Desiderata
by Rod Johnston
August 2021
Dedication
For Robyn – my darling wife,
travelling companion and fellow adventurer.
Author’s Note
“Desiderata” is an autobiographical
record, without exaggeration or distortion, of forty years of international
travel by the author, and the understanding of international relations that can
derive from such travel. “Desiderata” is the logical sequel to “Aurora, Bukhara,
Crux”, which sets out recorded historical events, as seen through the eyes of a
small group of fictional people caught up in 100 years of warfare and history.
Copyright © Rod Johnston 2021
Contents
Chapter 1 – Sydney, Australia, August 2021
Chapter 2 – Guangzhou, China, 2016
Chapter 3 – Urumqi, China, 2016
Chapter 4 – Lusaka, Zambia, 1975-1976
Chapter 5 – Almaty, Kazakhstan, 2016
Chapter 6 – Karakol, Kyrgyzstan, 2016
Chapter 7 – Brisbane, Australia, 1973
Chapter 8 – London, United Kingdom, 1974
Chapter 10 – Spain, 15th Century
Chapter 11 – Granada, Spain, 1975
Chapter 12 – Aileau, Timor Leste, 2004
Chapter 13 – Southern Europe, 1975
Chapter 14 – Gallipoli, Turkey, 1975
Chapter 15 – Ho Chi Minh City, Viet Nam, 2011
Chapter 16 – Sydney, Australia, 2021
Chapter 17 – Karakol Kyrgyzstan, 2016
Chapter 18 – Central Asia, 18th and 19th centuries
Chapter 19 – Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan, 2016
Chapter 20 – Tashkent, Uzbekistan, 2016
Chapter 21 – Asia-Pacific Region, 2004 to 2021
Chapter 22 – Brisbane and Sydney, Australia, 1976-2021
Chapter 23 – Asia-Pacific Region, 1985-2021
Chapter 24 – Tari, Komo and Mt Hagen, Papua New Guinea,
2015-2018
Chapter 25 – Tashkent, Uzbekistan, 2016
Chapter 26 – Samarkand, Uzbekistan, 15th Century
Chapter 27 – Samarkand, Uzbekistan, 2016
Chapter 28 – Bukhara, Uzbekistan, 2016
Chapter 29 – Central Asia, 19th and 20th Centuries
Chapter 30 – Khiva and Tashkent, Uzbekistan, 2016
Chapter 31 – Xi’an and Shanghai, China, 2017
Chapter 32 – Moscow, Russia, 2017
Chapter 33 – Saint Petersburg, Russia, 2017
Chapter 34 – Sydney, Australia, August 2021
Appendix 2 – Australian Demographics, Finances and
Politics
Appendix 3 – Author’s Notes, Acknowledgements and
References
Chapter 1 – Sydney,
Australia, August 2021
As I write, the
flag of the Southern Cross (the Crux) flutters overhead. Its green and gold are
the colours
of the Australian bush on a misty mountain morning, of the wattle in the
spring time. They are also the colours of our sporting prowess. This flag
features flowers of the Australian golden wattle (symbol of a
flowering society), stylized in the shape of the Southern Cross (signifying our
southern hemisphere home). Its most important symbols are the single leaf (one
people of many ethnicities), on a single branch (following a united
destiny), against the dark green background (the Australian bush that we know
and love). This flag of the Southern Cross represents our aspirations … non-confronting,
non-violent, non-racist, post-colonial, fauna-friendly and eco-friendly. These
are our desiderata, those things that are our heart’s desire. Or at least they should be …
………………………………
I am the author of “Aurora, Bukhara, Crux”,
not the fictional narrator depicted therein. I am a real person, whose years of
travel, study and thought have inspired me to this literary challenge. “Aurora,
Bukhara, Crux” is recorded history, with fictional overlays, to make them more
readable. But they are also controversial, intended to provoke thought and
reconsideration of our international policies.
In contrast, “Desiderata” is devoid of
fiction. It is autobiographical, entirely factual, without exaggeration or
distortion. I have written it to explain
the origin of “Aurora, Bukhara, Crux”. “Desiderata”
reveals my innermost thoughts. It lays bare my deepest concerns for our country.
“Desiderata” is my story.
………………………………
My home is Australia, the country of
my birth. A 50’s baby-boomer, I am old enough to have witnessed the death
throes of the ailing British Empire, as it conceded world dominance to American
global hegemony, and young enough to anticipate the next change. For a time,
the Soviets challenged American ascendancy, but the USSR has since
disintegrated. Now China, Russia and United States compete in a not-so-subtle
three-way struggle for Asian ascendency.
But so much for international
politics. It is 2016, and I am here with my wife, Robyn, in the midst of a travelling
holiday, that commenced in China, and will proceed through three of the former Central
Asian soviet socialist republics; Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Uzbekistan. And next
year, we will continue through China (again), Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania and
(of course) Russia.
We are indeed blessed to live in an
age when international travel is relatively easy, safe, fast and
affordable. Consider the hardships of
the journeys of yester-year – the 13th century Chinese adventures of
Marco Polo and his uncles, Ibn Battuta sojourning from Morocco through Africa
and Asia to China in the 14th century, or the 15th and 16th
century sea voyages of da Gama, Columbus, Magellan and others. Our modern
inconveniences of delayed flights and poor room service, pale into
insignificance. This blessing of modern travel opportunities must be cherished,
nurtured and, above all, exercised. For five decades, my wife Robyn and I have
travelled the world. I have journeyed on six continents, living on three of
them, and visited 82 countries, many of them multiple times.[1]
We are blessed with international friendships that span two-thirds of a
lifetime.
Years of world travel led us to two
consecutive adventures (in 2016 and 2017), tracing the great Silk Roads from
China, through Central Asia to Russia. I have selected these two journeys to
provide the context for this narrative, because of the extraordinary
experiences and insights that these travels afforded. In the course of this
account, I will also deviate to describe other journeys, but I will always
return to the China, Central Asia and Russia travels.
There were many roads in the Silk Road
network, used for intercontinental trade, when Han Chinese goods found their
way into aristocratic Roman households 2,000 years ago. Most of the land trade
routes passed through the region now encompassing western China and modern
Kyrgyzstan, Uzbekistan, Kazakhstan and Russia; and these were our intended
destinations.
These land routes were in constant use until finally displaced by sea
trade, which increased progressively from the early sixteenth century,
following the Ottoman expansion in Western Asia. The sea route between India
and western Europe, via the Indian Ocean and southern Africa, was pioneered by
the Portuguese, following Vasco da Gama's 1497 to 1499 voyage. A competing sea
route from the Philippines to Europe, via the Pacific, Panama (land
transhipment) and the Atlantic, was developed by the Spanish, in the late
1500's, following Ferdinand Magellan's epic 1519 to 1522 voyage.
For millennia, the Great Wall proved to be a bulwark against barbarism, the
preserver of Chinese civilisation ... but “building a wall” is not always
beneficial. When the Mongols finally breached the barrier, ushering in Kublai
Khan’s Yuan Dynasty in 1279, Chinese culture regenerated and boomed. This was
the fabulous civilisation reported by Marco Polo.
To truly understand the world in which
we live, it is first necessary to understand the world of our forebears, and
the trade routes that they traversed. Robyn and I first visited China in 1999
as tourists. Beijing, the Great Wall, the Forbidden City, the Ming Tombs,
Tiananmen Square … the whole tourist bit. At this time, the economic reform
process, initiated by Deng Xiaoping, had been under way for about 20 years, but
tourism in China was still in its early phases. In 2013, I returned to China on
business – Beijing, Tianjin, Hebei, Shanghai, Nanjing and Foshan – six days in
six cities – in and out of factories, that testify political firmness,
foresight, investment in modern technology and a penchant for hard work can
combine to make a modern manufacturing-based prosperous society.
………………………………
Chapter 2 – Guangzhou, China, 2016
Guangzhou was but a staging post on
our 2016 journey to the Silk Road, although we lingered long enough for two
nights of good sleep, bookending an enlightening city tour. I suppose all city tours are the same ... a
couple of aged religious buildings (churches, temples or mosques depending on
whether you travel the occident, the orient, or in between), ancient forts and
battlements (usually spruced up in response to a service life of hardship and a
retirement of neglect), and the inevitable dose of local craft and souvenir
shops.
But on closer examination, Guangzhou
was more relevant to the Silk Road than it first appeared. The Silk Road comprised
the land routes that connected China and Europe for almost two millennia, the
trading corridors along which the camel caravans dispensed goods, wealth and
ideas. When Portuguese caravels[2]
finally displaced the caravans, it was to sea ports such as Guangzhou that
these ships journeyed.
Since the late-fifteenth century, the
Chinese Ming dynasty had been in inexorable decline, the bureaucracy
systematically stifling the international inquisitiveness of Chinese maritime
traders. Just when Europe was expanding, China was contracting. The Qing
Dynasty appropriation of power in 1644, failed to arrest this decline, and by
the time that the Europeans appeared in force, China was ripe for exploitation.
Malacca (in present day Malaysia),
which hither-to had been a Chinese vassal, was conquered in 1511 by the
Portuguese, who established a trading post. In 1516, Rafael Perestrello
journeyed from Malacca to Guangzhou, followed a year later by an eight-ship
expedition led by Fernao Pires de Andrade. However, Andrade was defeated by the
Chinese Ming forces, and it was not until 1554, that Leonel de Sousa bribed the
Chinese admiral Wang Bo, facilitating the Luso-Chinese Accord. Portuguese trade
was thus secured, and relocated to nearby Macau, first as a trading post, and
then, in 1887, as a colony, a status it retained until reverting to Chinese
sovereignty as late as 1999.[i]
With the Portuguese traders diverted
to Macau, Guangzhou attracted the attention of other European powers,
principally the British. The prized commodity was Chinese tea, but how could
the British pay for it? The solution … wage two wars, the First Opium War (1839
to 1842) and the Second Opium War (1856 to 1860), to force the Chinese to
accept Indian-grown opium as payment for Chinese-grown tea[ii]
... tea for free! Drug trafficking has a long pedigree.[iii]
One sure way to combat boredom of a
long flight from the Chinese Pacific seaboard to the far west is to read the
in-flight magazine. But to an air traveller unschooled in interpreting the
Chinese script, negotiating the in-flight magazine of the Chinese domestic
airlines can be a challenge. Fortunately, one article appeared in both Chinese
and English … a sort of modern Chinese Rosetta Stone. Look for a commonly
occurring word in the English text, and find the corresponding Chinese symbols.
The article in question was about the great museums of the world, and their
role as the oracles through which the lessons of civilization are conveyed down
the millennia. In the English version the words “China” and “civilization”
appeared in many places, but in the Chinese version they appeared to be almost
interchangeable. The most common Sinitic
name for China is Zhongguo, denoted by the characters
………………………………
Chapter 3 – Urumqi, China, 2016
The four-hour morning flight, from
Guangzhou to Urumqi, in the far west Xinjiang Uygur Autonomous Region, is a
reminder of just how vast modern China is. Unlike other large countries, China
has only a single time zone, resulting in long western afternoons of brilliant
daylight. With plenty of time to spare, we decided to try our luck with the
airport bus, rather than catch a taxi to our hotel. Although this may have
“sounded like a good idea at the time”, the execution was less than ideal. We
do not speak Mandarin, and few ordinary people in Xinjiang speak English. We
failed to exit the bus at the appropriate stop, and it finally dawned on us,
when the bus pulled into the central station terminus, that we should alight.
That I had failed to identify the location of our hotel on a map … any map …
resulted in a four hour “unguided walking tour” of this large modern city.
Perhaps with uncharacteristic foresight, we had opted for “carry-on luggage”
only, which provided some relief. After a belated lunch and some directions at
a friendly fast-food chicken shop, we finally surrendered to the inevitable,
and summoned a taxi. Five minutes later we were at the hotel.
The north eastern Dzungaria region
(inhabited by Tibetan-Buddhist Dzungar[iv]
nomads) and the south-western Tarim Basin (inhabited by Turkic-speaking Muslim Uyghur sedentary
farmers) existed separately before being united to form Xinjiang, by the Qing dynasty in 1884. This effectively reinstated the
Chinese political control, that had previously existed under the Tang dynasty
between the 7th to 10th centuries of the modern era. The
Tarim Basin is rich in oil and gas, and China seeks to supply approximately a
fifth of the country’s consumption from this region.[v]
One cannot fail to be impressed by the abundance of power stations, factories
and blast furnaces along the freeway.
Urumqi is a large modern city, capital
of the Xinjiang Uyghur Autonomous Region, and is populated mostly by Han
Chinese, who have migrated from the east. The demographic data is telling. In
Urumqi, 75% of the 3 million population is Han Chinese, while only 13% is
indigenous Uyghur. However, in Xinjiang as a whole, only 41% of the 22 million
population is Han Chinese, while 44% is Uyghur. This, together with the
presence of the vast energy resources, has given rise to an acute separatist
problem … and the police, army and security are omnipresent. The Uyghur
separatist movement claims that the region was invaded by China in 1949, and
has been under subsequent Chinese occupation. While the Uyghurs of Xinjiang are
linguistically and culturally Turkic and Muslim, the Han Chinese speak Mandarin,
and mainly adhere to Buddhism, Confucianism or Taoism.[3]
The 2005 Tulip Revolution, in
neighbouring Kyrgyzstan, ushered in a period of political instability
throughout the region, with China’s Xinjiang region suffering increasing Uyghur
militancy and acts of terrorism. Chinese authorities have clamped down on
separatism. Recent reports, from human rights organisations, indicate that the
severity of the Chinese government reaction (to what is claimed to be Uyghur
terrorism) has increased dramatically.[vi]
[vii]
Although our movements around Urumqi
were in no way restricted, and we were not prevented from walking unaccompanied
about the streets, one does become conscious of the military convoys moving
down the highway and through the city. The hotel was a high-rise up-market
modern building, but with hardly any guests … we counted only three other
diners in the breakfast room the next morning. Perhaps tourists had been
discouraged by the army post (with guns bristling) that was erected just
outside the main entrance to the hotel. Or were they put off by the army
personnel in the lobby, who periodically patrolled the residential floors? The
ubiquitous presence of army patrols in the streets suggests a general crackdown
on the populace at large, but the military concentration in, and around, our
tourist hotel is more indicative of targeted terrorism against tourists. There
are two sides to every story.
We were not part of any organized tour
(you could say we were quite disorganized), and we believe that this attracted
the attention (assistance) of the Chinese security service. A well-dressed
gentleman (at first claiming to be part of the hotel management … although we
are now convinced otherwise) insisted on “helping” us to join an organized
day-trip to Heavenly Lake. That he could command the immediate cooperation of
the hotel staff was not in doubt, but later enquiries revealed that he was
indeed not part of their staff.
A day excursion to Heavenly Lake is
the highlight of any visit to Urumqi, popular with the many tourists from
eastern China. The spectacular natural scenery of the eastern Tian Shan Range,
and the serene glacial lake, were augmented by a spectacular open-air show of
cultural and gymnastic prowess, that only the Chinese can perfect … a most
enjoyable day.
The following morning, the same
gentleman kindly organized our trip to the Xinjiang Regional Museum. He also
arranged for us to be accompanied by an athletic young man, who (although he
spoke no English) kept a very close eye on us, to ensure that we did not stray
too far, and that we returned safely to our hotel. “Guide”, “companion” or
“minder” … what is the difference? None of the extra security service attention
involved us in any expense, and no money changed hands. Even our offer to pay
for the taxi to the museum was rejected. But the close supervision did ensure
that we did not get up to any mischief.
The highlight of this museum is its
display of 21 ancient mummies[viii]
dating back approximately 4,000 years. Preserved by the extremely dry
conditions of the Tarim Basin, the mummies, their burial practices, and their
woven clothing point to an origin quite unexpected in this region. The evidence
suggests that these Tokharian people were Indo-European (not Asian), related to
the Celts who settled in Western Europe. A related Indo-European nomadic
people, the Yuezhi, were pushed westward into the Tarim Basin, following their
defeat in 170 BC by the Xiongnu (Altaic nomads).[ix]
Subsequent invasions by Han Chinese were followed by the Uyghurs (a Turkic
people) in the 7th century AD, and more recently by the Chinese Tang, Ming and
Qing dynasties.[x]
That these peoples were successively victorious, and then displaced, testifies
to the volatility of the region, and to the historical fragility of land claims
in general. Perhaps none of us can legitimately claim exclusive land rights …
Is history simply telling us to use it or lose it?
As if to reflect the security concerns
in the city, airport security at Urumqi was the strictest that we have
encountered. Your phone goes one way, while you go another, only to be reunited
after each has undergone the closest of scrutiny. Not only must you remove all
items from your pockets, your belt and your shoes; but you must also expose the
soles of your feet to the metal detector. Journalists have been known to hide
digital SD cards in the strangest of places. But perhaps these security
precautions were not without justification. While we did not witness any
violence in China, we were in Bishkek (capital of neighbouring Kyrgyzstan) a
week later, when the nearby Chinese embassy was bombed by Uyghur separatists.
In days of old, Silk Road traders
would pay enormous sums for luxury items. Today, coffee is the life-blood of
the modern traveller, but in a region where tea is ubiquitous, coffee must be
considered a luxury. In our case, each cup of coffee at Urumqi International
Airport cost the same as the taxi fare from the city!
………………………………
Chapter 4 – Lusaka, Zambia, 1975-1976
The flight from Urumqi to Almaty is
relatively short, although it is long enough to reflect on the rapid
development of China, and its impact during the last two decades. But China’s
21st century “Belt and Road” initiatives are not its first foray in
to international development. We first became aware of China’s impact four and
a half decades earlier, in central Africa.
Just as European colonial powers were
retreating from Asia in the decades following World War 2, so too they were
exiting Africa ... leaving in their wake a poor, undeveloped, tribally
heterogenous and violent continent, and a score of new countries.
Zambia is in the heart of
central-southern Africa, completely land-locked by Zimbabwe, Botswana, Namibia,
Angola, Congo, Tanzania, Malawi and Mozambique. In the mid-1970’s, violence,
poverty and corruption surrounded this isolated small country. In 1975, Angola
and Mozambique were abandoned by their colonial overlord (Portugal), initiating
violent civil wars, as left and right factions (puppets of the superpowers)
battled for control. Namibia (South-West Africa as it was then known) was
firmly controlled by the apartheid South African regime, which used it as a
base to invade Angola. Zimbabwe (then known as Rhodesia) had declared UDI
(Unilateral Declaration of Independence) from Britain, with a white-minority
government prosecuting a violent, but ultimately unsuccessful war with its
neighbours. Democratic Republic of Congo was renowned for the corruption and
violence that beset it to this day, while Tanzania, Malawi and Botswana were,
at that time, desperately poor. But Zambia was relatively stable, and life for
ex-pat professionals was reasonably comfortable.
As the 1960’s faded into the 1970’s,
Zambia’s economy approached a perilous situation. Although rich in copper,
which at that time commanded a good price, Zambia relied entirely on railways
through hostile neighbouring countries for the export of this valuable metal.
The Benguela Railway to the west was blocked by civil war in Angola and
corruption in Congo. The eastern railway across the Zambezi to the Indian Ocean
ports of Beira and Maputo (Lourenco Marques) were blocked by violence in
Mozambique, and by a hostile Rhodesia (Zimbabwe). So too, the option of
transporting the copper to the south was prevented by the war with Zimbabwe
(Rhodesia) and the apartheid regime in South Africa. In such circumstances,
communist China offered to construct a lifeline to the north … the TAZARA
railway, linking Kapiri Mposhi, near the Zambian Copperbelt, to the Tanzanian
Indian Ocean port of Dar-es-Salaam.
Built between 1970 and 1975 by up to
50,000 Chinese and 60,000 Africans, the TAZARA railway traverses 1,860 kilometres of
Africa’s most forbidding terrain. Financed by the Chinese at a staggering
estimated equivalent cost of nearly $ 3 billion (2020 US dollars), it
represented an enormous foreign commitment, particularly given the parlous
state of Chinese domestic politics at the time. In 1966, Mao Zedong had plunged
his country into the turmoil of the disastrous Cultural Revolution, from which
it had not yet emerged. But on 24 October 1975, the first passenger train
arrived at Dar-es-Salaam terminus, and the railway service was ready to
commence.
Two months previous (in August 1975),
Robyn and I arrived in Zambia. Conscious of the poverty that crippled many
parts of the world, and the need for educated people (such as ourselves) to
share our skills, I obtained a two-year contract (subsequently shortened to one
year) with an Italian consulting engineering firm. Three days in the capital,
Lusaka, was enough for us to meet my new work colleagues, and to deposit our
meagre possessions in a company townhouse. Then we were off again, on a 1,020
kilometres road trip to Nakonde, a village on the remote northern border. This
is where the brand-new (still not-in-regular-service) TAZARA railway crosses
the Zambia / Tanzania border.
We were in Nakonde for the first of
two two-week visits, to survey an existing dam, a proposed 15-kilometre
pipeline and a proposed water treatment works.
My boss (who stayed with us only one day before returning to Lusaka)
left instructions to “hire a boat and survey the dam”. No boat … no worry. A
hastily constructed raft consisting of three 200 litre oil drums, lashed to a
makeshift frame of steel pipes, was sufficient to support three of the
indigenous Zambians who had been hired to assist … one to hold the surveyor’s
staff, one to paddle the raft, and the third (a policeman equipped with a rifle)
to stand guard against the “crocodile”.
Some days later, I met the “crocodile” face-to-face, a very large
monitor lizard.
True to our shared love of adventure,
Robyn accompanied me to this remote outpost, and her support and assistance
were invaluable. Despite being a relatively inexperienced driver at the time,
Robyn drove work teams in the “ute” to various sites. Apart from one German
surveyor, whom we met only briefly, we were the only non-indigenous ex-pats in
the region. Communication with Lusaka was by two-way radio, and occurred only
once during our two trips.
My boss had stayed long enough to
define the job and hire far too many locals, about 40 in all, including some
who were from across the Tanzanian border. Needing to reduce this to a manageable
six, at the end of the first week, I found that dismissing such a large
workforce (engaged at different times and from both sides of the border) proved
not to be at all simple.[4]
On our second trip to Nakonde, we were
much more self-sufficient than on the first. Equipped with a portable fuel
stove, we would drive off into the African bush, to cook evening meals more
suited to our delicate western palates, before returning to the sort-of safety
of the rough and raucous rest-house. No more nshima (mealie glue) or kapenta
(miniscule fish eaten whole). The internet says, “There is not much that I
can say about nshima … and there’s not a lot that can be done with it; it’s
hardly a chef’s dream.”[xi]
Because we did not bring a driver or
colleagues on this trip, we were able to detour for some sight-seeing on the
return journey. We drove west to the spectacular Kalambo Falls,[5]
where the river plunges 235 metres, before draining into the vast expanse of Lake
Tanganyika. We ate a “proper” meal in Mbala’s “Grasshopper Hotel”, and slept in
a comfortable bed in the “Arms Hotel” … such luxury compared to the Nakonde
government rest house. Then south to Kasama and Mpika. We were now in the
region, stretching from the Victoria Falls on the Zambezi up to Lake
Tanganyika, made famous by Doctor David Livingstone, a century earlier. Doctor
Livingstone dedicated his life to evangelizing, exploring and evolving the
economy in the heart of Africa. Here he battled Arab slave traders, hostile
tribesmen and malaria. Although unsuccessful in each of these endeavours during
his own lifetime, Livingstone’s sacrificial single-minded dedication has inspired
many others to follow in his footsteps. On 1 May 1873, David Livingstone died
of malaria and dysentery near Lake Bangweulu, close to where we were now
travelling. Although his body was transported back to London, to be interred in
Westminster Abbey, Livingstone’s heart was buried under a tree in this country
that he loved.[xii] That we could travel here in relative safety
just three generations later (a short 102 years) was nothing short of a
miracle.[xiii]
It is the realisation that our efforts are never in vain, that sustains us
through the most difficult of circumstances. Although commitment and dedication
might appear at the time to be wasted, once a seed is planted, faithfully
tended and carefully preserved, it will eventually grow to a strong tree, and
bear nourishing fruit.
Many caring and compassionate people
are moved to help those who are less fortunate than ourselves, but they lack
the opportunity to do so. When an opportunity does present itself, we should
seize it with gratitude. Our year in Lusaka presented Robyn with one such
unique opportunity. While I was off designing water schemes, Robyn was not
permitted to engage in paid work. Instead, she volunteered to teach basic
English, maths and craft, with children in the Lusaka Hospital paediatrics
ward. Often, their parents slept under their beds, and had to bring food for
themselves and their children. There were always families wailing in the
outdoors areas, as quite often the children died. Robyn also volunteered to teach
sewing to young girls at the YWCA, so that they could make their own clothes,
and have skills that would help them to gain employment later in life. This
dedication to helping others, born in Zambia, continues to this day.
Making good use of our year in Zambia,
we visited most corners of the country … the Copperbelt (Ndola, through the
mining towns and out to Solwezi), Northern Province (Kalambo Falls, Mbala and
Nakonde), Kafue Game Park, and south to the Kariba Dam, unaware that this area
was gradually becoming a guerrilla hot-spot in the escalating war with
Rhodesia. We also visited the magnificent Victoria Falls, Mosi-oa-Tunya,
"The Smoke That Thunders". It did not disappoint. It was, however,
unfortunate that we could not cross into Rhodesia, via the iconic arch bridge,
spanning the mighty Zambezi River.
Many years later, in 2002, we visited
Capetown, Johannesburg and Pretoria (in South Africa) and Harare (in Zimbabwe
[formerly Rhodesia]), as part of a holiday, lecture tour and inspection of micro-credit
projects. But it was not until 2019, that another southern African trip
provided us with the opportunity to at last stride across the Zambezi Arch,
from Victoria Falls into Zambia, to continue by taxi to nearby Livingstone, and
then by local bus for the full-day trip to Lusaka, the city where we made so
many good friends over four decades earlier.
In September 1976,
we departed Zambia for Australia, taking the opportunity to drive through Malawi
(Blantyre, Zomba and Lake Malawi), and to visit friends in Kenya (Mombasa and
Nairobi).
Isolated back in Australia, we did not
get much meaningful news from Africa. By 1978, the war between the Rhodesian
minority government and the various guerrilla organisations (Robert Mugabe’s
Mozambique-based ZANU, Joshua Ncomo’s Zambian-based ZAPU, and others) was
reaching a climax, with cross-border incursions by both sides to and from
Mozambique and Zambia. On 3 September 1978, cadres of ZIPRA (the armed wing of
Zambian-based ZAPU) used surface-to-air missiles to shoot down an Air Rhodesia
civilian passenger plane. Thirty-eight passengers were killed in the crash, and
another ten men, women and children (who had initially survived) were
machine-gunned to death. Only eight of the original passengers survived to tell
the story. The barbarity and brutality are beyond belief. [xiv] Rhodesian retribution was swift and coordinated, with the launch
of Operation Gatling. On 19 October 1978, the Rhodesian Air Force’s “Green
Leader Raid” bombed the ZIPRA base at Westlands Farm, the helicopter-borne
Rhodesian Light Infantry attacked the nearby Chikumbi base, and the Rhodesian
SAS struck the ZIPRA base at Mkushi. Well over 1,500 people died that day. [6] [xv]
It is truly chilling to listen (43 years later) to
the original recording of Green Leader’s voice, supercharged with testosterone
and oozing adrenalin, as he releases the bombs that will kill hundreds of his
fellow humans at Westland Farm.
“… I’m going to get them … f-ing beautiful … bombs
gone. They’re running. Beautiful. Jesus Christ, you ought to see them f-ers,
them bombs are beautiful … f-ing beautiful … f-ing magnificent … they’re like
f-ing ants running around there.” [xvi]
War makes men into monsters,
no matter which side they are on.
Just two years
previous, we had left Zambia. In isolated Australia, we remained oblivious to
these events. Westland Farm, the target of the “Green Leader” raid, was only a
short 16 kilometres from our Lusaka townhouse!
………………………………
Chapter 5 – Almaty,
Kazakhstan, 2016
Almaty is the largest
city and former capital of Kazakhstan. Here we joined our formal three-week
tour of three of the “stans” (Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan and Uzbekistan), here we
met our two travelling companions and here we met the first of our two
delightful guides. Travel in the company
of friendly and adventurous companions is always fun, and we were blessed with
the best.
Almaty is a modern clean city
with an impressive mountain backdrop on the northern edge of the Tian Shan
range. What impresses most is the unexpected modernity of the city, the tall
buildings, the moderate but well-disciplined traffic, and the apparent
affluence of the people. The wealthy have homes nestling above the city in the foothills
of the Tian Shan, while the less affluent have homes below the city on the edge
of the vast Central Asian steppe.
As a tourist, there are some aspects
of a country that are difficult to gauge. For example, Kazakhstan is considered
by the World Bank and the World Economic forum to have a severe corruption
problem, although, we were oblivious of such concerns.[xvii]
The city boasts a diversity of attractions, the Green Market, the renovated
Russian Orthodox cathedral, the historical museum, the music museum and the war
memorial ... no ex-soviet republic would be complete without one. The
highlights of this introductory tour included the skating rink enfolded within
the Tian Shan slopes, and the lookout, replete with entertainment area,
overlooking the city. A timely reminder of the cultural diversity and richness
of this region, was an open-air opera rehearsal being conducted as the sun set
over the city below.
Leaving Almaty, we headed north-east,
skirting the edge of the Tian Shan along the old Northern Silk Road. Although
geographically the simplest route, this road was the least favoured by the
traders of old, because it exposed the travellers to the onslaughts of
marauding nomadic Mongols, sweeping down from the north, across the broad Asian
steppe. To avoid these attacks, the caravans often turned south, crossing the
Tian Shan through a series of passes, such as Charyn
Canyon. This canyon is an 150-kilometre-long series of slashes of
spectacular grandeur in the red sandstone plateau.[xviii]
Today the grasslands of the steppe are peaceful, and the northern corridor is
favoured for the burgeoning east-west rail and road trade, between Europe and
China, rather than this canyon shortcut into the remote mountain region of
north-eastern Kyrgyzstan.
………………………………
Chapter 6 – Karakol, Kyrgyzstan, 2016
Entry into Kyrgyzstan, by this route,
provides a gentle reminder that this mountainous republic is still very much a
rural-based society, in which pastoralists venture into the hills each summer
to tend their flocks. While modern caravans and trucks are in evidence, the
yurt (the antecedent of the modern dome tent) is still the preferred
accommodation option, while the horse is still the most effective means of
managing the migrating flocks. But it would be wrong to assume that all rural
activities are stuck in the past. We were warmly welcomed to dinner at a modern
horse stud, owned and operated by a very proud husband and wife team, who have
built a flourishing business during the last 25 years. With three horses
entered in the second World Nomad Games (to be held within a week in nearby
Cholpon-Atawithinon), this couple have much justification for pride.
The attractions of northern Kyrgyzstan
are many – Jeti Oguz Valley and Chon Kemin National Park; and a couple of
laid-back days of sight-seeing were very enjoyable. And of course, there is
Issyk Kul Lake.
“Water ... clear,
calm and cool. This is my fondest memory.
This was the vast expanse of Issyk-Kul Lake, high in the northern Tian
Shan Mountains of Central Asian Kyrgyzstan …” This is the setting and these
are the opening lines of “Aurora, Bukhara, Crux”, in which a young Russian boy commences his maritime adventures on
this lake. He joins the Russian navy at the opening of the 20th
century and must endure the humiliating defeats of the Russo-Japanese War and
the First World War (the Great War), navigate the intrigues of the Russian
Revolution and the Civil War, and finally survive the siege of Leningrad,
amidst the bloodshed of the Second World War.
These words
also signify a time and place, when a weary traveller, such as I, can pause for
a few days in an idyllic setting, and reflect on the travel experiences of
previous decades. Stepping back in time is a luxury in which busy modern Australians
rarely indulge. But here we go …
………………………………
Chapter 7 – Brisbane, Australia, 1973
I was born in 1950, and my wife,
Robyn, was born two years later, both to hard-working middle-class families
from Brisbane’s burgeoning northern suburbs. Skip forward two decades to 15
December 1973. We married in the morning in Brisbane, had our reception in the
afternoon, flew to Cairns in the evening (my first-ever plane trip), and took
delivery of our borrowed car in the night. Or should I admit, I clutch started
the car, while Robyn (still in her post-wedding going-away dress) pushed the
car in the torrential north Queensland pre-cyclonic rain. Did this momentous
day portend the next five decades of adventures, that we would enjoy together?
Like many other baby-boomers, we took
advantage of the affordable and fast international air travel of the 70’s.
Thirty hours in a jet (no matter how uncomfortable) was more convenient than
the slow voyage by ship of a previous generation. Travel in many parts of Asia
was neither comfortable nor safe at this time. We travelled initially to Europe,
only later exploring other parts of the globe … Africa, Asia, Pacific and the
Americas.
………………………………
Chapter 8 – London, United Kingdom, 1974
Within one week of arriving in London
in March 1974, we had rented a flat, purchased a new VW Kombi van, and we both
had full-time jobs. Although travel of the 70’s was simpler than today, it was
not without its challenges. Mobile phones did not exist. Telecommunications
with Australia were very expensive, and therefore very rare. Normal
communication was by aerogram (light weight letter), whose delivery took up to a
month. Credit cards were not in common use, and travellers’ cheques had to
suffice. Passports were required at every border, and each country had its own
(pre-Euro) currency. The normal tool for engineering calculations was the slide
rule. Personal computers had not been invented and hand-held calculators were
only just becoming affordable. We bought our first hand-held simple calculator
in London, and purchased a manual (non-electric) typewriter, which saw service
for the next decade.
But travel was our passion. Although
living and working in London, the weekends and holidays of 1974 were spent
driving and free-camping in all parts of the United Kingdom. Belfast at the
height of “The Troubles” was our first taste of sectarian violence, barricades,
bomb checks and armoured cars … but it was all requisite experience for future
travels.
………………………………
Chapter 9 – Europe, 1975
The summer of ’75, the open road, and
100 days to “do” Europe. We crossed the
Channel, 1 March, headed down through France, across the Pyrenees at Andorra
and into Spain. Then down through Barcelona and around the coast … Tarragona,
the 13th century Knights Templar castle of Peniscola, Sagunto,
Valencia, Benidorm, and Murcia. Here we departed the coast, heading towards
Granada. As you rise, first into the hill country and then into the mountains,
the orange orchards yield to the sparse tufts of grass, reminiscent of the
drier parts of our homeland. The beauty of the snow-capped Sierra Nevada,
framed by the pretty pink of the peach orchards, dominates the landscape.
Venturing onto smaller side roads brings its own rewards, with sights and
experiences unencountered elsewhere. In 1975, this part of Spain was still very
poor … the first of our many glimpses of rural poverty … small villages with
houses nestling in caves, donkeys labouring under produce-laden wicker baskets,
and elderly black-clad women similarly laden with heavy loads, balanced
dexterously atop their heads.
………………………………
Chapter 10 – Spain, 15th Century
The 15th century was a
turning point in world history. During the 1430’s, the Chinese repudiated the
outward expansion of earlier Ming emperors, leading ultimately to their
humiliating subjugation in the 19th century by expansive European
powers. The fall of Constantinople in 1453 to the Ottoman Sultan Mehmed II,
sealed the Muslim domination of Asia Minor and beyond. The European Renaissance
flowered, proclaiming the victory of arts and science over superstition, and
the fall of Spanish Granada to Christian forces secured Europe’s southern
flank. Here in Granada in 1492, Emir Muhammad XII, the last Muslim ruler in the
Iberian Peninsula, surrendered to the Catholic monarchs, Queen Isabella and
King Ferdinand, confirming Christian domination of a united Spain, which would
conquer the New World in the same year. This, in turn, led to the spread of
European culture throughout the world, and European domination for the next 500
years. Not until the devastation of the 20th century would so many
changes occur is such a short period. Belying the optimism of a tolerant
transfer of power from Muslim to Christian rulers, that should have guaranteed
freedom of religion to the Muslim and Jewish residents of Granada, Christian
intolerance took hold. Just ten years later, the Muslims and Jews were forced,
under threat of violence, to convert or emigrate. [xix]
………………………………
Chapter 11 – Granada, Spain, 1975
Notwithstanding its violent past, the
beauty of Granada surpassed all expectations. The Alhambra fortress, with its
Moorish architecture, unknown in Gothic Europe, towered over the township
crouching in the shadows below. The tranquillity of the Generalife gardens
sprang to life as a sprinkling of falling snow enhanced its natural beauty.
Falling snow may seem “no big deal” to the residents of colder climes, but for
us, a couple of young Queenslanders who had never before witnessed snow
falling, it was simply magic.
Next, to Seville, made wealthy by the
New World plunder of 16th century conquistadors, and then further
west towards the Portuguese border. But here our plans came unstuck. On 11
March 1975 (the day before we were due to cross), the Portuguese Carnations
Revolution came to a head. Army supporters of General Spinola attempted a coup,
which collapsed within hours, as armed workers and soldiers united to hunt down
the coup plotters. [xx]
Uncharacteristically, wisdom overruled our travel plans, and we hastily
deviated to Madrid.
………………………………
Chapter 12 – Aileau, Timor Leste, 2004
A lucky escape … perhaps. But this
revolution would also affect our future, in ways that we could not yet
anticipate. As Portugal dissolved into chaos, it abandoned its colonies around
the world. Mozambique and Angola, wracked by civil war, would become the haven
for Zimbabwe terrorist / freedom-fighters, thus complicating our future time in
Zambia. It would be 2019 before we would visit Mozambique, as part of our
return to South Africa, Namibia, Botswana, Zimbabwe, and our old haunts in
Zambia.
The former Portuguese colony of Timor
Leste (half of a small island within the Indonesian archipelago) also sank into
violence, before being occupied by the Indonesian military. The Timor Gap, that
area of open sea between Timor and Australia, is rich in oil and natural gas.
So, when Australia and Indonesia could not agree on the location of the sea-bed
boundary, the separatist aspirations of a significant proportion of the local
population suited Australia’s purpose well, and Australia enthusiastically
provided political and military support for their independence. Thus, Timor
Leste was born as the poorest country in South-East Asia, a more “satisfactory”
sea-bed boundary was thus negotiated, and Australian companies began “pumping
gas”. It was only when revelations of Australian espionage later surfaced, that
relations soured and Timor Leste launched successful litigation in The Hague
Permanent Court of Arbitration, to have the treaty overturned. Not quite the
outcome that most Australians expected!!!
In 2004, between the bouts of sporadic
violence, I visited Timor Leste, to observe Australian-funded microfinance
projects and village construction. My father had served in this part of Timor
in the war in 1942, as a commando in the 2/4th Independent Company.
They had been set ashore from the naval destroyer, “Voyager”, to relieve
remnants of the 2/2nd Independent Company … the famous “Sparrow
Force” … and to continue their guerrilla operations, in the hills behind
Japanese-occupied Dili. But such operations do not always run to plan. During
the landing, the ship ran aground, was bombed, and subsequently scuttled.[xxi]
The joint commando forces then carried on their clandestine operations for
another four months, before being evacuated. This retreat required the
commandos, who were sufficiently fit, including my father, to swim out through
the surf of Betano Bay to waiting boats, for the final escape on the naval
destroyer, “Arunta”.
2004 … and I now wandered about the
quiet little village of Aileau, high in the Timor hills behind Dili, the same
area where my father had served, 62 years previous. But I was here, not to commit
sabotage, but to witness the rebuilding of communities. How times change … and
how fortunate are we modern Australians, to have the opportunity to carry out
acts of construction, rather than acts of destruction.
………………………………
Chapter 13 – Southern Europe, 1975
But I have strayed too far from the
narrative of our 1975 European road trip. By now we were used to free camping,
but this is not such a smart practice in a region frequented by Basque
terrorists. The resulting late-night visit by the military was the first of
several such encounters during the next three months, but hey … when you are in
your twenties you are bullet-proof.
Next came a loop through Italy, and a
run down the Dalmatian coast into sunny Greece. It was here, amongst the ruins
of ancient Greece, that my newly-acquired infatuation with history bloomed into
a full-blown passion, which would last the rest of my days. During the
remainder of this trip, we would visit most European countries, many of which
we would revisit multiple times, during the following decades. History on more
history … I could not get enough. But for now, we were about to cross the
border from Greece into Turkey.
A year previous, in 1974, a
Greek-backed coup in Cyprus had drawn Greece and Turkey into a brief war,
during which Turkish troops occupied a significant proportion of the island,
and now the two countries faced off over a Cypriot cease-fire line. [xxii] Needless to say, the temperature on the
Greek-Turkish border, near Ipsala, was “frosty”. But cross we did, and
eventually made our way down the peninsula to Gallipoli [7]
… that place so sacred to the memory of fallen Australians. Although 1975 was
well before the era when a “visit to ANZAC Cove” was a popular right-of-passage
for young Aussies, the magnetism of mystique, history and tragedy of the
peninsula was still irresistible. [xxiii]
………………………………
Chapter 14 – Gallipoli, Turkey, 1975
The serenity of Loan Pine cemetery
helps sooth the rawness of this place’s violent history, as we searched
(unsuccessfully) among the lists of the fallen for an inscription to Sergeant
Herbert Fowles. Bert Fowles was the only son of John and Agnes Fowles (my great
grandparents), the only brother of my grandmother (Karma) and her three
sisters. Bert, a 21-year-old unmarried
school teacher from Brisbane, volunteered 25 August 1914 into the 9th
Infantry Battalion. Military tradition was strong in Bert’s family, his father
having risen to the rank of major through the Boer War, in the early 1900’s.
Although the average age of sergeants was 28 years (three years older than
their charges), Bert Fowles’ military and teaching experience ensured that he
rose quickly from private on enlistment, to corporal before the month’s end,
and was promoted to sergeant by mid-January 1915 – a model of military
merit. Just eight months after
enlisting, in the cold darkness of the pre-dawn of 25 April 1915, Bert Fowles
was among the first wave of Australian soldiers who struggled ashore at ANZAC Cove,
and up the steep cliffs fronting the beach.
“The troops had been
warned not to fire, and some on the beach realized that ‘we dared not fire
because of our own being in front of us’, but others forgot their instruction
not to fire before daylight. About half a mile [800 metres] inland Bert Fowles
was shot in the back by a man of the second wave. It happened 20 minutes after
the landing, as Bert climbed the first ridge, Pugges Plateau. Bert knew that he
had been shot by an Australian. Someone heard him say, perhaps to the
stretcher-bearer who tied a shell dressing over his wound, ‘It is hard luck
being hit by one of our own men’. Another man recorded what he said: ‘I told
them … I told them again and again not to open their magazines’. It was the
gentlest of reproaches. Bert reached the beach, carried down by the
stretcher-bearers, but died of blood loss …” [xxiv]
John and Agnes had lost their eldest
child, their only son, while Karma and her sisters had lost their only brother.
………………………………
After a bitter eight-month campaign,
the invading allied troops withdrew, without achieving their objective. In 1975, Robyn and I were on the very spot where
these Australians had invaded and retreated, where they had fought, died and
been defeated. The First World War marked a decisive moment in Australian
history, and to this day, the ANZAC legend is promoted as the “coming-of-age”
of a young nation. But contrary to popular Australian mythology, Australian
deaths (although high) were only 7% of the total campaign deaths, which
numbered well over 100,000. Yet the
Gallipoli legend has lured generations of Australian youth into more than 100
years of almost continual warfare.
By 1975, Australia had been embroiled
for over a decade in the Viet Nam War. “All the way with LBJ …” [8],
Australian Prime Minister Harold Holt had proclaimed back in 1966, and, true to
his word, we had blindly followed our American masters. But, although the war became
increasingly unpopular, our involvement dragged. Over 500 Australians died,
with more than 2,000 wounded, and the war had cost Australia a staggering
$218 million. But worse, Australians had contributed to the death of an
estimated 2 million Vietnamese.
………………………………
Chapter 15 – Ho Chi Minh City, Viet Nam, 2011
In 2011, Robyn and I visited Vietnam
as tourists, eventually making our way to Ho Chi Minh City. In our travels, we
have been to some very confronting places … places that scream evil … the Jerusalem
World Holocaust Remembrance Centre, and the Nazi death camps of Auschwitz and
Dachau. But the knowledge that we Australians (whether we served in the armed
forces or not) were complicit in inflicting the horror, depicted so vividly in
the Ho Chi Minh City War Remnants Museum, still claws at our conscience …
millions of innocent men, women and children were slaughtered simply for the
commercial gain of the political class of a remote superpower. I pray that we
will never again allow such evil. And
yet, in the 21st century it is still happening.
Our visit to Gallipoli was on 7 April
1975, almost 60 years since those fateful ANZAC dawn landings. Ironically, less
than three weeks later, North Vietnamese troops dramatically entered Saigon (now
called Ho Chi Minh City) defeating the South Vietnamese (and by association,
defeating the United States and Australia). Gallipoli had been repeated,
Australia had been defeated … again.
Lone Pine cemetery was, for me, a
turning point, the first time and the first place that I had really been
confronted by the futility of war. The poignancy of the juxtaposition of these
events kick-started our life-long anti-war sentiment. From now on, the retreat
from Gallipoli became symbolic of a necessary paradigm shift … a retreat from
evil, when we pull back from the brink, turn our back on war, and set a new
course in the direction of peace. But so far, that goal has proved elusive.
………………………………
Chapter 16 – Sydney, Australia, 2021
Previous generations of Australians have
dutifully followed Britain into a series of remote conflicts … China’s Boxer
uprising, the South African Boer War, the disastrous European World War 1 and
the European theatre of World War 2. Australia’s lack of preparedness for a
Pacific conflict with Japan, in 1941, is largely attributable to the fact, that
most of Australia’s regular armed forces were engaged in a war in support of
British masters on the other side of the world.
Our “rescue” by the United States from the Japanese, and the post-war
decline of Britain, heralded an altogether unhealthy reliance on US
“protection”. This reliance was consummated through the ANZUS Treaty of 1951,
which has led directly to Australia’s involvement in the Korean War, the Viet
Nam War, two Iraq Wars, the Afghanistan War and the Syrian conflict.
In 2001, Australia committed to support
the American invasion of Afghanistan, in retaliation for the “911” terrorist
attacks on the New York World Trade Centre buildings. Responding to the 2001
attacks, Prime Minister John Howard effectively committed Australia to 20 years
of continuous war, stating,
“… [I have] expressed our
resolute support for the United States … our steadfast commitment to work with the
United States … in support of the US response to these attacks.”[xxv]
Consider the similarities with Prime
Minister Harold Holt’s 1966 theme,
“… All the way with LBJ …”,
and Prime Minister Robert Menzies 1939
pledge,
“… Great Britain has declared
war on [Germany] and …, as a result, Australia is also at war …”,[xxvi] and
Prime Minister Andrew Fisher’s 1914
declaration,
“… Australians will
stand beside … [Britain] to help and
defend her to the last man and the last shilling".
Perhaps the Australian wars, of a
century and a half, should be more wisely remembered as tragedies, when an
immature country sacrificed its impetuous youth, for the benefit of nobody
except its avaricious overlords.
………………………………
My great-grandfather served in the
Boer War, rising to the rank of colonel during the First World War, my
great-uncle, a sergeant, died a hero’s death at ANZAC Cove, my grandfather
received an MBE and saw action in both First and Second World Wars (including
the 1944 Cowra breakout of Japanese POWs), my uncle (the first Australian
officer to cross the Kokoda Track[9])
was wounded and awarded the Military Cross[xxvii],
my cousin served in the SAS in Viet Nam, and my own father served as a commando
in amphibious landings in Timor, New Guinea and in the East Indies. In short,
my pedigree for military service was (to say the least) very strong. My father
did not talk much about his military service … perhaps he chose not the
remember the killing, that he must have witnessed and (most likely) in which he
participated.
Conscription had been introduced into
Australia in the 1960’s to fill the quota of soldiers, needed to satisfy the
political promises made to help Americans prosecute their Vietnamese war. A
naïve nineteen-year-old, I would have willingly gone, had my birthday come up
in the conscription lottery. But events do not always pan out the way you
expect … fortuitously, I was not required to do military service. My lack of
military service clearly limits my understanding of the moral and emotional
pressures on those who must undertake the grim fighting that servicemen and servicewomen
are required to execute.
But, on the positive side, this lack
of focus on matters military enables me to contemplate the broader sweep of
history. As I write these final passages of this narrative in late August 2021,
our attention is particularly drawn to the disastrous events unfolding in
Afghanistan … the swift withdrawal of American (and Australian) support, the
collapse of the government, the rapid Taliban victories, the frantic
evacuations from Kabul airport, and the appalling terrorist bombing by ISIS K.
There is much media and public criticism of the withdrawal and the rescue
missions. But, this narrow focus, on short-term tactical concerns, puts at risk
the proper consideration of the wider issues. In 2001, it was patently clear
(to anyone with even the most rudimentary knowledge of Central Asian history)
that a western invasion of Afghanistan would end in disaster. The “eagle” would
be no more successful than the “bear” or the “lion” had been. It remains to be
seen, in 2021, whether the “dragon” is foolish enough to try filling the
political vacuum.
………………………………
Chapter 17 – Karakol Kyrgyzstan, 2016
2016 again, and I am on holidays in
Karakol in Kyrgyzstan, nestled on the eastern edge of Issyk-Kul Lake, that huge
reservoir of tranquillity. The history of Karakol is the history of Russian
penetration of the region. Founded 1 July 1869, it grew steadily with the
arrival of Chinese Muslim Dungan refugees. Now the
twenty-first century tourists are the new invaders, besieging the old
buildings, the wooden Russian Orthodox Cathedral (built to replace the previous
stone building that was destroyed by earthquake), the timber Dungan Mosque,
with its intricate carvings, and ingeniously built without the use of nails.
But it is the Przhevalsky Museum, on the edge of Issyk-Kul Lake, that offers
the greatest intrigue.
Here in Karakol, was our introduction
to the players of the Great Game, those real people who lived the fantasies of
Rudyard Kipling’s fiction.[10]
The Great Game is the name given to the British and Russian intrigues and
espionage, as they vied for control of Central Asia, in the 19th century, over
100 years before the similar American-British and Russian rivalry poisoned
international cooperation in this same region again. [xxviii]
[xxix]
In due course, I would discover Younghusband,
Stein, Stoddart, Conolly, Frunze, Bailey, Malleson, Dunsterville, Ibrahim,
Enver and … Przhevalsky.
………………………………
Chapter 18 – Central Asia, 18th
and 19th centuries
During the 18th and 19th
centuries, Spain, Portugal and Netherlands had suffered major losses of their
overseas empires. France had been eclipsed by Britain, Russia and their allies
in a series of wars, culminating in the rout of Napoleonic France in 1812 by
the Russians, and in 1815 by the combined British, Prussian, Dutch and other
allied forces. By the late 1800’s, Russia and Britain were the last two powers
left standing, the leading players in the struggle for world domination … the
superpowers of their age. And now these players faced off in the “Great Game”,
the intrigues and incursions across the frontiers segregating
Russian-controlled Central Asia from British-controlled India, the “jewel in
the crown”. The Khyber Pass and the strategic corridors into Afghanistan, the
rugged peaks and isolated valleys of the Himalayan chain, and the mysterious
forbidding Tibetan Plateau … these provided the board on which this
international chess game was played.
Przhevalsky verses Younghusband … the
conquest of Tibet. That the former name of Karakol was Przhevalsky invites explanation.
Our 2016 museum tour started beside the Issyk Kul Lake, where a memorial is
dedicated to the Russian explorer, Nicholay Przhevalsky, who died here of typhus in 1888. Already
renowned for his journeys exploring Siberia, Mongolia, China, Northern Tibet
and Central Asia, Przhevalsky had sacrificed a life of comfort to his passion
for exploration. But his writings betray his adherence to the prevailing attitudes of
European arrogance, that accompanied such passion.
“Here
you can penetrate anywhere, only not with the Gospels under your arm, but with
money in your pocket, a carbine in one hand and a whip in the other. Europeans
must use these to come and bear away in the name of civilisation all these
dregs of the human race. A thousand of our soldiers would be enough to subdue
all Asia from Lake Baykal to the Himalayas....”
The Russian push into Tibet died with
Przhevalsky on the shores of Issyk-Kul Lake, and it was a further fifteen years
before their deadly enemies, the British, accomplished the first European
penetration to Lhasa. From an early age, Francis Younghusband was destined to
be one of the major players of the Great Game. Born into a military family in
India in 1863, Younghusband had, at the age of 24, participated with Henry
James and Harry Fulford, in a reconnaissance expedition in Manchuria and the Chinese
Changbai Mountains. He then travelled west across China, along the old Silk
Road through the arid Taklamakan Desert to Kashgar, charted the Mustagh Pass,
transited the Karakoram Range, Hindu Kush, the Pamir Plateau at the western end
of the Himalayas, and south to Yarkand and Kashmir in northern India. Perhaps one
of the most celebrated incidents of Younghusband’s career was his 1889 chance
meeting, in the Yarkand Valley, with the Russian, Bronislav Grombchevsky, who
invited him to dinner in the Russian camp. Inhibitions suppressed by their
shared vodka and brandy, the rival officers, discussed the Great Game well into
the night. After a show of Russian Cossack horsemanship was balanced by a
demonstration of British Gurkha rifle drill, the opposing companies continued
on their separate ways.
Younghusband, acting on the orders of
the Indian viceroy, Curzon, made other incursions into the Himalayas,
culminating in the 1903 to 1904 invasion of Tibet. This was a well-organized
and armed military invasion, that pitted rifles and machine guns against
disorganized monks, who were armed only with flintlocks, swords, and hoes. The
casualty count … 5 British against 5,000 Tibetans killed (approximate).
Younghusband forced the signing of the Treaty of Lhasa, only to have it
subsequently repudiated by the British government, which was at that time
currying favour with the Chinese, in order to promote coastal trade.
International politics never was, and never will be, straightforward. [xxx]
[xxxi] [xxxii]
………………………………
Chapter 19 – Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan, 2016
But return, I must, to our 2016 holiday.
Travelling west from Karakol, the road skirts the northern shore of Issyk-Kul
Lake, before exiting the valley, through a mountain pass towards Shabdan in the
Chon Kemin National Park. A laid-back morning of horse riding and sight-seeing,
preceded the resumption of the trek further west to the capital, Bishkek. Here
the road significantly improves, compared to the pot-holed rural roads
elsewhere in Kyrgyzstan.
Like other large cities of Central
Asia, Bishkek is clean and tidy, complete with monuments and museums to
commemorate the last 25 years since independence from the defunct Soviet Union.
Although we were not in the city for the 25th year celebrations, we were
fortunate to witness the rehearsal ... bands playing stirring martial music,
precision marching and the salute taken from a couple of aged convertible
automobiles.
Although an early morning dash to the
airport for our departure for Tashkent went smoothly, there was unsettling news,
that the Chinese embassy, close to our Bishkek hotel, had been bombed overnight
by Uyghur separatists.
………………………………
Chapter 20 – Tashkent, Uzbekistan, 2016
Clearing Tashkent airport, we met our
new guide who proved over the next couple of days to be a most resourceful and
caring travelling companion. First
impressions of Tashkent are of broad tree-lined streets, with hardly a trace of
litter, for reasons that would become apparent in the next couple of days. For
the time being, we settled down to a walking tour of the usual sights, first to
the immaculate metro stations, trying hard to imitate the glitter of their
Moscow counterparts, and then on to the Monument of Courage, commemorating the
victims of the devastating 1966 earthquake. This event wrought widespread devastation,
destroying 80% of Tashkent, killing up to 200 people and leaving up to 300,000
homeless, but today the only sign of the devastation is the Monument to
Courage, dedicated to the people who rebuilt the ruined city.[xxxiii] [xxxiv]
………………………………
Chapter 21 – Asia-Pacific Region, 2004 to 2021
The Tashkent earthquake and the
subsequent Monument to Courage are reminders of both the fragility of human
life, and the resilience of the human spirit. Of course, natural disasters are
not confined to Central Asia, and devastating earthquakes, cyclones and
tsunamis regularly wreak havoc throughout many parts of the world, including
regions close to Australia. For over four decades, my engineering career
included the writing of Australian Standards, design manuals and building regulations.
Many of these documents are aimed at ensuring the structural safety of
buildings and other structures, when subjected to extreme wind or seismic
activity. While the importance of such standards, manuals and regulations
should not be underestimated, it is only when one visits the site of a natural
disaster, that the true scale of the human impact can be appreciated.
On 26th December 2004, a massive
magnitude 9.1 earthquake occurred off the Indonesian coast, near Banda Aceh,
triggering the Indian Ocean Tsunami, with waves up to 30 metres high. Over
223,000 people perished (183,172 confirmed dead and 40,320 missing), over
600,000 homes were destroyed and approximately 1.8 million people were
displaced. Through no fault of their own, these unfortunate people were just in
the wrong place at the wrong time.
The generosity of the citizens of many
countries resulted in huge rebuilding programs, that mushroomed across the
region, instituted by many NGOs (non-governmental organisations). By mid-2005,
Habitat for Humanity International had identified a need for technical auditing
of their house construction, and management auditing of their program
execution. Acting through Partner Housing Australasia (of which I am the
president), I undertook two probono auditing assignments for Habitat … to
Thailand and Indonesia, and to Sri Lanka and India. The extent of the
devastation that we witnessed was overwhelming, but, so too, was the intensity
of the rebuilding programs.
But not all parts of this region were
peaceful. Although the tsunami had temporarily submerged hostilities, they
would soon flare again in some hotspots.[xxxv]
The road approaching Trincomalee (in eastern Sri Lanka) was, at that time,
lined with military watch-towers spaced strategically about a kilometre apart,
to provide desperately needed security against night-time raids by the Tamil
Tiger (LTTE) terrorist group. Although the Government controlled the cities,
the Tamil Tigers effectively controlled the countryside. Stickers on our
vehicle proclaimed that we were not carrying guns, and a large flag
demonstrated our status as representatives of a peaceful NGO. Even so, our
movements were partially curtailed. Our driver, a Muslim, was prevented from
entering one of the refugee camps, for fear of sparking a riot amongst the
displaced Tamil residents.
Fortunately, not all hostilities were
resumed after the tsunami and reconstruction phase. Banda Aceh and the
surrounding countryside had been notorious for violence, perpetrated by the
Free Aceh Movement (GAM) and government retribution. These resulted in over
15,000 deaths during a 30-year period. By the time of our 2005 visit,
hostilities had ceased, and an uneasy peace presaged a more-permanent move from
military activity towards political engagement. [xxxvi]
My first experience in Solomon Islands,
in 2007, was also in response to an earthquake and tsunami. Although this
disaster was on a much smaller scale than the Indian Ocean tsunami, my
involvement was more immediate, planning the execution of village rebuilding on
the western end of Gizo Island. Of even greater significance, this trip served
as the precursor to our much wider involvement, over many years, in providing
water and sanitation services in the remote islands of Ranongga and Vella
Lavella.
………………………………
Chapter 22 – Brisbane and Sydney, Australia,
1976-2021
While our 1974 to 1976 adventures in
Europe and Africa stimulated the adrenalin, the call of family life in one’s
own country are also strong. Settling first in our hometown of Brisbane in late
1976, and then moving south to Sydney in 1980, Robyn and I threw ourselves into
suburban family commitment … parented four delightful and spirited daughters,
made new friends, and actively participated in church and community activities.
I dabbled in party politics, and served a four-year term as an elected
councillor on one of the larger suburban councils. A decade later came a career
change, as I graduated from employee of a multinational manufacturer to become principal
of my own specialist consulting engineering firm, plus a couple of spin-off
businesses. The real advantage of self-employment is liberation … the freedom
to take risks, the flexibility to undertake work that benefits others, and the
opportunity to indulge one’s passion in promoting meaningful change in the
world.
………………………………
Chapter 23 – Asia-Pacific Region, 1985-2021
In the early 1980’s, Robyn and I
became friends with Dr Vinay Samuel, a leading Indian theologian, with a
hands-on approach to practical pastoral care. Through this initial contact, we
have made many other lasting friendships with Indian nationals, many of whom we
have visited in India, and others whom we have hosted as they migrated to
Australia. Over a 36-year period, I have been privileged to visit India seven
times, for work, tourism and humanitarian aid projects. India is the most
exotic place imaginable, with a culture that can simultaneously appall and
inspire. To know India is to know yourself.
Through Vinay, I met David Bussau, the
Australian philanthropist and future Senior Australian of the Year, who founded
Opportunity International, and established micro-credit programs for the poor
around the world. These people were my role-models. In 1993, I attended the
Opportunity International conference in Thailand. David Bussau and his staff
organized the conference, Vinay Samuel was a guest speaker, and here I met and
became good friends with Sir John Ford, former British High Commissioner to
Canada and former British Ambassador to Indonesia. The real highlight was our
subsequent small-group trip through remote parts of Philippines and Indonesia …
Sulawesi, Sumatra, Bali, Luzon and Mindanao. This trip was a turning point in
so many ways. We visited Manila’s infamous Smoky Mountain, where the poor
lived, worked and died amongst the city’s garbage. But it was in the remote
Mindanao city of Cagayan de Oro, where the inequity of poverty struck a
personal indelible chord. As I stood in the sunlight on the edge of a putrid
pool at the local garbage dump, a man quietly carried out his daily ablutions
close by. He was condemned to suffer the indignity of grinding poverty, while I
luxuriate in the comfort and safety of undeserved relative wealth. From that
day onwards, I vowed to use my professional skills to benefit the poor … a
commitment that led to my leadership of Partner Housing Australasia.
Partner Housing Australasia was constituted
in 2005[11],
subsequently adopting the following vision statement …
“Partner Housing is an
entirely voluntary organisation, which aims to transform the lives of people
living in Asia-Pacific villages by improving the cyclone, earthquake and
tsunami resistance of their houses, clinics, schools and community buildings;
and by providing clean water supplies and hygienic sanitation.”
I am the volunteer President / CEO /
Public Officer, while Robyn is the volunteer HR Manager and one of the thirteen
volunteer Board Directors.[12]
The endless hours of voluntary probono work are fully compensated by the reward
of witnessing appreciative villagers, during the construction of water
reticulation systems in remote Solomon Islands, latrines in Philippines, Papua
New Guinea community health buildings, and cyclone anchorages in the Cook Islands
in Mangaia.[13] [xxxvii]
[xxxviii]
………………………………
Chapter 24 – Tari, Komo and Mt Hagen, Papua New Guinea,
2015-2018
Perhaps my most interesting Partner
Housing Australasia project also occurred in response to an earthquake, this
time in the Papua New Guinea Highlands in Hela Province. In 2018, a magnitude
7.6 earthquake devastated the area, killing over 200 people … but there were
further complications. On-going tremors were still occurring, and local tribal
violence and banditry were contributing to continuing fatalities. Bands of
local youths roamed about, armed with guns and machetes, and buildings were
being torched. The United Nations aid contingent was evacuated, pending the
arrival of the army, to secure the area a week later. But I was there on a
fairly tight schedule, to carry out probono building inspections of damaged
churches, schools, clinics and houses on behalf of the Catholic diocese. After
spending a couple of nights as a guest of the Catholic Capuchin Monks in Mendi,
we made the decision to venture further west into the devastated region. Three
of us (an expat Indian priest, my colleague from the neighbouring PNG Western
Highlands Province, and I) set out by road for Tari and Komo in Hela Province.
The building inspections were successfully completed in four days, but not
before we experienced a further tremor, quickly bypassed a burning building,
which had been torched by disgruntled locals, met some gun-toting youths, and
hastily exited one area, when my excited colleague called, “Get back in the car
… someone is coming with a gun!”.
Not all PNG experiences involve such
excitement. In 2015, I was invited by my friend to speak (with the aid of an
interpreter) at the “crying ceremony” for his deceased father. I was the only
non-indigenous person amongst the 600 plus indigenous mourners, who
individually and collectively were vociferously demonstrating great outpouring
of grief. That my friend and his community had accorded me such respect, by
inviting me to speak, was truly humbling.
Much of this narrative describes the
hardships faced by people who suffer as a result of war, violence and natural
disasters. But it is also intended as a salute to the dedication of men and
women, who labour tirelessly through NGOs, churches and other organisations, to
help our neighbours in the developing countries of the Asia-Pacific region.
………………………………
Chapter 25 – Tashkent, Uzbekistan, 2016
Back to 2016, and resuming our walking
tour of Tashkent. We moved from the Monument to Courage earthquake memorial to
the precinct dedicated to the sacrifices of the soldiers during the Second
World War (1941 [not 1939] to 1945), mandatory in any former soviet republic.
And then it got interesting.
Due to a succession of Independence
Day wreath-laying ceremonies, our access to the Independence Monument, via the
main entrance, was restricted. Undeterred, we skirted the official activities
towards the side gate, only to be accosted, not by the police (as expected),
but by a couple of television crews.
“What do you think of
Uzbekistan? What do you like about Tashkent? What would you like to say to the
people?” and so on.
Never the shrinking-violets, and
undeterred by the fact the we had been in the country a whole four-hours, Robyn
and I both rose to the occasion.
“Thank you for the warm welcome.
What a beautiful city. Congratulations on 25 years of independence ... blah,
blah, blah ...”.
While we know roughly what we said, to
this day we have no idea how the voice-over translated it. Because there were
no adverse repercussions, it must have been okay. It was 31 August 2016 …
remember this date. [xxxix] ………………………………
Chapter 26 – Samarkand, Uzbekistan, 15th Century
Like all modern countries, Uzbekistan
enjoys the luxury of a fast train service ... the new way to travel the Silk
Road. The quick journey through the flat farmlands, from modern Tashkent to
historic Samarkand, was both relaxing and interesting. For nearly three
millennia, Samarkand has endured invasion after invasion. Most likely founded
between the 8th and 7th centuries BCE, the city was incorporated into the Persian
Achaemenid Empire,
from 550
to 330 BCE, as the Sogdian Satrapy. Next
came the Greek, Alexander, in 329 BCE, and his Hellenistic successors, the Seleucid
Empire, the Greco-Bactrian Kingdom and Kushan
Empires.
The Sassanians conquered
Samarkand around 260 AD, followed by the Hephtalites and the Turks,
who were obliged to pay tribute to the Chinese Tang Dynasty. During this
period a number of religions flourished in Samarkand, including Buddhism, Zoroastrianism, Hinduism, Manichaeism, Judaism, and Nestorian Christianity. Eventually the Arab Muslim armies,
of the Baghdad Umayyad Caliphate, defeated the
Turks, to capture Samarkand around 710 AD. Ruled successively by the Arab Abbasids
and then the Samanids, Samarkand eventually succumbed to the Turkic Karakhanids, who were
followed by other Turkic peoples, the Seljuqs and the Khwarazm-Shahs. In 1220, the
Mongol, Genghis Khan (Temujin), conquered and pillaged
Samarkand, which suffered a further Mongol sack by Khan Baraq. In 1370, Timur (a.k.a. Tamerlane) expelled
the Mongols and made Samarkand the capital of his empire. Following in the
footsteps of Alexander and Genghis Khan, Timur set out to expand his empire
from modern day Turkey in the west, to China in the east. While Timur went
close to this goal, his achievements were ephemeral. On Timur’s death in 1405,
the empire fractured, to be finally supplanted in 1505 by the Shaybanid Uzbec
warriors, followed by Nadir Shah, the Ashtarkhanids and the Manghy emirs of
Bukhara. Samarkand passed to Russian control in 1886, under Soviet suzerainty from
1925, and finally became part of independent Uzbekistan in 1991.[xl]
Of these invaders, it was Timur who
has had the most lasting effect on Samarkand. Although the ravages of
subsequent invasions, and the natural elements have not been kind to his magnificent
buildings, many have now been restored, and serve as the symbols linking modern
Uzbekistan with its Timurid past. These include Timur’s Mausoleum, the Registan
madrassas of Ulugh Beg, Sher-Dor and Tilya Kori and the Mosque of Bibi Khonym,
Timur’s favourite wife. Of religious significance, the Shah-i-Zindah avenue of
mausoleums (constructed from the 9th to the 14th centuries, and then the 19th
century) includes a mausoleum commemorating Kussam ibn Abbas, cousin of the
prophet Muhammad. [xli]
On the death of Timur in 1405, his
son, Shah Rukh, became ruler, based in Herat, with his sixteen-year-old son,
Ulugh Beg, installed in 1409 as the governor in Samarkand. By 1411, Ulugh Beg
was the sovereign ruler of the whole Mavarannahr khanate. Ulugh Beg was no ordinary ruler; he was also
a prominent scientist, and an astronomer of note. Without the aid of a telescope,
and working with a 36-metre radius sextant built within his Samarkand
observatory, he achieved truly remarkable results. In 1437, Ulugh Beg compiled
the accurate Zij-i-Sultani star catalogue of 994 stars, and determined
the length of the sidereal year as 365 days 6 hours 10 minutes 8
seconds (an error of only 58 seconds). This he later corrected to 365 days
5 hours 49 minutes 15 seconds (an error of only 25 seconds), making it
more accurate than Copernicus' estimate, which had an error of 30 seconds.
He also calculated the tilt of the Earth's axis to be 23.52
degrees, more accurate than later measurements by both Copernicus and Tycho
Brahe. [xlii]
However, from the perspective of
modern Uzbekistan, it is 15th century Timur, not Ulugh Beg, who is the local hero.
With a fearsome reputation for cruelty, he was ruthlessly efficient in
achieving his goals. For him, the ends always justified the means. The enormous
and beautiful mausoleums, madrassas and mosques testify to his wealth and
prestige.
………………………………
Chapter 27 – Samarkand, Uzbekistan, 2016
It is said that Timur was the role
model for Uzbekistan President, Islam Karimov. First as Communist Party boss
during the Soviet era, and then as President during the first 25 years of
independence, Karimov ruthlessly quashed all opposition, to mould his country
into a modern efficient state ... and not without some considerable success.
The IHF, Human Rights Watch, Amnesty International, United States Department of
State, and Council of the European Union all define Uzbekistan as "an
authoritarian state with limited civil rights", and express profound
concern about "wide-scale violation of virtually all basic human
rights". [xliii]
In spite of (or perhaps because of) this fearsome reputation, Karimov appeared
to be “loved” by a substantial proportion of the population.
The Uzbek national fetish for urban
cleanliness is achieved by mobilizing (coercing ??) large teams of cleaners
(mainly women) to assiduously apply their labour-intensive sweeping skills to
this task. Perhaps there is but a fine line between civic pride and mindless
obedience. Our second day in Samarkand,
2 September 2016, was somewhat disrupted. From mid-morning, we were amazed to
see an incredible cleaning frenzy under way. Teams of women, some well dressed
with high heels, and others in more functional clothing, were quite literally
hand-washing the pavements, sweeping and removing rubbish. And on a more robust
scale, asphalt was being laid and concrete being poured, all under the watchful
eye and supervision of the police and civil guards. Clearly something had been
afoot from quite early in the morning. As early as 27 August, there had been
internet whispers that President Karimov was gravely ill, no … he had died, no
… he was recovering, no ... he was in perfect health. But still the government
would not clarify the situation. It was fascinating to follow the internet
speculation as to whether he had ... or had not ... died.
President Karimov's 25th anniversary
speech was read on television on 1 September by a presenter, who stated that
public support was helping him recover. According to a later government report,
on 2 September President Karimov “…was in [a] stable neurological condition in
a coma ... He suffered another cardiac arrest at 20:15 UZT on 2 September and
attempts to resuscitate him failed, and he was pronounced dead at 20:55 UZT”.[xliv]
[xlv]
But we had witnessed, a good 10 hours
earlier, the well-advanced program in Samarkand of concrete construction at the
funeral site, the frenzied cleaning of the city, the laying of asphalt in
access roads, and the incredible build up in security. While project managers
deserve great respect, to have mobilized this level of construction and
maintenance activity, even before the president’s official death announcement,
represents fantastic forward planning. Where was the media scrutiny of this
sequence of events? Perhaps they were interviewing a pair of naïve tourists on
trivia, instead of focussing on the deadly political manoeuvring that
accompanied the ill-health and death of an authoritarian president.
The news late on 2 September, that the
President had died, and would be buried the next day in Samarkand ... barely
three kilometres from our hotel ... was not necessarily welcome news. The
funeral would be a huge international event. On the night of 2 September, Samarkand
went into lockdown. Police and guards were bussed in from other cities, and
stationed at 50 metre intervals along all of the major roads. Unauthorized
persons were not allowed in, and there were severe restrictions on the movement
out. Our main problem was that there was no indication of how long the lockdown
would remain. With travel commitments elsewhere, we decided it was time to
break out. Again, blessing our foresight
in travelling light, with only carry-on baggage, we trudged 4 kilometres to
where we could hire taxis (at inordinately inflated rates) to drive us (at high
speed) through the maze that is Samarkand’s back streets, to where our on-going
transport should be waiting.
A cloud of dust and shower of stones
as the vehicle lurched to a halt. Unexpected road repairs ensured no easy exit.
Quickly reversing, the taxi was soon weaving its way back through the labyrinth
of narrow alleys, carefully avoiding the army and police checkpoints. And
finally, after two hours, when we had almost circumnavigated the city, we
escaped the cordon and were free.
At no time were we in any danger, and
the inconvenience was fully compensated by the experience, but this incident
was never-the-less disconcerting. That an entire people could be mobilized to
such demonstrations of “affection” was something reminiscent of Europe in the
1930’s. Was the whole population still being manipulated from the grave?
………………………………
The excesses of the Central Asian
authoritarian regimes are a stark reminder of the fragility of liberal
democracy. While vote rigging, intimidation and torture are the most obvious
abuses inflicted by governments, the ordinary people must also accept
responsibility for compliant obedience, as their freedom of independent thought
is progressively stripped away. People get the government that they deserve,
and people must guard against the abuse of liberal democracy. Instead of
wasting valuable air time screening trivial interviews with a couple of
ill-informed tourists, the Uzbekistan television media should have provided a
much more valuable public service, by investigating and reporting issues such
as the power struggle that followed the death of the president, and its
implications for national security and wellbeing. Media laziness and bias
should be at the forefront of our concerns … we must not be brainwashed by a
biased media. It was claimed that the new president, Shavkat Miriziyoyev, won
an overwhelming 88.6% of the subsequent vote. Not surprisingly, western
monitors reported fraud, with the ODIHR[14]
stating that the election underscored the need for comprehensive reforms in
Uzbekistan”.[xlvi]
Let us hope that the new president does not incite ethnic violence as a means
of rallying the country. If so, the flashpoints will most likely be the
Kyrgyzstan / Uzbekistan border, and the Fergana Valley.
………………………………
In many parts of the world, ethnic and
religious differences are the trigger for violence and repression ...
individual fears and selfishness are reflected in national paranoia and
national selfishness. Terrorism is now rife throughout the world, but it is
born of (and feeds on) the intrigues and wars prosecuted by countries. Our closest recent brush with terrorism[15]
had been the tension of China’s Xinjiang Province and the subsequent bombing of
the Chinese embassy in Bishkek, both attributed to the Uyghurs. Just as the
United States armed the Mujahideen (including Osama bin Ladin) to fight the
Russians during the 1980’s, so too China trained and armed Uyghur fighters for
the same purpose [xlvii]
[xlviii]
… and China now has a major problem with
armed Uyghurs. The greatest threat to world security is state sponsorship of war
and violence.
………………………………
Chapter 28 – Bukhara, Uzbekistan, 2016
After the excitement of Samarkand, the
trip returned to what one would expect of a reasonably conventional tour. The
road climbed over the mountains to Timur’s birthplace Shakhrisabz, then south
to within 40 km of the Afghanistan border, before turning west through the
steppe to Bukhara. Like Samarkand, the ancient city of Bukhara was a major
trading centre of the Silk Road, and its wealth and power are reflected in the
restored architecture. No tourist should
miss the Ismail Samini Mausoleum, Khiva Gate, Friday Mosque, the towering
Kaylan Minaret, Kukeldash and Abdul Aziz Khan Madrassas, the Char Minar and the
peaceful Labiyabi Hauz Pool.
………………………………
Chapter 29 – Central Asia, 19th and 20th
Centuries
But the highlight of Bukhara is the
Ark Fortress, the former seat of power of the emir, and the backdrop for one of
the grizzly incidents of the Great Game.
Colonel Charles Stoddard of the British East India Company arrived in
Bukhara in December 1838, in an attempt to thwart Russian expansion in the
khanates of Khiva, Kokand and Bukhara. But Stoddard managed, with
characteristic British arrogance, to offend the emir Nasrullah Khan, resulting in his
four-year imprisonment. After many months in the “Bug Pit” dungeon of the
Bukhara Ark Fortress, the emir gave Stoddart a choice … convert to Islam or
sacrifice your head. Stoddart chose the former, and from that time his
conditions improved. He was moved to house arrest, and recommenced his
pro-British anti-Russian negotiations with the emir.
But in November 1841, events took a
turn for the worst. Captain Arthur Conolly, a devout evangelical Protestant
with the aim of bringing Christianity and British control to Central Asia,
arrived on a lone rescue mission. He had sought British Government assistance,
but they were occupied otherwise, forcing the Qing Chinese to import opium.[16]
So too, the British East India Company was embroiled in the disastrous invasion
of Afghanistan[17],
which ultimately resulted in the rout of the entire British garrison (save one
survivor) in Kabul on 5 January 1842. This event dramatically demonstrated the
British ineptness in controlling Central Asian politics, and had dire
consequences for Stoddart and Conolly.
Like Stoddart, Conolly had, by this
time, managed to alienate Nasrullah Khan, and both men were to pay the ultimate
price. On 17 June 1842, just five months after the British defeat in Kabul,
first Stoddard, and then Conolly, were publicly beheaded in the square before
the Bukhara Ark Fortress. Despite public outrage, British interest was
elsewhere, and they did not retaliate. Thus, the entire Central Asian region
slipped from British influence to Russian control for the next century and a
half. [xlix]
[l]
………………………………
The interregnum between the formal end
of the Great Game in the late 1800’s,[18]
[li]
and the beginning in 1945 of the Cold War was far from peaceful … two world
wars[19],
the Bolshevik Revolution, the Russian Civil War and the subsequent violent
formation of the USSR.[20]
The Bolshevik Revolution was sparked
by a single blank shot fired from the naval cruiser “Aurora”, moored across the
River Neva from the Winter Palace in St Petersburg[21],
where the government of prime minister Kerensky was meeting. This incident is
one of the many related events recorded in “Aurora”. The chapter traces the
contributions to history and the lives of the crews of three ships, each
bearing the name “Aurora”.
The overthrow of the Russian Czar and
the subsequent disintegration of the Kerensky moderate government led to
another five years of civil war ... Reds versus Whites. All over the empire,
Red (Bolshevik) and White (Menshevik/Czarist) armies fought and pillaged. In Central
Asia, the Red armies were initially successful, but then came the foreign
intervention.
In 1918, British Colonel Bailey, who
had accompanied Francis Younghusband during his 1904 invasion of Tibet, led a British
mission to Tashkent to determine whether the Bolshevik government would support
Raja Mahendra Pratap, in his plans to lead a revolution in India. When his
identity was discovered, Bailey was forced to flee Tashkent. Disguised as an
Austrian prisoner-of-war, Bailey joined the notorious Cheka[22]
as a double agent, pretending to search and expose a British agent … himself. British
General Malleson assisted the Menshevik resistance in Ashkhabad in
Turkmenistan, and led an (unsuccessful) campaign north to Tashkent, Bukhara and
Khiva. In August 1918, the British tried
again to oust the Bolsheviks, sending Major General Dunsterville, who was
repelled only a month after his arrival. This was the end of British intrigues
in Central Asia, but not the end of international intervention.
In 1916, Central Asian Muslims had
opposed to conscription into the depleted and demoralized Czarist armies,
leading to the Basmachi revolt, and to the establishment in 1917 of an
autonomous government in Kokand.[23]
The Bolsheviks responded with a massacre of 25,000 people, and thus the
Basmachi gained considerable local support, enabling them to prosecute both a
guerrilla insurgency, and conventional military campaign in the Fergana Valley
and through large swathes of Turkestan. The Basmachi revolt attracted the
support of foreign leaders, including Enver Pasha, the former Young Turk leader,
who disastrously led Turkey into the losing side of the Great War. After a fitful campaign where fortunes
oscillated, the Bolsheviks eventually captured Bukhara and Kiva, violently
expelling the local rulers during 1920.[lii]
This violent struggle from 1917
through the early 1920’s, between the Bolshevik Red armies and the White
Russian Government armies and their allies, in Bukhara, Khiva, Kokand and
Tashkent, inspired the chapter, “Bukhara”. A former czarist official, now loyal
to the White Russian government, is imprisoned by the victorious Red, army and
awaits his fate in the Bukhara Ark fortress.
………………………………
Chapter 30 – Khiva and Tashkent, Uzbekistan, 2016
Between Bukhara and Khiva, the
traveller becomes painfully aware of the hardships that faced the trading
caravans of yester-year. Thanks to a partially built new highway, the Kara Kum
(Black Desert) and the Qizel Kum (Red Desert) are traversed in less than a day.
But such a journey would previously take three months by camel across the deserts,
with oases providing periodic respite along the way. To the south, you can see
Turkmenistan, across the mighty Amu Darya, the Oxus River, renowned from Alexander’s
Central Asian foray.
With a history stretching back
millennia, the walled city of Khiva was once a key trading centre on the Silk
Road. Substantially rebuilt in the last few centuries, Khiva presents the
tourist with a smorgasbord of mausoleums, madrassas, mosques and minarets ...
Kunya-Ark Palace, the Madrassa of Muhammad Amin-Khan, the Juma Mosque with its
ornately carved forest of timber columns, the iconic unfinished Kalta Minar
minaret, the 19th century soaring Islam Khoja Minaret and so on.[liii] The Mausoleum of Pakhlavani Mahmoud, the 13th
century Sufi teacher and professional wrestler, is a reminder that this region
spawned many poets, teachers, thinkers and scientists, a fact that we tend to
ignore in our focus on western modernity. Our exit from Uzbekistan was via
Tashkent again, where we farewelled our travelling companions. After a
fortnight of “full on” travelling, it was good to “chill out” for a couple of
days ... riding the Tashkent metro, exploring the shops and simply walking the
leafy streets.
We had thoroughly enjoyed our Central
Asian trip. We had witnessed the unfolding of some political drama, and learned
a lot about people and their place in history. As if to footnote this wonderful
experience, we were waiting in the crowd to be admitted to Tashkent International
Airport, when we witnessed an unfortunate man plucked from the crowd by the
police, and dragged away. We have no idea why ... whether he was a terrorist or
a tout ... but we could hear him still screaming as he disappeared from sight.
Life is still fragile in Central Asia.
………………………………
Chapter 31 – Xi’an and Shanghai, China, 2017
2017 … All serious explorers of the
Silk Road must visit Xi’an. From this ancient city of central China, we
commenced the second year of our Silk Road odyssey … the two-year China / Central
Asia / Russia / Eastern Europe holidays.
For well over a millennium, Xi’an was
the on-and-off imperial capital of the Zhou, Qin, Han and Tang dynasties,
supplanted only by Beijing in more recent times. From here the caravans would wend their weary
way westwards, with their precious cargoes of silk and other commodities.[liv] Today however, tourist interest centres a
little further east on the mausoleum complex of the Terracotta Warriors.
Unearthed in 1974, these 6,000 clay warriors, and their 40,000 bronze weapons,
faithfully guarded the resting place of the first Qin emperor, Qin Shi Huang,
for over two millennia, testifying to his imperial greatness … or so it seemed.
But what is greatness? Despite Qin Shi Huang’s propensity to employ violence to
ruthlessly crush his opponents, his dynasty lasted a mere fifteen years (221 to
206 BCE) before being supplanted by the Han Dynasty. Ruthlessness and vanity do
not guarantee longevity.[lv]
[lvi]
From Xi’an, we flew to Shanghai, that
miracle of modernity, the true symbol of the Chinese people’s hard work,
coupled with government foresight and firmness. While the ruthless and brutal
revolutionary Mao Zedong is still revered in the People’s Republic of China, it
was Deng Xiaoping who was the true genius. Reputed as saying,
“Keep
a cool head and maintain a low profile. Never take the lead – but aim to do
something big”,
Deng survived the Cultural Revolution
purges of Mao and the Gang of Four, to finally rise to be paramount leader
between 1978 and 1989. From this position, Deng orchestrated China’s transition
from an economic basket-case, to a manufacturing powerhouse, setting it firmly
on the path to becoming the world’s leading economy in the mid-21st
century.[lvii]
Rising as a testament to Deng’s vision, Shanghai’s Pudong district contributes
over a quarter of Shanghai’s GDP [lviii]…
It literally gleams with glamour.
………………………………
Chapter 32 – Moscow, Russia, 2017
Continuing our exploration of the
former Russian Empire, we flew to Moscow before continuing by train to Saint Petersburg,
and then by coach to Tallin (Estonia), Riga (Latvia) and Vilnius (Lithuania). Russia
was remarkably “laid back”, completely different from our expectations. While
we cannot realistically comment on the treatment of political dissidents in
Russia (or, for that matter, elsewhere in the world, be it in the east or in
the west) we can say that our time wandering through the clean modern streets
of Moscow[lix],
and travelling its Metro, was no different from what we would expect of our own
country. While we partook of guided tours of the Kremlin, Saint Basil’s
Cathedral, the metro stations, churches, monasteries, museums and other tourist
hot-spots, we also had a refreshing amount of free time to “do our own thing”.
As if to rebuff the repression of the soviet era, churches appear well attended,
and monuments to class struggle and warfare are relatively rare.
Chapter 33 –
Saint Petersburg, Russia, 2017
From the modernity of Moscow, we
embarked by fast train for the city of Peter the Great … in more austere times
called Leningrad, but once again known as Saint Petersburg.[lx]
It is here that the wealth of czarist Russia becomes fully apparent. Saint
Petersburg hosts so many iconic buildings, including the enormous orthodox
Cathedral of Saint Isaac, and colourful Church of the Saviour on Spilled Blood,
build in the same “onion dome” style as Moscow’s Saint Basil’s. The final
resting place of the murdered Czar Nicholas II and his family is in the austere
Peter and Paul Fortress, across the River Neva from their former home in the
flamboyant Winter Palace. This breathtaking Winter Palace is now the home of
the inspirational Hermitage Museum, repository of many of the world’s most
treasured artworks. But it is just a foretaste of some of the other examples of
czarist opulence. The epic scale of the blue and white rococo external vista of
the Catherine the Great Palace camouflages the beauty secreted within. Although
gutted and vandalized during the dark days of Nazi occupation, during the
Second World War, the interior has been substantially restored to its former
richness and beauty.
But the magnificence of the Saint
Petersburg architecture hides a more sinister story of cruelty, violence and
inequity. A little upstream from the Winter Palace, our River Neva tour boat
drew near to the historic cruiser, “Aurora”. A century of international
political struggle was heralded by a single shot from this warship in October
1917. The collapse of the Russian Kerensky government, the triumph of the
Bolsheviks, the ascendency of Russian communism, the formation of the USSR, the
1949 communist victory in China, a plethora of other communist revolutions, the
Cold War, Korean War, Vietnam War, and a host of other conflicts can trace
their origin to that single shot. In short, East versus West … while the “gun
was loaded” by many over a long period, it was the crew of the “Aurora” that
“pulled the trigger”. While it is these events that provided the inspiration
for the first chapter of this “Aurora, Bukhara, Crux”, it is the little-known
stories of two other ships of that name … the SY “Aurora” of over a hundred
years ago, and the modern “Aurora Australis” … that demonstrate the power of
peaceful international respect and cooperation. Unlike the warship at anchor on
the Neva, these rescue and supply ships have done much to advance international
understanding, friendship and peace in the world.
………………………………
Chapter 34 – Sydney, Australia, August 2021
We have visited many countries[24],
spread over all six of the populated continents.[25]
More important, we have been able to visit and interact with long-term friends
in several of the countries over nearly five decades. Travel is an addiction
that must be satisfied, like an itch that must be scratched. But how? A few
photos, a diary entry and some shared memories? No … there must be more to it
than that. A lifetime of travel in
exotic (and sometimes dangerous) lands must surely have a point to it. We meet
so many people, some rich, some poor, some comfortable and some struggling. We
witness history. Some is barbaric and violent, while some is uplifting and
inspiring. We observe the cultures of distant peoples, and we start to
understand ourselves. Most of all, we enjoy friendships across the world, as we
share mutual respect with others. And if we are observant, we are able to peer
into the past … to see the mistakes and folly of our forebears … and thus we
are enabled to look forward, and see the possibilities of a brighter
future.
Many of these travel experiences shape
our attitudes to war, diplomacy and our place in the world and its history. I
was old enough to be eligible for the Viet Nam draft, but lucky enough not to
be called. The mind-numbing confronting scenes of Ho Chi Minh City’s American
War Museum, viewed 45 years later in 2011, could not help but invoke a mixture
of pity, sorrow and national shame. In the 1960’s, it had been all too easy to
go “All the way with LBJ”, too easy to forget that we were killing and maiming
ordinary people living in their own country. The poignancy of our 1975 visit to
the Gallipoli battlefield, just the couple of days before the similar western military
debacle in Viet Nam, was a life-changing experience. It was the start of my
transition from hawk to dove, from nationalism to compassion, and from
ignorance to wisdom. And now, in 2021, we are faced with the aftermath of a
similar military debacle.
On a more positive note, I was
privileged to provide pro-bono inspections of reconstruction work in Thailand,
India, Indonesia and Sri Lanka following the 2004 South-East Asian Tsunami. It
was encouraging to witness the extent of international good-will extended to
regions that had so recently been scourged by the narrow-minded violence of the
GAM separatist movement in Indonesia’s Aceh Province and the Tamil Tiger
separatists in eastern Sri Lanka.
So too, the international effort to
rebuild the shattered villages, following the Solomon Islands 2007 earthquake
and tsunami, far eclipsed the ethnic violence that had previously plagued the
island nation, and had occasioned the Australian-led RAMSI police intervention.
While there remained a detectable
undercurrent of sectarian tension in Northern Ireland during our 2006 holiday,
it was a far cry from the tanks and barricades that we witnessed on our first
visit in 1974, during the height of the “Troubles”. That such insular bigotry
could plague a significant part of a major world power, for so long, almost
defies understanding. Religious sectarian violence cannot be sustained in a
modern compassionate world.
These personal experiences fuelled a
long-standing conviction of the evil of armed conflict. There can be very few
justifications for armed aggression. Australians are too quick to step into
world conflicts, too ignorant to understand the causes or the consequences, and
too slow to learn from our previous mistakes. As we exit Afghanistan in 2021,
it is chilling to speculate, “Where to next?”
Most Australians are irresponsibly
ignorant of history, the genome of our culture. The world was not created in
1066 on Hastings Beach on a remote island on the fringe of the Atlantic. Nor
did it commence with a maritime conquest of the New World in 1492, the landing
of a boatload of religious refugees in 1620 at Plymouth Rock, or the arrival of
a convoy of criminals in the antipodes in 1788. Rather, we are the product of a
series of long intertwined cultures stretching back over five millennia of
recorded history ... and even further into the mists of prehistory. Modern
genetic fingerprinting is revealing remarkable surprizes. Put simply, we
are not who we think we are. And the cultural links are even more illuminating.
Even worse than failing to recognize our own pedigree, we ignore and fear our
seven billion neighbours. People are the same around the world. We
all love our children, we all respect our parents, and we all strive for a
peaceful world. But we also fear anyone who speaks another language, dresses
differently, or holds religious views that are not quite the same as our own.
Travel is one of the most important ways to combat bigotry and xenophobia.
Unfortunately, we are often so mentally isolated, that we equate world
travel with a lazy week on a tropical beach, sucking down beers. It is our
responsibility to traverse the entire planet, meeting and encouraging others to
do the same. Rather than seeking out our fellow countrymen when travelling, we
should make an effort to befriend locals. Learn and practice a little
vernacular, it is the effort that counts. Liberally dispense hospitality, open
your home and hearts to travellers. And graciously accept reciprocal displays
of kindness and hospitality, when they are offered. This is how lasting international
friendship and understanding are born and nurtured.
Failure to critically analyse the
current events swirling about us magnifies our ignorance. We wallow in
the trivia and fake news, fed to us by so-called media moguls, who would sell
their own citizenship for a couple more column inches in the global network of
fear and misinformation. Instead of the monochrome bias of the popular media,
we should seek out a kaleidoscope of information from multiple media outlets,
critiquing their sources, and demanding balance. If you are fed enough garbage,
you can grow to like it. One of the more sinister outcomes of media bias is the
dumbing down of political discrimination. No longer do we seek out sustainable
long-term policies that secure a stable and prosperous future for our progeny.
Rather we crave hard uncompromising leadership, as the substitute for visionary
policies based on flexibility and compassion. Mediocrity always trumps vision.
Add to this, a combative two-party bicameral parliamentary system, in which
national governments risk dismissal every few years, on the whim of a handful
of swinging voters in a couple of marginal electorates. The case for a
meaningful overhaul of our political system has never been stronger, but fear
of the unknown paralyses initiative.
We are told that we cannot develop our
own manufacturing industries, because our population is too small, and we
cannot increase our population because there is not enough wealth to go around.
This is simply a ridiculous circular argument, fed by xenophobia and racism.
History is littered with societies extinguished by their failure to grow,
failure to change, and failure to learn. Stagnation is death. Our country has a
wealth of natural resources … more than we can use … and
certainly more than we deserve. There are many who are not so fortunate, who
would love to become citizens with us, and it is in our mutual interest to
share with them. Failure to do so will inevitably result in our conquest, not
militarily, but economically. More progressive societies, seeking our
resources, will simply tempt us with a few “beads and trinkets” … and will then
discard us. At best, our grandchildren will become an ignorant unskilled
underclass of exploited local laborers, subservient to foreign-owned
multinationals. We are a country of immigrants, each new wave stimulating
our economy and revitalizing our society. Now is the time to welcome
new migrants … our future depends on it.
We all make mistakes, and our
countries reflect our collective errors. Just as greed corrupted the citizens
of earlier empires, greed also corrupts us, the citizens of the smaller
“western democracies”. We are induced to jettison our independence, to serve as
the lackeys of the superpowers. Whether it be the all-powerful British Empire
or its successor, the American empire, the parallel with historical experience
is as appalling as it is inescapable.
While we
instinctively revere violent political and military events as those that shape
our world, one must question whether they really merit the veneration that they
attract. Stories of struggle, suffering and sorrow should cause us to pause and
to contemplate our world. Profit gouging by landed nobility or industrial
capitalists, international intrigue by adventurers or diplomats, wars
prosecuted by aristocrats or generals, empire building by Czar or President …
1820 or 2020 … Russia, Germany, Britain or America … What is the difference?
History tells of
the cruel and indifferent exploitation by nations who believed themselves to be
culturally or religiously superior. These have justified appalling atrocities,
committed in the name of civilisation or religion ... really just a smoke
screen for self-interest. But this realisation is just a beginning, not the
end. A new vision for a cooperative, compassionate and caring world can emerge
… one in which small and middle-sized countries are instrumental as peacemakers
… but only if we, the ordinary citizens, recognize and exercise our responsibilities.
So ... When will
we learn our history? When will we befriend our neighbours? When will we seek a
balanced media? When will we reform our political institutions? When will
we act compassionately, and when will we refuse to partake of international
violence? In short, when will we grow up?
The world cries out for a paradigm
shift … a new vision for a cooperative, compassionate and caring world, where
self-interest is subservient to mutual-interest, a new vision in which
countries of the southern cross may emerge as the world’s peacemakers. It is a
time to renounce state-promoted violence and to promote respect, cooperation
and assistance, as the only sustainable means of international interaction.
Within the next few decades, Australia
will adopt a new national flag, the symbol of our national aspirations. The
validity of those symbols will depend not on what we say, but on what we do.
The use of those symbols is not a birthright ... it must be earned.
The wattle flag of the Southern Cross is
non-confronting, non-violent, non-racist, post-colonial, fauna-friendly and
eco-friendly. These are our heartfelt desires … our desiderata.
Appendix 1 – Travel
The author and his wife (Rod and Robyn
Johnston) both recognize and value travel, as essential for broadening their
perspectives. They have criss-crossed Australia, visiting all parts of this
wide country by road and by air. But it is international travel that has
inspired this book. Over a 48-year period, Rod has visited 82 countries and
Robyn has visited 68, many of them multiple times. They have perfected the art
of travelling light – “carry-on” baggage only – a maximum of 7 kg each. Listed below are the overseas trips
undertaken by Rod and Robyn Johnston. Many were holidays, some were for work,
and many were to perform probono volunteer humanitarian work in developing
countries.
* Indicates trips during which Robyn
did not accompany Rod.
1974 to 1975 United Kingdom (including
England, Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland) …
1974 France ...
1975 France, Andorra, Spain, Monaco,
Italy, Yugoslavia [Slovenia, Croatia, Bosnia, Serbia, Montenegro, Kosovo,
Macedonia], Greece, Bulgaria, Turkey, Hungary, Austria, Switzerland, Germany
[East Germany was transited], Netherlands, Belgium, Luxemburg, Denmark, Sweden,
Norway, United Kingdom ...
1975 Italy, Zambia, Tanzania ...
1976 Zambia, Malawi, Kenya …
1977 New Zealand ...
1979 United Kingdom, France,
Switzerland, Italy, Austria, Germany …
1985 Singapore, India, Indonesia ...
1987 Indonesia* ...
1988 USA, United Kingdom, France,
Netherlands, India ...
1993 Thailand*, Philippines*,
Indonesia* …
1996 Greece, United Kingdom, Italy,
Israel, Egypt ...
1999 China, Spain, United Kingdom,
Italy ...
2001-2002 USA, Peru*, Chile*, Brazil*,
United Kingdom, South Africa, Zimbabwe ...
2003 New Zealand ...
2004 Timor Leste* ...
2004 Cambodia*, Thailand*, Singapore,
Malaysia ...
2005 Thailand*, Indonesia* ...
2005 Sri Lanka*, India* ...
2006 Japan, United Kingdom, Ireland,
Thailand ...
2007 Singapore*, India* ... 2007
Solomon Islands* ...
2007 United Arab Emirates*, Oman*,
India* ...
2008 Kiribati*, Fiji ...
2009 India*, United Arab Emirates*,
Singapore* ...
2009 Philippines* … 2009 Papua New
Guinea* ...
2010 Papua New Guinea* ...
2010 New Zealand ...
2011 Cook Islands* ...
2011 New Zealand ...
2011 Thailand, Laos, Viet Nam ...
2012 Cook Islands* ...
2012 Solomon Islands* ...
2013 Papua New Guinea* ...
2013 Solomon Islands* ...
2013 United Arab Emirates, Czech
Republic, Hungary, Slovakia, Germany, Netherlands, United Kingdom ...
2014 Tonga* ...
2014 Philippines* ...
2015 New Caledonia ...
2015 Papua New Guinea* ...
2015 USA (Hawaii), Canada, USA ...
2015 Myanmar*, India* ...
2016 Fiji* ...
2016 China, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan,
Uzbekistan, South Korea ...
2016 Papua New Guinea* ...
2017 Solomon Islands* ...
2017 China, Russia, Estonia, Latvia,
Lithuania, Poland, Czech Republic, United Kingdom, Greece ...
2018 Papua New Guinea* ...
2018 Vanuatu* ...
2019 Mozambique, South Africa,
Namibia, Botswana, Zimbabwe, Zambia …
2020 Papua New Guinea*
Appendix 2 – Australian Demographics, Finances and Politics
Following is a very simplified
observation of Australia’s post-1945 economic history, which has formed the
basis of some of the comments made in this book.
The 1950’s
and 1960’s had been a period of stability and growth in Australia, as
conservative governments (coalition of Liberal and Country [National] Parties)
reaped the benefit of post-war booms, generated by global demand for pastoral,
agricultural and mining products, and steady immigration.
This
increased wealth fostered over-confidence and complacency. During the forties,
fifties and sixties, Australia had manufactured cars, aeroplanes, ships, heavy
equipment, radios, televisions, electrical goods, household white goods,
clothing, specialized building materials and many others. By the 2020’s,
Australia manufactured few of these!!!
The
Australian people, led by successive conservative governments, failed to
anticipate or prepare for changing world trade patterns. The “protection versus
free trade” arguments of the previous century resurfaced, under the guise of
“wet” versus “dry” economics. But both these extremes of economic ideology fail
to recognize the need for nuanced moderate economic management. During the following half century, “free
trade” killed “protection”, “dry” desiccated “wet”, and Australia lost its
manufacturing ability.
In 2022, Australia’s population is
just over 26 million, that is 0.33% (1 / 306) of the world population, 55th
country in world population ranking. We have a land area of 7,782,300 km2,
a density of only 3.3 people/km2, 86% of whom are urban dwellers
with a median age of 37.5 years [lxi]
… in other words, very few people in a lot of space. In 1921, the Australian
fertility rate[26]
had been 3.1, falling during the depression of the 1930s to 2.1 but rising
rapidly to a post-war baby-boomer peak of 3.5 around 1960. It then fell
steadily during the economically difficult times of the 1970s to 1.9 and is now
gradually diminishing to 1.77 in 2018.
Many developed countries are now
experiencing chronic shortages of people of working age, and similarly
Australia has to rely on a steady flow of immigrants to keep a buoyant economy
and a reasonable standard of living. At the current rate of growth (fertility
plus immigration) it is likely that Australia’s population will be around 40
million within 60 years, that is within two generations. Given that most
migration to Australia is now from Asia, and the fertility rate of European
Australians is less than 2 (well below stable), it is reasonable to postulate
that the population of Australia in 2082 will be at least 50% of Asian
heritage. Even so, Australia’s share of world population will remain miniscule.
The 2022 world population of 7.8 billion is currently growing at 83 million per
year, that is more than three times Australia’s whole population is added every
year. Australia has extremely low population, low fertility rate, a very
expansive under-developed interior and a commodity-based economy (now notably
controlled by highly industrialized countries which have high populations and
not much land).
Appendix 3 – Author’s Notes, Acknowledgements and References
In “Part 1 – Aurora, Bukhara, Crux”,
the diarist, his family and their narrative are fictional; and any resemblance
to real persons is entirely coincidental and unintentional. However, the
principal historical events, and historical characters described therein
(around which the fictional narrative is woven), are actual events and real
people. The ships, together with their stated service and named crew members
are real and the consistent with historical records. So too are the
descriptions of the conflicts and wars described therein.
“Part 2 – Desiderata” is an autobiographical
travel memoir, and is intended to reproduce real events as they actually
occurred, without exaggeration or distortion. It contains no fiction.
The author acknowledges that, where
practical, and as a sign of respect, writing should use local spelling and
pronunciation of place names. However, because this narrative is intended to be
read by English speakers, who are mostly unfamiliar with the region and
cultures, the spelling and pronunciation adopted herein is generally that which
would be most familiar to the reader.
The following
references have been used in the preparation of the non-fiction parts of this
book, particularly in the preparation of “Part 2 – Desiderata”. The author
acknowledges material drawn from other books and Internet websites.
In particular, wide use is made of Wikipedia … This is a fantastic resource for
any traveller and historian.
[1] Robyn has travelled
a little less, visiting 68 countries on five continents, living on three of
them.
[2] Caravels were
small sea-going fighting and trading ships developed in about 1451, and in use
by Portuguese explorers and traders from the mid fifteenth century to the early
seventeenth century.
[3]
Although religious practice is tolerated, the government of the People's
Republic of China does not formally endorse or support any religions.
[4]
See Holy Bible, Matthew Chapter 20 Verses 1 to 16.
[5]
At a sheer 235 metre drop, the Kalambo Falls are amongst the highest in Africa.
[6]
Operation Gatling did not prevent a recurrence of targeting civilian plans. On
12 February 1979, a second civilian plane was shot down near Kariba killing all
fifty-nine on board.
[7]
Gelibolu
[8] United States President Lyndon Baines Johnson
[9]
Lieutenant (later Major) Harold Jesser of the Papua Infantry Brigade (the Green
Shadows) reconnoitred the Kokoda Track in January 1942, and then subsequently
led the PIB A Company behind the Japanese Lines as the main Australian army
forces advanced up the Kokoda Track several months later from June 1942
onwards.
[10]
Great Game was the name used by Rudyard Kipling in his novel Kim (1901), for
the rivalry between Britain and Russia in Central Asia in the late 19th
century.
[11]
Prior to 2005, Partner Housing Australasia (Building) Incorporated had traded
as Habitat for Humanity Western Sydney Inc. As an independent NGO from 2005
onwards, Partner Housing Australasia concentrated on providing probono services,
funding and technical support for village buildings, water and sanitation in
Asia-Pacific villages.
[12]
From 2001 to 2005, I was President of Habitat for Humanity Western Sydney, and
for most of that time, I was also a national board member Habit for Humanity
Australia. From 2005 to the present, I have served as the President / CEO /
Public Officer of Partner Housing Australasia (Building) Incorporated. Robyn
has been a Board Director continuously since 2003.
[13]
The declining population and infrastructure in Mangaia (A'ua'u Enua), the most
southerly and remote of the Cook Islands, provides a striking contrast with the
burgeoning population and strong social cohesion in the Papua New Guinea
Highlands.
[14]
Office for Democratic Institutions and Human Rights
[15]
Other terrorism encounters included Belfast during the 1974 “Troubles”,
Trincomalee (eastern Sri Lanka) during the 2005 Tamil Tiger insurgency and 1975
on the guerrilla occupied Zambia-Northern Rhodesia (Zimbabwe) border.
[16]
First Opium War waged by the British against the Qing Chinese government, to
force the Chinese to import British controlled opium.
[17]
First Anglo-Afghan War
[18] Historians consider that the Great Game
formally ended on 10 September 1895 with the signing of the Pamir Boundary Commission protocols, when
the border between Afghanistan and the Russian empire was defined.
[19]
From the perspective of the Russians and the USSR republics, the Second World
War commenced in 1941, when Germany violated the Molotov-Ribbentrop
non-aggression pact, by launching Operation Barbarossa. From the perspective of
the American and the Japanese also, the Second World War commenced in 1941,
with the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbour and other American Pacific bases.
[20]
The Cyrillic acronym (in use in Russia) for the political union known in
English as the USSR, Soviet Union or Union of Soviet Socialist Republics is CCCP
(Союз Советских Социалистических Республик).
[21]
Also known at various times as Leningrad and Petrograd.
[22]
The Cheka was a Soviet government
organisation charged with investigating alleged counter-revolutionary
activities.
[23]
Kokand is in the Fergana Valley, eastern Uzbekistan close to Kyrgyzstan.
[24]
The author (Rod) has visited 82 countries and his wife (Robyn) has visited 68
countries.
[25]
Excludes Antarctica.
[26]
Crude fertility rate is the number of live births per 1,000 women in the
population. General fertility rate is the number of live births per 1,000 women
aged 15 to 44 years in the population. If the fertility rate falls below 2, the
population is not replacing itself. If a species suffers a fertility rate below
2 over a long period, it is at risk of eventually becoming extinct.
[ii] http://www.teamuse.com/article_010502.html Pratt, J.N.
[vi] Frankopan, P.,
“The Silk Roads – A New History of the World”, Bloomsbury, 2015
[vii] Oresman, M.,
“Assessing China’s Reaction to Kyrgystan’s ‘Tulip Revolution’ ”, Analytical
Articles, 2005 https://www.bing.com/search?q=tulip+revolution+uyghur&FORM=EDGENN
[viii] Barber, E.W.,
The Mummies of Urumchi, Macmillan, 1999
[ix] McEvedy, C., The
New Penguin Atlas of Ancient History, Penguin Travel Diaries, Second edition
2002
[xi] https://www.lusakatimes.com/2015/11/10/in-the-kitchen-with-kanta-nshima-kapenta-roasted-chicken-and-cabbage/
[xiii] Ferguson, N.
“Empire: How Britain made the modern world”, Penguin Books, 2003
[xvi]https://www.bing.com/videos/search?q=green+leader+raud+utube&docid=607991039932105230&mid=43F354237017D0BCD93043F354237017D0BCD930&view=detail&FORM=VIRE
[xx] http://www.marxist.com/portugal-40o-aniversario-de-la-revolucion-de-los-claveles-cuando-los-trabajadores-tocaron-el-poder-con-las-manos-en.htm
[xxiii] Carlyon, L. “Gallipoli”,
Pan Macmillan Australia Pty Limited, Sydney, 2001
[xxiv]
Stanley, P., “Lost Boys of Anzac”, University of New South Wales Press,
Sydney, 2014
[xxvii] https://en.wikipedia.org/?url=https%3A%2F%2Fen.wikipedia.org%2Fwiki%2FPapuan_Infantry_Battalion
[xxxvii] Diamond, J.
“Collapse – Hoe societies choose to fail or survive”, Allen Laine – Penguin
Books, 2005
[xlvi] https://www.theguardian.com/world/2016/dec/05/uzbekistan-elects-shavkat-mirziyoyev-president-islam-karimov
[xlvii] Frankopan, P.,
“The Silk Roads – A New History of the World”, Bloomsbury, 2015
