We hardly need another holiday so soon after the Weeks-of-the-Long-Hammock and if (as we profess) it’s love for our country we could start by, well, loving the country. Then choose the flag that shows our country not our colonisers.
I’m fascinated that a nation so blessed by nature should treat her so badly, like the man who marries the loveliest girl in town then demonstrates his prowess by beating her to a pulp. This colonial attitude of triumph-by-domination is everywhere – most dramatically, just now, in the Darling River fish massacre. Although intended to exonerate, the cotton industry’s passive-aggressive response – “[we are] not responsible . . . and we are here to stay” – eerily conjured the red-faced bloke in the doorway rebuffing neighbours’ concerns over the sounds of violence. “Nothing’s bloody wrong, youse can all bugger off.”
The fish deaths, and our apparent determination to bring the mighty Darling to its knees, are not an isolated instance of greed, corruption or incompetence. It’s not one rotten apple. It is an entire attitudinal orchard – systemic, cultural and enduring.
Designed to enrich the few by impoverishing the many and enrich the present by impoverishing the future, it’s a system that is arrogant, selfish and childish. In a word, it’s theft. It’s the same attitude that made farmer Ian Turnbull shoot compliance officer Glen Turner dead for attempting to enforce a tree-clearing ban. It’s what enabled Tony Abbott to deploy God’s injunction to “subdue the earth and all god’s creatures” to justify ongoing use of coal-powered steel and aluminium.
It’s what impelled then water minister Barnaby Joyce, five years into the supposed implementation of the Murray-Darling Plan, to pretend concern over water fraud while also telling irrigators “we’ve taken water, put it back into agriculture, so we can look after you and make sure we don’t have the greenies running the show”.
I get it. In the country, the sense of freedom to do what you want on your own turf is primary. But it’s also a dangerous illusion, as evidenced by just how far this testosterone-addled mindset has taken us from where we need to be. It’s no longer a few Waltzing Matilda larrikins.
Our love of Ned Kelly-type audacity is dandy when Ned is the underdog. But the egalitarian justification for lawlessness was always a lie and when lawlessness becomes orthodoxy, when the bushrangers are running the show, larrikinism becomes its opposite – feudalism. In our case, it’s feudalism of an especially hypocritical kind, where fauxegalitarianism cloaks corporate theft on a mind-boggling scale.
Much of this is about scale. (White) Australian culture has always been speculative and exploitative, it’s true, but at first, smallness made it relatively benign. Just as Sydney used to be a cluster of spec-built housing projects but is now in danger of being destroyed by unfettered mega-developments, so the Darling River was once lined with small graziers, irrigators and residents (including 30,000 years of Barkindji people), all drawing water and sustenance. Now a few corporate giants have gobbled the lot, reducing the river to a puddle.
The driver is greed but, of course, greed drives capitalism. Normally what civilises that greed – growing gluttonous toddlers into decent adults – is government. That’s what we don’t have. Pass the buck as they will, the destruction of the Darling, like the destruction of Sydney, is an outright and abject failure of government.
Did I say failure? That’s too
mild. Call it betrayal.
If you saw the ABC’s Four Corners revelations in ‘‘Pumped’’ in 2017, you’ve heard NSW’s then-top water official Gavin Hanlon offer to leak classified documents to friendly irrigation lobbyists. You’re probably conscious of massive, enduring and deliberate water theft by upstream irrigators, filling their vast storage tanks with illegal water (and sometimes even selling it back to downstream farmers for a profit) while the river runs dry.
You may also know of more recent $20 million fraud charges against executives of a Goondiwindi cotton operation.
What you may not understand is just how far government has connived to privilege corporate interests over public and environmental ones.
At first sight the new 270km Broken Hill pipeline, completed last October to bring water from the Murray at a cost of $1.7 million per kilometre, makes no sense. Why do it, given the opposition from almost everyone including Broken Hill Council and farmers as well as environmentalists and scientists, and given that the existing, far shorter pipeline from Menindee is working just fine?
Working fine, that is, except when the government drains the lakes.
The government wants to ensure the lakes, now less than 5 per cent full, stay below 20 per cent. Why?
When the lakes are full, evaporation is 425 gigalitres a year, so reducing levels to almost nothing makes an on-paper saving of that quantum.
Never mind that the lakes are rarely full or that most of the water so released heads to irrigation farms to spread over an area half as big again where evaporation may be even greater.
NSW is 345GL short on its Murray-Darling Basin Plan obligation to deliver 1312GL a year back to the river. The lake-draining “saving” nicely covers this shortfall so they needn’t reduce flow to irrigators.
Meanwhile, farmers in Louth, NSW on the banks of the Darling cannot wash.
Is it a coincidence that the 2016-17 release of almost two Sydney Harbours (819GL) from the Menindee Lakes, with only 11 per cent of it heading to the river, preceded two boom years for cotton while NSW suffered excruciating drought?
Is it a coincidence that the new pipeline heads past two new mining projects?
A recent study completed for WWF sought to determine the threat posed by irrigated farming to the environment in selected river basins of high importance for biodiversity. The study identified a range of well-known agricultural products as the ‘thirstiest’ water users in these basins as in Table B.
A country’s flag symbolises how it sees itself and wishes to be seen by others. Changing ours from a stamp of imperialist dominion to an embodiment of our relationships with ourselves and our land might be just the jolt we need to open our eyes in time.
Yet in NSW Over the past 20 months, ‘‘the almost straight-line decline [in dam levels] is even more severe than the millennium drought’’, Davies says. ‘‘We’ve never seen anything like it.’’
Inflows in Sydney’s dams were 143 billion litres in 2018, compared with usage of about 587 billion litres, according to WaterNSW and Sydney Water. Those inflows were barely above the record-low of 136 billion litres in 1944, and a fraction of the long-run average of 1396 billion litres.
In a bit to alleviate voter backlash the NSW Government has recommissioned the Water Desalination platWhen it last operated – between mid-2010 and June 2012 – the plant supplied about 158 billion litres of drinking water. At full tilt, it can produce 91 billion litres a year.
Bye-bye Darling.