Philip Ruddock (Berowra, Liberal Party) Share this | Hansard source

I do not speak on the motion on the national apology to the forgotten Australians and former child migrants with any alacrity. It is a very tragic situation that brings us to this point and, like many who have spoken on this matter, I intend to inform the parliament and hopefully the people of Australia of the circumstances that some people have suffered and continue to suffer. When I spoke on the apology to our Indigenous brothers and sisters I talked a little about the reconciliation movement because I think it is appropriate to remind people that the genesis of it was in fact after the Second World War in the organisation that a former leader of the Labor Party and, before him, his father was associated with—Moral Rearmament.

Moral Rearmament is a very interesting organisation. It has had a name change. It is now called Initiatives of Change and it has, over a long period of time, conducted what is euphemistically known as second level diplomacy. It works to resolve those issues that often divide people and can have tragic results. It played a role after the Second World War in bringing people together from Germany and around Europe. That was its genesis, but it later played a role in the industrial movements in some of the differences between employers and employees. It played a role in relation to Indigenous peoples. It had an active role in what was happening in South Africa. It is interesting that South Africa had a reconciliation commission, which functioned after the first democratic elections, which I witnessed, in 1994. In Australia I do not think it is recognised that a gentleman called John Bond, who is very much associated with Moral Rearmament, Initiatives of Change, has worked on the issues affecting our Indigenous people. He organised the last conference in Europe, which I participated in. He spent many years here in Australia promoting the concept of reconciliation.

A lot of us do not understand, as I have mentioned previously, that reconciliation has two parts to it. The first is an apology from those who may have been guilty of some very unfortunate activities or acts. But it also is meant to evoke a basis upon which you can move on together, and that is the concept of forgiveness. In relation to a lot of the issues that we are dealing with, there is a quest for apology but the circumstances that can give rise to the second element of forgiveness are often not there. That is something I am going to speak to today. I note that in the Sydney Morning Herald of 16 November there was a very interesting article by Hugh Mackay, the social commentator. He is a person I have known over a long period of time. He does not always agree with me, I might say. I once included him on an advisory committee for the former government. I do not know how much he relished that. But I have always respected his opinions. He writes:

It’s a sorry state of affairs when forgiveness is not the main objective.

He goes on to say in this article:

So we’re to have another … apology … This time, it’s the turn of the “forgotten children”—those who languished, and were often neglected or abused, in institutions …

He goes on to say:

No doubt an apology is called for.

          …            …            …

But there’s a terrible gap in this process that no one seems to be acknowledging. You can easily identify that gap if you ask yourself: what is the purpose of an apology?

The glib answer is that an apology is an admission of wrongdoing and an expression of regret for harm caused to another person by our actions or by our failure to act. We apologise to get all that off our chest, and who doesn’t feel better once that’s done?

But is that all an apology is about? Is that all we try to achieve when we apologise—feeling better? I don’t think so. An apology is more than a declaration; it’s not just a message we send to the injured party. It is also, importantly, an appeal to the injured party to forgive us for what we did to them.

An apology without a corresponding act of forgiveness is only half the story. If the forgiveness is withheld, the apology is left hanging in the air, like a gift you offered someone that they never formally accepted or thanked you for. Worse, an apology that is not met with forgiveness ends up looking like a solo performance: something we did to the injured party, rather than something we did together in the true spirit of reconciliation.

I think they are very, very telling words. He goes on to say of an apology:

Too easy, in fact: to say “we’re sorry” without having negotiated our way through to a meeting point where forgiveness can also occur is simply to have taken the first step.

It is in that context that I want to talk about some litigation in the state of New South Wales. The matter involves Shane Paul Nicholls and the state of New South Wales as the defendant. In this judgment, His Honour, Justice Malpass, says this:

The plaintiff was born on 3 October 1957 (he is now 48 years of age). Since the commencement of the proceedings, he has changed his surname to Bell.

He is the same person that Tony Abbott mentioned in his comments earlier this week. The judgment continues:

The plaintiff became a ward of the state on 21 February 1973 (when he was about 16 years of age). He remained as such until 1979 (when he was 22 years of age). He did not return to the family home.

It recounts how he was brought before the Penrith court, charged with being uncontrollable. That was in 1971. It continues:

In October of that year, the plaintiff was committed to an institution. He remained institutionalised till 1979. During this period, he exhibited … symptoms (one of which was nocturnal enuresis). He was still bedwetting at the age of 20. His appearance disclosed, inter alia, constant smallest of stature and excessive thinness. He was treated as being mentally retarded and his education was neglected.

… Prior to institutionalisation, he had suffered an unfortunate home life. He was one of eight children in a household of poor financial circumstances. He suffered, inter alia, sexual and other abuse … After institutionalisation, he had little contact with his mother.

What becomes apparent is that, while he was taken into care, little was done to address his circumstances—and this is in the time that I have been in this parliament. This man was committed in 1973, in a period in which I would have expected that some attention would have been paid in institutions in New South Wales to the needs of the young people entrusted to their care.

This litigation retails medical opinions about the way in which, in later life, conditions that should have been identified were found. I read here a letter from a Dr Ryan in 1993:

You can be assured that I am doing everything that I can to seek an early settlement of your claim. I have given advice to the Department that your condition should have been diagnosed when you were in the departments care.

This is a man of whom the judge says:

… when he was discharged from the wardship, he was functionally illiterate … he had few, if any, life skills. He has never held a serious job for any length of time … he is now realistically unemployable.

He is clearly a person whom we—our generation—failed.

What was this litigation about? This litigation was about when this man had identified that he had certain claims that might ordinarily be addressed through our legal system. Those who are dealing with these issues now in the state of New South Wales used legal remedies available to them to ensure that that claim could never be addressed. We all know what they are. They are statutes of limitation, which demand that even if you had no knowledge of any rights and entitlements to bring forward a claim, no advice that suggested that there might be a difficult issue that had to be addressed, if the time that has elapsed—in this case, three years—is too long, unless you receive a special waiver from a court, which has to be obtained in very limited circumstances, you have no remedy. The very point I want to make is that, at a time when we are seeking to apologise, there are people in this country, governments in this country, who have resisted any inquiry into their handling of these issues and continue to do so, who ensure that even the legal system will deny a remedy to a person deserving one.

If you cannot guess, I have come to know Shane Nicholls over a period of time. He is not an easy person to deal with. He is a person greatly wounded by what he has been forced to endure, and he does seek a remedy. I think people wanted to have him here in Canberra for this apology, but he feels the apology without at least some effort to get those responsible in New South Wales to address these issues is hollow. I do not know what the relationships are in these matters, but we apologise and he is denied a remedy. We say to him, ‘Are you prepared, having received an apology, to forgive?’ I do not like to say it, but, unless we are prepared to pick up some of the points that Hugh Mackay has made, in a lot of these situations we are not going to move forward.

I think the very least that is required in New South Wales is for those in authority—and for those here who can speak to those in authority in New South Wales—to say, ‘We will no longer use statutes of limitations to deny people the opportunity to have their claims heard and addressed on their merits.’ It is a pretty simple step but one that I think would, in the context of these issues, help some people to address those matters and move forward. Likewise, I see the resistance that has occurred in my state of New South Wales to an inquiry in relation to these issues. In the time that I have been sitting in this parliament, I have heard about the way in which people were physically abused—were wounded—by those who were entrusted to care for them. As it said in this litigation, they were not even given an education which would unable them to go out and get a job. Those in authority kept them institutionalised until 22 years of age and then tried to get them off on benefits so that, hopefully, they could survive.

I think we still have a long way to go in addressing these issues before some of the wounds that are there are healed. I hope some, particularly in New South Wales, if this speech of mine is read more widely, might recognise that they have some responsibility if they endorse this apology to take the practical steps to provide some remedies for redress. Equally, I think it ought to be clear to governments that this litigation—this case; I have it before me—was resolved by the judge simply saying: ‘Because of statutes of limitations, I have no basis upon which I can provide a remedy.’ I hope some people will take on board the pain that that sort of approach by those in authority evokes amongst those whom we recognise have suffered a great deal.

See this speech in context