show that it was an emergency. As a condition of their being allowed settlement in Australia, they were required to sign an agreement to work wherever the Territory government sent them and this guaranteed the government access to an enviable supply of labour, even for the most unpalatable jobs in the harshest conditions. These proposals, and many more, were aired over a number of years back in the ‘40s and 50’s leading up to the establishment of the new territory.
Since many of the proposals were in direct contravention of the UNHCR principles on the rights of stateless persons they were met with huge resistance from Trades Unions, student groups and welfare organisations and on more than a few occasions resulted in mass rallies and even riots. But the federal government claimed they had a mandate from the people to push ahead with what seemed like draconian measures, even for a society that had moved more and more to the political right. As far as the federal government was concerned, it was a case of “Take it or leave it,” and the UNHCR as well as many in the community, realised that however harsh these special measures seemed, the new settlers would be far better off than they would be by staying in their country of origin.
Liam Yapa was a happy man. He had learnt how to interpret reports and research papers during his many years in government. Quite apart from that, he had degrees in sociology and business management and had developed a good strong team in his cabinet. Now, looking at the census data before him, he felt almost like doing a little jig! The figures showed that the CAT was on track to deliver its best results ever. As he mulled over the figures on his monitor, his Personal Communication Device alerted him to an incoming call. It was Zain, his husband.
“I wonder what he wants?” thought Liam as he accepted the call.
Zain was almost 20 years his junior and they had been married just four years. Coming at the beginning of his second term in office, it had been a huge social wedding with even the Prime Minister attending. Of course, both men were high profile; the successful politician and the handsome young athlete and part time model who was second generation Centralian his grandparents having arrived from South America shortly after the CAT was established.
“Sorry to call you at work but I’m going to be delayed at this photo shoot for god knows how long. I thought maybe we could do dinner in the city instead of going home and eating at different times. Is that going to be a hassle?”
“No, mate that should work fine for me as it looks like I’ll be late too. I have to start work on this report for the Ministers’ conference and the sooner I get started, the better.”
“OK, cool. I’ll call home and tell Lulu not to bother with dinner tonight. She can take an early mark which will make her happy. I’ll call you again when I’ve got a wrap time here and we can decide where and when to meet. Love ya.”
Liam smiled as he disconnected and turned back to his notes. If he could produce a document that would show the rest of Australia how valuable the Territory had become in terms of GDP, backed up by the hard figures from the census, then that would be the first step towards his ultimate goal. Over the years he’d worked hard to develop a tourist industry that was the envy of many as well as mining and cattle industries that earned huge foreign income from exports.
Because there was so little infrastructure in the beginning, the CAT now had some of the most modern facilities in the whole country and enjoyed a high standard of living. All this contributed to his plan to announce his intention to begin lobbying the federals for more equality for his constituents. He wanted to see those old draconian laws abolished, more freedom for Centralians to travel, own property wherever they could afford to buy (and there were more of them able to afford the huge prices in the major cities), and a host of other things. He was willing to risk his political career on this bold plan to start overturning all the old prejudices by whatever means possible, to get rid of the thorny hedge that had put the CAT always on the back foot and make a new start.
“I can do it,” he thought, “We can do it!” and he immersed himself in the first draft of a document that he hoped would change the way the rest of Australia would see his Territory and the way that Centralians would see themselves. It might take years but he knew that someone had to start somewhere.
Two hours later his PCD sounded a call from Zain who said he’d be finished soon and suggested meeting for dinner at the new international restaurant just opened in town. The restaurant was on South Terrace overlooking the river and was called ‘Next Century’
“Hmmm, I like that name; very appropriate” said Liam in reply to his suggestion.
“Appropriate for what?” asked Zain.
“I’ll tell you over dinner.”