
02/09/2025
I celebrated the last day of winter with the West Papuans and friends at Docklands today. I learned for the first time their heartbreaking dissapointment, when the colonial independence that was within hands reach was snatched away, back in 1964. They still hope and work towards to becoming the newest country in the world, any day now.
The photos have stories, of the lovely volunteer freedom fighter ladies of melboune, the stowaway escape to asylum story, the succulent cuisine story, and a call out for a teenage illustrator for a cheeky alegorical children’s book, cassawory and crocodile uniting against the common foe.
The betrayal story happened in 1964. The Dutch colonisers were in the process of withdrawing, and supporting the Papuans to be ready for independence. Thr whole celebration was lined up: a national anthem, their own new flag with the morning star, ministers reqdynto roll, everything a country needs. Then the Netherlands prince broke the promise his mother had made. A deal was done with president J.F.Kennedy, and west Papua was given over to Indonesian rule. Men with guns turned up. Passports were thrown into big oil drums and burnt, up in smoke.
It was one month from Independence Day.