'It will be your artists: the poets, painters, actors, dancers, musicians, orators — they will be the ones to lead the changes.'
It was one of the many international invited guests, a Maori woman speaker, who made this prediction to the huge 40,000 strong crowd; to the 30,000 First Nations people from across the nation and 10,000 of us non-Aboriginal supporters who had joined them enroute to Hyde Park, Sydney, on 26 January 1988.
In South Australia almost 30 years later, this prophecy continues to unfold in the ongoing high-stakes battle for country that surrounds the proposed nuclear waste dump.
The orators have been long leading the way. 'We can't sell that country — we can't sell it. Just like selling your own kid, own grandmother, own grandfather,' said Arabunna Elder Kevin Buzzacott at the 1998 Global Survival and Indigenous Rights Conference in Melbourne 1998.
Tjunmutja Myra Watson told the Olympic Games international media, Botany Bay, 2000: 'We already lost everything at Maralinga' — the site of the 1950s and 1960s British nuclear tests.
'We thought that Maralinga would be the last one ... We love our land ... We got the Dreaming, we got the songs and we got the culture. We're going to fight to keep it. Let's keep it, let's keep the country, not this man coming in and digging up our spirit and our land and all our songs. They're spoiling it when they put the poison in. They're taking everything and they did it before.'
They are joined in the struggle by other artists: painters Eileen Wani Wingfield and Eileen Unkari Crombie; dancers Eileen Kampakuta Brown, Edie Nyimpula King and other Kupa Piti Kungka Tjuta, dancing for protection of country in the bush; singers like Ivy Makinti Stewart, whose astonishing voice filled the Adelaide Town Hall with the lament of the Seven Sisters: Irati Wanti — the poison — leave it!
"Since 2015, in the face of the new threat of being swamped with international high level nuclear waste as well as Australia's intermediate and low level waste, the newer generation have emerged."
Long before that there was Victor Tunkin's 'Maralinga' classic:
Where the red dust flows across the landThere's a place where my people used to standWhere the Maralinga bomb went off that day.It's my father's land you see.And it's calling out inside of me.
Since 2015, in the face of the new threat of being swamped with international high level nuclear waste as well as Australia's intermediate and low