FOE 1975 /76
Some Reflections
Neil Barrett
May 8, 2015
It was sometime late in 1974.
“God Alan,
what happened?” said the young FOE person outside the office in MacArthur
Place?
A bloody-nosed somewhat shaken up
Alan: “I was innocently riding down St Kilda Rd and stopped in traffic at the
Flinders St intersection. A driver
behind started yelling at me to get out of his way. I told him where to get off
and before long we had a fair dinkum argument going on. He kicked my wheel, I pulled his windscreen
wipers off and got a punch or two in the head for my trouble”.
That was a conversation I overheard on my
first day at FOE in November 1974. I’d only recently left Nimbin where I’d been
for almost a year and although violence wasn’t unheard of in the land of the
hippies, it was quite a shock to see a 50 something cyclist so affected.
Alan was of course Alan Parker, who had
started the Bicycle Institute of Victoria in the early 1970s and wrote many
letters to the Age about how we could virtually eliminate car traffic in
Melbourne if everyone rode a bike to the nearest train station. He was a
wonderful bike advocate and an inspiration to the younger FOE activists of the
day.
MacArthur Place was a small single terrace
house in Carlton and a very busy place. It was generously loaned rent-free by
the next door neighbours, two recently graduated doctors, Brett Forge and Wendy
Hayes. Wendy was the sister of Peter Hayes who was the FOE coordinator.
Having shared an old weatherboard house
with 50 or so hippies on Nimbin’s Tuntable Falls cooperative for 12 months , I
was used to rough living. The two
bedroom MacArthur Place house was certainly another challenge. Some people
worked, ate and slept there, some just worked and had a home to go to. But almost everyone frequently worked into
the early hours of the morning. As you
might expect, cleaning and tidying weren’t high on anyone’s agenda.
These were heady days. Environmental
activism was in its infancy and the issue of uranium mining had become the
issue of the day. Universities had active
environment groups and academics, unions and churches were very interested in
what we were doing and offering assistance in various ways. Before long the left of the ALP was also convinced
that this was an issue worth fighting for.
I’d only been around for a month or two
when Peter Hayes announced that he was going to the US and a new coordinator
was needed. Whether I put up my hand or
was anointed I don’t recall, but quite quickly I assumed the leadership mantle.
Peter had been an incredibly hard working
and effective leader. He was able to represent the group at all levels of
media and politics and would work day and night to write and design
publications or organise a demonstration. He famously argued with the Minister
for Minerals and Energy Rex Connor when
in his Parliament House office and had to be thrown out…by big Rex
himself.
So, a hard act to follow. But, though I
didn’t have Peter’s media savvy or his ability to work day and night, I had more
than my share of energy, a passion for the issue and a very strong desire to
make sure I made myself useful.
The first major activity for me was the location
search for the inaugural Bicycle Ride Against Uranium to Canberra in May 1975.
With another FOE member I drove up the Hume and Newell highways, seeking 10 places
for a bunch of long-haired bike riders to hold a meeting for the local
citizenry and to stay overnight. So every
50-70 kilometres the 50 people who made the trip had a place to stop over. Most
often it was a church hall generously donated to us for the night.
The ride a few weeks later was a great
experience. Singer song-writer, Glen Tomasetti rode in a support vehicle and,
with her beautiful voice, sang for her supper each night; wherever there was a
piano I was called upon to play a bit of stirring ragtime; two Japanese people
had come from an anti nuclear power group in Japan and, though pretty unfit,
managed to ride all the way; and many people came along to hear the speeches
and music we were able to turn on.
Neil on bike ride to Canberra with notorious beannie
On day 10, a pretty tired bunch of cyclists
reached Canberra. On the way to the lawns we decided to have a sit down with
bikes on a Canberra main road. The police reacted with some force and, after a
few arrests were made, the road was soon
cleared. The event was one of the features of the film Ride Against Uranium
which made by a film crew from Rusden CAE in Melbourne. Some people have argued that I can clearly be
seen darting about helping to orchestrate the sitdown but I reckon it was an
activist hippie outsider who just happened to infiltrate our ranks on that day.
These days I ride a sleek carbon fibre road
bike. In 1975 I borrowed an old rattler from Brett Forge, did some light
training for one or two days and I was off on the 40k to Kilmore for the first
stage. Arriving rather late and exhausted at Kilmore I forgot that I had to get
out of the stirrups and promptly, and unceremoniously, fell off in front of the
welcoming crowd. Not a good start.
When we arrived in Canberra we camped out
on the lawns of old parliament House as a delegation went into the House to
meet with deputy PM, Dr Jim Cairns. Cairns made his first anti-uranium
statement to that group and this was quoted widely in the media.
Soon after our return to Melbourne we were
advised that our application for federal funding to prepare a case against
uranium mining for the Ranger Uranium Inquiry (often called the Fox Inquiry)
had been successful. We received $30,000
and divided it up between the six or so people who needed it to live on while
they worked on different parts of the submission over the next few months.
We did a huge amount of research in that
time. One of the most interesting sources of information was the library of
Western Mining Corporation, one of the leading companies involved in uranium
exploration. I’d somehow got to know one of the staff members and he agreed to
let me into the library. There I avidly read Nucleonics Week which was a very
revealing publication which, though it supported the nuclear industry, reported
very frankly on its misadventures, failures, accidents and incidents. We helped
turn a lot of these events into news items for our many readers of Uranium
Deadline which started around that time.
Partly because we’d got the funding, FOE
Victoria did most of the heavy intellectual lifting at the Inquiry for the FOE
Australia network. We presented papers on all important aspects of the industry
over a few days.
My contribution was on the Japanese nuclear
industry. The supposed need for uranium by the energy-starved Japanese was used
by the Liberal government -led by Gorton and then McMahon –as a major reason
why we needed to dig up and sell uranium. My work showed that there was growing
opposition to the industry in Japan and for good reason: there were too few
suitable sites and the country had had quite a problematical history with
nuclear matters. Already, by the time the Fox inquiry came around, even the
Japanese government had quietly cut back its nuclear target and therefore its need for our uranium. This news had not then reached Australia.
Soon after completing the paper, I
nervously went on late night 3AR as it was known then. With no help at all from
the sleepy guy who showed me into the studio, I attempted to put this point
about Japan across to a national audience.
In the middle of a sentence my mind went blank, panic took over and my
initially strong voice ended in a confused whimper and never recovered. It was
a depressing ride home to the Carlton laundry outbuilding I shared with my
partner at the time. It took me quite a few days to get over it.
It wasn’t panic which got me on the first
day of the Ranger Inquiry hearings in Melbourne. It was total exhaustion. I
rose to speak but found that no sound passed my lips, only a bare whisper.
Justice Fox made a flippant remark, I asked one of my colleagues to read my
paper , listened to it somewhat painfully and, once finished, immediately
decamped for a cycling holiday around the Great Ocean Road. After only two days
around the beaches I heard a radio report that the Atomic Energy Commission
folk at the Inquiry were arguing that Japan still had a desperate need for our
uranium. I immediately got back on the
bike and headed back to the FOE office to put out a press release arguing the
contrary. Whether that did any good or not I don’t recall but intrue Don
Quixote style I couldn’t let them get
away with it, could I?
The rest of 1975 was dominated by our
effort to help build a strong public resistance to uranium mining. Aware that we represented the activist, alternative
section of the movement we supported the establishment of the Movement Against
Uranium Mining MAUM which could represent all sections of society became the
umbrella group for the many organisations involved in the issue.
In September FOE (or maybe it was just me!)
decided to take on the uranium companies more directly.
The idea was to
peacefully break into a meeting of the Uranium Producers Forum which was made
up of the companies involved in uranium mining and exploration. As the leading company was EZ Ltd I decided
to do a reconnoitre at its head office building in Collins St. Security was
non-existent as was very common in those days; one could go almost anywhere in
the Melbourne CBD without being challenged by security guards. I looked at the
location board on the ground floor and headed towards the meeting room on the 4th. Oops. As I walked from the lift I came face
to face with a guy I’d been introduced to at a meeting only a few weeks before,
a very urbane bloke who just happened to be EZ’s director of public relations.
To go back a step. Peter Hayes had been very open in his
dealings with opponents and allowed them to come to FOE meetings and to even be
members. One of these opponents was Ian Hore Lacy who was CRA’s environment
manager. As part of his work, he was a well-known supporter of lead in petrol
at a time when virtually all governments here and overseas had recognised it as
a health hazard. Hore Lacy was also believe a member of both FOE and the ACF in those days as he
attempted to straddle the whole environment scene. He even occasionally attended our monthly
general meetings and had his say on our work. It was he who introduced me to
his highly-placed mate from EZ.
This mate was the last person I wanted to
see during my reconnoitre. To his credit, he merely said Hullo Neil, what
brings you here? Feeling like a kid caught with a pocketful of unpaid for
lollies, I think I mumbled something
about being interested in modern city buildings and got out of that particular
modern building as fast as I could.
Towards the end of 1975, Jim Falk and I
discussed the need for a book on the issue.
The result was the cleverly-titled
Red Light for Yellowcake: the Case Against Uranium Mining, a 95 page publication written by Jim and I
and Denis Hayes, an energy expert with the American organisation, The
Worldwatch Institute. Over 30,000 copies of Red Light were sold at a dollar
each. Low printing and other publication costs meant that it returned a
handsome profit to FOE over the next few years.
A few years ago I googled the title. To my
amazement Amazon had it for sale as a `rare book’ for around $20. And which
section did one have to look for a description? Easy: the pornography/erotica
section as the key words were Red Light.
That’s since changed as Amazon has altered the way it categorises books
but the price is still steep: $22.57 for each of three used copies.
This was a time when unions were very
supportive with cash donations. Simon Crean of the Storemen and packers was a
good supporter as was John Halfpenny of the AMWU who paid me a handy sum to
write his submission to the Ranger Inquiry. Also helpful were the officers of
the Ship Painters and Dockers Union which was rather famous for murder and mayhem.
I was a nodding acquaintance of one of its leaders, Jack `Putty Nose’ Nicholls
who’d attended meetings we’d organised with union officials.
To quote Wikipedia: Jack "Putty Nose" Nicholls
(December 1912 – June 16, 1981) was a Melbourne
waterfront identity best known as Secretary of the Victorian Branch of the Painters and
Dockers Union at the time of the Costigan
Commission. Nicholls followed Pat Shannon as union
secretary after he was murdered by Bill "The Texan" Longley.[1] Nicholls
was found dead in his car while en route to give evidence at the Costigan
Commission. Although ruled as a suicide, there is lasting speculation that
Nicholls was murdered.[2][3]
Apart from uranium mining, the issue we
worked on intensively for a short period was the arrival of the Concord
aircraft in Melbourne. David Hughes was the guy who got us interested and who
led the campaign. Somehow David got on Channel Seven’s current affairs flagship
of the day and was interviewed by Greg Shackleton later to be one of the journalists
killed at Balibo in East Timor. Shackleton
gave our inexperienced David quite a grilling and in the end had him on the
ropes, struggling for words. Next day I rang Shackleton to complain about what
I saw as his aggressive treatment of an innocent protestor. He let me know in
no uncertain words that if FOE wanted to be a major player in issues like this
we needed to realise that our representatives would not receive kid-glove
treatment. It was only years later that I found myself largely agreeing with
the by now deceased Shackleton.
At one typical late night meeting to
discuss the Concord issue, we came close to making a decision to try to disrupt
the Concord’s landing at Tullamarine. Our idea was to fill a truck with helium
balloons and release them when the Concord was a few kilometres away. We had little idea if it would work but we
thought it could be worth trying. Fortunately other matters must have
preoccupied David and he didn’t pursue it but it was seriously discussed. Whew.
However the day of its arrival wasn’t
completely uneventful from our end. We’d arranged for a couple of CSIRO audio
experts to bring along their equipment to a hill under the plane’s flight path
so that we could prove that it was so loud that it should be banned. Somehow we’d found out from which direction
it would fly in. We arrived in plenty of time and the gear was set up. When the
plane came over it actually flew much closer to us than we imagined it would.
The noise was terrifyingly loud . We panicked and ran around vainly trying to
cover up our ears. It was probably all
over in 10-15 seconds but it seemed like a lot longer. Some time later I
realised that I suffered from tinnitus as I still do today. It could have come
from that incident (but it also could have come from a few other loud noise events I’d
experienced such as a teacher who’d delighted in slapping me over the head at
almost every year 8 maths lesson).
The
year or so at FOE was the hardest I’ve ever worked and as a fairly driven,
ambitious person who has since run an educational video business with 25 or so
people employed for several decades, I don't say that lightly. At least once a
month after working a 10-12 hour day we would hold a general meeting. Around 30
people would turn up to have their say. Although
decisions taken were meant to be binding. we had few, if any, written protocols
for meeting procedure. So debates would rage for hours, difficult (if not
impossible) people were allowed to rant until they and everyone else were
exhausted, and sometimes, next day, there would be disagreement on the actual
wording of the decision arrived at.
Despite that, we managed to be a pretty effective group, often on the
national media, able to put out two regular magazines and multiple newsletters,
capable of organising large demonstrations and use our impressive connections with
leading politicians.
At the same time I have fond memories of
the people I worked with, especially Peter Hayes (for a brief period), Emma Young, Alison Parks, Dick Borton (dec)
and Richard Nankin. Would I do it again?
Oh yes, but a little less frenetically I would hope.
.
To come:
Copy of Redlight for Yellowcake
Full text or scan of Age article on FOE as worthy foe for U235