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Earth politics
Commonground is a group of people in Australia which is involved
in creating cultures that are non-patriarchal, non-violent and
sustainable. SIDDHARTHA writes on the group which strives for
citizen-based empowerment .
THE Kangaroo stood outside the window and gave me a doleful look,
ears cocked and attentive. We looked at each other briefly and as
I stepped closer it bounced away, propelled by the powerful
spring action of its hind legs. I was visiting Commonground, a
commune concerned with heart politics, 95 km from Melbourne.
Nestling in the bush amidst gum trees and a riot of wild rabbits,
kangaroos, magpies and sulphur-crested cockatoos, Commonground is
an unusual group of people working for changes within the
individual, the organisation and the community. With grace and
generosity, the team of Glen, Ed, Kate and Phil make their
contribution to create structures and cultures that are non-
patriarchal, non-violent and sustainable. As a name tag,
Commonground is well suited to this expanse of hills which, in
earlier times, was a meeting place for aboriginal peoples from
the region.
Glen Ochre, the leader of the commune, is an attractive and
effervescent woman who defies attempts to fix her age. She has
the verve and energy of a teenager, a face in the thirties and a
torso in the fifties. Flamboyant and theatrical, she is an
anarchist with a certitude in the journey towards a sustainable
future. Her eyes gleam from her faith in the spirit of the earth
and in a more humane society. She is a modern tribal, worshipping
Mother Earth and drawing strength from her. Without Glen, the
commune would not have been possible. A natural leader, she makes
little effort to hide the fact.
"In earlier times Commonground, as we call this range of hills,
was a meeting place for the aboriginal peoples from the region,"
says Glen, bonding the place, and herself, with a mystic
tradition.
But, in attempting to connect with the past, contradictions
emerge in number in this part of the world. An aboriginal would
have retorted to Glen, "If this was once a meeting ground for
aboriginal people why is the land now owned by non-aboriginals?"
Putting Glen on the mat is unfair for she is not responsible for
the terrible deeds of the settlers, 200 years ago. Ownership of
land is a tormented question with aboriginal people as they own
hardly any land themselves; practically all of it is held by non-
aboriginals or by the Crown. The legal fiction of "terra
nullius," meaning that the land was empty of people when the
first settlers came, allowed the newcomers to seize and hold the
land, ignoring aboriginal claims that they were in possession
from the beginning of history. (Ownership is an introduced
western notion as the aboriginals saw themselves as stewards of
the land, not the owners.) Glen herself would be the first to
acknowledge that Australia was "stolen" from the aboriginals.
A muted idealism goes with the spirit of Commonground, a never-
never territory, part dream, part reality, which believes in
creating communities that are not competitive, individualistic or
patriarchal. Anarchism is the touchstone - an anarchism that is
different from the commonly understood meaning of the term. Glen
defines anarchism as a "social order and government, generated
from the bottom up, not the top down. It is a cooperative model
of social organisation that works 'with people' and not 'over
people'." Commonground strives for citizen-based empowerment that
can change the minds and hearts of people.
Glen and her teammates reach a large number of people through the
workshops they organise and their lifestyle. Together they set up
Commonground as a cooperative and bought 95 acres of pasture
land, where they planted hundreds of eucalyptus and wattle trees.
When I ask Glen if eucalyptus would not render the land a desert,
she says that that is clearly not the case as they are native to
the area. According to her, the problem occurs when eucalyptus is
introduced to new areas. I am not convinced, but then I am not a
specialist in the matter, and I suspect, neither is Glen. But I'm
reassured nevertheless, for if there is a problem, Glen is the
kind of person who would face up without shirking. She tells me
that Australia is the driest continent in the world and water is
scarce in many parts. "Water is very precious here," she says
earnestly. "So please use it wisely."
Glen was always an unusual person, even from early childhood. As
a child her father had abused her both sexually and physically.
She got little support from her mother who was distant and
powerless. Whenever the fear of her father became unbearable she
ran away to the bush and lay on the earth. Befriending a gum tree
she made a circle of stones around it. This was where she
discovered Earth mother and her nurturing energies. Hearing Glen
I wonder if there is not a deep bond between the earth and
humans, not just a mystical one, but an organic one. After all we
literally evolved from the earth, and the earth from the
universe. If there is a mother for all known beings it is the
earth, and if there is a grandmother it is the universe. Our true
God is the Earth, not the false ones projected by the consumer
and information societies.
At the commune there is only "one roof, one table and one purse."
Glen, Kate, Ed and Phil eat their evening meal together. Glen and
Ed are married, as are Kate and Phil, but each of them has their
own room. The idea is to offset the power of the nuclear family
and the cult of the individual. When Kate had a child, all the
members of the commune experienced the shared joy and
responsibility of raising the child. Until recently they had a
common purse from which each adult got an allowance of $40 a
week. But lately they have decided to allow for more personal
freedom and generate extra personal income in their private time,
a decision that Glen was afraid of for, she feared that they
would lose their radical edge and become just another pragmatic
commune. But time has proved that this is not the case.
Collectivism and consensus are notions that guide decision-making
at Commonground. Yet everybody acknowledges the lead role that
Glen plays. Experiments like this may easily collapse if the
leadership issue is not creatively and sensitively resolved.
Similar groups have faltered due to leaders who are authoritarian
or if the collectives insisted on equality. Glen assumes her role
as leader partly because it is her charisma and partly because
the others find they benefit emotionally and practically from her
leadership. Glen combines idealism, spirituality and a
predilection for leadership. The food at Commonground is vegan,
which means that it contains no animal product. It is also
organic. The cook, Lee Giddings, tells me that his vocation is to
make people happy with his cuisine. He serves vegetable soups,
rice, noodles, vegetables rolled in algae, papadams, masala tea
and a medley of other dishes. I have reservations about such a
culinary potpourri, bland and characterless, but it seems to pass
for all the visitors and participants. Breakfast is wholesome and
satisfying though - there is rice flakes, rye bread, whole wheat
bread, organic strawberries and orange jam. Even the toilet paper
at Commonground is organic, produced by a company called
Earthwise.
Being a leader is always as complex as the task of leadership.
"There are times I get depressed," says Glen, "and then I go and
stand by my magic eucalyptus tree feeling helpless. But I am not
alone for long. I soon feel a hand on my shoulder and a voice
saying, 'I am with you. You have nothing to fear.' It is the
voice of Mother Earth guiding me along. I believe in Mother
Earth, in her concern for me. I am her daughter and my role is to
serve her." Glen's mystical bond with the earth is matched only
by her compassion for humans and her fidelity to all living
beings. But her concern for humans and other living beings is
part of her concern for the earth, and not separate. She wipes
tears from her eyes saying that the only way the human species
can survive is through a deep love for the earth and faith in her
nurturing goodness. I am reminded of a line from the philosopher
David Abram, "We are human only in contact, and conviviality,
with what is not human." Abram believes that we need what is
other than ourselves and our own creations to distance ourselves
and find our true measure. And it is only the oxygenating breath
of forests, the tumbled magic of river rapids... that may provide
this detachment.
On a previous visit to Australia I had travelled only in the
cities and never got to the bush to see a kangaroo. Commonground
is a habitat for kangaroos and wallabies, their smaller cousins.
Herds of them hop through the surrounding woods scattering the
wild rabbits. Aboriginal people, and some non-aboriginal ones,
eat the kangaroo, which is not a nice thought for a visitor like
me. The skill to spear a kangaroo and to roast it over a bed of
hot stones is still not lost. "It tastes a little like venison,
although the meat is somewhat muscular," says Lila Watson, a
matronly aboriginal woman who is participating in a workshop at
Commonground. Most days I track a kangaroo or wallaby, with no
harm intended. It looks at me in the manner of a village woman
peering at a stranger through the window. Then, at the crunch of
a twig, it hops away like a child contesting a sack race.
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