by Rhodri C. Williams
The BBC yesterday picked up on a curious piece of legislative news from Australia, with the lower house of Parliament having unanimously passed a bill presenting a constitutional IOU to the country’s indigenous population. In effect, the legislator agrees to lead from the front in seeking to drum up popular support for constitutional recognition of Aborigines and Torres Straits Islanders, and to act on that support as soon as it is there:
“I do believe the community is willing to embrace the justice of this campaign because Australians understand that indigenous culture and history are a source of pride for us all,” Australian Prime Minister Julia Gillard said. ”This bill seeks to foster momentum for a referendum for constitutional recognition of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples.”
The bill comes as part of a longer term process of reconciliation dating back to the early 1990s, when a Royal Commission was set up to examine Aboriginal deaths in custody and the Australian High Court belatedly disowned the terra nullius doctrine that had premised the takeover of aboriginal land on the demeaning idea that it was not truly occupied by other human beings. This tradition of emphatic non-recognition of Aboriginal peoples was symbolically reversed in 2008 by then-Prime Minister Kevin Rudd’s groundbreaking apology to the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples:
We today take this first step by acknowledging the past and laying claim to a future that embraces all Australians. …. A future where all Australians, whatever their origins, are truly equal partners, with equal opportunities and with an equal stake in shaping the next chapter in the history of this great country, Australia.
The present bill is admirably short and pithy. In its Article 3, entitled ‘Recognition’ it sets out a series of propositions that are revolutionary only in their self-evidentness:
(1) The Parliament, on behalf of the people of Australia, recognises that the continent and the islands now known as Australia were first occupied by Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples.
(2) The Parliament, on behalf of the people of Australia, acknowledges the continuing relationship of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples with their traditional lands and waters.
(3) The Parliament, on behalf of the people of Australia, acknowledges and respects the continuing cultures, languages and heritage of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples.
It then goes on to mandate the Prime Minister to “consider the readiness of the Australian public” to support a constitutional referendum on recognition of Aboriginal peoples and take steps to that effect within 12 months from its entry into force. The explanatory memorandum goes on to explain in somewhat more detail the thinking behind this somewhat unorthodox legislative approach:
This Bill reflects an intention to pursue meaningful change to the Constitution that echoes the hopes and aspirations of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples and unites the nation. It is one part of the ongoing conversation that needs to happen in the lead up to constitutional change. In particular, the Bill will enable all Australians to become familiar with formal recognition of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples ahead of constitutional change.
A review provision sets out a process for Parliament to consider next steps towards constitutional recognition, while a sunset provision ensures that legislative recognition does not become entrenched at the expense of continued progress towards constitutional change.
The Bill is not intended to be a substitute for constitutional recognition. …. The Bill does not restrict the scope of future issues for debate in regards to constitutional recognition of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples.
In the annals of the law and society debate, this Bill may come to represent something of a hallmark. As a legislative attempt to encourage consensual change rather than simply ram change home based on an argument of necessity, it stands out both in its transparency and in the relatively sophisticated mechanism it seeks to set up. It also represents a sterling example of new constitutional approaches to managing diversity that posit a more sustainable relationship through transparent, participatory and open-ended processes than through foreclosing such processes with an unalterable compact.
There is of course a risk that this type of legislation may be seen as an attempt by the Government to play for time or appease reactionary elements in society. On the other hand, accommodating minority demands always imposes a cost on the majority (or in any event prevents the majority from externalising such costs any longer). If Australia’s current moral redistribution and its political and economic consequences are to be sustainable in a democratic system, then it is imperative that bills such as the present one help to undergird moral necessity with political consensus.
Defining communities in Colombia: the Afro-descendant communities of Curvaradó and Jiguamiandó and communal land rights
by Anouska Perram
Anouska Perram is a Supervising Associate at the London office of Simmons & Simmons LLP, an international law firm. At the request of an international NGO for whom it acts on a pro bono basis, Simmons & Simmons LLP has recently submitted an amicus curiae brief to the Colombian Constitutional Court in relation to international human rights law considerations pertaining to the Curvaradó and Jiguamiandó communities’ case.
Once seen as antipathetic to the individual rights focus of international human rights law, “third generation” and collective rights have – despite lingering controversy – been widely accepted as a fundamental element of the indivisible human rights framework.[1] Driven in particular by the demands of indigenous peoples, national and international law has recognised and protected rights to communal land titles, rights to language, religious practices, specialised education and protection of cultural heritage, and many other rights which are associated with the existence of distinct socio-cultural groups within the boundaries of the wider state.
As they have developed, collective rights have increasingly been applied to groups beyond indigenous peoples. ILO Convention 169 (the Indigenous and Tribal Peoples Convention) extends protections not only to indigenous peoples (described as peoples descended from a pre-colonial society) but also – the clue is in the name – to “tribal peoples”. Unlike the description of indigenous peoples in the Convention, tribal peoples need not be linked by common descent, but rather are characterised by “social, cultural and economic conditions” which “distinguish them from other sections of the national community”.[2]
Taking a similarly expansive approach, the Inter-American Court of Human Rights (IACtHR) has applied collective rights principles to Afro-descendant groups. The Court applies its jurisprudence on indigenous land rights equally to Afro-descendant groups where they have “an ‘all-encompassing relationship’ to their traditional lands, and [where] their concept of ownership regarding that territory is not centered on the individual, but rather on the community as whole”.[3]
The expanding scope of collective rights entails a shift in emphasis in the way these rights are justified. Indigenous rights advocacy has often focused on a claim to right derived from chronological precedence – ancestral descent since time immemorial – perhaps paralleling an orthodox property rights analysis which takes an earlier claim as a better claim. The expansion of rights to other groups such as Afro-descendants – who do not have the same claims to ancestral ownership – moves the focus towards the uniqueness of social and cultural characteristics of the group. In this way, as collective rights have developed juridically, the principle of a distinct social organisation, intrinsically worthy of and requiring protection as a collective has become central to the analysis.
This question brings to the forefront the issue of how to define membership of the “collective” entitled to “collective rights”. Logically the entitlement to protection should follow the contours of the social organisation being protected; how to determine those boundaries in each situation is, however, not necessarily straightforward. This is not actually of course a new question – it arises equally for indigenous peoples – but has perhaps been more readily glossed over in relation to indigenous peoples, in reliance upon the (mythically) objective element of “descent” to determine the boundaries of the group.[4] No such “objective” identifier applies to non-indigenous groups and so the question of how to define the group cannot be avoided.
Lawmakers will remain tempted to adopt an “objective” criterion of descent, which gives an appearance of certainty and also places finite limits on a group. Such an approach, however, has the potential to decouple collective rights from parts of the collectivity being protected. This is the very issue currently before the Colombian Constitutional Court in relation to the Afro-descendant communities of Curvaradó and Jiguamiandó.
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Posted in Commentary, Guest posting
Tagged adjudication, Afro-descendants, Colombia, community titling, IACtHR, indigenous groups, land rights, land-grabbing, membership, minorities