PEN Melbourne Journal 2023

Promoting literature, defending freedom of expression

Acknowledgment

PEN Melbourne respectfully acknowledges the Traditional Owners of the land on which we work, the Boon Wurrung and Woi Wurrung peoples of the Kulin Nation. We pay respect to Elders past and present. We acknowledge all Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples, their cultures and their unbroken connection to land and community. Sovereignty of this land has never been ceded.

PEN Melbourne Committee

PEN Melbourne Patron

Arnold Zable

PEN Melbourne Ambassador-at-Large

Sami Shah

President

Christine McKenzie

Vice-President

Mammad Aidani

Treasurer

Ben Quin CPA

Secretary

Adele Duffy

Writers in Prison Convenors

Jackie Mansourian and Josephine Scicluna

Membership and Communications

Paul Morgan

Writers for Peace Committee and Website Coordinator

Con Pakavakis

Publications

Zara Gudnason

PEN Melbourne Life Members

Behrouz Boochani, Judith Buckrich, Lucina Kathmann, Judith Rodríguez (1936 - 2018), Tom Shapcott, Rosa Vasseghi, Arnold Zable

PEN Melbourne Honorary Members

Wajeha al-Huwaider, Julian Assange, Seedy Bojang, Behrouz Boochani, Busra Erslani, Natalia Radzina, Mahvash Sabet, Nedim Türfent, Ragip Zarakolu, Zhang Jianhong (1958-2010)

International PEN Melbourne Journal

ISSN: 26525267

Editors

Zara Gudnason and Josephine Scicluna

Editorial Advisor

Christine McKenzie

Additional Editing

Paul Morgan, Jackie Mansourian, Mikaelie Evans and Josephine Banner

Designer Jordan Ross jordanross.com.au

PEN Melbourne

The Wheeler Centre 176 Little Lonsdale Street

Melbourne VIC 3000

communications@penmelbourne.org www.penmelbourne.org

The opinions in the publication are those of the individual authors and are not necessarily endorsed by the editors and the PEN Melbourne Committee.

The Copyright Agency’s Cultural Fund has supported this issue by assisting PEN Melbourne to pay writers for their work.

President’s Note

We leave base camp and start our trek across this vast country. We invite you to walk with us in a movement of the Australian people for a better future. Uluru Statement from the Heart.

As I write, the Referendum is upon us . 14 October 2023 is the day when Australians vote for change, one that’s been a long time coming. ‘Trek’ implies a challenge and one that may be arduous but it’s a walk with a destination in mind. The wheels of change turn slowly and Australians have been invited to walk towards a better future together.

VOICE reflects PEN’s philosophy: freedom of expression. PEN Melbourne committee members have considered the various positions put forward by proponents for the YES and the NO vote at the referendum and we have come out in support of the YES vote.

A Voice enshrined in the constitution represents the first of the reforms asked for by First Nations peoples in the Uluru Statement from the Heart—“to empower our people and take a rightful place in our own country.” The establishment of a Makarrata Commission to supervise agreement-making as in Treaty and truth-telling about our (shared) history are to follow, and at this stage the ‘trek’ will be well and truly underway, and hopefully will be undertaken in the generous spirit offered to Australians in the Uluru Statement.

PEN Melbourne calls for spokespeople of both persuasions to express their views peaceably without falling into the trap of promoting ‘mendacious publication, deliberate falsehood and distortion of facts for political and personal ends’ (PEN International Charter). Be reminded that the Voice referendum is history in the making and your vote counts.

The writers and activists we’ve gathered in this journal speak to the work of PEN in various ways—please take the time to explore the voices gathered here in poetry and prose and conversation. At the heart of PEN’s work is solidarity with those whose voices are silenced by authoritarian regimes and increasingly by democratic governments who stifle and threaten dissent. Be assured that PEN will continue to campaign for these cases in countries where persecution is brutal and unjust, and here in Australia where we support whistleblowers who risk much to expose wrongdoing by Australian institutions.

Julian Assange remains top of mind for PEN Melbourne. Enough is not enough, we want action.

John Shipton says: Fighting for Julian’s freedom embodies for all people iron hard determination to assert, and to continue to assert evermore our indelible, inalienable rights.

Thank you to all PEN Melbourne members who have joined and continue to rejoin each year. Your financial support is essential and your active voice is a powerful endorsement of our work on behalf of those who cannot speak freely. Thank you to all who contribute to our campaigns, write letters to fellow writers in prison, to authorities and turn up to protest actions.

A strength of PEN Melbourne is the community of writers who freely bring their professional skills and give their time to our work. VOICE is the work of volunteers and has been creatively produced by the generous editing team of Zara Gudnason, Josephine Scicluna, Jackie Mansourian, Paul Morgan and designer Jordan Ross.

To the PEN Melbourne Committee, Arnold Zable our Patron, Sami Shah our Ambassador: I cannot imagine a more splendid and creative group to work alongside.

Christine McKenzie President, International PEN Melbourne Centre

Ambassador’s Note Freedom of Voice is Freedom of Speech.

Sami Shah

Voice to Parliament has been framed in many ways by its many defenders: as a human rights issue, an issue of equity, one of reparations, of a more equal future. And, of course, critics have found their own myriad concerns reflected back at them: of complexity diluting the constitution, of divisiveness, tokenism, and impracticality. Both sides are right on all these things. There are indeed human rights issues at play here, as well as equity, reparations, and a more equal future on offer. There is also the likelihood of complexifying the constitution, of division that is always at the heart of Indigenous issues when considered in the wider public arena, and maybe even some impracticality in thinking it will solve all problems, as some of its defenders tend to frame it.

And then there is, as is in all things these days, an attempt to vilify and diminish each side down to baser motivations. The Yes campaign is motivated by ‘wokeism’ and opportunism and white guilt. The No campaign is full of racists, opportunists, and Tony Abbott. There is also some truth to these arguments. A few on the Yes side are indeed individuals using it to enhance their own stature, or institutions hoping it will camouflage their own endemic issues. And a few on the No side are definitely staunch racists, self-promoting hucksters, and Tony Abbott.

For me, however, there is a simpler metric by which I made my decision regarding Voice to Parliament. As a committed believer of free speech, I measured it by the values I hold dearest and seek to always enhance; values that PEN Melbourne, an organisation dedicated to the freedom of writers, holds dear. The Greeks, who can be rightfully celebrated as the

creators of Free Speech, concocted along with it a means to measure whether or not the freedom of speaking one’s truth was even attainable. Parrhesia refers to the freedom to speak candidly without fear of backlash, while Isegoria signifies the equal right of citizens to participate in public debate. Both principles are central to the work of PEN Melbourne, which champions literature and defends free expression for all.

The lack of Parrhesia for Indigenous Australians is evident in the limited platforms available to express their opinions without fear of reprisal. Mainstream media, much like most other institutions of power in Australia, often underrepresents or misrepresents Indigenous voices and perspectives, creating narratives that rarely align with the realities and concerns of Indigenous communities. Similarly, Isegoria is compromised by the lack of adequate representation of Indigenous Australians in decision-making bodies, with existing political structures failing to account for the unique requirements of Indigenous communities. This results in a lack of meaningful participation in public discourse and decision-making processes, something Yes campaigners have time and again detailed.

Voice is speech, and for those seeking free voices, freer speech even, the choice to vote Yes is a commitment to a central tenet of a democratic society. Voice to Parliament was always going to be divisive. The debate around it was always going to be vigorous. Empowering those still not granted access to full free speech, is a necessary step towards a free voice for us all.

Sami Shah is PEN Melbourne’s Ambassador-at-large. A multi-award winning comedian, writer, journalist and broadcaster, his autobiography, I, Migrant, was nominated for the NSW Premier’s Literary Award, the WA Premier’s Literary Award, and the Russell Prize for Humour Writing.

Writers in Prison

Our work on behalf of writers in prison is always about voice. During the past year much of this work has taken place at grassroots level, particularly in protests over the imprisonment of Julian Assange, an honorary member of PEN Melbourne, including attempts to meet with the UK ambassador and protests outside the UK Consulate in Collins Street, Melbourne. In November 2022, in a joint venture with PEN Sydney and PEN Perth, we met with Graham Perrett MP and staffers at Parliament House, Canberra to introduce the work of PEN International and offer our support to their own human rights advocacy. We raised the cases of Julian Assange, Yang Hengjun, and Cheng Lei – Australian citizens who are currently in prison in the UK and China respectively.

As part of PEN International’s shift to regional operations (rather than Writers in Prison work driven through the HQ in London), action groups have formed. PEN Melbourne is active in groups for Turkey and Iran, meeting regularly online with other centres to share information and

coordinate campaigns. This has strengthened our network and opened up avenues of support we can offer. Via the Turkey Action Group, we were able to commission poetry for this year’s journal from a writer in Kurdistan and organise its translation. Although the conventional Rapid Action Network calls to write letters/ emails to authorities and embassies are not as frequent, this dimension of our work remains crucial. Our most recent call for urgent action was for Peruvian writer, editor, and journalist Paola Ugaz who has been subject to ongoing threats, harassment and defamation lawsuits for her investigation of injustices and human rights abuses. In her acceptance of the 2021 International Women’s Media Foundation Courage in Journalism Award, Ugaz said: ‘my only response to the attacks against me will be more and better journalism’.

We thank our wonderful, dedicated RAN writers who send emails and letters to authorities. If you would like to take part in these actions, or for more information, please email wip@penmelbourne.org.

Josephine Scicluna and Jackie Mansourian are the co-convenors for PEN Melbourne’s Writers in Prison program.

Josephine

Scicluna reflects on the critical work of PEN Melbourne in advocating for imprisoned writers here and abroad.

PEN International’s Ongoing Advocacy: China, Myanmar, and Afghanistan in Focus

Region, reflects on the critical advocacy, campaigning and on the ground work that PEN International has focused on in the past year

Ross

Throughout the first half of 2023, PEN International’s work in the Asia/ Pacific region has continued to focus on responding to the ongoing crises in Afghanistan and Myanmar, while also re-prioritising our advocacy and campaigning work on China. More broadly, we have continued to advocate against the long-term imprisonment of writers throughout the region.

Focusing first on China, we have published several joint statements1 in support of imprisoned writers2 and other freedom of expression issues3, including the removal of books from Hong Kong’s public libraries4. We have also worked alongside English PEN as part of their PENWrites initiative on a solidarity campaign in support of writer and media owner Jimmy Lai on World Press Freedom Day5, resulting in over 130 letters of support being submitted from supporters around the world.

Due to the significant threat posed by the Chinese government to international human rights norms and institutions that underpin the right to freedom of expression, PEN International has also deepened its high-level advocacy work on China, focusing on engagement through the United Nations. Examples of this include joint submissions to the Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination Against Women (CEDAW) committee6 and as part of China’s Universal Periodic Review which is taking place this year. We have also participated at the Human Rights Council (HRC), with examples including our engagement with the UN Special Rapporteurs7 and by supporting Jimmy Lai’s son, Sebastien Lai8, in powerfully addressing the HRC as a representative of PEN International, despite a failed attempt to censor him by China’s delegation9

In Myanmar, the military junta’s brutal repression of the country’s civilian population has forced numerous writers and journalists to live underground or flee the country. In addition to our ongoing work drawing international attention to imprisoned writers10, we have continued to prioritise the provision of emergency grants to those at risk. The tragic passing of PEN Myanmar president, Nyi Pu Lay11, is a painful reminder of the pressing need for these emergency supports. In collaboration with the dedicated team at the PEN Emergency Fund, we have provided urgent support to numerous Myanmar writers and journalists in difficult circumstances.

In Afghanistan, the combination of the Taliban’s repressive rule with an unprecedented humanitarian crisis has had a catastrophic impact on civil society, with women and girls particularly impacted. We continue to highlight cases of the Taliban’s persecution of poets12 and those who advocate13 for the right to education of women and girls, which has been brutally repressed by the Taliban. Working in close collaboration with PEN Centres around the world, PEN International oversaw the evacuation and long-term resettlement of 117 vulnerable Afghans, comprising of PEN Afghanistan members and their families. Currently we are prioritising the provision of emergency grants to at-risk Afghan writers and journalists, while we continue to explore emergency relocation pathways for a small number of vulnerable PEN Afghanistan members.

Elsewhere in the region, we have continued to highlight freedom of expression issues14, with examples including the ongoing clampdown on independent media in Cambodia15, and the targeting of dissident writers in India16

1 PEN International. "PEN International Joins PEN Centres Worldwide in Call for Release of Chinese Writer and Journalist Dong Yuyu." https://www.pen-international.org

2 PEN International. "China: PEN International Joins ICPC and PEN America in Open Letter to Prison Officials Regarding Imprisonment of Poet Lü Gengsong." https://www.pen-international. org/

3 PEN International. "Chinese Authorities Must Release 'Blank Paper' Protesters." https://www. pen-international.org/

4 PEN International. "PEN International & PEN America Denounce the Removal of Books from Hong Kong's Public Libraries." https://www.pen-international.org/

5 PEN International. "World Press Freedom Day 2023." https://www.pen-international.org/

6 PEN International. "PEN International Joins PEN Centres in Reporting to UN Committee on Women Writers in China." https://www.pen-international.org/

7 PEN International. "PEN Raises Writer Jimmy Lai's Case During UN Human Rights Council." https://www.pen-international.org/

8 PEN International. “Son of Jimmy Lai to Address the UNHRC on Behalf of PEN International.” https://www.pen-international.org/

9 Hong Kong Free Press. “China’s Attempt to Interrupt UN Testimony by Son of Detained Hong Kong Media Tycoon Jimmy Lai Rejected.” Hong Kong Free Press, 3 July 2023, https:// hongkongfp.com/

10 PEN International. “Myanmar PEN Member Now Serving 54-Year Prison Sentence.” https:// www.pen-international.org/

11 PEN International. “Myanmar PEN Mourns the Passing of PEN Myanmar President Nyi Pu Lay.” https://www.pen-international.org/

12 PEN International. “Afghanistan Poet Haseeb Ahrari Is Latest Victim of the Taliban’s Unrelenting Crackdown on Civil Society.” https://www.pen-international.org/

13 PEN International. “Afghanistan: Arrest of Girls’ Education Activist Latest Example of Taliban Repression.” https://www.pen-international.org/

14 Peter Z “Thailand Bans Book on King Before Publication.” Voice of America News, 6 August 2023 https://www.voanews.com/

15 PEN International. “Cambodia Authorities Shut Down One of Country’s Last Independent Media Outlets, Undermining Free Expression.” https://www.pen-international.org/

16 PEN International. “India: Writer and Human Rights Defender Teesta Setalvad Faces Imprisonment after Gujarat High Court Refuses Bail Plea.” https://www.pen-international.org/

Holder, PEN International Head of Asia/Pacific

Ross Holder is the Head of Asia/ Pacific Region for PEN International.

Writers for Peace Perhaps writing for peace is succeeding.

- Constantine Pakavakis

The truth about war and its callous crimes against the innocent, exposed by journalists like Julian Assange and whistle-blowers like David McBride, is proving unstoppable. That’s why they are persecuted, why we must defend them and why information must no longer be manipulated and controlled by governments and mainstream media.

Words can put an end to war. Every word for peace counts. Every piece of graffiti, poster, poem, news article, petition, letter . . . every song, novel or movie, every cartoon or artwork . . . every word for peace counts.

Calls for war are failing to sway the youth of today. Our education, our culture, is rediscovering the importance of emotional intelligence in creating a peaceful co-existence with each other.

– Martin Luther King Jr Silence is betrayal.

The Morrison government targeted the arts by doubling the cost of arts degrees, it slashed the budget of the ABC, and then it committed to overpriced nuclear AUKUS submarines that need Australian commanders and crew. With no existing personnel for them, we’re not surprised to see glossy ADF advertising invading family TV, glamourising the job while omitting the dehumanisation training needed for killing without conscience. There is no mention either of suicide, loss of limb, and PTSD rates of war veterans.

The military-industrial complex does not like our words. It makes their war-making harder than it already is. Colonel Wilkerson, former chief of staff to Colin Powell, said recently in an interview with Mary Kostakidis, ‘We can’t field the forces that we need . . . the old volunteer force concept is falling apart, we can’t find young people to serve in the military’.

In the information age, the striking graffiti of Banksy, the timeless lyrics of Lennon, and the myriad words of brave creatives and truth tellers are weaving the fabric of a humanistic world.

John Shipton

Night Fall in the Evening Lands: The Assange Epic.

The most ceaseless hounding, the most unscrupulous lies and the most malicious persecution over 13 years reveals to us a malignant disregard of magnificent civic treasures of human accomplishment.

National Sovereignty, the Himalayan-like Charter of the United Nations, Humanity’s profound secular document, The Universal Declaration of Human Rights, the crucial Conventions of Asylum and lawful Due Process - a shield between the people and the State.

Fighting for Julian’s freedom embodies for all people iron hard determination to assert, and to continue to assert evermore our indelible, inalienable rights.

David McBride

One thing both Defence and I agree on, ironically, is: what I have to say affects our ‘national security’. The difference is they say I’m damaging it by revealing ‘secrets’, whereas I say the ‘secret’ is how corrupt and political they are, even in fighting a war, and as such we have no ‘national security’ anymore, simply a political advertising team disguised as a military.

Julian Assange

We have to educate each other. We have to celebrate those who reveal the truth and denounce those who poison our ability to comprehend the world that we live in. The quality of our discourse is the limit of our civilisation.

Humans have inhibitions against killing other humans, and militaries have to work hard to crush these inhibitions . . . and secondly, it is really hard to get people to be willing to die.

Sharon Clough and Christian Matheis

Constantine Pakavakis is the convenor of PEN Melbourne’s Writers for Peace program.

Preserving Democracy: The Urgent Need for Whistleblower Protection in Australia

Human Rights Law Centre senior lawyer Kieran Pender outlines the urgent need for whistleblower protection in Australia as two Australian whistleblowers face trial

Whistleblowers face many risks when they speak out. Indeed those who do dare speak truth to power often end up losing their family, friends, job and income, at best, or jailed or self-harming at worst. This is why it is so important that protections are in place to help empower whistleblowers to speak out.

Transparency is the lifeblood of democracy. In that task, journalists and their sources are essential. Australia is a better place when our media have the freedom to report without fear or favour, and whistleblowers are protected and empowered to speak up about wrongdoing. In combination, journalists and whistleblowers ensure accountability and justice. They ensure our democracy can flourish.

But right now Australia’s whistleblowers are doing it tough. Research shows that a majority of whistleblowers suffer backlash at work when they raise concerns. When they speak up to journalists and politicians, some are sued by their employers. Laws designed to protect whistleblowers from these adverse consequences are not working–a recent study by the Human Rights Law Centre found not a single successful case brought by a whistleblower under the two flagship federal regimes.

Most concerningly, two Australian whistleblowers are currently on trial. Former Army lawyer David McBride helped expose war crimes committed by Australian forces in Afghanistan. Public servant Richard Boyle revealed aggressive, unethical debt recovery practices at the tax office. Both thought they were doing the right thing, speaking up internally, then to oversight bodies and only going to the media as a last resort. Both have been vindicated by independent inquiries. Both face prison sentences for telling the truth about government wrongdoing.

In November, McBride will face a jury in Canberra. He will be the first person on trial in relation to Australia’s war crimes in Afghanistan – the whistleblower, not an alleged war criminal. Boyle is arguing he is immune from prosecution under whistleblowing law. This defence was rejected by the trial judge, and Boyle’s appeal to the South Australian Court of Appeal was heard in August. A judgement is expected by the end of the year.

There is no public interest in prosecuting whistleblowers. These cases and the wider whistleblowing landscape have a chilling effect on those who witness wrongdoing at work. And when whistleblowers don’t speak up, we all suffer. Imagine the stories we wouldn’t know had brave whistleblowers stayed silent? Imagine what we might not know right now because too many are staying mute in the face of the mistreatment of whistleblowers in Australia.

Recently, the Human Rights Law Centre launched a new legal service, the Whistleblower Project, to help whistleblowers. We will combine our ongoing law reform and advocacy work with direct legal advice and representation to those speaking up about wrongdoing. We want to decrease the cost of courage, helping Australians exercise their legal rights to blow the whistle safely and lawfully.

We hope the Project will make a modest contribution to a stronger Australian democracy. But more is needed. The democratic promise of dedicated whistleblowing laws has not been fulfilled–comprehensive reform is overdue. We also need the federal government to establish a whistleblower protection authority to oversee and enforce the laws. And we need an end to the unjust prosecution of whistleblowers.

– John Ralston Saul

People say that writers are powerless. We don’t have an army. But if that were true, then why would writers be arrested?

Because the spoken word is powerful.

–

Independent

Member for Clark, Andrew Wilkie MP

“

Kieran Pender is a senior lawyer at the Human Rights Law Centre, leading its Whistleblower Project.

To be free, to get rid of the walls...

Nedim Türfent served six years and seven months in Van Prison, Turkey on falsified terrorism charges following a trial where many witnesses said they had been tortured into testifying against him. In this essay, Nedim asks, ‘Should we talk about why they called me a “terrorist” because I love the pen and words?’

Even though I picked up a pen before I started primary school, it was years later that I learned to use it to reflect my own feelings and thoughts. Wherever we breathe in the world, regardless of the colour of our voice, language or skin, as human beings we learn as we grow older.

When I felt that I was using the pen properly, I was writing a poem: the product of a platonic love and I was 15 years old. That first poem made me feel good. What’s more, I had created a product with the feelings overflowing from my heart. I had created a ‘work of art’ by stitching words together, no two alike. What more could I ask for? If only the girl I loved would look at me.

The leaves tore off the calendar one after the other, and I grew up.

I have grey hair; even my beard started turning grey. They call me ‘poet’ now, even though I don’t deserve it and the poet’s shirt is a few sizes too big. Maybe we should leave poetry aside and talk about more serious issues. Should we talk about why they called me a ‘terrorist’ because I love the pen and words?

I was born in Yüksekova in 1990 as a child without the right to education in my mother tongue. This town, in the easternmost part of Turkey, borders Iraq and Iran. There has been a Kurdish problem in Turkey for exactly a century. A problem of democracy and human rights. A problem of freedom of expression and freedom of the press. This century has witnessed revolts and massacres with tens of thousands of people losing their lives and hundreds of thousands more displaced.

Photo: Nedim Türfent

I witnessed one of these processes up close, subjected to racist and fascist attacks and beaten because I was Kurdish. These were my university years and I was still learning. The more I was beaten, the more I learned how heavy my identity was. I was 22 years old in June 2012 when I graduated from university. In the same month I came to my hometown where I learned that the voice of the Kurdish people was not heard enough in Turkey, let alone in the world. With all my heart, I felt I had to do something to make their voices heard.

I took my first step into journalism in July 2012 as a translator at the Dicle News Agency, working in Diyarbakır and Istanbul and learning day by day the importance of the journalistic profession. One learns as one grows up. At the end of 2014, when I returned to Yüksekova, the Erdoğan government had implemented a security-oriented policy. Due to the clashes, even the most basic human rights, especially the right to life, were being violated. When I reported on these violations, Turkish security forces started threatening and harassing me. The threats increased daily.

In August 2015, Special Operations police raided a construction site in Yüksekova in the early hours of the morning and tortured nearly 40 Kurdish workers, making them lie on the ground, half-naked and face down. ‘You will see the power of the Turk!’ the police chief told them. After I reported on this,l Pandora’s box opened. Threats and harassment became systematic.

In early 2016, months-long curfews began in Yüksekova. Constant armed clashes and rights violations occurred in the city centre. When I refused to give up my journalistic duty, Turkish police threatened me with death. Nevertheless, I continued to write and on 12 May 2016, I was detained under torture. I was in imminent danger of death. Even though my family, lawyers, journalism and human rights organisations called the police, they denied detaining me. Hours later, they admitted it. They put a black bag over my head, took me to a hill and debated whether to kill me or not. I was subjected to verbal and physical torture and then taken to Yüksekova Security Directorate. The next day I was arrested by the court.

Thus began a long prison term. For 13 months I waited for my indictment to be prepared. The trial was held under a state of emergency. My defence in Kurdish, my mother tongue, was not translated properly. I attended the hearings via video conferencing and despite my repeated requests, they did not allow me to physically attend the court even once. My case contained only journalistic activities. The witnesses the prosecution brought before me told the judges that the police had tortured them to testify against me. All the statements were refuted by the witnesses themselves, one by one, revealing the dirty game in court.

When the conspiracy was exposed, one of the judges ruled for my release, while two others ruled for my continued detention. At the final hearing, the judge who had ordered my release was absent. Some ‘magic hands’ had removed him. The court sentenced me to 8 years and 9 months for ‘membership of a terrorist organisation’ without a shred of evidence. In the justified verdict, they admitted why they had imposed the sentence: ‘Nedim Türfent was punished for reporting disturbing news’.

We appealed to the Constitutional Court, the highest court at the time, who, invoking a call from Academics for Peace for an end to clashes between Kurdish and Turkish forces, ruled: ‘Expressions written for the purpose of reporting news do not constitute a crime even if they are shocking and disturbing’. In other words, my sentence should have been overturned. But the magic hands did not allow it. Then in 2019, a judicial reform package was passed and the same phrase from the Constitutional Court ruling was added to the anti-terrorism law. In other words, again my sentence should have been overturned.

We took the sentence to the European Court of Human Rights. I stayed behind four walls for 6 years and 7 months, but the ECHR did not give me an answer. On November 29, 2022 I was released. The ECHR has still not put my case on its agenda. There is a Kurdish proverb, ‘Mirov nizane wext çawa derbas bû’, which means ‘clear and countable days pass quickly’. Count the days and think about it: when you have been imprisoned unlawfully and unjustly for so long, do the days pass quickly? Imagine – I believe in your imagination.

Close your eyes and imagine life between four walls: the weight and difficulty of this life. When I reported on the rights violations in prison, they took me from the normal wards and put me in a solitary cell for 18 months. Then international freedom of expression and press freedom organisations began organising and the colour of things changed. A valuable support and solidarity network formed from Mexico to Norway, from Wales to Australia. Those who tried to silence me realised much later that my voice had reached all corners of the world. In a way, this is a funny part of my story – if you can laugh.

Humour. If you are within the four walls of the State, don’t say ‘there is nothing to laugh about’. The funniest anecdotes arise where the walls are the hardest and thickest. Whether these walls are mental, social, bureaucratic, or a dungeon’s. The longest distance between these walls in my ward was 11 steps. I had to turn back after 11 steps to avoid hitting the wall.

It’s not that bad, don’t grimace – please let flowers bloom on your face. You learn to look at the walls and overcome them through words, humorous stories, books, poetry, and letters. The last two deserve a special mention: poetry and letters. The biggest supporters of my survival were the letters I received from all over the world and the poetry, which gave me a breath of fresh air. Both have a direct contact with imagination. Many people you have no contact with touch you through

a letter. You destroy and demolish the four walls with a poem: a work of imagination.

Believe me when I say that poetry has been my oxygen tank. In that grotesque well of injustice, poetry was my lifeblood. I have realised that one does not grow and learn without real contact with poetry. Even if the Leviathan monster tries to take you in its palm and suffocate you, if you have words in your hand, your windpipe will always remain open. As long as you do not choose to remain silent.

In short, believe in the power of your words, even their timbre is enough to show how meaningless borders are. Let me give you a concrete example. Before the international campaigns and letters, the guards would throw my belongings on the floor and search them. However, during the campaign, they had to think twice because they were worried that ‘if we do something, it will get an international reaction’. So it made my life easier inside. Don’t take any of your actions for granted. They mattered.

Years ago, when I picked up my pen and started writing, I did not know that these things would happen to me. The State called me a ‘terrorist’. People here and around the world call me a ‘journalist’ or a ‘poet’. I am a labourer of the pen and I try to write as much as I can, as much as I can afford to. To be free, to get rid of the walls . . .

Nedim Türfent is a poet, journalist and editor at https://bianet.org. His first poetry book Bird Mirror was published in Turkey in 2021 and in 2022, his book of poems and writings Über Mauern was published in Germany. He is an honorary member of PEN Melbourne.

1

Constitute

Ellen van Neerven

This is not a place where we can grow old. We offer ourselves as witness. Document this. The nation is a storage unit of death A lack of light shines on our stories.

2

We were told don’t wake the dog. It’s sleeping. Do not disturb. But the structural nature of their problem needs to be prodded. Eyes prized wide open. To be part of a whole.

3

We turned their language inside and out. Wringed it out like a wet cloth. Placed it in the pocket of a twelve-year-old girl. Growing on Yugambeh land in a commission flat

4

To write my name, I say Country

To write my address I say I am my mother’s We are enshrined in symbolism. A matriarch paints Survival. Sand rushes through our hands.

5

All the time, a total feeling of intrusion. This inner pressure valve. This border of neo-nationalism. Who will be the next casualties of progress?

Can’t control the spit, can’t turn off the TV.

6

Law is only as strong as its whole truth

Patient Elders wait under trees after Struggled lives under government control. Certified to dream. We reach for Ancestral

7

Inspiration. Before candles there were embers

How many voices? And whose

To historise. It is also about our dignity. Surged this one day of our lives.

Ellen van Neerven is a Mununjali writer and the author of Heat and Light, Comfort Food, Throat and Personal Score.

Four poems

Mizgîn Ronak

Şeva Bagerê

bager dike zingezing li xebroşkên eywanan

cam bi baran in çivîk nizanin xwe li ku veşêrin

îşev bager tevlî bayên dilê min dibe

li ser xanî û kolanan digere

her tişt dilerize di hembêza şevê de em çivîkên demê ne me baskên xwe vekir

bagerê ka me bibe belkî havîn li hin deran mabe em çivîkên bi hêvî ne

The Night of The Storm

the wind rattles in the fairy tales of balconies the windows are wet, the birds don’t know where to hide the storm joins the winds of my heart tonight it wanders over houses and lanes everything is shaking in the embrace of the night we are the birds of time, we opened our wings hey Windstorm! maybe summer has remained somewhere take us there, we are birds that have hope.

Bi hev re Bûn

lingên xwe dan hev

ji bo ku ji mayinan derbas bibin

destên xwe dan hev

ji bo ku ji şevê derbas bibin

xwe li nava striyan gevizandin

ji bo ku jana can bikeve pêşiya jana dil

ji bo ku serê wan hinekî xweş be

lingên xwe dan hev

ji bo ku ji mayinan derbas bin

peyv şîrîn bûn li ser lêvên wan!..

Collaboration

they started walking together to pass through the mines they held hands to pass through the night they rolled on the thorns so that the pain of the body suppress the pain of the heart so that the grief of their souls can be relieved they started walking together to pass through the mines words turned into melodies on their lips!..

We offer our immense thanks to Omer Fîdan, Co-Chair of Kurdish PEN Centre, Kurdistan, for facilitating the commission and translation of Mizgîn Ronak’s poetry. We stand in solidarity with our friends at Kurdish PEN and their ongoing struggle for recognition of their voices, their language.

Venemirîne

roniyê venemirîne

ez ê werim

bila şev be

bahoz û bager be

dûr bin şax û baxçe

xem nîne

roniyê venemirîne

ez ê werim

bila sal û zeman ketibe navbera me

mijangên me girtî bin

cemidî bin mijangên me li bin berfê

guleyekê rê çêkiribe ji xwe re li singa me

xem nîne

roniyê venemirîne

ez ê werim

belkî wekî giyanek koçber

belkî bi merhebeyeke berfînekê

belkî ri girtina rêyên zivistanê

belkî bi nehatina xebereke xweş

xem nîne ez ê werim

roniyê venemirîne

ez ê werim

bila pênûs bê hubr mabin

çivîkan firîn ji bîr kiribin

ez ê qeyikên helbestê bi rê bixim

perçeyên dilê xwe berhev bikim

bêhna hineya porê xwe li kemanekê bar bikim

û werim

bes tu roniyê venemirîne

hêviya xwe ya bihardiz neqedîne

û li benda min be

teqez e soza evîndaran

Don’t Turn off the Light

don’t turn off the light I will come let it be night be stormy and windy let branches and gardens be away don’t worry

don’t turn off the light

I will come let years and years pull us apart our eyelashes are closed frozen under the snow a bullet makes its way to our chest don’t worry

don’t turn off the light

I will come perhaps as a migrant soul perhaps with the hello of a snowdrop perhaps even though the roads are closed in winter perhaps like good news that arrives late I will come don’t worry don’t turn off the light

I will come let the pens remain without ink let the birds forget to fly

I will sail the boats of poetry collect the pieces of my heart load the scent of henna of my hair on a violin and I will come as long as you don’t turn off the light don’t lose your hope that steals the spring and wait for me the promise of lovers is sure

Mizgîn Ronak is a Kurdish writer. In 1992 she was arrested and sentenced to life imprisonment in Turkey. She was released this year after being in prison for 30 years. Now she lives in Amed/Diyarbakır and is fighting breast cancer. Her book, We became Rain, was banned in 2016. Her other books, The Guard of Roses in Kobanê, Rojhat, and We are the Gorçiya (those whose graves are on the mountains), were all banned in 2018.

Translator: Netîce Altûn Demîr

Netîce Altûn Demîr has a master’s degree in English Language and Education from the Department of Foreign Languages at the University of Çukurova in Turkey. Currently, she is doing her PhD in Linguistics. In addition to her academic articles, her English, Turkish and Kurdish (Kirmanjki and Kurmanji) short story, poetry and prose translations have been published in many magazines so far. She is currently living as a political refugee in Switzerland.

The Silence of Poetry

Judith Morrison

for Mahvash Sabet-an Iranian imprisoned poet a response to her poem ‘The Perfume of Poetry’

I read your poem it pierced my heart deeply a rushing wind thundered at the window a thousand tears racked my body the alchemy of time separates us in so many ways you speak of women holding fast

to all that life and death permits shackled to dreams that roam within prison walls

to all that is small silent the pomegranate*tree waits to blossom again

*In Iranian culture the pomegranate is greatly revered

Judith Morrison is a Melbourne poet and long time member of PEN Melbourne.

A letter to Mahvash

Kylie Moore-Gilbert writes to Iranian Baha’i teacher and poet Mahvash Sabet who was arrested in 2022 by the Iranian authorities for her faith and sentenced to 10 years in Evin prison. She previously endured 10 years in prison for the same charges. In 2008, lawyer and Nobel Laureate Dr Shirin Ebadi said that there was not a ‘shred of evidence’ for the accusations.

Dearest Khanum-e Mahvash jan,

When PEN asked me to write to you, I was honoured. But I also felt nervous.

How does one write to a living legend? What words of consolation or hope can I possibly offer to someone who has already spent more than a decade of her life as a beacon of courage? How can I offer my wisdom to someone who already personifies integrity and quiet strength in suffering?

I want to add more than words of admiration, no doubt uttered by so many before me that I fear they will be deflected or met with numb politeness. It is truly a rare and exemplary person who is willing to go to prison for their beliefs; who is willing to sacrifice liberty, that most under-valued of commodities, rather than live with the knowledge that they abandoned what they know to be truth.

As I read your poetry I sense in my heart that the same spirit which saw you relinquish the comforts of ordinary life for the deprivations of Evin still burns within you, in spite of the years. As we both know too well, prison can open the soul of a prisoner and impart to the world aspects of themselves they did not realise were inside them, or perhaps had preferred to keep hidden. I wonder, were these poems always inside you Mahvash jan, or did they reveal themselves only after that initial haze of fear and panic abated, and you began to observe and perceive the inner workings of the bleak new life into which you had been thrust? Your poetry is searing, haunting, and against all odds, offers hope. It is an exquisite gift.

We learn so much about ourselves when we endure hardship, and when we eventually take these precious little nuggets of understanding with us back into the almost-mythical world outside we need to safeguard them well, lest they be forgotten, overlooked or lost. If I could speak with you, I would ask you what you have learnt, and how your suffering has transformed you in positive ways. I would seek to imbue a little of your strength and wisdom, and in doing so, find succour in your insights. I would say that so many people are thinking of you all over the world, and that you and your cause have never been forsaken, abandoned or forgotten (no matter what ‘they’ tell you).

Here in that otherworldly place of freedom, we are reaching out our hands and our hearts toward you, and toward all the brave women of Evin. Think of us, your admirers and your supporters, in those invariable moments of darkness. You are cherished, you are valued, and you are not alone.

With love, Kylie Moore-Gilbert

Australian academic Kylie Moore-Gilbert spent two years of a ten-year sentence in some of Iran’s harshest prisons on false espionage charges. She was released and returned to Australia in November 2020. Kylie’s book The Uncaged Sky: My 804 Days in an Iranian Prison was published in 2022.

Mahvash Sabet is an honorary member of PEN Melbourne. We continue to campaign for her freedom.

oppression, human rights abuses and censorship’

Since the tragic death of Mahsa Amini in September 2022 at the hands of the regime’s Morality Police, which ignited the ‘Woman. Life. Freedom’ Revolution, the regime has targeted and sought to silence many young critics. One is Toomaj Salehi, a rapper whose lyrics directly criticise corruption, class division, poverty, and state executions. His bravery in sharply criticising authorities for suppressing the people without respect for their rights and well-being symbolises the heart of this revolution amongst young and older Iranians. Salehi was arrested on October 2022 amid protests that erupted following Mahsa Amini’s death in September.

For Toomaj Salehi

The Iranian Islamic regime sentenced Toomaj Salehi to a six years and three months sentence after he was subjected to 252 days of solitary confinement, fearing the death sentence. The regime has been trying to silence Toomaj, but his voice has become increasingly vital for demanding freedom amongst Iranians and the international community. When this regime closed the prison door on Toomaj, millions of hearts were opened to him. The regime tried to destroy him in prison, but his popularity and love for his music have soared during this time. The voice and content of Toomaj’s songs proved again that no one can oppose the power of art; any attempt made against authentic, determined, and

committed artists is rendered ineffective and is destined to fail.

The oppressors have nothing to offer except closing doors to freedom and justice. The Islamic regime aimed to subject Toomaj (and other brave Iranian artists, intellectuals, and human rights activists) to suffering, and ultimately annihilate him. To achieve this, the regime initially intended to give him the death sentence but, due to a vigorous and intense campaign for his freedom, could not do so and instead sentenced him to six years and three months. Toomaj and any critics of this regime must not spend even a day in detention because of the opinions that they express.

Toomaj and others like him are present everywhere. Their songs, writings, and voices remind the regime and indifferent Iranians that they will ultimately be the losers. Toomaj’s songs have been like candles that flame the hope and determination in the hearts of the Iranian people, driving them towards the pursuit of freedom, justice, and democracy. Iranians know the power of Toomaj’s songs and his warmth, humility, and unwavering determination. These qualities strengthen their resolve to persist in their resistance against the brutal regime. Toomaj’s music enriches their hope for a future where they can live in freedom and peace, not just within their own country but also in harmony with the rest of the world.

‘No

Dictators do not understand

Mammad Aidani writes about the powerful voice of Toomaj Salehi and the Iranian Islamic Regime’s attempt to silence him.

Mammad Aidani is the Vice-President of PEN Melbourne.

If you don't know, go and look it up

PEN Melbourne’s Jackie Mansourian speaks to Victorian Aboriginal Community Controlled Health Organisation Inc (VACCHO) CEO, Aunty Jill Gallagher AO about the upcoming Referendum on the Indigenous Voice to Parliament, how hope is a key ingredient for wellbeing, and why voting “yes” is an opportunity to do the right thing.

PEN: I begin by acknowledging that we're on Wurundjeri Woi Wurrung Country and we are privileged to live on this country and to learn from the First Peoples of Australia. As PEN Melbourne supports the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Voice to Parliament . . . I acknowledge your strengths Aunty Jill and I know you've been part of the struggle for justice for Aboriginal people for a long time.

You were there at the Uluru Convention in 2017 as a Victorian delegate. Can you describe the process of reaching the agreement around the statement, what that felt like in the room and amongst the delegates?

JG: Yes, it was an incredible time and I feel very, very privileged to have been part of it. There was a great deal of enthusiasm. More importantly, I think there was a lot of hope and excitement in the room. Of course there was a lot of debate and discussion but in the end, the people who attended Uluru actually decided on what we now know as the Uluru Statement From the Heart and it's just amazing.

I didn't stay right until the end, I have to admit, to see the final product. But my colleague and I were boarding a plane to come back to Melbourne and just before we took off another colleague, still at the dialogue, texted me the final Uluru Statement. We read it on my phone, and I just couldn't help it, tears were flowing down my cheeks to see that final product. I mean, as we see today, it was an amazing feeling to see the words and the ask.

PEN: Aunty Jill, you're a health advocate also and we know that there's a body of evidence that shows that when people are involved in the decisions that affect their lives, we are stronger, we are more well, we are healthier. Has some of that also influenced your work around the importance of the Voice?

JG: Very much so. You know, when you look at the history of this country, our people – my ancestors – have lived on this continent for thousands of generations. We walked to Tasmania. We witnessed megafauna and we hunted megafauna, dinosaurs , and we witnessed volcanoes erupting so it's not as if we weren't here.

Then at colonisation, every inch of our life as Aboriginal communities was controlled. You know, we were rounded up and put on missions, we were told when to go to sleep, when to eat. Our women were told whether they could

see their children or not. So you have 250 years of disempowerment and no proper recognition of us as the First Peoples, of course it’s going to have a big impact on our health and well-being. There’s proven evidence, even here at VACCHO, when we are in control of coming up with solutions to some of the big, big health issues that we face. There is proven evidence that if we're in the driver's seat, we get better outcomes.

PEN: And that's partly the reflection and the power of the Voice at the Federal level as well.

JG: Very much so.

PEN: We can see why the Voice matters to First Nations people, Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people. Why do you think it should matter to nonIndigenous people?

JG: Before I answer that, I just want to mention apart from health and wellbeing outcomes for our people if we're successful with the referendum, the most important ingredient in anyone's wellbeing is hope. When I look at my mother's life, she is still alive, she was born back in a day when it wasn't safe to be Aboriginal. She felt the weight of hate and discrimination. She lived on one of those missions and she's still alive and still has the faculties to talk about that today. But that hope when I speak to my mum, and it was just about a month ago that I spoke to her about the Voice, the hope that I saw in her and all she could say to me was ‘it is about time’.

So going back to your original question about why the Voice has benefits for all Australians. When I was growing up, I learned, when I did go to school which wasn't often but anyway, I did learn about the ancient Greeks and I learned about the Egyptians and other ancient Indigenous cultures on the globe. But I didn't learn anything in Australia about the ancient amazing cultures of the First Peoples of this continent.

You know, when you go to Greece, the Greeks are proud of their ancient cultures. In Egypt they are proud of their ancient cultures. I don't see a lot of Australians being proud of their ancient culture that they have in their own backyard. It would be amazing to see Australian children, both Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal, learning about the ancient wisdom of the cultures that lived here on this continent. So to me, having a voice, it's for all Australians to feel

that they are part of our culture. Because they are Australian. And you know, it also sends a very strong picture internationally that Australia is just not an England in the sun.

PEN: The discourse around the Voice, particularly on social media, is more than negative. The racism that is playing itself out. It's like wherever we scratch a little bit on the surface when we're talking about Aboriginal matters, that racism comes out. Noel Pearson in the Boyer Lectures talked about being a hated people, and what a hard thing that is to hear and to say. What do you think the impact of the hate and the racism is on Aboriginal people who are actively engaged [in discussions about the Voice]?

JG: I think racism has a profound impact on our health and wellbeing and it's not just my say-so as there's a lot of research out there that's been done over the years. I spoke about my mother, Francis Gallagher, just before you know, and she grew up in an era where racism was very out there and blatant and so did a lot of other Aboriginal people in mum's age group, but not a lot of them have survived to live to an age of 97. I mean, my mother experienced racism that would be hard for me to fathom or understand how that would impact on me.

When you look at an Aboriginal woman who couldn't get an education, who couldn't get a job, who had six of her 10 children taken off her and put

into institutions and how she grew up with that trauma that comes with the impacts of that. I mean, I remember when I was a kid, the only source of employment my mother could get was seasonal picking. So as a result of that, I went to 19 different primary schools. So racism has a big negative impact and over 250 years, you see that transgenerational trauma gets handed down. That's why you see the over-representation of our children in out-of-home care, that's why you see the over-representation of our people in custody.

What this debate around whether we should be recognised in the Constitution or have the Voice to Parliament has brought out is blatant racism yet again. A lot of it went underground, was hidden and it wasn't as blatant. Now it's all come out and it is impacting us as Aboriginal people. I would say it's also impacting non-Aboriginal Australians also, and what we can do about it is, I think, recognise that we can't change the past, but we have to learn from the past and we have got to stop being bystanders. So you know, we’ve got to make change and we've got to get this Voice through because that's what's going to give us the change that we need.

PEN: To stop being bystanders but to be active witnesses as nonIndigenous people, I think we'll take that away as a strong message. We will soon all be receiving information about the Yes and the No positions and the No position is ‘If you don't know, vote no’. How would you offer a different

way for people to respond at the referendum who still have questions and uncertainties about the Voice?

JG: That's a really hard question. I mean, that's a real sneaky slogan. It's shameful if you ask me. Anyways, I would encourage all Australians to arm yourself. Find out what the facts are. If you don't know, go and look it up. There's heaps of websites out there. There's heaps of people who are willing to talk. I'm willing to talk to anyone and give them the facts. But if you don't know, find out because you still got time to find out and vote ‘Yes’.

PEN: How would you like to end this conversation, Aunty Jill? What would you like to tell us?

JG: What would I like to tell you? I'd like to tell all Australia, you have an opportunity here with this referendum to do the right thing, by the First Peoples of this country. You're not losing anything. If anything, you are gaining pride and honour that you are an Australian citizen and that Australia has a long and ancient history that you should be proud of.

That's what the Uluru Statement is saying and that's our gift to you. As all Australians, we can't undo the past. We know that but we can certainly learn from us. Two hundred and fifty years ago, Australia belonged to the First Peoples and now belongs to all Australians and we need to walk together, First Peoples and other Australian citizens. Thank you.

Jill Gallagher AO is a proud Gunditjmara woman from Western Victoria and is an accomplished and experienced strategic leader, championing the needs of the First Nations community. Jill has spent more than 20 years advancing Aboriginal health and wellbeing through her work with VACCHO and has over 30 years of experience in leadership roles. As a respected Aboriginal leader who has dedicated her life to advocating for Community, Jill has been inducted into the Victorian Honour Roll of Women (2009), awarded the Order of Australia (2013), and inducted into the Victorian Aboriginal Honour Roll (2015). From 2016 to 2019, Jill served as Victoria’s first Treaty Advancement Commissioner. Jill received the degree of Doctor of Laws Honoris Causa by the University of Melbourne in 2023.

Jackie Mansourian is the co-convenor for PEN Melbourne’s Writers in Prison program.

Photo: Michael Thomas / Alamy Stock Photo

A letter to Ko Wai Moe Naing

Michelle Aung Thin writes to Burmese writer, politician and activist Ko Wai Moe Naing who has been sentenced to a combined total of 54 years in prison for his opposition to Myanmar’s military junta.

Dear Ko Wai Moe Naing, Warm greetings from Melbourne.

You don’t know me, but I know you. I know that you’re brave. A young man with his life ahead of him. A student leader. A poet. That you’re inventive and witty. And that they call you Panda.

I was born in Burma. Like you, my life and that of my family, was turned upside down by a coup. We left for Canada. Now I live in Melbourne, Australia.

Like you, I am a writer. I am also a eacher of Creative Writing and Communication at RMIT University. Let me tell you, Panda, you are a great communicator.

Who else but a poet would use rhyming antiphons against dictators. Who else but an inventive man could turn banging pots and pans into a potent means of dissent. Who else but a wit would understand that laughter wounds in ways that bullets never can.

Is it any comfort to know that the trumped up charges, extreme sentences, the withholding of legal representation are all proof that your barbs have hit home?

Your colleagues report that you are in good spirits. What this is costing you, I can only guess.

But the strength in being you, Panda, is that people like me like to watch you. We are your audience. And we are still paying attention.

As writers we share a common cause. A civil society, a just society cannot exist without us. So, I am writing to tell you that, even though you don’t know me, whenever I listen to a student’s poem in class, whenever I bang my pots and pans on the stove getting dinner ready, whenever I watch a politician squirm at a satirical joke, I will be thinking of you. And I will keep watch.

Michelle

Michelle Aung Thin was born in Rangoon, Burma, now Yangon, Myanmar but left as an infant with her family for Canada. She is a novelist and an academic at RMIT University. Michelle is currently working on a book that traces how Myanmar’s three coups have shaped ordinary people’s lives. Translator May Kyel Winn is the Executive Administrator of the Australia Myanmar Institute (AMI). She also works as a certified provisional Burmese interpreter and a translator for various projects. She is a graduate of the Institute of Economics (Yangoon) and holds an Advanced Diploma in Business Management from the Association of Business Executives (UK). She is currently studying for a Master of Translating and Interpreting at RMIT University.

Voice Art Censorship

Claire G. Coleman and Badiucao discuss censorship and the intersection of art, free speech, and government censorship.

Claire G. Coleman: I mean censorship is a complicated thing for me. Although it's important to not censor art, I think in a polite society there are things that shouldn't be said and should not be allowed to be said.

For example, to me there is always an intersection between preventing racist vilification and the right to freedom of speech. It’s an interesting intersection. A classic example for me, and Badiucao this will probably hit quite close to you, the Chinese government is known for pretty intense censorship and that the level of censorship is definitely unacceptable, in viciously censoring critics.

But on the other hand, the Australian response to [the Chinese government’s] censorship always stretches into racism. That is maybe something that should be censored because it’s a response against the Chinese people, not the Chinese government. So, we need to kind of think about this balance between knowing that the Chinese government’s censorship is wrong, and knowing that Australia’s response to it is also wrong.

Badiucao: When we talk about censorship, obviously the victim of censorship is art, literature, our basic freedom of speech, right? But I think sometimes we kind of misunderstand who the persecutors are; who impose and enforce the censorship, right?

I do think society would have a certain sensitivity and reasoning ability to recognise something like hate speech, racism, or xenophobia that you just mentioned. It is wrong and they shall be criticised, pointed out and people reminded that society should not cross a certain red line.

But these are reminders, I don't see that as equivalent to censorship. I feel it's very important to point out that censorship is something enforced, not by general society, not by the public opinion or out of you know, basic common sense and universal human rights.

But when censorship is imposed by a public power, like the government or some kind of authority who would actually have force and means beyond the public opinion to basically take away your rights. So, I think censorship must be started by this kind of authority, and it is only censorship when imposed by a power such as the government. But when we talk about individuals or the general public upholding some kind of hate speech or terrible hate for ideas, it's a different thing. To me, it's not really censorship, in that case.

CGC: We’re hitting here on the thing that always comes up in social media, which is the difference between censorship and deplatforming? Because de-platforming is not censorship.

Facebook, Twitter or Instagram refusing to allow you an account because you're vilifying their customers is not censorship. And the kind of authoritarian, far right of this world tend to complain about censorship and what they're really complaining about is deplatforming.

What I'm saying is that generally, de-platforming is not censorship. We are aware of that, and I am against censorship by governments as a rule. But do you think there's a point where there's a level of speech that the government should be able to censor?

The example we use in Australia is that the courts have sanctioned Andrew Bolt for racist comments, and that could be seen as a form

of censorship, but at which point does stopping vilification have something in common with censorship? Would you consider the laws in Australia are against racial vilification censorship?

B: I mean, if we really examine the reason why people want to protect freedom of speech against censorship I can think of two reasons. One is this idea that when something is just an idea, it does not inflict physical pain or violence. And it does not really hurt anyone so shall we allow it to exist regardless of what is said?

The second one is, once we start censoring anything, particularly when this is enforced by the government, then we're running a risk that the government will abuse this power and eventually, will use this power to kill other meaningful voices in society.

But I think when we talk about racism and hate speech… at the end of the day, these are voices that silence other people… voices that inflict true pain and real violence in society.

It's not some kind of rocket science that somehow, we will find some bright side of it. There's no bright side for genocide. There's no bright side to racism. There's no place for harm. It's already common sense and it’s pretty clear and it does not really require further discussion because history and reality have proven this over decades and decades, hundreds and thousands of years. So this is the end of the discussion, and we know it's dirty, we know it's poison, there's no reason to keep allowing it to spread.

CGC: To me, the difference between criticism of a government where we should be protected from censorship and hate speech is that hate speech is a direct attack on individuals or certain minority groups and

that is a sort of thing that is unacceptable.

The sort of censorship that should not ever be allowed is when people are talking truth to power and being censored for that.

[This] should never be misunderstood; we should never accept the censorship of people speaking truth to power, which is, I suppose when we’re thinking about PEN International, what they’re protecting is the right of writers and artists to speak truth to power. In my opinion, the ability for writers, artists, political cartoonists and activists to speak truth to power is one of the fundamental foundations of a fair democratic society.

If no one can speak truth to power then power goes unopposed and we are no longer in a democracy or free society, it becomes authoritarian as soon as no one can speak up against the people in power.

For me, the important thing is the concept of punching up or punching down. Speech that punches up should be protected and speech that punches down perhaps should not. I’m not saying that that’s a strict rule, but I think it’s a good foundational basis on whether what you’re saying is the kind of fair criticism or hate speech.

We’re talking about the concept of voice, that’s what we’re talking about here. Really, a society is a better society when the lowest people from the social hierarchy have a voice to speak to people above them. That’s what makes a society stronger. Whereas when you suppress the voice of people low down in the social hierarchy, you’re reducing the strength of society. One of the ways that hate speech is used is to shut up low people low down in a social system.

Photo: Badiucao

B: Exactly. I very much agree with your idea of punching up and punching down. Coming back to the topic that you brought up earlier about how we should respond to let’s say, the Chinese government’s human rights record. Let’s firstly, distinguish those basic concepts like, you know, for ordinary Chinese people and individuals who are victims being manipulated and controlled and sometimes you know, even willingly join the crime of the Chinese government, we shall treat them with a most thoughtful process.

But of course, at the same time, criticism against the regime, the Chinese Communist Party, is an entirely different thing from discriminating against ordinary Chinese people. I think the key point is to distinguish those two groups and understand them. But at the same time, what I am fascinated about is the Chinese government’s propaganda strategies, and that they deliberately confuse ideas between people and government or between government and country.

So, the narrative they’re using most of the time is, even for people like me as a Chinese artist who criticises the Chinese government, they would call me an anti-China Australian artist. They would say that I’m hurting the reputation of China and sometimes they’re using that argument to deliberately confuse and to kind of silence and legitimise

criticism of anyone who goes against the government. Sometimes authoritarian governments like China, and Russia deliberately confuse these ideas and say ‘this is Russian phobia’ or ‘this is China phobia’ so you have got to stop criticising the Beijing government, that’s the tactic that they’re using.

The other very important thing to point out and I think the people in Australia understand this is that the government [in China] is not really elected by anyone, not even a small group of people. There is no democratic process, this government is only a dictator who remains in power. The government is detached from the people in the way that ordinary people in China, most of them are not responsible for the crimes of the government. In fact, instead of persecutors, they’re more like victims in most cases.

Of course, you can argue something like the banality of evil because [in China] life is so hard, they must go along with the machine and they do. However, this is a result of long-term oppression, propaganda, fear and brainwashing, so to what extent are the Chinese people responsible for it? It’s an arguable question, and I think the easy way is really, like you said, to distinguish two groups and folks on all the fire powers against the people who are in power, against the government, against the institutions.

Claire G. Coleman is a Nyoongar writer and activist. She has written 3 novels, Terra Nullius, The Old Lie and Enclave. Her first non-fiction book: Lies, Damned Lies a personal exploration of the impact of colonisation won the 2022 Queensland Literary awards prize for non-fiction.

Badiucao is a popular and prolific political artist from China, and he confronts a variety of social and political issues head on in his work. He uses his art to challenge the censorship and dictatorship in China via his Twitter account @badiucao.

забуваю як думати рідною мовою

I’m unlearning to think in my mother tongue

Iя Кiва / Iya Kiva

забуваю як думати рідною мовою

кажу – відійди від мене не знаю тебе

белькотіння твоє – мов хижий бур’ян –вгризається в землю мою

червоним квітом війни

збіжжя пам’яті палає в горлянці

сила слів твоїх стає полем насилля

довгим мов відірваний річки рукав

у якому ховається смерть

бий мене по щоках – правій і лівій –

я не зможу пробачити дике мовчання твоє

вбивай в мене ікла свої – гострі як біль –не дочекатись тобі мого крику

шахта дитинства більше не є укриттям

мовби шия зів’ялої квітки стирчить між зубів історичних книжок

я зашиваю грубими нитками рота тобі

щоб говорити

щоб ніколи вже не говорити

English translation Mark Wingrave

I’m unlearning to think in my mother tongue clear off I don’t know you

like an invasive weed your gibberish gnaws away at my land in this red blossomed War

granules of memory scorch my throat

your forceful words a long field of violence like an amputated river arm where death hides inside

slap my face left and right I’ll never pardon your brutal silence

sharp pain your fangs sinking in me will never make me shout

the mine-shaft of my childhood no longer gives shelter it juts out between the teeth of history books like the neck of some withered flower

I’ll stitch your mouth shut with coarse twine so I can speak

so I’ll never speak again

Iya Kiva was born in Donetsk, Ukraine. In 2014, due to the military conflict she moved to Kyiv. She has published two collections of poetry, and is a translator of Polish and Belorussian poetry. Her work has been translated into more than 25 languages.

Mark Wingrave is a member of PEN Melbourne. An artist and translator, he has exhibited internationally and his translations from Russian to English have been widely published. See his website at mcwingrave.wordpress.com

Without Naming Names

PEN Melbourne has worked with PEN Cambodia over many years. Recently we assisted PEN Cambodia’s president Yorn Young to travel to PEN International Congresses.

We invited our friend Joan Healy to reflect on her times in Cambodia working with local people. Peace and justice are the mainstays of her practice.

In 1988, while in Thailand, I was brought to an enclave on the Thai-Cambodia border named Site 2. Cambodians seeking refuge from the Khmer Rouge were held here in a barbed wire enclosure on minimum rations, unable to go back to their country or forward into Thailand. Site 2 was controlled by a civil war commander with refugees conscripted into his army. I was invited to come back as a volunteer. Within a year, I did.

Here, I met a person who was, and still is, under threat for speaking against injustice. For his safety, I will not use his name. It is 1989. On my first working day in Site 2, I meet him. He is a medic and battlefield surgeon, but he speaks of a greater need. In this refugee camp on the Thai/Cambodia border, he has a plan. He wants to create a professional health clinic where the spirit of these people can heal. He is 31 years old when we meet. It is intended that I mentor him, but he mentors me.

He takes me through the rain and slush to the edge of the barbed wire fence. In a makeshift tent, an emaciated woman is lying on a broken bamboo platform just above the mud. Her eyes ooze with pus; she looks ancient, all skeleton. He kneels in the mud, talks gently, and waits for her little daughter to return from begging for food. He tells them both that something better

could happen. He pushes the mother in a wheel-cart; I hold the child’s hand. 1990 Human Rights Day. A makeshift screen has been mounted on a ute. In a strong statement of dissent, they show Samsara, depicting the opposing side of the civil war. He shows this movie again and again. People flock to see it; children are lifted shoulder-high. Look. This is our country, they say. Near sunset, the audience is dense. I am hassled to the edge and taken to stand before the camp commander. Tell him there could be a fatal grenade attack, he says. This is a threat. I push back through the crowd to warn him. He shakes his head. People need joy; this is their country.

In 1993, Site 2 closes. I volunteer for a further four years in Battambang, a province where many from the border hope to forge a new life. A Peace Keeping Force arrives, a Federal Election, a compromise, then a coup. There is torture and bloodshed.

He lives and works, listens and acts among the poorest, he writes of and declares his dissent. He is contacted by international media. He believes that the hatred unleashed in thirty years of killing is a monster hard to control. He speaks truth without vilifying anyone. PM Hun Sen publicly threatens him. Many will have to die before we have peace and you are at the top of the list.

Photo: Joan Healy

From time to time, I return to work in Cambodia. We have an encrypted phone connection. I know when he is in hiding, fleeing for safety, or crossing a dangerous border.

It is 2016. He and Kem Ley, a colleague, are filmed in an Al Jazeera panel discussion; they plan to debrief the next day. Kem Ley goes early to have a coffee at the Caltex. While waiting, he is shot through the head at close range. Hun Sen’s regime rarely imprisons those who write opinions and talk to the world media. They are denounced, warned, and if necessary, killed.

He tells me: ‘Each time I have to flee my hair falls out, just as it did in Pol Pot’s time. When I was young, my father, while caged and starved to death by the Khmer Rouge, told me that our country would need healers. When Hun Sen was young, somebody put an AK47 into his hands and told him that we need to kill many people before there is peace’.

I was back in Cambodia in March/April this year, talking with friends. They

predicted that Hun Sen would soon step down and his son Hun Manet would take his place. Most thought that Hun Sen and his closest political cronies were unlikely to completely surrender their power. These aging warriors had been with him since, as a very young man, he defected from the Khmer Rouge and came back to Cambodia with the conquering Vietnamese army. There could be some change, but not enough. In a quiet place I met a young dissident. He will continue to speak for justice though he knows the risk of imprisonment or death. Kem Ley’s family found refuge in Melbourne. Would I help his young family to do the same?

On August 22nd Hun Manet became Prime Minister. Some ask whether he will be strong enough to control the war lords in the army regiments. However, Hun Sen retains leadership of the Senate and the Cambodian People’s Party. Almost all of those who were Hun Sen’s closest associates are replaced by their sons or daughters.

To date Hun Manet has concentrated on forging international connections. He has a PhD in economics from Bristol University.

Joan Healy is an Australian who has lived among Cambodians since she volunteered in a refugee camp on Cambodia’s border in 1989, then made a home on the war-torn edge of Battambang. Her background is in education and human development. She is a published writer and a member of PEN Melbourne.

Photo: Joan Healy

Uluru Statement from the Heart

PEN Melbourne has joined hundreds of Australian writers in supporting First Nations peoples' call for recognition by voting Yes to a constitutionally enshrined Voice to Parliament at the 14 October referendum. You can find the list of writers and supporting organisations at www.writersforthevoice.com.au

Photo: https://ulurustatement.org

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