Papua New Guinea: Initiation and Independence
First published in 1976, Papua New Guinea was the first book to interpret the key events that led to the nation’s independence in 1975. In the book, journalist Don Woolford, a correspondent for the Australian Associated Press in Papua New Guinea, describes the ferment and excitement of the 1960s and 1970s, chronicling the former Australian territory’s political development from the first general election for a representative House of Assembly in 1964 through independence. Key figures in the transition, including Michael Somare, John Guise, Albert Maori Kiki, and Josephine Abaijah, make an appearance and their contributions are analyzed adroitly. Woolford’s access to these and other important individuals, as well as to literature produced for a moment that is no longer available, make this an inimitable and invaluable record of the remarkable years that led to the creation of the nation of Papua New Guinea.
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Papua New Guinea: Initiation and Independence
First published in 1976, Papua New Guinea was the first book to interpret the key events that led to the nation’s independence in 1975. In the book, journalist Don Woolford, a correspondent for the Australian Associated Press in Papua New Guinea, describes the ferment and excitement of the 1960s and 1970s, chronicling the former Australian territory’s political development from the first general election for a representative House of Assembly in 1964 through independence. Key figures in the transition, including Michael Somare, John Guise, Albert Maori Kiki, and Josephine Abaijah, make an appearance and their contributions are analyzed adroitly. Woolford’s access to these and other important individuals, as well as to literature produced for a moment that is no longer available, make this an inimitable and invaluable record of the remarkable years that led to the creation of the nation of Papua New Guinea.
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Papua New Guinea: Initiation and Independence

Papua New Guinea: Initiation and Independence

by Don Woolford
Papua New Guinea: Initiation and Independence

Papua New Guinea: Initiation and Independence

by Don Woolford

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Overview

First published in 1976, Papua New Guinea was the first book to interpret the key events that led to the nation’s independence in 1975. In the book, journalist Don Woolford, a correspondent for the Australian Associated Press in Papua New Guinea, describes the ferment and excitement of the 1960s and 1970s, chronicling the former Australian territory’s political development from the first general election for a representative House of Assembly in 1964 through independence. Key figures in the transition, including Michael Somare, John Guise, Albert Maori Kiki, and Josephine Abaijah, make an appearance and their contributions are analyzed adroitly. Woolford’s access to these and other important individuals, as well as to literature produced for a moment that is no longer available, make this an inimitable and invaluable record of the remarkable years that led to the creation of the nation of Papua New Guinea.

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781921902192
Publisher: University of Queensland Press
Publication date: 07/01/2013
Series: Pacific Studies Series
Sold by: Barnes & Noble
Format: eBook
Pages: 268
File size: 673 KB

About the Author

Don Woolford is a journalist who reported from Papua New Guinea for the Australian Associated Press.

Read an Excerpt

Papua New Guinea

Initiation and Independence


By Don Woolford

University of Queensland Press

Copyright © 1976 Don Woolford
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-921902-20-8



CHAPTER 1

Time Before


For centuries Papua New Guinea slept, undreamt of by the expanding nations of Europe. Over these long years the peoples slowly developed social structures and attitudes that the white man was to alter but could not erase. They were never one people. They appear to have come as a result of several migration waves spanning thousands of years, and to the differences in stock have been added the differences that the immensely varied terrain has imposed. The Tolai of the Gazelle Peninsula of New Britain is tall and powerfully built; the Motuan of the Port Moresby area is slim; the Highlander is short and stocky, the Trobriand Islander is the colour of milk coffee, while on the other side of the Solomon Sea the Bougainvillian is blue-black. The maritime tribes of the coast and islands are outward-looking people who sometimes developed elaborate trading patterns. The men of the Highlands tended to be inhibited by the immense, almost impenetrable mountains. For many of them the world, until recently, ended at the next ridge. The peoples developed intricate kinship structures and diverse rules governing land tenure and inheritance. The central feature was usually the extended family, which operated on a system of reciprocal obligations, now commonly known as the wantok ("same language") system Linguists have identified about seven hundred languages.

In the beginning the white men came slowly. The first Portuguese and Spanish navigators simply skirted the island, roughly charting its outline. They were followed by the Dutch, British, and French. The contacts were brief, occasionally bloody. Only the edges of the great island were touched. Holland made the first great impact on the island's history by simply drawing a line down a shadowy map. In 1848 Holland proclaimed the area west of 141 degrees east to be Dutch territory. This action, like others that were to follow, was done without concern for, consultation with, or even the knowledge of the people concerned. It was done to secure the south-eastern approaches to Holland's flourishing empire in the East Indies. But by that act a million people were to pass out of the history of Melanesian New Guinea and into the history of Indonesia.

The white impact on the eastern half of the island became more substantial in the second half of the nineteenth century when European expansion was at its height. The early contacts were unofficial: traders, missionaries, and blackbirders chasing profits and souls. German companies, largely offshoots of the copra empire being built on Samoa, became dominant on the Gazelle Peninsula, the first area of heavy white involvement on the New Guinea side. Australians showed the greatest interest in the southern half. In 1884 the island was partitioned. Dr Otto Finsch sailed along the northern coast planting German flags. Commodore Erskine sailed into Port Moresby and hoisted the Union Jack. The border dividing German and British New Guinea was drawn laterally through the mountain chains of the interior. It was a cartographic convenience, for no white man had then seen the country it ran through. The division, like so many being made then, was done in the chancelleries of Europe for European diplomatic purposes. The partition was completed in 1899 when, as part of a settlement mainly involving Polynesia, Bougainville became German while the rest of the chain of islands to which it naturally belongs became the British Solomon Islands Protectorate. The boundaries of what was to become Papua New Guinea were now settled; the destinies of many peoples, still unaware of each other's existence, were linked.

Australia was to assume responsibility for British New Guinea upon Federation. This it finally did, changing the name to Papua in the process, in 1906. Hubert Murray, the most important and enigmatic figure in Papua's colonial history, became Lieutenant-Governor, the post he was to hold until his death in 1940. In 1914, just after the start of the First World War, an Australian expeditionary force landed on the Gazelle Peninsula and, with the loss of five men, captured New Guinea. The territory was administered during the war by Australian military personnel and, after the post-war settlement, became an Australian administered territory under League of Nations mandate. The mandate was "C" class, which gave Australia a virtually free hand. The Prime Minister, Billy Hughes, regarded the arrangement as tantamount to the sovereignty he had originally sought. A succession of generals, none with any obvious qualifications for administering a colonial territory, headed the New Guinea Administration until the Second World War.

They were the lost days. Murray ran Papua with heavy-handed paternalism, doubt about the ability of Papuans ever to govern themselves, and virtually no money. But he did provide the Papuans with some protection from his more rapacious commercial compatriots. In wealthier New Guinea, where many of the German administrative traditions were continued, the planters, miners, and businessmen had a rather freer hand. They were the days of epic patrols into the interior to uncover gold, rich plantation land, and unimagined populations; of official Australian indifference so long as no enemy approached; of white enclaves vociferously demanding that the black be kept in his place; and of the blacks themselves, rarely considered except as units of labour, owners of land, and a shadowy threat to privilege — blacks bewildered and mute. They were also the days in which the different systems of government were to give added significance to the arbitrary boundary drawn through the mountains.

The Pacific war ended the era. Many thousands saw the white man was not all-powerful. The old masters and the new invaders competed for their loyalty. Many Australian soldiers were seen to be very different in attitude from the pre-war white, bringing with them a breath of egalitarianism which until then had not left home shores. After the war, with New Guinea a United Nations Trust Territory, the Labor government in Australia unified the administrations with Port Moresby the headquarters. A little of the wartime egalitarianism was continued under Eddie Ward as Minister and J.K. Murray as Administrator. Ward became known as Masta Pissim Pants because he refused to be carried on black shoulders from his boat to the shore, preferring to wade himself. Murray was derisively labelled Kanaka Jack because he invited black men to Government House. The Labor government fell in Australia and the Ward-Murray team was replaced by Paul Hasluck and Donald Cleland. Hasluck brought energy and an overall strategy to the Territories portfolio. He accepted the notion of self-determination, but believed it an almost limitless time away and, meanwhile, concentrated on development from the bottom. The enlarged Administration began making up for half a century of neglect in education, public health, and public works. But it was all so gradual. The emphasis in education, for example, was on the primary schools. While relatively large numbers of Papua New Guineans began getting into schools, very few went beyond primary. Elites were not encouraged. Despite the far greater efforts, therefore, men with the background to become leaders of a modern, black Papua New Guinea did not emerge.

Political advance was discouraged. The official policy was to allow change in accordance with the people's wishes. The people did not know what to wish and, prompted informally by official and unofficial whites, said they preferred the safety of the status quo to the unknown dangers of responsibility. The African winds of change scarcely touched Port Moresby and failed utterly to reach the Highlands. A dependency syndrome developed. Many whites were anxious to reinforce this attitude and oppose anything that could be construed as radical. The whites had a disturbing year in 1960. Disengagement in Africa was approaching its height, and the Australian prime minister, Robert Menzies, returned from a Commonwealth conference saying it was better for Australia to get out of Papua New Guinea sooner rather than later. Hasluck announced that the Legislative Council, a largely advisory body dominated by senior public servants, would be reformed with six blacks elected indirectly to it. Perceiving a challenge to their position, some white businessmen and planters formed the Territory's first home-grown political party, the United Progress party. With a eurocentric platform and a few respectable black members, the party had some success in the election of 1961. But the whites were too scattered, too thin on the ground, and too bedevilled by personal animosities, and there was nothing to attract widespread black support. The party did not see out its first year. The election was notable chiefly for the success of a Papuan, John Guise. For some years his was the only voice of black nationalism.

Guise notwithstanding, the dependency syndrome persisted. Grassroot demand was for more schools, roads, hospitals, bridges, and all the other marvels of the Western world rather than for more political freedom. Pressures from the outside were mainly responsible for the next series of changes, changes that were to lay the foundations for the movement towards self-determination. In 1962, while a select committee of the Legislative Council was considering future constitutional change, a United Nations mission led by Sir Hugh Foot (later Lord Caradon) recommended that a national parliament be established. It also called for a university, a comprehensive national programme for economic development, and an end to the last remaining major piece of legal discrimination, the ban on blacks drinking alcohol. Heresies in 1962, the recommendations were all accepted within a few years. The degree to which the Foot report was responsible for these changes has since been debated hotly. In most, if not all, cases they were coming anyway, but the authoritative report provided important impetus. Certainly if Australia had waited for popular black demand they would have come more slowly.

And so, in early 1964, Papua New Guineans went to the polls for their first national election. That election was the start of the movement towards self-determination. But the desire for responsibility did not immediately follow the granting of the appurtenances of democracy. As late as April 1969 the minister for territories, Charles Barnes, could still say he thought independence was twenty to thirty years away. And his conservatism was still supported by the apparent conservatism of the great bulk of the population. Yet four years afterwards the country was on the threshold of self-government.

The decade from the first general election was the period in which Papua New Guineans began realizing that many aspects of Australian rule were unsatisfactory and inequitable and that they had, after all, the capacity to govern themselves. They were also the years during which Australia itself began actively to disengage. The logic of these two related factors led Papua New Guinea to move with increasing rapidity from dependence to autonomy. Yet the decade, despite all the changes it brought, did not end with all Papua New Guineans facing the future with confidence in or loyalty to their new nation.

The decade is difficult to interpret. Until recently there was a widespread assumption among whites that traditional black society was inert and that the only dynamic factor was white leadership. This fallacy led to the comfortable belief that all Australia had to do was to provide the money, leadership, policies, and expertise and it could mould traditional societies into modern communities. But traditional societies, for all their fragmentation and primitive technology, had lives of their own. They moved, if almost imperceptibly to white eyes. When alien ideas were imposed they sometimes reacted in unexpected ways In some cases the old societies were so delicately balanced that the imposition of some aspect of modern life brought breakdown and chaos. In recent years the assumptions about traditional societies have been destroyed, most notably by the events on the Gazelle Peninsula. But it is hard to assess the degree of disruption, the strength of the resentments arising from the disruption or the relationship between a generally vague and ill-understood resentment and a conscious desire for political change.

Then there is the difficulty of trying to interpret events that occurred in a system which few of the main actors themselves understood perfectly. The House of Assembly, the Administrator's Executive Council (later the cabinet) and the public service were all Australian structures. Whites usually understood the rules; blacks generally did not. The blacks operated within the new system in accordance with their own backgrounds and customs. This led to observers misunderstanding black actions. Significance was frequently seen in actions that, to Papua New Guineans, were quite natural. For example, journalists used to make much of ministers in the second House occasionally voting against the Administration and to see in it proof of a split in the government. In Canberra, such an interpretation would probably have been valid. But in Papua New Guinea it usually only meant that the minister concerned felt his obligations to his electorate or to a friend were more important, so far as a specific issue was concerned, than his obligations to the government. It did not necessarily imply any abandonment of support for the government. It was, perhaps, a little like a team of rugby players who were expected to play soccer. The spectators, who had come to watch a soccer match, developed all sorts of theories to explain the eccentric behaviour of the players who, because they didn't know they were supposed to be playing soccer, thought they were behaving quite normally. Albert Maori Kiki, one of the more remarkable Papua New Guineans who will appear in this story, when asked to explain some apparently inconsistent political action, always smiled enigmatically and said, "That's New Guinea politics". The answer was both a gentle reminder that white politics are not the only sort of politics and a tacit admission that he was unsure of his way through the alien variety. This suggests that the only people competent to interpret Papua New Guinean politics are those with a thorough understanding of both the white structures and the black actions within them. Such people are rare.

There is also the problem of perspective. Most observers viewed events from Port Moresby. The capital, however, is not typical of the country. Its history of white contact is significantly different from most other areas. It is far from the main population areas. It is a rapidly growing cosmopolitan city in a country where most people live in villages. To most people it is remote and autocratic; the place, never visited, which gobbles up so much money and from where impersonal directives periodically issue. Yet Papua New Guinea is too diverse for any particular area to claim to be typical. And Port Moresby is, at least, the place where most decisions are made One can only remember that the issues that seem crucial from Port Moresby are not necessarily so important to the rest of the country, that the ideas expressed in the capital need not represent the views of the majority, and that the inequities and squalor that are so obvious there are unknown in many villages.

Even common terms are misleading when applied to Papua New Guinea. It became fashionable to describe Pangu Pati, the country's first viable political party, as radical. So, in the Papua New Guinea context, it was. Yet by most Third World standards Pangu's policies have always been middle-of-the-road, and as independence approached, some people began to see it as the party of the establishment. The Mataungan Association of the Gazelle Peninsula was always, in one sense, more radical than Pangu. Because Pangu was already identified as the country's radical movement, a stronger work, militant, was often applied to it. On the other hand about a million Highlanders were blanketed with the work conservative. Most of them were conservative in the sense that they expressed opposition to rapid political change. But it did not necessarily mean they were pro-Australian. In another sense the Mataungan Association was more conservative than the Highlanders. The Mataungans drew much of their strength from their support for traditional Tolai culture and their rejection of white political and economic structures, while the Highlanders often appeared anxious to tear down their old societies in their eagerness for an Australian-style economy. In general, in the Papua New Guinean context, radical applied to those who wanted relatively fast political change; conservative to those who, whatever their motives, wanted to slow this change down. As the decade proceeded this issue tended to dominate public discussion, obscuring other issues that in many respect were of greater importance to the emerging nation.


(Continues...)

Excerpted from Papua New Guinea by Don Woolford. Copyright © 1976 Don Woolford. Excerpted by permission of University of Queensland Press.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

Table of Contents

Contents

Illustrations,
Acknowledgements,
1: Time Before,
2: The Initiation Begins,
3: Bougainville,
4: The Gazelle,
5: The Big Men,
6: The Biggest Tok Tok,
7: A Party System Emerges,
8: The National Government,
9: To Self-Government,
10: The Constitution,
11: The Separatists,
12: The Economy,
13: Independence and Beyond,
Notes on Sources,
Index,

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