Post Voice Referendum: Relational Sovereignty at its Best

I really loved growing up as a young blackfulla in Bundaberg in the 1970s even though it came with some challenges. And how lucky were we to have a strong Aboriginal mother to help us make sense of these challenges so that we could never be brought down or defined by them.

At school and on the rugby league field, we tolerated others who called us filthy names like black coon, black nigger, black boong. It was crude and deliberate – an attempt to pull us down.

Of course we’d come home hurt or angry because of it, but our mum helped us process this in the wisest of ways. I remember her saying to us “Yes you are black! And you must never let anyone think they can pull you down because of this. Being Aboriginal is something truly magnificent and precious!’

She would then ask us a question.

‘Why do you think they might be trying to pull you down?’

She went on to explain such a complex thing so simply.

‘They must be feeling below you; and the only way they think they can be on the same level as you is to drag you down. The only way they think they can drag you down is because of who you are and the colour of your skin.’

Then came the harder lesson. She asked us to think about how to be with them in such a way that they didn’t have to feel so small. She saw no value in humiliating those who insulted us. How extraordinarily wise she was, and how extraordinarily lucky we were.

Without saying it explicitly her lessons were clear.

Do not excuse such foul behaviours.
Do not accept it.
Definitely do not become victims to it.

I look back now and I understand this as strength under discipline. Dignity without intimidation. Pride without contempt.

It is a lesson I have carried with me in all parts of my public life.

The 2023 Voice Referendum rejected a constitutional mechanism. It was democracy in action. Whilst many could be accused of overreading its significance, I could easily see it was never a verdict on the worth of First Nations people. It was never a cancellation of our voice, and it certainly was no mandate for First Nations policy paralysis.

Yet in its aftermath – and in fact during the campaign itself – two corrosive dynamics shaped leadership behaviour on display.

Firstly there was a political retreat whereby politicians privately expressed desire to work constructively on practical reform. Yet somehow, they allowed themselves to be paralysed by fear – fear of being publicly branded, fear of media storms and fear of reputational damage. In such an environment, good decision making is stifled. Sometimes policy and good decision making becomes shaped, not by evidence or long-term benefit and good policy logic; but rather by an immediate desire to avoid attack.

That is not leadership. It is risk management disguised as conviction.

The second corrosive dynamic is intimidation masquerading as moral authority.
For decades in First Nations policy negotiation there have been moments met not with persuasion, but with threat – explicit or implied. Slow down and you will be called a racist! Ask questions and your integrity will be publicly impugned. Seek clarification and you will be framed as hostile to justice.

This approach might deliver short-term compliance, but as we all witnessed, it can easily undermine the pursuit of durable reform.

The harder truth is this: it frightens people and stifles their ability to be at their best. It causes otherwise capable politicians or policymakers to make decisions they know are flawed – simply to avoid confrontation.

Intimidatory behaviours corrode both sides of the relationship. They contaminate trust. This undermines courage. This entrenches mediocrity.

There is no place for such corrosive behaviours in authentic relational sovereignty.

Relational sovereignty is disciplined agency within a High-Expectations Relationship. It is the capacity for each to hold one’s own authority without humiliating or disregarding the other. It is influence exercised without coercion. It requires emotional regulation as much as political clarity.

Moral authority is not amplified by volume. It is amplified by discipline.

Political leadership cannot simply outsource their judgement to the loudest voice in the room. Fear of being labelled cannot become the organising principle of national policy. Courage must mean steadiness and the steadfast pursuit of practical reform without retreat or theatre.

First Nations leadership and authority is strongest when it is exercised with composure, in the way of our old people. Calling out racism where it exists is necessary but reflexively weaponizing that charge weakens our moral force. Our influence grows when we demonstrate restraint, strategic clarity and consistency under pressure. Despondency serves no one, nor does intimidation.

When Vincent Lingiari, the respected Gurindji lore man and head stockman, received the symbolic return of Gurindji land in 1975, he said ‘‘Let us live happily together as mates. Let us not make it hard for each other… We want to live in a better way together, Aboriginals and white men… let us be mates’.  Standing beside the Prime Minister he did not seek to humiliate his counterpart. He sought to extend the relationship.

This was not weakness. It was relational sovereignty expressed through discipline and dignity.

The referendum was not a command to retreat; nor was it a cancellation of our voice.

It was a test of our relational maturity – an invitation to us all to be better, and braver, in how we engage one another.

Relational sovereignty at its best calls us all to a higher standard.

This is the challenge to which Australia must rise. Together, with respect, we can.

Dr Chris Sarra

CEO, Stronger Smarter Institute