From under the linoleum
Old newspapers show Mussolini's imperialism looked a lot like today's

I sat on the floor and picked through the tragedy of the country we now call Ethiopia laid out on the yellowing pages. It was eerily reminiscent of the current Iraq adventure.

A tale for our times
The December 1934 assassination of Sergei Kirov

Seventy years on, the killing of Sergei Kirov casts an eerie light on the events of 11 September 2001, the invasions of Iraq and Afghanistan, the “war on Terror” and the state-sponsored hysteria surrounding the shadowy figures of Osama bin Ladin and Abu Musab al-Zarqawi.

Ninety-three years of bombing the Arabs
It was the Italians, hell-bent on acquiring an African empire, who got the ball rolling. In 1911 the Libyan Arab tribes opposed an Italian invasion. Their civilians were the first people in the world to be bombed from the air.

Dispossessed all over again
After spending nearly two months in the West Bank the pull towards my village was growing stronger, especially after being detained twice and threatened with deportation … an Australian Palestinian returns to her ancestral home.

The tragic inevitability of a forlorn hope
Australia slides further into the Iraq quagmire
Cabinet documents recently released under the 50-year rule show that, in 1954, Liberal (conservative) Prime Minister, Robert Menzies, and key figures in his Cabinet were extremely gloomy about the prospects for success in an American war against nationalists in Indochina. But eventually they went to the Vietnam War anyway.

Bombing King David
One man’s freedom fighter is another’s terrorist

Some historians date the beginning of modern terrorism from the 1946 bombing by Zionist terrorists of the British military HQ in Jerusalem.

Don’t loiter near the exit
Military debacle and economic decline haunt the Bush regime

When I was just a young possum in the school cadet corps there was a hoary old war story that we all knew. It was almost certainly apocryphal, but it ruefully expressed a nasty historic truth about the US role in the demise of the British Empire.


We've been online since 1997.
Check out the archives or …

powered by FreeFind

Locations of visitors to this page


© Nick Possum/
Brushtail Graphics

All unquiet on the Western Front

1 June 2010

It was a fine Saturday afternoon when Joaja and I rolled out of Central station on the Indian-Pacific, bound for Perth. Almost with a sense of relief, I folded myself into the womb-like  embrace of the Red Kangaroo sleeper cabin. The tiny compartments are like a monk’s cell on wheels. In fact the whole setup has a monastic feel to it, the narrow curving corridor, the dining car shared with the poor novices from the day-night seats.

It’s a bit like the medieval class system. Somewhere further down the train, in a place forbidden to us, the nobility were living it up in Gold Class with en-suites, chefs, real cutlery and china and a lounge car.

But snug in our tiny cell, with endless vistas of arid Australia stretching to the horizon, hour after hour, I felt I was on a retreat from a wicked world. 

When the train stopped for a few hours in Kalgoorlie, we walked into town. We were hanging out in an all-night  joint at the top end of Hannan Street when a bloke I’d seen alight from Gold class wandered in. He seemed vaguely familiar and suddenly I remembered him as somebody from the Australian Strategic Policy Institute in Canberra, (otherwise known as ASPI) the Canberra-based government-funded think tank where  I’d done a job about internal fraud a while ago.

“Well, if it isn’t Nick Possum! The things you see when you’re not carrying your gun!” he exclaimed. He fetched an expensive glass of cheap red from the bar and joined us.

“What brings you to the West”, I asked.

He raised his eyebrows  and glanced conspiratorially left and right, in a satirical sort of way.  “I’m giving a presentation in Perth on our latest study, Our Western Front: Australia and the Indian Ocean. All very hush-hush, you understand, old man.”

Western Front? That sounds ominous. What’s it all about” I asked.

“After all the gibber about this being ‘The Pacific Century’, it seems that it might be the Indian Ocean Century after all. We want  Rudd to strengthen Australia’s military and strategic presence in the Indian Ocean region. I mean, it’s bleedin’ obvious:  our gas fields are in the Indian Ocean and they’re set to be prime resources in the energy-starved world  of the future.

“Take the Gorgon gas project. They reckon it holds the equivalent of 8 percent of the world’s current liquefied natural gas capacity. It might be worth $200 billion. And that’s just one of them. By 2020 we might be the world’s leading LNG exporter.”

He pulled a fat A4 document with many tabs from his daypack and flipped through it.

“Here, this is what we say: ‘The greatest challenges to the protection of our offshore sovereignty and sovereign rights lie in the Indian Ocean. About one-third of our exports emanate from Western Australia, and major offshore developments under way off the west and northwest of the continent will be a key to our future prosperity. We need to work harder to plan for critical infrastructure protection, and the Australian Defence Force should increase its presence in this area.’

“And it’s not just our resources, the fact is, three critical shipping choke-points  for the oil and gas trade are round the Indian Ocean. There’s the Babe el Mandeb Strait between Djibouti and Yemen, leading to the Red Sea and the Suez Canal; the Strait of Hormuz between Iran and Oman leading to the Persian Gulf; and the Malacca strait between Indonesia and Malaysia, leading through the Singapore Strait into the South China Sea. As oil and gas get scarcer, that’s where the trouble’s going to be.

“Anyway,  the important  thing is the strategic implications”. He flipped through the report and read out some more. ‘The politics of oil and energy are likely to have a powerful impact on the strategic dynamics of the Indian Ocean, and won’t necessarily be conducive  to cooperation. Growing military capabilities across the region may also inhibit cooperation by reinforcing perceptions of long-standing military threats and creating a security dilemma for regional countries’.”

“And what might that dilemma be?” I asked, sensing where all this was drifting.

“Well, we’re much more reliant on our trade with China than we are on our trade with India, and India and China are shaping up against each other with the Yanks tending to side with India. And of course the Yanks are hostile to any challenge by the Chinese to their naval dominance in both the Indian and Pacific Oceans and their strategy of controlling those key naval choke points. That’s challenging for us, because since our nasty little scare in World War Two we’ve toed the American line pretty obsequiously. But if we keep lining up with the US and India against the Chinese, we’ll stuff our critical trade alliance.”

“Which implies that we’ll have to take a more independent stance, foreign-policy wise”, Joadja said. “I mean, wouldn’t you say that the Americans invading and occupying Iraq and Afghanistan and threatening Iran is really ramping up the risk of a full-on regional war?”

“Hmm. Well, um … it wouldn’t be politic for us to suggest as much, perhaps … openly, ha, ha. But I must get back to the train”, he muttered. The conversation had raced too far ahead of the polite evasions of the ‘security community’.

We didn’t stay much longer ourselves and I was glad to get back to our monk’s cell. When we woke the next morning, the beautiful Avon Valley, shrouded in morning mist, was sliding past the window and Perth was only a couple of hours away.