This is an excellent book that is weighed down, ever so slightly, by its being entirely addressed to the academe. Which is to say: Aileen Moreton-Robinson has identified a ‘gap in the literature’, and this book works to help fill that gap. A noble and good goal unto itself, but one that tends to temper some of the book’s sharpest insights and critiques. So what is that gap anyway? Essentially, a gap in the literature on whiteness studies, in which, for all its commendable and incisive research into themes of migration, slavery, and capital, has tended to leave the issue of indigeneity by the wayside. Such then, is Moreton-Robinson’s project in these tightly argued and wide-ranging collection of essays: to bring the indigenous back into focus, and to ensure the place of indigenous struggle as central to the study of whiteness.
As a writer of the Goenpul, Quandamooka First Nations peoples in Queensland, Australia, Moreton-Robinson’s attention is unsurprisingly antipodean, and most of the social and political analysis here is set during the Prime Ministership of John Howard (1996-2007), despite the 2015 publication of the book itself. This hardly makes the book dated however, given that much of what is discussed in here has maintained its effects into the present (2023). From court cases whose results remain the law of the land, to the repercussions of the ‘original’ act of possession by Captain James Cook - quite literally, the man landed on an Island off the Australian coast and named it Possession - what history there is here is the history of us. And I wasn’t kidding about wide-ranging: other essays here examine Australian beach culture, the politicking around the UN Declaration of the Rights of Indigenous Peoples, as well as a micro-study of an Indigenous nurse’s experience of maddening racism in the Australian hospital system - among other things.
As for what these all have in common, it’s precisely the ways in which, across all these disparate situations in time, scale, and place, indigenous issues find themselves buried beneath avalanches, large and small, of whiteness. Largely taking up the framework provided by Cheryl I. Harris’ groundbreaking essay, “Whiteness as Property”, which dealt with the ways in which the possession of whiteness skewed - and continues to skew - distributions of social outcomes in the US along racial lines, Moreton-Robinson’s contribution here is to have extended these analyses to take into account the specificity of indigenous issues. As she argues here, at stake for the indigenous are questions of sovereignty, belonging, and land. In a country which likes to define itself by its migrant heritage and multicultural posturing, the question of sovereignty - Whose sovereignty? Under whose terms? Over what land? - is precisely ruled out of play by this otherwise liberal and all-too ‘culturalist’ understanding of nationhood.
After all, land and its dispossession simply isn’t something over which appeals to ‘cultural belonging’ can allay. In this sense, in the context of local scholarship, Moreton-Robinson similarly extends the work of Ghassan Hage, whose indispensable work on pitfalls of Australian multiculturalism never quite got around to tackling the glaring issue of First Nations co-belonging. For all their usefulness however, that these essays are largely framed as a matter of hole-plugging the literature, has the effect of blunting the force of book’s otherwise trenchant critiques. There’s a sense in which many of the essays here feel a bit like an effort at cataloging, rather than say, developing, to the end, the implications of linking whiteness, indigeneity, and property. In what could have broadened out into a critique of the state-form itself, for instance, did the last essay on the UN simply turn instead to critiquing the hypocrisies of particular states (the US, Canada, Australia, and New Zealand). It’s these kinds of (very minor) missed opportunities that, I think, could have made this work even better than the already very good work that it is.