(From L, front) Australia’s forward Hayley Raso, Australia’s forward Kyah Simon, Australia’s … [+] midfielder Tameka Yallop, Australia’s forward Caitlin Foord, Australia’s forward Sam Kerr and (From L, Rear) Australia’s goalkeeper Lydia Williams, Australia’s midfielder Emily van Egmond, Australia’s defender Ellie Carpenter, Australia’s midfielder Aivi Luik, Australia’s defender Steph Catley and Australia’s defender Clare Polkinghorne pose for a team photo with the Australian Aboriginal flag prior to the Tokyo 2020 Olympic Games women’s group G first round football match between Australia and New Zealand at the Tokyo Stadium in Tokyo on July 21, 2021. (Photo by Yoshikazu TSUNO / AFP) (Photo by YOSHIKAZU TSUNO/AFP via Getty Images)
Karen Menzies was stolen twice from her family. By playing soccer she found a safe space and became the first woman with Aboriginal heritage to play for the Matildas, Australia’s women’s national team. Aunty Tarita, who played for the 1975ers, a team representing Australia at that year’s Asian Women’s Cup, can also claim to be the first Aboriginal Matilda. Menzies and Tarita were trailblazers: in the 70s and 80s, soccer was not seen as a women’s sport and their communities were marginalized.
Today, Lydia Williams and Kyah Simon carry the baton for First Nations players representing the Matildas at the Women’s World Cup. Mary Fowler hails from Papua New Guinea. Indigenous imagery precedes their matches, but organizers and world federation FIFA have been accused of indulging in empty symbolism by Australian Indigenous Football Council, Indigenous Football Australia, and Maori Football. Williams and Simon are part of a handful of indigenous players at the elite level and the lack of more visible role models narrows the pathway for indigenous players.
As a federation, Football Australia has little to no diversity, but last year the governing body established the National Indigenous Advisory Board, on the recommendation of emeritus Professor John Maynard, author of the book “Aboriginal Soccer Tribe.” At school, Maynard himself was bullied because of his Aboriginal heritage. He complains that the new board is a smokescreen without proper resources to do anything or implement meaningful changes at the grassroots level. The actions of the federation do not extend beyond scoring ‘brownie points’, in his view, even if it supports the ‘Voice’.
“Football Australia can, like all football codes, do better to create pathways for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people. We know that we are great sports people and when given the opportunities, we excel well across a whole range of different sports. The federation could do better than just the performative imagery,” said Karen Mundine, the CEO of Reconciliation Australia on the sidelines of Garma, the largest Indigenous gathering in Australia.
At Garma, staged in the remote Arnhem Land in the Northern Territory, the Voice was again in sharp focus, the referendum that Australia will stage in the second half of the year to decide whether Aboriginals and Torres Strait Islanders – will be recognized in the constitution and have a voice in decisions that concern them. With recent polls swinging to the no camp, Australia’s Prime Minister Anthony Albanese made his biggest pitch yet at Garma to persuade Australians to vote yes, accusing the opposition of muddling the waters and pointing out the urgency of the matter.
Yananymul Mununggurr, a Djapu woman, and member of the Dilak Council, a formal decision-making body grounded in Yolngu law and recognized by the, echoed the words of Albanese, calling the referendum “a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for the Aboriginal people across Australia,” highlighting that First Nations people encompass a vast tapestry of different cultures, languages, and identities all tied to the ‘homelands’. What matters to communities in Jigalong in Western Australia might not be as important to those in Yirrkala.
GULKULA, AUSTRALIA – Clan members of the Yolngu people perform the bunggul traditional dance at the … [+] Garma Festival, the largest gathering of Indigenous people in the country, on August 5, 2023, in Gulkula, Australia. (Photo by Samindra Kunti)
First Nations people have lived in the ‘country’ for at least 45,000 years, perhaps even as early as 65,000 to 80,000 years ago. The arrival of British settlers was devastating for Indigenous communities, with numbers falling from around 750,000 to just 93,000 by 1900. They suffered some of the gravest human rights abuses with Aboriginal Massacres and the Stolen Generations, the state-sanctioned removal of Indigenous children from their families. Today, Indigenous Australians comprise around 3.8% of Australia’s population, but on the ladder of social indicators like health, wealth, education, and unemployment, they score low.
But the yes camp has been on the back foot. Opponents argue that the Voice will re-racialize relations, and won’t help indigenous Australians with another layer of bureaucracy. The opposition is playing on the cost-of-living crisis to scare Australians.
“Australia has been in denial about the racism that underpinned colonization for over 230 years,” says Craig Foster, a former Socceroo and human rights activist. “We have really struggled to come to terms with the fact that, it was proven that First Nations people were the traditional owners of the land for many thousands of years in the Mabo case by the High Court in 1992. They had their own laws and traditions and therefore the two legal systems could coincide and live side by side. At the moment, Australia’s going through quite a torturous process. We’re seeing an immense amount of racism come out.”
Following a history of entrenched racism and segregation, Australians then face a moment of truth, a simple choice that will shape the country and generations for decades to come: will Australians pick truth and at long last take a major step toward empowering First Nations people or will voters prove ‘reconciliation wreckers’ and deliver a haunting portrait of Australia as a xenophobic nation?
At Garma, labor MP Marion Scrymgour asked, “What is the fear of allowing First Nations people to form their own paths?”
Marcus Lacey, a Torres Strait Islander, who watches the Matildas at times, went to a mainstream school where the history of his people was ignored and forgotten. “There has been a lot of pain and hurt, and [with a no vote] we will continue to be oppressed and be directed towards a destination where we’re not in control,” says Lacey. “We know about a man that came across from the sea to build a place on an empty land and on a land where he could master everything and claim everything without any conscience whatsoever. We have not been recognized, we have not been consulted.”
A local activist and member of the Gumatj clan, Lacey argues that “together history needs to be readjusted.” In many ways, his message is clear: Australia must do better than some superficial imagery and considerations, both in soccer and in real life.
