Australian Journal of Politics and History最新文献

In the 1980s, debate over inflation and unemployment in Australia promised to lead to new institutional priorities based on revised, corporatist principles. However, labour's functional capacity to influence policy, particularly anti-inflation policy, evaporated during the neoliberal era. Recently, new contradictions in the economy have emerged (as well as a new mode of accumulation, with altered production demands and political pressures), exposing lessons that remain unlearned from the prior stagflation years and permanent problems and incapacities for the contemporary polity.

This Research Note reports on an analysis of the speeches, media releases, opinion pieces, and transcripts of the utterances of both major party leaders, Scott Morrison and Anthony Albanese, during the 2022 federal election campaign. We undertake a reflexive thematic analysis of these documents to identify the key messages of the two campaigns.

In Australia's long engagement with space activities, the 1960s are singled out as a particular period of technological achievement. In turn, these achievements are often described as having been a potential foundation for an expanded Australian space programme that was rejected by the Australian government. However, these arguments, which might be termed a narrative of “missed opportunity” in writing about Australia's space past, are rarely made with reference to the archival record. This article argues that analysis of key decisions around space during the 1960s show that rather than being dismissive of space technology, the Australian government was cognisant of the potential benefits of space. It was supportive of Australian involvement when it met with broader national needs and willing to expend significant government resources in investigating and supporting space endeavours. Equally, it declined to expand Australia's expenditure on space when, like any other policy area, the proposals did not meet Australian needs, were poorly designed, or both.

The Whitlam Labor government (1972–75) is remembered for ushering in a new era in Indigenous affairs, with the move to “self-determination”, abandoning the longstanding insistence on “assimilation”. The new government intended to deploy the Commonwealth's new legislative power established in the 1967 constitutional referendum to bring in a range of reforms, responding to consistent demands from Indigenous leaders, activists, and supporters through the previous decade. Whitlam's campaign speech promised anti-discrimination legislation, provisions to allow Aboriginal communities to incorporate, and legislation of a system of land tenure. The government faced considerable political obstacles, ultimately curbing the ambitious reform agenda. Nevertheless, these initial efforts to conceptualise representation, recognition, and compensation laid important foundations for the current public debate about “Voice, Treaty, Truth”, following the Uluru Statement from the Heart. This paper explores self-determination through the path-breaking work of the Woodward Aboriginal Land Rights Commission and the establishment of well-resourced land councils as authoritative and legitimate representatives of Aboriginal people in the Northern Territory. The Whitlam government's willingness to experiment with power-sharing in the sensitive area of land ownership provided a valuable prototype for genuine engagement with First Nations people today, as Australia contemplates the failure of the constitutional referendum around a Voice to parliament.

One of the great unanswered questions of the Commonwealth Constitution is whether the House of Representatives and Senate are equal or whether one ultimately has more power than the other. The Whitlam Labor government elected in 1972 faced a Senate elected in 1967 and 1970. Despite Senate obstruction, Whitlam proceeded with an ambitious legislative programme through 1973 and into 1974. By April 1974, six bills appeared to provide a “trigger” for the use of the Section 57 deadlock resolution procedure in the Constitution. Section 57 provides that if a bill has been twice passed by the House of Representatives and twice rejected by the Senate, the Governor-General can dissolve both houses and an election is held. If the government is returned and wishes to proceed with the trigger bills, it can again pass them through the House and if they are again rejected by the Senate, the Governor-General can convene a joint sitting of the two houses at which, if the bill is approved by an absolute majority, it is deemed to be passed. Major obstruction in the Senate, including a threat by the Opposition to block supply, led Whitlam to seek a double dissolution, hoping to gain a majority in both houses or, failing that, the opportunity to pass the trigger bills at a joint sitting. The ensuing election saw the return of the Whitlam government in the House but continuing to lack a majority in the Senate. This led to the only joint sitting in federal history, in which all six trigger bills were passed. But there was a constitutional sting in the tail when the Petroleum and Minerals Authority Act was subsequently found by the High Court not to have been validly passed. This case is argued to have made s57 potentially unworkable. The 1974 double dissolution stands in stark contrast to the 1975 double dissolution, which is argued here to be its “Evil Twin.” There have been three further double dissolutions since 1975: 1983, 1987, and 2016, but no more joint sittings. In 1987, there was set to be a joint sitting on the proposal for an identity card, but this was thwarted on a technicality. So the 1974 double dissolution achieved the objective of breaking a deadlock but at the cost of revealing a way for a determined Senate to make s57 unworkable.

This essay examines a moment in Papua New Guinea's history when international advice about the country's future had particular weight. In placing rural areas and populations at the centre of policy prescriptions, the advice fitted neatly with the ambitions of the Indigenous politicians and business people who were taking hold of and shaping state power. Whether the outcome, an independent nation-state following a policy direction which intended to keep the bulk of the population in the countryside, could reverse the unemployment and disorder which had appeared during late colonialism remained to be seen.

In September 1993, the Australian media was abuzz over a Naval Board of Inquiry which investigated allegations of sexual abuse on the HMAS Swan. Following the Board of Inquiry and media coverage, the Minister for Defence Science and Personnel referred the matter to a new, broader Senate Inquiry into Sexual Harassment in the Australian Defence Force. This inquiry received 122 submissions and handed down its final report in August 1994. The HMAS Swan inquiries were neither the first nor the last major reports investigating abuse in the Australian armed forces. Indeed, media reports and new inquiries every few years suggest a cycle of serial epiphanies – to borrow a phrase from Aboriginal researcher Maggie Walter – about cultures of abuse within the ADF. Yet, what set the HMAS Swan scandal apart from earlier ones was: 1. The interest and interventions taken by the political class, and 2. That it centred on sexual abuse and the status of women in the Australian Defence Force (ADF). This article revisits the HMAS Swan inquiries thirty years later, exploring their findings, legacies and shortcomings. It explores why what could have been a turning point in the treatment of women in the ADF instead became just another inquiry.