We entered the Military Training Base early on Monday morning. It
was a beautiful morning, and as we crossed the first creek we sung the
old Negro Spiritual “Wade in the Water”. It is a song that refers to
the ancient Jewish story of God parting the waters of the Red Sea to
let the Israelites to escape slavery, and was sung by African American
people in their quest to escape slavery.
I was thinking about my aim to escape the militarism that I
believe that our Western societies are caught in. The slavery to the
military industrial complex in the belief it will provide human
security. This slavery leads Australia to spend almost ten times the
amount on military than we do on overseas aid. And I believe its
fuelling terror around the world as people turn to violent solutions to
the world conflicts.
We started our walk into Shoalwater Bay with prayers, and
inflating giant red balloons. The idea of the balloons was to ensure
the military couldn’t deny that we were in the base.
We walked for a number of hours before we released the balloons.
In that time a number of our balloons had burst (and one ran out of our
hands). As we released the balloons, the balloons seemed to symbolize
the blood that is being shed in the war in Afghanistan – and we offered
a prayer that we would honor all lives that had been lost in war.
After we released the balloons we continued to walk through the
military base. Quite quickly I was immersed in the beauty of the
Australian bush – and the amazing bio-diversity of Shoalwater Bay .
Often we’d come to a creek – with one side being a lush rainforest, and
the other side the dry Australian eucalypt forest that I’m used to down
in Victoria. The undergrowth was thick with grass-trees, cycads, and at
times amazing areas of Banksias. We were entertained by Bush Turkeys in
the trees, intrigued (but a bit scared) of the colorful insects and
spiders and breathed in the life around us. Our first serious stop was
on the edge of a creek (mostly dry) where we shared our morning prayers
from Simon’s mob’s prayer book. At that time we mused at how vast this
military base is (the size of Belgium ), and for the military to locate
us there would be like trying to find needles in a haystack. From this
point our mood could lighten – we’d gotten into the base, had released
our signal of balloons, and we could continue to walk.
About an hour after this, my gut suggested we were near a road.
There had been no sign of traffic or people, so it seemed a little
strange. But sure enough, about 20 minutes later we came across a road.
We saw a truck and some personnel, and went back into the bush to take
a GPS reading of where exactly we were and to take stock of our
strategy. As we were sitting there we had two helicopters circle
overhead, low enough to be able to see the US flags flying. Having
worked out where we were (quite close to the Helipad as it turned
out!!), we decided on our course for the day.
A major issue became the water supply. Many of the creeks were dry
or had limited stagnant water – and we knew we needed to camp by a
river that side.. So we had to take a bit of a side route along the
creek.
By about 3pm we were exhausted (having had only 3 hours sleep the
night before), and I turned into driven Jess, leading us about 2 kms
further to a flat place by a little billabong to set up camp for the
night. We took some time out to pray or rest (the boys read some
theology!), as well as boiled some water and began to cook dinner.
By 7.30pm we had eaten, boiled heaps of water, strategised for the
day ahead and were tucked in our tents. We shared the Breviary prayers
across the two tents, then were soon asleep.
After a massive sleep we awoke to the sound of bombs dropping in
the distance. I set to folding paper cranes, both as a symbol of my
ongoing need to practice non-violence but also as a potential source of
evidence for our presence in the base. We had been informed that the
military were not convinced we were in there, we had to think about
further ways to prove we were there. In hindsight, this was probably a
fantastic strategy by them to ensure that we took some more risks so
they could find us. Of course its possible that the choppers from the
day before had located us and chose to leave us where we were.
So we packed up camp and began to walk further in to the base. The
terrain was much more gentle and we were able to cover several
kilometers early in the morning. We urged ourselves forward by singing
songs of liberation and faith. As we stopped for a morning break we sat
on some massive logs and shared some food…and theology…(of course). The
metaphysics of death and resurrection were the theme here!!!
Quite quickly after resuming we came across a main road. It was
here we began to think about implementing our strategy, of balancing
proof of our presence in the base, and trying to stay undetected. We
sat and watched the Range Control vehicle go back and forth a few
times, about every 15mins, as we prepared to cross the road. The cars
were moving fast and audible long before they were visible. We decided
to try and take a photo of a car going past as part of our evidence,
and moved next to the road to do this. I stood up on the road to check
whether the camera was visible from a car, and at the same moment a car
moved around the corner. I quickly commando rolled into the bushes –
but it was too late. As the car approached it slowed down and stopped.
There were three men in the car, and the first to approach was
armed with a gun bigger than my leg. Jarrod jumped into engaging mode
and had quickly found out that the guys were from the USA , all with
strong Christian convictions. “Great infiltration” he said, in his
broad US accent. They didn’t even know there were protesters on the
base, and had been continuing their training. Their role in the
exercises was as the insurgents. They saw this as a natural part of the
Christian journey – the Christians are the ones trying to challenge
that which is wrong – “we are the freedom fighters” he said – not words
I expected from a US soldier.
The US soldiers radio’ed through that we were there. “They are
really peaceful” he told the person on the other end of the phone.
We moved in to the ritual that we’d planned, which was to remember
the names of people who had died in Afghanistan –both civilians and
soldiers. We would read a name and age of a person, then reply with
“Lord have Mercy”. Meditating on the needless deaths, mostly of people
younger than us, amidst a military training area with guns in view was
deeply powerful. As we continued to pray and remember, we were
completely unprepared for what came next. Gently one of the US soldiers
offered us a name of his friend. Our refrain “Lord have Mercy” was said
through sobs as we shared in grief together. Suddenly there wasn’t a
them and us with war resisters and war participators, but human beings
who grieved together, and sought solutions forward to our world.
I prayed for the soldiers around us, and for those who seek to
resist war. The US soldier shared his respect for what we were doing,
and encouraged us.. He asked to pray for us, and he asked God that our
light would continue to shine. The tables had been turned.
It was some time before the Australian military police arrived, so
there was plenty of time to debate the place of violence in our world,
and the voice of Jesus in this. Jarrod gratefully received drinking
water from the US soldiers. Then as I rolled myself a cigarette, a
soldier asked to share it with me – so we smoked the same cigarette… We
erected a shrine where we were, with Margaret tying red cloth with
messages on it to a tree alongside my peace cranes and messages of
peace.
When the redhead Aussie Military Policeman arrived he invited us
to go with him in his vehicle to the edge of the base. We declined and
instead chose to blockade the road that we were on. The MP suggested
that perhaps we needed an army to bring peace – I replied with the old
John Lennon quote “bombing for peace is like screwing for virginity”. I
sang a Kyrie Eleison, a tune we use at St Martins and one that had been
in my heart and mouth for the last few days.
We again read the names of those killed as we sat on the road.
Jarrod offered Bibles and fliers of resistance from StandFast (veterans
group) to each person who arrived on the scene, including military
traffic that was stopped by our blockade. Finally the Queensland Police
arrived. Two of us chose to continue to pray as they asked us to move,
two of us walked to the police car.
With four of us squished into the back of a paddy wagon we were
transferred out one of the gates of the base. The sun was setting by
now. They conducted a ‘field arrest’ which meant detailing our
property, taking our jewelry, taking our official details and so forth.
We were transferred to a large prison van. In the 90minute journey to
Rockhampton we sang. Jarrod introduced us to some African American
spirituals, and we sang some of our old favorites. By now my Kyrie was
driving Simon a little nuts!
We finally made it to the Rockhampton Police Station at 7pm at
night. We were processed yet again (with them taking each individual
item out of our pack to register), and were placed in individual cells
by about 10pm. As I watched people come and go out of jail, I noticed
that we were the only white faces beyond bars. And as I listened to
what was going on around me I realised that the men were in jail for
violence, and the women for self-violence – self-harm and drug
addiction. It is one thing to know the statistics about indigenous
people in our jails, but quite another to see the faces. I sung “from
little things big things grow” and “Yil Ul” from my own cell as a small
gesture of solidarity. I reflected about the difference in my choice to
come to prison and others who had been dragged there against their will.
During the night I was woken up twice to be offered bail, but we had decided we’d face court the next day together.
In the morning we were visited by a lawyer. As I entered the
visiting booth with the glass screen, I noted that I’d been on the
‘professionals’ side many times, but this was the first time I’d been
on this side.
We were taken up to the cells behind the court room and brought in
one by one. We had to stand in the docks this time as we represented
ourselves. Again I had a tiny insight into the feeling of powerlessness
it is to stand in the accused box. I was called in to the Court first.
There were supporters sitting there, including a local elder Aunty
Jeanette. I asked the Magistrate for us to be heard as a group but he
said no. As the charges were read out the Magistrate looked down at his
papers and began stamping. I shared my journey to this point and why I
had done what I’d done, but he chose not to make eye-contact. He fined
me $1,200 (almost the maximum), and sent me back to the cells, with the
next one called forward.
When each of us had been heard, we were accompanied back to the
cells, sharing some last time with others who were behind bars with us,
and were led out one by one out of the cells. It wasn’t until we were
being returned property that the watch house staff informed us that
police had taken some of our property earlier that day.
We had to then go to the Police Station where they informed us
they were seeking forfeiture orders on our phones and cameras, as well
as our navigation equipment.
Until this moment I felt strong. I had done what I’d set out to
do. I had held my spirits through a night in a cold and dirty cell. I
had spoken to the Magistrate my truth.
But as I left I began to feel heavy. The police had struck back
with their punitive taking of my stuff. The military had continued
their training. I had come close to the pain of war, and of the police
cells, and my heart was sore. For two days I felt weak and sad – unsure
of where we were. I cried a lot. It reminded me of the Easter Saturday
experience – where Jesus had been killed, and the disciples didn’t know
where they were going or what the crucifixion was all about.
With love of friends, swims in the ocean and some reflection my
spirit returned. I returned to the barracks to protest, and felt again
able to plead my case that militarism had us going down the wrong path.
We returned to the roadblock where I’d been arrested 2 days before to
pray and release balloons. As we released the balloons this time, it
was like my pledge to continue to hope. I knew that I am one small
person, challenging the might of the military, but I also know that
each of us can make a difference.
Our group chose Bonhoeffer as our namesake for many reasons. He
was a theologian in Germany in the 1930’s, whose convictions led him to
actively resist the rise of Hitler’s fascism and subsequent wartime
atrocities. Bonhoeffer was executed for his part in this resistance.
Bonhoeffer’s theological writings asks Christians to take their faith
seriously. He also challenges the Church to get in the way of the State
when it acts unjustly – to “jam a spoke in the wheel”. He has been
named as the person in the 20thCentury that our Prime Minister Rudd
admires most, and we hope that our action being named after Bonhoeffer
might help Rudd to reconsider our participation in Afghanistan and his
increasing financial support for the military as part of this.
The part of Bonhoeffer’s story that resonates with me most
profoundly just now, is his humanity. He admits mistakes that he made.
He struggled on his journey to resist the state, and what to do about
Hitler. And he was part of an assassination attempt on Hitler
(something he knew would have deep spiritual consequences for him),
which ultimately failed. One of Simon’s mantras for us was that we are
called to be faithful to what we know is right – knowing that we don’t
have control over the outcomes of our actions. I’m pretty aware that
our decision to enter the base was a small part of a much bigger
journey to be faithful to our efforts to resist violence and
oppression. And I’m pretty aware of our my humanity in this – I made
mistakes along the way, I can be hard to get along with sometimes, I
can be impetuous or bossy…but this stuff isn’t make or break. The key
thing is to remain on the journey of continuing to work for what is
right.
Of course we can’t escape the question – were you successful? I
have many answers to this question…depending on which objective we are
focusing on.
One immediate goal was to stop the war games – the ADF had stated
through Parliamentary processes that if there were citizens on the
military base – the games would be stopped. We went on the base, and
they knew we were there, but they chose not to stop the bombing. We
were certainly an inconvenience to the training exercises. Participants
in them needed to stop when they found us, trucks were stopped from
moving along a main internal road when we sat on it, and we imagine
that they military had to take extra measures to ensure we weren’t in
the areas we weren’t bombing. It was more expensive and difficult for
the State in general to undertake these exercises – particularly in
terms of policing (both military and civilian). So while it appears we
didn’t stop the exercises, we certainly got in their way.
Our most ambitious goal is to stop the wars. I think that our
actions have helped take us along the direction this way. We have asked
many people to reconsider their own participation in the military
industry around us – whether we be civilians, police, military.
The most important goal of course is to remain faithful. And to
that I know we have done our best! The action has inspired me to be
continue to take up this call in my life. It is harder sometimes, but I
certainly feel like I'm sucking the marrow out of life!
Current media stories online:
The Age: Game on for Christian protest:
http://www.theage.com.au/n..ational/game-on-for-christ..ian-protest-20090712-dhef...html
The Morning Bulletin: Talisman protesters enter live-fire area
http://www.themorningbulle..tin.com.au/story/2009/07/1..3/talisman-protesters-ente..r-live-fire-area/
ABC: Military watches for Shoalwater Bay trespassers
http://www.abc.net.au/news../stories/2009/07/13/262425..5.htm
ACTION ALERT!!!
PLEASE CONTACT TS09 info line 1800 639 724 and
Defence Minister John Faulkner
Defence.minister@defence.g..ov.au
and demand that the exercises be stopped!