Transmigration to Irian Jaya/Papua and Melanesian Marginalisation

Politics, Regional History

The transmigration of people from one island to another in the East Indies archipelago had its origins with the Dutch colonialists. Stemming from the Dutch “Ethical Policy” towards its colonies, it was introduced in 1905 to relieve overcrowding in Java by moving people to the less densely populated areas like Kalimantan and Sumatra. The Dutch transmigration program was not fully implemented and thus had little impact on alleviating Javanese overcrowding. It was under the Indonesian Republic however that the program was reworked, first by Sukarno, and later refined by Suharto and extended to its furthest eastern territory.

The Central Highlands
The Central Highlands
The acquisition of the New Guinea territory (known variously by the Indonesians between 1963 and 2001 as Irian Jaya and Irian Barat) from 1963 was a godsend for the vexing dilemma of overcrowding. This applied overwhelmingly in Java but also in Madura, Sulawesi and Bali, and transmigration provided surplus land for poor, landless Indonesians. The policy has seen more than a million Indonesians resettle in West Papua either as sponsored Transmigrasi or as ‘spontaneous’ arrivals*.

The genuine practicalities of the goal of population easing aside, the ideological underpinnings of the government’s transmigration policy focused on the goal of assimilating indigenous people so as to forge a single, national identity (consistent with how the government sees Indonesia – as a unitary state) [‘West Papua Information Kit’, www.utexas.edu]. The Transmigrasi program was meant to absorb local Melanesians into Indonesian life, economy and culture (‘Indonesisation’). The heavy-handed approach and blatantly discriminatory practices of the government have had the opposite effect, serving only to sharpen the Papuans’ sense of their racial and cultural distinctiveness from the Asian newcomers [D Gietzelt, ‘Indonesization of West Papua’, Oceania, 59(3), March 1989].

imageThis sense of Papuan alienation from the centre was compounded by demographic factors, the steady, systematic rise in transmigrants has eventually made the indigenous population a minority in its own land**. The Papuans with their Christian or traditional native beliefs also found themselves outnumbered by a Muslim majority, an additional cultural gulf between the two ethically diverse groups.

With the transmigrants taking up residency in the province, especially in urban regions and around the mining and timber regions, the new jobs in construction, in extractive processes and in forestry have been distributed heavily in favour of the newcomers resulting in the marginalisation of the urban Melanesians in West Papua (previously I referred to Freeport Copper and Gold’s key role in this marginalisation).

imageThe opportunities flowing from resource exploitation went hand in hand with Jakarta’s policy of transmigration in Papua. The government seized the Papuans’ adat (customary land by right) to exploit the minerals and timber therein, at the same time decimating Papua’s rain forests and spreading deforestation. The consequence of all this upheaval was to deprive the traditional highland Irianese forest-dwellers of their only source of income. Uncompensated, they were forced to move to lower-lying poorer quality areas which were conducive to ill-health.

Despite the government’s repeated claims that, under the province’s new Special Autonomy status, Papuans would benefit from the transformation of society promised by economic development, the reality has been that the indigenous population has continued to be the excluded sector of society, denied status (the stigma of ‘primitiveness’, as tagged by no less an international personage than JFK, persists), missing out on the opportunities of employment and education, and finding themselves the primary target of the state security apparatus [J Munro, ‘The Violence of Inflated Possibilities’, Indonesia, # 95 (April 2013)].

In financial terms alone, the resettlement project has come up short. In the mid-1980s transmigration was costing the Indonesian government US$7,000 per family, constituting an economic disaster which has had the effect of worsening Indonesia’s national debt. And despite the scale of the transmigration to Papua, the objective of reducing Java’s population pressure has not been successful, as the island’s current (2015) population of in excess of 141 million indicates [MA Sri Adhiati & A Bobsein (Eds), ‘Indonesia’s Transmigration Programme – An Update’, (Jul 2001) www.downtoearth-Indonesia.org].

imagePresident Widodo formally ended the policy of transmigration to the renamed provinces of Papua and Western Papua in June 2015, but the required action has been all too late – the transmigrants have taken root in Tanah Papua in significantly large numbers and the program has already taken a heavy toll on the indigenous Papuans and their relationship with the central authority.

* the Indonesian government has been quite guarded when it comes to revealing the actual number of transmigrants to the politically sensitive provinces of Papua and West Papua.

** the change in the ratio of Papuan to transmigrant resident is striking – in 1971 non-Papuans formed only 4% of the province population, by 2004 it was 50/50 – such was the escalation in transmigration (by 2010 it was 51/49 in favour of non-Papuans) [research by Ir YA Ukago/J Elmslie & C Webb-Gannon, cited in S Tekege,’The Intentional Annihilation of the Indigenous Peoples of Papua by the Government through Transmigration Approach’, West Papua Media Alerts, www.westpapuamedia.info]

Aggrandisement & Exclusion: A Tempestuous History of the West Papuan “Mutual Benefit” Society Inc

Politics, Regional History

Freeport-McMoRan is a leading US mining company, dating back to 1912, when it was formed in Freeport, Texas, to mine local deposits of sulphur. The part of its wider-reaching history that is of most interest though, dates from 1967 when it went into business with the new Suharto (“New Order”) regime in Indonesia.

imageGeneral Suharto had recently overthrown Sukarno, the foundation president of Indonesia, and Indonesia and Suharto had something that Freeport wanted – seemingly limitless reserves of gold and copper located in the former Dutch colony of Western New Guinea. Since the early 1970s Freeport has mined enormous holes in the mountainous central region of Irian Jaya (West Papua), first at the Ertsberg mine, and when that was mined out, at nearby Grasberg. This (second) gigantic mined hole in the ground north of Timika contains the world’s largest gold mine and it’s third largest copper mine.

The Suharto regime was rewarded very generously for liberally doling out mining licences and concessions to Freeport and other US companies. In 1967, General Suharto still trying to consolidate his tenuous hold on power, gratefully signed a contract with Freeport very, very much on the company’s terms. Freeport Indonesia Inc was given a 30 year lease on the mine within a 250,000 acre concession. The traditional indigenous owners of the land were excluded from the consultations and received no compensation. Under the agreement Freeport was under no obligation to contribute to community development and there were no environmental restrictions on the firm’s operations. The deal “signalled the beginning of a complex but mutually supportive and beneficial relationship between the American company, the regime and its arm of repression (TNI/ABRI) that was to last another thirty years” (Denise Leith).

Freeport Indonesia became “an integral part of Suharto’s patronage system” (Leith). Within a government already synonymous with corruption, the President and his close cronies were all generously taken care of by Freeport. This was in addition to the official benefits to Indonesia of the partnership. So important was the US company to the Suharto regime it even assumed the role of a “quasi-state organisation”. As part of the quid pro qua Suharto provided the heavy security (ABRI and TNI) for the Freeport operation (funded by Freeport) necessary for the strategically vulnerable location of the mine.

Grasberg
Grasberg
By the late eighties the original, Ertsberg, mine was just about bottomed out, and the newly discovered Grasberg mine neatly filled the void, going on to yield massively more mineral wealth than Ertsberg. Suharto’s government was in a strengthened negotiating position as Grasberg blossomed and secured a percentage of the mine’s profits for itself. By the early 1990s the company was Jakarta’s largest taxpayer*, the largest employer in the province, and the source of over 50% of West Papua’s GDP.

As the profits rolled in very conspicuously for Freeport the corporation found it prudent to be seen to be giving something back to the community. From the nineties Freeport started for the first time to contribute to community development, building schools, medical facilities and houses, more job opportunities for the Melanesian population, in an attempt to cultivate an image of a benevolent, socially responsible, all-inclusive multinational.

The climate of graft and corruption redolent in the Suharto era did not abate after his 1998 downfall. A report by the New York Times in 2005 alleged that Freeport made payments between 1998 and 2004 to Indonesian army and police commanders totalling nearly US$20 million. The government also provided political protection for Freeport whose dodgy labour and environmental practices were in violation of US laws.

Freeport’s practice of bankrolling TNI to provide heavy security for the vulnerably located mine (at a cost of US$10 million for 2010 alone)** has proved to be a two-edged sword. The ongoing abuses of the police and army against Freeport workers and against OPM rebels has implicated the US corporation in TNI’s human rights violations. Freeport has found itself in the difficult position of trying to avoid the PR disaster of being implicated in the military’s repression of indigenous Papuans whilst having the need to maintain a high level of security for its operations.

imageFreeport’s environment record in West Papua has come under scrutiny. The corporation’s practices have been severely damaging to the local environment. Tailings from the mine have caused massive damage to 28 km of the province’s western rainforest, and a quantity in the billions of waste rock containing acid have emptied in the surrounding rivers and lakes of the district.

The Suharto era were the halcyon days of Freeport in Indonesia. Subsequent Indonesian governments have not taken a compliant attitude towards the Phoenix-based US minerals corporation. On the contrary they had been distrustful and quite vocal in their demands of Freeport. In the wake of the 2009 Mining Law Jakarta has called for a larger cut of the royalties and increased domestic ownership of Grasberg to flow to it.

The parent Freeport company for its part is less sanguine about its future in West Papua than it once was. In recent years problems have magnified for Freeport – metals prices have collapsed and are at a “historic low”, mine workers in recent years have gone on strike over wages and safety issues, and production was affected by the company’s conflict with the government over export duties with Freeport’s right to export in doubt.

Despite the current setbacks it is far from apparent that Freeport Copper and Gold wants to cut and run from its Papuan commercial enterprises, it is after all literally sitting on a gold mine! In fact Freeport is currently earnestly negotiating with the Indonesian Government for the extension of its contract in West Papua which expires in 2021. Nevertheless it is a turbulent time for the mining corporation – last month the CEO of Freeport Indonesia, Maroef Sjamsuddin, abruptly resigned only one year into his term, and less than a month after the scandal involving the speaker of the Indonesian House of Representatives, Setya Novanto, who was forced to resign for soliciting kickbacks from Freeport in return for an offer to extend the Grasberg contract.

Traditional villagers
Traditional villagers
The copper and gold extraction of Grasberg, together with the exploitation of other natural resources in western Papua, especially silver, oil, gas and forests***, have gone hand in hand with the dispossession and impoverishment of native Papuans. The loss of traditional lands without recompense has contributed to the parlous state of the bulk of Melanesians in the province. The stark figures of a 2007 World Bank report tells the story of their exclusion from the province’s wealth generation – 40% of Papuans still live below the poverty line (double the national average); 1/3 of children do not attend school; only one in 10 villages have basic health services. Moreover, the famine in 2009 resulted in almost 1,000 deaths from starvation.

New President, Widodo, has signally his intent to put more focus on the West Papuan situation. How Jokowi and his government handles the poverty-stricken conditions of disadvantaged, indigenous Papuans, and how Freeport contributes in this, remains to be shown.

* this continues to be the case, eg, in 2010 PT Freeport Indonesia paid out about US$1.75Bn in taxes and royalties to the Yudhoyono government.
** the ever upward spiralling cost to the corporation of safeguarding its property with hired security (itself an increasingly tainted liability for it) is another concern for the mining giant.
*** Freeport is far from alone in multinational exploitation of Papuan resources – the Tangguh natural gas to LNG project in West Papua province is a massive income generator for BP and its Japanese consortium partners.

Note: The present ownership of the Grasberg mine is divvied up as follows – Freeport-McMoRan Copper & Gold (67.3%), Rio Tinto (13%), Government of Indonesia (9.3%) and PT Indocopper Investama Corporation (9.3%)[www.miningglobal.com].

———————————————————

Glossary:
ABRI Angkatan Bersenjata Republik Indonesia (Indonesian Republic armed forces including the national police)
OPM Organisesi Papua Merdeka (Free West Papua Movement)
TNI Tentara Nasional Indonesia (from 1999, Indonesian National Army – armed forces minus the national police)

References:
D Leith, ‘Freeport’s troubled future’, 67, Inside Indonesia, Jul-Sep 2001

S Michaels, ‘Is a U.S. Mining Company Funding a Violent Crackdown in Indonesia?’, The Atlantic, 29 Nov 2011, www.theatlantic.com

P O’Brien, ‘The Politics of Mines and Indigenous Rights: a Case Study of the Grasberg Mine’, Georgetown Journal of International Affairs, XI(1), Wint-Spr 2010

‘Grasberg: The World’s Largest Gold Mine’, 24 Feb 2015, www.miningglobal.com

‘Biggest Gold Mine Keeps Working as Export Permit Expires’, Bloomberg Business, 28 Jan 2016, www.bloomberg.com

‘Indonesia parliament Speaker Setya Novanto resigns over alleged kickbacks’, The Straits Times, 16 Dec. 2015, www.straitstimes.com

East Timor Vs West Papua? Sitting on the Sharp End of Neo-colonialism in a Unitary State

International Relations, Politics, Regional History

Around 1978/79 I used to catch the 343 bus to work in the southern suburbs of Sydney. At that time I was working for a company that had the double distinction of (then) being both the world’s 9th biggest multinational corporation and the world’s 1st biggest industrial environmental vandal. On this particular day I was sitting on the bus thoughtfully reading a book by Australian journalist Jill Jolliff on Timor-Leste called East Timor: nationalism and colonialism. In the course of the bus journey I became aware of an Asian (Chinese-looking) guy next to me trying his hardest to read, over my shoulder as it were, the book I was engrossed in.

Suddenly, uninvited, he said to me, “why are you reading a book on East Timor mate?” Having invited himself into my personal space, he went on to voice his (popularly held view) that East Timor didn’t matter, it was too small, unimportant, no one cared about it. I asked him if he was Indonesian, to which he, shaking his head, quickly demurred. “No one cares”, he repeated and looked away.

imageAt that period it did look to all the world that the cause of Timor-Leste was a lost one. Realpolitik prevailed. Australia (at government level at least) had happily washed its hands of this troublesome issue, with Whitlam giving Suharto the green light for a takeover in their hushed up Yogyakarta meeting in 1974, and his successor Fraser, rubber-stamping it with his Government’s formal recognition in 1976 of Jakarta’s Act of Incorporation of East Timor.

No one, or so it seemed, cared about the micro “half-island”. The neighbours in the region, the great nations of the world, all denied the Timorese the right to self-determination. In circa 1980 the chances of Timor-Leste ever gaining independence appeared to be zero! And yet that is exactly what was achieved by the Timorese in 2002 when East Timor attained nationhood whilst still sharing an island border with Indonesian Timor-Barat (West Timor).

imageAs amazing, even miraculous, as this transformation was, advocates of a similar sovereignty for West Papua, a territory with much more economic viability and substance than Timor-Leste could ever have, cannot be as sanguine about its chances of achieving sovereignty and separation from the Republic of Indonesia.

When the Dutch former colonial masters of West New Guinea tried to counter Indonesia’s takeover of West Irian in 1962, President Kennedy, in seeking to curry favour with the Indonesians as part of the US’s anti-communist Cold War strategy, notoriously dismissed the Papuans’ right to self-determination with the words, (they are) “living, as it were, in the Stone Age” … a self-damning perspective of the indigenous Irianese as being too ‘primitive’ to matter to anyone [D Rutherford in M Slama & J Munro (Eds), From ‘Stone Age’ to ‘Real Time’, (2015)]

Even Jose Ramos Horta, East Timor’s former president and the man who led the decades-long diplomatic fight to turn international opinion in favour of an independent Timor-Leste, has not given his support to the notion of independence for West Papua [‘East Timor’s former president Jose Ramos Horta says West Papua “Part of Indonesia” ‘, (23-07-15), www.mobile.abc.net.au].

Morning Star Morning Star

The justness of the West Papua’s case for self-determination, a genuine self-determination, not the travesty of one that took place in 1969 (the so-called “Act of Free Will”), has never seemed to grab people, especially in Australia the third party with the greatest self-interest in the large island immediately to its north, in the same way as East Timor did. Its lack of ‘sexiness’ has seen the issue limp along under the radar, never really exciting the passion of progressive elements in Australia, New Zealand, or elsewhere in the West. Of course the media has played a key part in this, not getting the message out of Papua, in large part not being allowed to get the message out – such has been the persistently tight control of Indonesia over press freedoms in the province [‘Press Freedom in Papua?’ (R Tapsell), New Mandala, 11-05-15, www.asiapacific.anu.edu.au].

Notwithstanding the overwhelmingly slim prospects of a sovereign West Papua happening in the foreseeable future, and the sense of fatalism this engenders, it would be instructive to look in some detail at how developments during the period of Indonesian rule over the province reached such a grim outcome.

Eyes on the Prize: Callan Park, a Modern Saga of Development Vs Conservation

Built Environment, Creative Writing, Heritage & Conservation, Medical history, Politics, Public health,

In 1976 the NSW state government consolidated the two mental health care facilities in Lilyfield, Callan Park Mental Hospital and Broughton Hall Psychiatric Clinic, into one body, called Rozelle Hospital (the word ‘Psychiatric’ was quietly excised from the name). Drug and alcohol and psycho-geriatric services were added to the psychiatric care and rehabilitation roles of the hospital.

A watershed moment in mental health with profound and long-lasting repercussions for Rozelle Hospital occurred seven years later in 1983. The Richmond Report recommended a policy of de-institutionalisation, moving patients of mental hospitals back into the community. From the 1960s, with overcrowding in state mental hospitals rife, there had been isolated attempts to deinstitutionalise starting to happen but the Report advocated that the government accelerate the process on a more systematic basis.

Stairs to a haven?
Stairs to a safe haven?
The Report’s blueprint advocated moving patients out of the psych wards and into the community at large. They were to be given support through a network of community-based agencies. As well, the plan was to open up new special units in mainstream general hospitals and accommodation facilities to take care of the needs of the former inpatients. In reality however these measures have never been properly supported by successive NSW governments, Labor or Liberal. Cynically but unsurprisingly, the parties in power have tended to manipulate the program to cut back on existing bed numbers and close wards in the mental health care system.

New specialised mental health wards were eventually opened, such as in Western Sydney hospitals Nepean and Liverpool. But the cost of caring for the former patients, providing them with the services and housing they needed once released, has not been adequately met by the authorities. As a consequence, the state’s prisons have returned in practice to a traditional role they had filled in past centuries, acting as de facto psychiatric institutions. Government research points to a high percentage of prisoners (90% female and 78% male) experiencing a psychiatric disorder in the year preceding their incarceration [R Pollard, ‘Out of Mind’, Sydney Morning Herald, February 12, 2005].

Derelict “Social Club” for the patients
A conspicuous side-effect of de-institutionalisation at Callan Park was the physical deterioration of wards and other dwellings on the site. As wards closed, their upkeep was not maintained and many fell into various stages of dilapidation, some were found to contain very significant levels of asbestos. In 1991 an extensive DPWS Heritage Study was undertaken by the Department of Public Works with every building, evaluated zone-by-zone, to determine if it should be preserved, repaired or removed. Bizarrely, some of the buildings deemed suitable to be demolished were in satisfactory condition and still being utilised, such as the NSW Ambulance Service!?! Many of the old buildings earmarked for removal were subsequently pulled down but fortunately, somehow the Ambulance building complex survived [‘DPWS Heritage Plan’, (1991), www.leichhardt.nsw.gov.au].

The fallout from the policy to deinstitutionalise continues to be felt in the community. NSW Health’s 2007 ‘Tracking Tragedy’ report identified that there had been some 113 suicides by former psychiatric patients plus a number of patients who had committed homicides upon release [‘Final Government Response to Tracking Tragedy 2007’ (3rd Report)].

A monument to Ward B patients or war? “Harbour Bridge” monument to Ward B patients or to war?

By the early ’90s the Kirkbride Block was being phased out as a psychiatric institution (the nearby wards however were retained for patient relocation) and a deal was struck with Sydney University (USyd) to lease it from 1996 as the site of its College of the Arts (SCA). The University then injected 19 million dollars into upgrading the facilities to make it suitable as a tertiary education campus. At the same time the nearby Garryowen House was repaired to become the new home of the NSW Writers Centre.

Uncertainty about the Government’s future plans for Callan Park led concerned citizens to form the Friends of Callan Park (FOCP) in 1998. Their concerns were well-founded as the Carr Labor Government in 2001-2002 produced a draft Master Plan for the land which included the sale of significant chunks of the site for residential development and the shift of psychiatric services to Concord – all formulated without having consulted local residents (this followed an earlier clandestine arrangement made by Carr to provide land in the Park gratis for a Catholic retirement village). FOCP and Leichhardt Council mobilised community support against the Government’s plan, resulting in a huge backlash from residents of the municipality.

Embarrassed, the state government backed down, ditched the Master Plan and enacted the 2002 Callan Park (Special Provisions) Act which guaranteed that the entire site would remain in public hands to be used strictly for health and education purposes only [‘Callan Park – a Tribute to the Local Community’, (FOCP), www.callanpark.com]

Later, Labor planning minister Sartor (again covertly) offered the the central core of the whole site (an area of 35HA) to Sydney University whose expansion plans for the SCA site envisaged increasing the student numbers to 20,000 and providing for up to 7,000 places in residential accommodation. USyd received a 99 year lease from the Government on the 35HA land. The University was planning to move the Sydney Conservatorium of Music from its present location in the city onto the Lilyfield site (the Conservatorium itself was very lukewarm about this proposal, as it turned out). This over-the-top development would have required 16 new buildings (some up to 4 storeys high!) to be built, which would have been a breach of the 2002 Act. Again, after a backlash and significant pushback from the public, the Government backed down [Sydney Morning Herald, October 21, 2002; Inner West Courier, November 6, 2007] (see also PostScript].

Recently USyd has been murmuring about the prospect of pulling out of the Rozelle campus, citing financial difficulties as the reason. It has already flagged its intention to move the Fine Arts School to the main Camperdown site [‘Sydney University abandons art school at Callan Park’, Sydney Morning Herald, November 25, 2015]. The uncertainty about Callan Park’s future has prompted critics like FOCP to suggest that the Baird Government may follow the same path as Labor did in trying to sell off part of the site for commercial gain. FOCP has accused the Government of taking a “demolition by neglect” approach to Callan Park, this will be a fait accompli, they contend, especially if USyd leaves Rozelle as the buildings will no longer be maintained and inevitably fall into disrepair [‘Callan Park in danger of being “demolished by neglect”, (23-04-15), www.altmedia.net.au].

New uses for old buildings

New uses for old buildings

The next signpost in the Callan Park story occurred in May 2008 when the Government moved the psychiatric patients out of Broughton Hall and relocated them at a new, purpose-built psychiatric unit at Concord Hospital, six kilometres down the Parramatta River. The Friends of Callan Park had campaigned to retain the psychiatric facility, the late Dr Jean Lennane advocated that, rather than closing down Callan Park, the bed numbers needed to be increased as deinstitutionalisation had led to an increase in homelessness among the mentally ill, or had seen them end up ‘warehoused’ in gaols, or tragically, dead, after being turned out. FOCP also called for an extension of outdoor recreational activities available to the patients, eg, establishment of a city farm on the grounds with the patients tending the animals as part of their therapuetic regime.

Leichhardt Council also voiced its disapproval of the Government’s plans for Callan Park. Despite the chorus of opposition, the NSW Government went ahead with the closures. The Council persisted with its criticisms and the NSW Government in late 2008 granted the Council care, control and management of 40 hectares of Callan Park (roughly two-thirds of the area) under a 99 year lease (previously the “physical fabric” of Callan Park as a whole had been managed by the Sydney Harbour Foreshore Authority (SHFA) on behalf of the Government)

[http://callanparkyourplan.com.au/]

Sensing the need to be more proactive, Leichhardt Council prepared its own “Master Plan” for Callan Park, which, in a poll conducted by the Council, elicited 87% approval from municipality residents. The plan provides for greater use of the land for a broad cross-section of the community, with new sporting fields and skate parks and other activities.

The land and structures of Callan Park continue to be owned by the NSW Government now under the agency of the NSW Office of Environment and Heritage (although the SHFA website still confusingly lists Callan Park on its website as one of the “places we manage” [www.shfa.nsw.gov.au]). Some of the wards and halls (those remaining ones not riddled with asbestos) get rented out for film and television shoots from time to time, one building permanently houses a film production unit (building Callan 201) whose management harbours its own designs to expand further into the Park and create an international film production hub (again which would be a flagrant breach of the 2002 Act if it was ever allowed to happen)[‘Premiere plan for Callan Park film hub’, (20-06-13) www.altmedia.net.au]. Other current tenants of Callan Park include the Ambulance Service and a host of NGOs, eg, AfterCare, WHOS, SIDSKIDS and Foundation House.

imageWith Sydney University’s future campus expansion plans looking elsewhere (closer to the city, North Eveleigh has been mooted as the spot to expand into) [University of Sydney, Campus 2020 Masterplan], Leichhardt Council seems to be running most of the debate currently. Very recently, the Council approved (over opposition from the Greens and Liberals) a motion to use the complex site to house some of the 7,000 Syrian refugees due to be settled in Sydney next year, ‘Leichhardt Council approves plan to resettle refugees at former mental hospital’, ABC News, 09-12-15, www.mobile.abc.net.au]. This produced a predictable if minor furore from some quarters of the community, demonstrating that land use in the area known locally as “The Lungs of Leichhardt” continues to be a divisive and hotly contested issue within the community.

PostScript: North Eveleigh trade-off
Frank Sartor’s biography❈ shed more light on the machinations: according to him the NSW Keneally Government secretly planned to compensate Sydney University for the ‘loss’ of Kirkbride by offering it the North Eveleigh site in Redfern for the new location for SCA. The deal fell through though because the North Eveleigh site was valued at about A$100 million, whereas USyd was only prepared to pay $30 million for it [‘Sartor: Keneally discusses plan for North Eveleigh with Sydney Uni’, Redwatch, [www.redwatch.org.au].

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❈ FE Sartor, The Fog on the Hill – How NSW Labor Lost its Way, (2011)