Two wackjobs with two honourable gentlemen in Funafuti, Tuvalu. 14 August 2019. Photo: Alex Hawke/Twitter.
Comrades,
By curious happenstance I found myself in the proudly independent island nation of Vanuatu at the same time as the South Pacific Forum [PIF] was being held in far-away Funafuti in Tuvalu. I can tell you here and now, while every ni-Vanuatu I met treated me with the utmost courteousness, kindness, good humour, and respect, Australia's name is mud in those parts. Mud. They are filthy with our Govt. and they've had enough. They bear no grudge against the Australian people - far from it - and they're not angry with Scott Morrison. They're furious. The complete failure of the carefully developed and finely worded Tuvalu Declaration was disaster on a grand scale. It was blown clean out of the water by Australia, and Australia alone, in an act of high-handed condescending bastardry that deeply deserved the international derision and scorn that it got. It shat me to tears, and I'm as mad as hell, and I'm not going to take it anymore. ScoMo's pathetic performance in Tuvalu was one of ignorant outrageous arrogance and dumbfounded idiocy, while his first-rate tool of a very part-time Minister for the South Pacific, and fellow Pentacostalist god-botherer, Alex Hawke, is the most dim-witted, clueless, and most out of his depth Australian politician that has ever been foisted upon the world stage. Do I make myself clear?
Before the meeting and the tok tok even began, the local English language paper, the Vanuatu Daily Post, was reporting on some dark mutterings in South Pacific diplomatic circles along the lines of "what is Australia doing in the PIF anyway? Why are they even there?" It's a mighty good question. While we may boast a vast Pacific coastline, we are not in any way, shape or form, Islanders.
With Australia's utter intransigence, China is of course seen as a more amiable partner who are at least on the same climate change wave length - if not that transparent, and prone to exploitation and corruption of their own. The ni-Vanuatu are very leery of the Chinese, as they are of all outsiders attempting to wield influence, but at a minimum the Chinese can be counted on as reliable and to do as they say. A fabulous example is the 124km Éfaté ring road. Originally built by the Americans during WWII, and known by everyone as the "American Road", it was very badly damaged during the Cat 5 Severe Tropical Cyclone Pam back in March, 2015. It was re-surveyed, re-aligned, largely re-built and re-surfaced by the New Zealand Army Engineer's Corps during the recovery effort and colloquially re-named the "New Zealand Road". Now, as I drove right around the island, there were huge gangs of workers knocking together new box-girder bridges, permanently repairing washaways and replacing old bridges and culverts; going flat out to get them right for the wet season, and at long long last making the ring road passable to all traffic in all weathers. There were lolly-pop men and bush track detours all over the shop. Keeping the road open 24/7 365 is crucial to trade and communication. There were construction sites everywhere, all proudly announced by small billboard sized signs as the work of the Government of Vanuatu's Infrastructure and Public Utilities Dept. It's largely funded by the Asian Development Bank, and while all the overseers and foremen were Chinese, presumably working for the lead contractor, China Civil, all the workers, without exception, were ni-Vanuatu. Give them jobs on the roads while putting in priceless long term infrastructure. It makes perfect sense, and before too long it will become known as the "Chinese Road". And where is Australia on all this? Absolutely bloody nowhere.
Many people I spoke to have laboured overseas, from cutting asparagus in New Zealand to picking cucumbers in New South Wales hot houses, but they all had a singular aim. It takes about seven months of back-breaking work in extremely long, brutal seven-day-a-week shifts in appalling shitful conditions to scrape together just enough money to build a modest solid bessar brick house for themselves, replacing the corrugated iron shack they'd been living in since Cyclone Pam rooted the joint good and proper. One bloke I met at the Emua wharf in north Éfaté had bought a couple of long boats with hefty outboards on the proceeds of a full year of non-stop overseas labour and now runs a successful little ferry service to and from Pele and Nguna islands. Yep, he's got himself "the asparagus boats". And he was a busy man, as the wharf was packed with people and provisions arriving for a prominent north Éfaté wedding in two days time; huge bundles of sugar cane and baskets filled to overflowing with foodstuffs of all kinds and elaborate woven mats as gifts were piled high, and I was assured many pigs, chickens, much kava, and so on would be coming in the next day. If these people had any idea who-the-fuck Michael McCormack is, they would be far too polite to tell him to his face that he can go shove his fruit picking right up his arse. [while perhaps privately contemplating going in elbow deep].
McCormack - what a despicable human. A Wagga Wagga wannabe with a chequered career as an uneducated far right-wing unscrupulous manipulative journo, less than successful businessman and small-town lackey hick politician -- McCormack is the Deputy Prime Minister, for crying out loud, and the very worst example of vile colonialist arrogance that immediately sticks in the craw. With that kind of Country Party bad attitude, McCormack would be much more comfortable tricked up in some kind of colonial uniform with a peacock feather sticking out of his hat being 2IC in the running of the Belgian Congo. The PM of Fiji, Frank Bainimarama, called him out as the racist imperialist rubbish he is, describing McCormack's unconscionable comments as having "seriously damaged Australia's relations with the South Pacific". Please, for bejesus's sake, McCormack, shove a sock down your throat will you; you are worse than that low turd Alan Jones and you can both crawl back into the miserable denialist wormholes from whence you came, and reflect on the frightfully awful collapse and ultimate demise of The British Empire.
It was also pleasing to hear while I was there that Port Vila's only deisel electricity generator, used to power a city of 60,000 and the west coast of Éfaté - after a long, difficult period of conversion - is now running on 100% coconut oil. Deisel imports for electricity are over, on account of - in the local vernacular - Vanuatu has "too many fucking-coconuts". It makes perfect sense to use a plentiful and cheap cash crop to fuel the machine, and while there are small solar, wind and hydro projects going on too, it's reliable baseload power that they really need. And now its entirely sustainable. Forever. Well, as long as the planet is still here. And who thought of all this in the first place, and carried it through from start to finish? Well, the ni-Vanuatu did, surprise surprise. It would have taken a fair bit of capital cash to do it, but otherwise, no help required and no interference brooked, and they started work on it many years ago now. It was completed with no fanfare or grand ceremony; it was just done because it needed to be done. And where is Australia on all this? Absolutely bloody nowhere. Yet still, the whole of the windward east coast of the island of Éfaté has no access to mains power. There aint no poles and wires out there. While some villages might have small generators or even solar panels, generally, electricity is too expensive, and not worth the trouble out in the sticks. And just bye-the-bye, Vanuatu is 100% plastic bag free. The phasing out took less than 12 months. Nobody complained. And all take-away drinks - pop & beer - are sold in cans or glass bottles. There isn't an ounce of plastic litter anywhere.
The Vanuatu Daily Post's screaming editorial banner headline after the dismal failure of the Tuvalu Declaration to get up was: FUTILITY IN FUNAFUTI. It pointed out that while ScoMo is shitting bricks over a looming recession that will be his political death, the Islanders are literally losing their own precious land from under their feet every day of the week to global warming. And that aint even the start of the whole story. By far the biggest single fear is they might disappear altogether. and there really will be that doomsday scenario of waves of desperate climate refugees, clinging only to faith, hope and charity. Hello ScoMo? Are you out there? Somewhere, you world laughing stock, you? I think it was the PM of Vanuatu, Charlot Salwai, who most politely and diplomatically described your laughable 'Pacific Step Up' policy as "more of a distinct downward step for the South Pacific". It's all bagarup now Scotty, and it's your fault and you will only have yourself to blame. Your profound ignorance of, let alone any cultural understanding of, the South Pacific is breath taking, Morrison. But you know that, don't you? Has anyone ever told you you are a fool to yourself, and a burden on the community? If not, why not?
Garbage dumpster. Manples district, Port Vila, Éfaté, Vanuatu. 11 August 2019. Photo: The Miracle of Democracy.
