Welcome to my Blog!
This is the first of my monthly blog entries. Here I’ll talk about culture, food, travel, war, politics, family—just about everything under the sun. If there is a focus, it’s on things happening anywhere that might be spun into good stories. Besides being a writer, I’m a law professor, and one of the courses I teach is Law & Anthropology. That’s where law and culture meet (actually, “collide” might be a better term). I’m constantly amazed at the variety of ways people struggle and compete and adapt.
So, first stop: Australia. I’ve been interested in that part of the world since I read the Mutiny on the Bounty trilogy as a boy. I recently heard of Jeffrey Lee, an Aboriginal man and the last living member of the Djok clan. Mr. Lee lives in the Northern Territory, on the border of Kakadu National Park. The Djok clan’s traditional land includes an area called Koongarra. Koongarra holds uranium deposits estimated to be worth $5 billion.
Under current Australian government policy, traditional owners, like Lee, control access to minerals, even though the land technically belongs to the government. Lee has decided not to sell to the French mining company that came knocking on his door. Instead, he wants the land annexed to Kakadu Park, where it forever would be protected from development.
Here’s a man, employed as a park ranger, who’s giving up a spare billion—or two or three. For what? According to an interview he gave with The Sydney Morning Herald, Mr. Lee is afraid that if the land is disturbed, there could be a flood, an earthquake, or some big accident.
A lot of us would say, bully for him! A spiritual man who’s got his priorities straight. This does raise a boatload of questions, though. Lee has no children, a condition he says he hopes to do something about. If romance doesn’t come his way, and he is the last member of the Djok clan, should the Australian government then take over responsibility for deciding what happens to Koongarra? Or should other, local Aboriginal clans be involved? What if Lee changed his mind and decided to sell? Could—or should—the Australian government or other Aboriginal people be able to intercede? What does Mr. Lee really own here? Obviously he views the world a lot differently than, say, Jed Clampett of The Beverly Hillbillies. And notice how we never got to see what happened to Bug Tussle after Jed sold out and the oil companies moved in.
I’m particularly interested in Jeffrey Lee’s story because of the pressures he must feel. A lot of people have weighed in on this, indicating they think he’s a nutcase for refusing all that money. Some see him as obstructing progress and prosperity in one of the poorest sections of Australia. Think, too, of the possibilities for threats, bribery, ostracism . . . even violence. Mr. Lee’s story is the stuff of good novels. Maybe some worthy Australian author will give it a go. Tom Keneally, are you listening?
So, first stop: Australia. I’ve been interested in that part of the world since I read the Mutiny on the Bounty trilogy as a boy. I recently heard of Jeffrey Lee, an Aboriginal man and the last living member of the Djok clan. Mr. Lee lives in the Northern Territory, on the border of Kakadu National Park. The Djok clan’s traditional land includes an area called Koongarra. Koongarra holds uranium deposits estimated to be worth $5 billion.
Under current Australian government policy, traditional owners, like Lee, control access to minerals, even though the land technically belongs to the government. Lee has decided not to sell to the French mining company that came knocking on his door. Instead, he wants the land annexed to Kakadu Park, where it forever would be protected from development.
Here’s a man, employed as a park ranger, who’s giving up a spare billion—or two or three. For what? According to an interview he gave with The Sydney Morning Herald, Mr. Lee is afraid that if the land is disturbed, there could be a flood, an earthquake, or some big accident.
A lot of us would say, bully for him! A spiritual man who’s got his priorities straight. This does raise a boatload of questions, though. Lee has no children, a condition he says he hopes to do something about. If romance doesn’t come his way, and he is the last member of the Djok clan, should the Australian government then take over responsibility for deciding what happens to Koongarra? Or should other, local Aboriginal clans be involved? What if Lee changed his mind and decided to sell? Could—or should—the Australian government or other Aboriginal people be able to intercede? What does Mr. Lee really own here? Obviously he views the world a lot differently than, say, Jed Clampett of The Beverly Hillbillies. And notice how we never got to see what happened to Bug Tussle after Jed sold out and the oil companies moved in.
I’m particularly interested in Jeffrey Lee’s story because of the pressures he must feel. A lot of people have weighed in on this, indicating they think he’s a nutcase for refusing all that money. Some see him as obstructing progress and prosperity in one of the poorest sections of Australia. Think, too, of the possibilities for threats, bribery, ostracism . . . even violence. Mr. Lee’s story is the stuff of good novels. Maybe some worthy Australian author will give it a go. Tom Keneally, are you listening?




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