The lore of the tribe

Would lawlessness within some Indigenous communities today have reigned so freely in the old days?

“It’s a bit like war - they pick them up, bury them and then simply get on with things,” said Catholic educator Sister Helen Parer when asked to comment on 12 deaths over nine months in Aboriginal communities in Central Australia during an interview forThe Bulletin magazine (18/11/05).

The Bulletin reports that Aboriginal homicide victims are almost always alcoholics who live week-to-week on welfare. Victims’ families invariably have no money, so it falls to the coroner’s office to unlock the indigent burial fund to provide for a pauper’s grave. They get a plain box and a basic service. A headstone is not included. Then they’re gone. Erased.

Why?

Recently I had a chance meeting with a senior lore man who was happy to share some of his experiences and knowledge of customary lore with me and in so doing, inadvertently shone some light on my question.

I prefaced our discussion by saying that I was an academic and writer and asked if he would mind if I used some of his stories in my line of work. I added that I would not disclose his name or identify his traditional country.

He nodded.

The passion in which this steely wise old man told his stories left an indelible impression on me. I felt the hairs on my arm stand on end as he graphically recounted his first experience of witnessing tribal justice handed out by elders to one of his people who broke the lore.

“This young fella - he stole another man’s wife,” began the conversation that had my full attention. “The elders brought everybody together and the family members had a talk about what punishment he should be given.”

“Wow”, I thought to myself while sitting uncomfortably on a foreign riverbank trying to picture the sobering details of a dramatic and life altering event.

“They decided not to kill him but to hand out another form of punishment,” continued the old man without changing his tone. “Four spears, a couple of nulla nullas were placed on the ground and another 30 feet away the young man was given a shield as he stood alone.” I could hear the roar of a jet passing overhead but I was more focused on objects of a pointier entity flying a more direct path and awaited with bated breath for the story to unfold.

The lore man informed me that a group assembled around the weapons and without warning quickly gathered and started throwing them accurately in the offender’s direction. The young villain was a strong and highly agile warrior who deflected the rapidly propelled spears and nulla nullas with his sturdy wooden shield.

“When the last spear hit the ground the young fella rolled up his trousers and waited for the final punishment,” continued my cultured friend. “One old fella rushed him with a jagged-edged spear and shoved it into his thigh and then another old man walked quickly towards him and put a spear through his other thigh.”

So graphic was the narrative that I felt a nervous urge to flex my leg as I sat in eager anticipation of the next phase of this extraordinary rare glimpse, albeit 50 years prior, of Indigenous justice.

“The next thing I notice was this strong young man break both ends of the spears then he limped to where I was sitting and asked me for a smoke,” matter-of-factly continued the lore man.

“What happened next?” I probed.

“While I was rolling his smoke he grabbed hold of the first spear at the pointy end and pulled it through one leg, then he did the same with the other spear. He then walked to the fire and grabbed some hot ash and plugged those four holes - lucky bugger because if those old men wanted to make him suffer they would’ve only pushed the spear in half way.”

I was told that the woman who ran off with the victim was beaten severely by the women of the tribe with nulla nullas and killer boomerangs across the head, arms and shoulders. The end result was a broken collarbone, two broken arms and deep head abrasions. The injured woman was later embarrassingly reunited with her husband and family. Although a health clinic was within walking distance neither wounded member desired or accepted medical assistance.

The old man said, “… they’d been punished - the tribe was happy and nobody ever spoke about it again”.

I asked the lore man what crimes would fall within the scope of punishment by death and was told that “unauthorised killing, stealing secret objects from a sacred site and telling secret business to unauthorised people” would merit a fatal consequence. He added that death could come from a physical act or a spiritual (singing) performance by clever men.

“Arranged marriages” were the next two words I managed to timidly let slip in the hope of gaining a response.

“When a young girl is born the parents arrange a partner based on his skin colour (not pigmentation) and neither of the future partners know about the arrangement until after they’ve been through the business at around 14 for the girl and 16 for the boy,” came the response.

“Can an old man take a young wife,” I asked hurriedly as if on a quota. “He can, under my law - that young girl will be well trained in the traditional ways by his first wife over many years. But the old man can’t have anything to do with that young girl until his first wife dies and the same with a young man - an old woman can have a promised young fella too.”

And then without prompting the old man told me, “on special times, not often, the tribe allow some talented men to have children from more than one or two wives at the same time because they want the tribe to have that strong blood running through a lot of children - so the tribe can be healthy and safe”.

After an hour of the most inspiring conversation of my life I was overwhelmed and left without any doubt that respect for lore was the cornerstone of traditional Aboriginal lifestyle.

Sadly I read in The Australian, (26/10/05) of Terrence Laurence Dann who wants to be sent home to Derby from Perth to face tribal payback after killing his two stepchildren. “His 14-month-old stepson was the first to be killed, his tiny body still warm when police officers found him on the ground at the gruesome scene in the early hours of April 23. Screaming and struggling, the boy’s four-year-old sister was strung from the same tree - the little girl’s feet initially touching the ground, before Dann tightened the intricate knot, stood back and watched her die.”

Lawlessness within some Indigenous communities today would most definitely not have reigned so freely in the old days.