School for Training

of Officials Depressing End of the First Class

THE first class of Canberra’s “School of Tropical Administration” has finished.

Forty “students” were selected. Six were called away for some special duty soon afterwards, leaving 34 to take the 10-weeks’ course. Of the 34, only 18 passed.

According to statements made to this journal, the School seems to have been satisfactory neither to students nor sponsors. That was not the fault of the man in charge (Colonel Murray, an ex pert agriculturalist) or of the Second in Command (Colonel Piddington, an anthro pologist). The plan was faulty in con ception, and the institution failed to gain either the interest or respect of the students.

The plan seems to have been the pro duct of the combined genius of Mr.

Ward, Minister for External Terri tories, and Colonel Conlon, who is called a “Director of Army Research,” but who has been described dis respectfully to us in other language.

He seems to have much to do with the School, but has no apparent standing in connection with Territories administra tion. mOWARDS the end of 1944, general X routine orders of the Australian Army invited applications frorp men under 25 to enter the School in January, 1945, at the Royal Military College, Dun troon, for ten weeks, to be trained as Patrol Officers, Assistant DO’s, and Patrols Officers, in Papua and New Guinea. Many applications were re ceived and considered by the Selection Committee. The latter consisted of the chairman, Mr. L. Haylen, MP, a former newspaper reporter, whose knowledge of tropical administration could be written on a postage stamp without defacing the stamp; Mr. J. R. Halligan, secretary of the Department of External Territories; and Dr. K. S. Cunningham, who is described as “Director of the Australian Council of Educational Research,” what ever that may be.

The fact that half the students failed to pass the course clearly is a reflection upon the Selection Committee or upon the School. Present information suggests that there was too much anthropology in the School, and too much Conlon everywhere.

There are many hundreds of young men in ANGAU. It was supposed that the students would come mostly from ANGAU. Actually, when they were lined up in Duntroon, only 2 were from 4NGAU. Not half a dozen out of the 40 had ever seen the Islands before the war. f¥IHE students describe the School itself X as a farce. Because it was Duntroon, some semblance of -military organi sation was observed. But it was only a semblance. As the course proceeded, and the young men lost heart and interest, pretence of observing military discipline largely disappeared.

The students expected that the School would give them a well-rounded-out pic ture of tropical administration. Instead, it was devoted to a very large extent to instruction on native affairs and native welfare. European and economic affairs were comparatively neglected. “It was definitely an Eddie Ward show, so far as atmosphere and politics were concerned,” said one student. “Everyone got sick of anthropology. We assumed that there is

a lot more to administration than anthropology.”

Lectures were given to the students by “experts” in various aspects of tropical administration. Invited to give a list of the lecturers, the following names were produced by the students: Rev. J. W. Burton (President-General of the Methodist Missionary Society), twice; Dr. Hogbin (at present an ANGAU Colonel) (lecturer in anthropology at University of Sydney); Miss Camilla Wedgwood (at present an ANGAU Colonel) ( an anthropologist); Dr.

Lucy Mair (of London, a lecturer on British Colonial administration); and Professor Elkin (head of the Department of Anthropology at the University of Sydney).

Said another critic of the School: “Taking character and temperament into consideration, the men who were passed should, for the most part, have failed; and most of those who were failed should have passed. None were more surprised at the examination results than those who passed.” rE “examination” seems to have been a haphazard affair. There was no set test—the students simply were informed by Colonel Murray that they had passed or failed, and that was the end of it. But one incident was much discussed by the students. One had seen

Colonel Conlon in Melbourne, and been informed by that busy gentleman that he had passed. He was informed by Colonel Murray, later, that he had failed. “But,” he exclaimed, “Colonel Conlon told me that I had passed.” Colonel Murray seemed surprised, and telephoned Colonel Conlon; and then informed the argu mentative student that he had passed, This incident occurred in the presence of some of the students, and it did not add to the morale of the institution. All stu dents appear to have been interviewed at some time or other by Colonel Conlon.

They did not know his standing, but they regarded him as the “real boss of the School.”

The 18 students who passed assume that they will now receive commissions, and will be posted to ANGAU. Presum ably, they will take the places of a party of young ANGAU officers who are re ported to be on their way south, to become the School’s second class. The failures assume that they will be returned to the Services. The whole situation seems vague, however; and the plan ap pears to be mostly a waste of public money and a destroyer of morale among young officials. Little improvement can be expected until the School is freed from Labour Party politics, Canberra bureau cracy, Army headquarters and anthro pology rampant.