Some emails received from
Whyalla poet, Allan Nield
 Defenders of human rights at Baxter 2003 labelled "ferals"
by South Australian Premier, Mike Rann

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Baxter 2003 - In defence of Truth

Truth is so precious, our Mike Rann detected,
From ferals and meatheads it must be protected,
My police will defend my right to the end,
To decree and declare whom truth can befriend.

Protestors at Baxter need guidance from me,
No kite flying, swearing or being noisy,
No pointing of tripods up in the sky,
Or my friendly Star Force may be just passing by.

Ferals and meatheads can’t possibly know,
The truth of detention and why it is so,
That we blow up Sadaam the horrible failure,
And imprison his victims who flee to Australia.

Ferals bite back
I’d like to be a feral,
And never wear a suit,
I’d slip into Mike’s office,
And chew up his jack-boot.
(SA Premier Mike Rann had described us as "ferals" and "mostly from Victoria".

One of Australia's refugee groups received a call from an ABC reporter in Port Pirie, asking if anyone was aware of refugee activists planning to attend the Baxter protests, 'armed' with a tractor and planning to take out the fences. Apparently the story came from SA police sources. Hyped up by their right-wing Premier Mike Rann, they went berserk about such a move.

They had a good laugh about the impossibility of taking a 16kph vehicle down Old Whyalla Road.

The Baxter Tractor

Never underestimate, a tractor in full flight,
A fearsome beast with many horses, hidden out of sight,
And, when aroused, those horses do not need the whip or goad,
A thousand of them galloping, down the Baxter road.

Never underestimate, the power of horse manure,
Bunnions, warts and growing pains, the universal cure,
Just imagine, piled up high, a thousand horses poo,
Enough to bury ACM and most of DIMIA too.

Now how about the horse of Troy, a gift for Trojan's zoo!
Leave the tractor parked outside, "A gift from us to you",
Would management then take the bait, or would they smell a rat?
(I'm just a bit afraid they might, they're fairly good at that).

But just imagine if they did, a thousand horses strong,
Fertilizing Baxter's yards, a welcome earthy pong,
Instead of soldiers pouring from a wooden horse of Troy,
History reversed, but STOP! Day dreaming I enjoy.

Yet dreaming is the stuff that makes, all worthwhile change proceed,
"I have a dream" said Luther King, "I know it will suceed",
And Baxter too will go the way, that institutions do,
When they oppress the power-less, it damages us too.

Australia has had enough, of little men in power,
Not their stature but their souls, are shrivelled up and sour,
John Howard single-handedly, has snuffed the conscience hopes,
The once great Liberal Party had, and now in darkness gropes.

I dream a dream of regime change, I hope sooner than late,
With "Ruddock's Folly" named above, the open Baxter gate,
Museum to the evil deeds, the light now shines upon,
And cheated of their grisly sport, the fickle mob move on.

Allan Nield
Whyalla
April 2003

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Good Friday and police violence
Good Friday April 18th 2003

I want to write this while it’s fresh in my mind. This is a memorable Good Friday.

At an ecumenical service this morning we sang…
"Jesus Christ is healing, healing in the street;
Curing those who suffer, touching those he greets,
Listen, Lord Jesus, I have pity too,
Let my care be active, healing just like you".

In the afternoon I went to Port Augusta to meet some of the people converging there over Easter. What a great lot of people of all ages! Precisely because it was ‘grass roots’ there were no overall leaders, just busy people who had tried to co-ordinate some of the basic things like water and camping. Decision making was complicated by the demands of police who insisted that the camp-site be behind their road block which was perhaps 3 kilometres from Baxter. The police however allowed people to CARRY (not drive) their camping equipment through the roadblock and set up tents about 1 km closer to Baxter. I walked through with no problem while carrying things for some campers.

After perhaps an hour or two the impressive line up of foot and mounted police told campers they had to go back to the first site and advanced, the mounted police beginning to trample tents and camping gear (possibly people) which were not removed. I was rudely shoved from behind by another line of police which I had not noticed moving. It was shocking to witness. Dust being stirred up, people disappearing from view in front of the horses. It just seemed so senseless and brutal.

It seemed to me that the campers were in no way violent and showed quite a bit of restraint. What was "frightening" was the lack of personal conscience of the police. Little regard for peoples possessions and rights, let alone their humanity. It seemed that they would have trampled a baby if it happened to be in the way. What for? Was it just for the pride of the police boss? I don’t think it was to insist that police be respected and obeyed. They lost a lot of respect and credibility today. To my knowledge there was no violence from the campers, only the police. A wise onlooker said that the only "renta-crowd" was the police force.

Whose police? Lyn, please tell your boss that he is looking more like a thug in a suit whenever he gets on his law and order high horse. I’m surprised by his vehemence, for instance against protesters. How much is he responsible for today’s violence? The people I observed today were intelligent, with a social conscience, just like your and my children. I can easily imagine my daughter being there and I am angry with Mike Rann and his superior attitude and inflammatory statements.

This morning we sang about "active" service and this afternoon that was literally being done by hundreds of the finest people in Australia. It seems so ironic that they have gathered to try to change the institutionalised violence of Federal mandatory detention and they have been attacked with the institutionalised violence of the South Australian police. It’s no wonder that justice in Australia is becoming a mere memory. (Thank goodness that if I get Alzheimers I’ll lose my recent memory first!)

I have complained to the ABC about their misleading reporting. I wonder if they even bothered to go to Port Augusta. It sounds like the script was already written.

I think there should be an enquiry into today’s brutality. Perhaps too into the ABC.

Regards, Allan Nield 20 Charles Avenue Whyalla 5600. Phone 08 8645 4397

"Shaun" wrote to Baxter Watch web site:

Well, as a police officer present during Baxter 2003, I have to say you guys put up a pitiful effort. No cohesion, no determination. Better luck next time.

Shaun.

Response to 'Shaun' + Poems "Police State"

To Shaun and fellow police officers with Shauns belief, and others who have already responded to you.. (such as... "Police ridiculed themselves time and time again. What an incredible display of paranoia by the SA Police and the Australian Protective Services. And what a brilliant use of funds").

Your comments reveal an unfortunate attitude from (some) police that their job is to control and silence free speech and seeing it as a "contest". It's pretty alarming coming from our "defenders of law and order".

After a lifetime of law abiding and respect for police I've changed my mind after the unprovoked attack by police near Baxter on Good Friday. They are extremely fortunate that 99% of the "defenders of human rights" present were responsible, tolerant people otherwise someone could have been seriously hurt. I will follow this up with the SA police and have complained to our premier about his insulting "feral" statements. Am still waiting for his public apology.

The other thing which Shaun and (some of) his superiors have yet to understand is the "grass roots" nature of defenders of human rights in Australia now. People from all backgrounds are so alarmed with Government sponsored injustice they are speaking out whenever they can. Many groups plus individuals converged at Baxter. The police seemed to only know brute force response against an organisation where they could target the leaders. They must learn to act with JUSTICE not force as their first response. They must learn to negotiate in this new environment of a peoples justice movement.

A couple of poems attached which express my feelings. Dedicated to Shaun and his fellows and their better education...

Regards, Allan.
S.A. Police State - Good Friday 2003

Police are never law-less, with batons and spotlights,
And they can blame the horses, when they trample on our rights.

Helmets, horses, man and beast, were lined up straight, and strong,
"Move camp" they asked the protesters, who said "we won’t be long".

But long or short was not enough, for guardians of the law,
And disciplined with measured step, we watched them come in awe.

Pull up the tents, the cry was shrill, for your possessions dive,
The juggernaut is rolling, and it seems it’s stuck in drive!

And horrified with frozen stare, through dust and cries we viewed,
Relentless guided horses hooves, and tents and contents strewed.

And who I ask myself again, would call that stupid move?
Except it was a grown man, with manhood yet to prove.

Police can not be blameless, with batons and spotlights,
For they can’t blame the horses, when they trample on our rights.


S.A. Police State - Easter Sunday 2003

The humble tripod had its day, in year two thou’ and three,
When State Police had nought to do, but hassle and decree.
The Easter days were warm and clear, and those defending rights,
Of prisoners at Baxter Hell, were camped three days and nights.

The helicopter flying round, kept them awake at night,
With sorties over sleeper’s tents, and searching bright spotlight.
A camper then one morning, shot the chopper out the sky,
With one leg of his tripod, as it noisily roared by.

A message flashed unerringly, to troops back at the fort,
"Get the star force up here quick", I’ve been shot in the port.
Later our heroes from the fort, burst on the camping scene,
With batons, shields and riot gear, machine guns in between.

"Throw down your guns" their spokesman yelled, "We know you’re there, come out.
Put your hands up in the air, we’ll show you who’s got clout."
The campers were all shaken, by this murderous looking foe,
They hadn’t seen so many guns, since John Wayne's cowboy show.

They didn’t quite know what to do, to weep or laugh out loud.
P’raps a circus was in town, to entertain the crowd?
The question was well answered, by the grim unblinking stare,
Where is the weapon? Bring it out. We know its hidden there.

It took a while to calm them down, and show the deadly gun,
A bit of skylark from a youth, a little over done!
They could’ve lived another week, from egg left on their face,
But is that all, just shrug it off, or name it a disgrace?

It seems the friendly copper, is a relic of the past,
Who knew a dimple’s on your face, and never on your last.
If you want to crack an almond, with a kernel to be found,
Then use a LITTLE hammer, not one weighing 20 pound!