Plea For The Natives
pp. 63-64 · Read in the full issue
Save Them From The New Order!
Letter to the Editor IN early 1942 it was front-page news when the little ships, after terrible .voyages from the Solomons, won their way through to an Australian land fall. Interviews with the planters or missionaries who manned them were headlined as colourful “dramas of the sea”, and all that.
The stories were true, for fearful weather can be encountered during the cyclone season in the thousand miles of open ocean between the Solomons and Australia ... and also during the season of Australian winter gales, for that matter.
The little ships are sailing again— this time back to the Solomons, through similar dangers and hardships, bearing the fortunate few who have been lucky to wangle a passage to their ruined homes and enterprises, to face in their ageing years, the colossal task, of re storing their fallen fortunes.
These men know what to expect when they arrive in the Islands;. Jife on re mote, war-shattered plantati* Ij, in tents or native huts; shortages of food and essential supplies, radio, mail, papers— all the things that make loneliness bear able.—But, gallantly and grimly, they are .prepared to face it all because they will be HOME again, and rebuilding their lives anew.
Deep down in their hearts though many would hate to admit it—is the de sire to see their native friends again alongside of whom many of them fought during the war. Some of these men cherish letters from natives Beseeching them to return, and make life for them ‘the same as before”.
The best natives have “had” the war and its aftermath of shortages and es trangements, and long for the return of the old Islands way of life; stores (the Island equivalent of the friendly, local pub) run by the men they know, and stocked with the things they want; some one to trade with for their copra and trocas shell (and to joke and talk with them, and to tell them “the news”) • someone to recreate the old set-up on stations , in stores, schooners, and schools.
Like us all, the natives are at a dead end They are fed up wuth being dead in life, and want the old things back again, fast. fI\HE little ships are sailing because X after two years of Peace no steamers are running from Australia to the Solomons to-day. The necessities of life for natives and whites are in short sup ply in the Solomons, and will continue to be, because of the lack of such ship ping. The little ships may bring a few men—but no general supplies.
Much fuss is made in official quarters about new deals and new orders for Pacific Islanders. With justice the natives could say; “We asked for bread arm you gave us an anthropologist.”
By all means give the natives better educational, medical, and Administrative services; but for God’s sake give them also the ordinary amenities of life These are only obtainable bv shipping' So give them shipping. wil e ? at S e . lading essentials, sees hordes of officials and theorists let loose hc,r^L Is l ai l who come to him empty kJrt /ull of words about future IwiStr O,III XT other bleak ’ doctrinaire aus wLf H< L S + ayS: <<That ’ s wonderful!
But what about some good stores now?
Copra s a good price, but there are no goods to buy with the money we get.
When will the steamer and the white man come back?”
IT is fashionable to-day in the Islands to place native considerations first It always has been so. But the en gineers of the New Orders like to kid themselves that they have just instituted that policy.
Old-timers have long recognised that native welfare and white welfare are in divisible. Those who have just discovered the natives try to tell the latter that their old white friends are their ex ploiters, and that “Codlin is the friend not Short”.
The native is no fool. He has known Short a long time and trusts him. New dealer Codlin, he finds, is short of every thing but words, promises, and regimen tation. Anyway, we will be fashionable, and will base our plea for a shipping service on the needs of the natives.
When shipping is mentioned, we are
officially that there is a shortage of shipping. Maybe. But we doubt it During the war, in the Solomons, we witnessed vast convoys of around 700 ships of all sizes, marshalled for an op eration. We know that hundreds of ships are idly rusting in naval havens in Amer ica, Australia, and elsewhere If need arose, they would go into ser vice tomorrow. Why not now? A single 3,000-tons vessel, say an LST, is all that is required to put the Solomons on their feet. Why not use one of those ships
to help the people who so grandly helped the Allies during the war?
Finish the war tidily. Treat the oper ation as the final phase of the war, if accountancy demands it. Why not? It can be afforded, just the same as countless millions were afforded through UNRRA —for Red rackets in Europe and Fascist Ramps in China. Only in this case we would have the satisfaction of helping our friends, instead of our enemies, for a change.
And it would be good business, costing only a few thousands a year, as Britain and Europe need our copra. This ship ping service is not primarily Australia’s job. It is Britain’s job, but I am afraid that the poor stricken Old Country can not spare us what ship we need.
But I do think that the generous hearted United States, if she were but made aware of our plight, would gladly give the ship needed, out of gratitude to our natives who, during tht war, res cued and succoured hundreds of Ameri can airman and seamen from the jungle and sea in the Solomons. What about it, America?
I am, etc..