Tim Watts (Gellibrand, Australian Labor Party, Shadow Assistant Minister for Communications) Share this | Hansard source

I'm very pleased today to rise and speak in support of such an important motion as we mark World AIDS Day, and I thank the member for Goldstein for bringing it to the attention of the House. It's almost 40 years since the first case of HIV-AIDS in Australia was recorded in Sydney. It was around this time—in October of 1982—as the summer drew closer and the weather grew warmer and everyone prepared for that inevitable wind-down and to spend time with friends and family over the holidays. They weren't to know that a spectre was looming over the gay community in Australia at that time—one that would devastate friends and loved ones for decades to come. What we now call HIV-AIDS had been first reported in the United States a year earlier, but no-one knew what it was, let alone what caused it or how to treat it. There were many names for it and many of them attached a stigma to the gay community and to gay men, in particular: gay related immune deficiency, or GRID; or just the 'gay plague' were common references at the time. If you talk to a member of the community or even a friend or loved one who lived through the epidemic, they will tell you of the unimaginable terror and dread that permeated in these dark times. They'll tell you of the fear that came from living in a world where you woke up every day wondering who in your community would be next and whether this would be the last time that you saw someone that you loved.

Now, of course, HIV-AIDS is not the death sentence it was in those times. While we don't have a cure or, indeed, a vaccine, we have made significant progress in the fight against HIV-AIDS. We have powerful antiretroviral medication to treat it and we have the latest advancement in PrEP, which has been supported by state governments in Victoria and New South Wales—truly a remarkable drug that has taken a lot of fear out of the community. But the journey wasn't easy, and we didn't get there overnight. Treating HIV-AIDS with the limited knowledge available at the time wasn't popular or even something that some doctors were willing to do. Out of fear, many HIV-AIDS patients were turned away from doctor's surgeries and hospitals.

The homophobia directed towards gay men in this period, even those who hadn't been diagnosed with HIV-AIDS, was a barrier to treatment and progress in fighting the disease. My family experienced this hate and suffering firsthand, and we, along with many others who experienced it, carry the scars of this period with us to this day—scars that will never quite heal. It was only the actions of a small group of people who refused to bow to this prejudice, who focused on the science and the medicine rather than the fear, that provided the hope and the will to find a way out of the crisis. The activists, particularly in the gay community, who stood up and said, 'This isn't right', tirelessly campaigned, despite the stigma, for government to listen to the experts and campaigned to educate the community. It's these people that I want to acknowledge and pay tribute to today.

Two people in particular were the shining light of the health response: Neal Blewett, the health minister at the time in the Hawke government; and Bill Bowtell, his adviser. It was Blewett who, on the advice of Bowtell, established the National Advisory Committee on AIDS and adopted an approach which was radical for the times—listening to those most immediately affected by the disease and giving them a say in policymaking on HIV-AIDS.

Blewett and Bowtell faced significant opposition to this approach. Bowtell writes in a brief account:

We were told promoting the rights (and responsibilities) of those with HIV/AIDS was irresponsible and would accelerate the spread of the virus. But it turned out that the reverse was true.

He went on to say:

… importantly, a new model for dealing with other diseases was created, and shown to work outstandingly well. It is a legacy of which we can all be proud.

As Bowtell said of Australia's response: 'It was bold, radical and right.' It's a response that has gone on to become a leading model for how we fight pandemics around the world.

An inspiring story of the time is that of Sister Angela Mary Doyle, of the Sisters of Mercy in Queensland. In defiance of the Bjelke-Petersen government, Sister Angela Mary Doyle secretly funnelled federal government money to the Queensland AIDS Council through the Mater Hospital. For this, Neal Blewett labelled the Sisters of Mercy 'the most altruistic of money launderers'. It was acts of courage, empathy and community like this in a time when fear and uncertainty divided many in our community that helped us get through to the other side.

So it is that we find ourselves marking World AIDS Day at the end of 2020—a year that has seen us grappling with a different health crisis that has also seen some seek to divide our community. Again we have turned to experts like Dr Bill Bowtell AO, now an adjunct professor at UNSW's Kirby Institute, to guide us with a response that is no longer radical, just bold and right—one based not on fear but on sound health principles. As we approach 40 years since the first HIV-AIDS case was reported we can't be complacent. The global death toll from AIDS related illnesses now stands at 32.7 million. We must continue HIV-AIDS awareness and prevention campaigns both in Australia and globally, particularly amongst our First Nations people. In our region, where there were 300,000 new HIV infections last year, we must continue to provide support in the form of foreign aid to our neighbours. The job is not over. We must come together to continue the work on both sides of politics to end HIV transmission in Australia.

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