My name is Leesl. I am 33. I am a social worker. I have worked in community services in paid and voluntary capacities for the past 11 years. I am currently employed in a not for profit organisation as a community development worker. I am also deeply connected to the Christian tradition.
My vocation has lead me into contact with many people who have survived war and a big part of the reason that I stand here today. Timorese, Kosavars, Congolese, Kurds, Iraqis, Afghans. When we met, at first we were strangers. Different. Other. But it never took long for our sameness to become evident. The same need for safety. The same desire to live in peace and with dignity, to have meaningful work and to get some enjoyment out of life.
It is only when we keep the sameness of the other at a distance, that we can accept that dropping bombs on them is okay, and not worth making a fuss about. It’s only when we can’t imagine that the Fatimas, the Mohamads and Ali’s of Afghanistan are in many ways just like us, that we can live like it doesn’t matter that they are being killed every day.
I like many other people here today and in the broader community feel disempowered. Despite our protests, our submissions, our votes, our letters, our government continues to pursue the path of war in Afghanistan. When will our leaders learn that you can’t bomb world to peace? Surely with our collective intelligence we can imagine better ways of doing things. What would happen, I wonder, if the billons of dollars spent on war by Australia and other nations was redirected to supporting the civilian society to meet their own basic needs and build a peaceful nation. For it is poverty that breeds insecurity, conflict and war.
I sat in front of the gates of Swan Island as one way of honouring the victims and survivors of this war. I wanted to acknowledge their connection to all of us as human beings. I wanted another way of being able to say that our involvement in this war is not okay and that we need to pursue a different path.
