In March 2003 an investigator revealed the Sydney based local Aboriginal land council was bordering on mismanagement and it faced the risk of losing its land bank which had been built up through years of government grants. He concluded that this Aboriginal land council’s ‘adherence to standard corporate governance procedures was almost non-existent’ (Robert Jackson, cited in Jopson 2003a). It would appear that responsible fiduciary management was not evident.

Just prior to this investigation, this Aboriginal land council had sold five parcels of land, which collectively were valued conservatively at over $13 million. They were located at Belrose, Terry Hills, Frenchs Forest and Asquith. All of this land lies within Guringah language borders. So too do the following properties that they allegedly hold (if they have not already sold them):

When Sydney Morning Herald reporter Debra Jopson interviewed the former chairperson of this Aboriginal land council, she was advised the land sales were necessary to ensure the economic self-sufficiency of the council, as it was land-rich but cash-poor (2003b). In other words, land had to be sold to keep the body financial. For all accounts and purposes, this appears to be an unfinancial organisation with almost non-existent corporate governance procedures (Jopson 2003a). The sale of Aboriginal land goes against the very ethos of Aboriginal peoples’ struggle since colonisation, which is the fight to preserve and maintain Aboriginal land.

The investigator also noted the cash blowouts in this council’s current expenditure. For example, their forward commitments at the time were budgeted at approximately $2.5–$2.8 million. There was however, only $2.4 million in the term deposit account, which was supposed to earn sufficient interest to fund running costs. The council would therefore have to withdraw its term deposit to fund these running costs. This would then deprive it of future interest and result in still further land sales to enable the ongoing life of the organisation (Jopson 2003a).

It seems the council will have to continue to sell land to fund the administration of this organisation. This raises important questions. Firstly, where is the money going? Secondly, what are the details of the successful projects this organisation espouses? Thirdly, how long will this be allowed to continue?

The land bank is limited. The cultural heritage landscapes that the Aboriginal land councils are selling are irreplaceable. Yet land councils continue to sell land to meet operational expenses.

These land sales are being carried out with total disregard for the spiritual/cultural importance of this land to local Aboriginal people and traditional ‘owners’/custodians. There is no consultation; the land is being treated like a common chattel. It is being sold with contempt for the traditional Indigenous belief that we do not own the land, the land owns us. We ask, how can they be permitted to continue to sell off our Mother earth?

If Guringah people went to Cowra, Dubbo or Moree and began to sell land there in much the same way as the executive of the Sydney-based land council is doing, there would be a major outcry. Yet in Sydney the usurpers have successfully stifled the voice of the traditional ‘owners’/custodians. It is important to understand how they have managed to achieve this.

The Aboriginal land council executive have declared that the local traditional ‘owners’ are extinct and have disseminated this mistruth through their extensive networks within the New South Wales National Parks and Wildlife Service, Local Government Councils situated on Guringah lands, and various other government departments and agencies. This is, however, in sharp contradiction to their public relations material. For example, one public notice makes the claim that ‘contrary to white propaganda the original inhabitants, the Eora people, were not wiped out after the European invasion’ (Madden 2000). Yet a letter from their former Chairperson dated 18 March 2003 addressed to the General Manager and Mayor of the North Sydney Council, and copied to eight other local government councils (Lane Cove, Hornsby, Kuring-gai, Willoughby, Mosman, Manly, Warringah and Pittwater Councils) declared it was ‘unaware of any traditional owners of the North Shore Peninsula’. This is incorrect, for a simple membership check of the Registrar of Aboriginal Corporations ICN 4270 reveals Guringai Tribal Link Aboriginal Corporation incorporated on 11 August 2003. Their list of members are Guringai people (other spelling Guringah) or they identify as descendents of Guringah people. The claim of the Aboriginal land council in question, as to the existence or non-existence or traditional owners is unfounded and misleading to the public.

This same Sydney Aboriginal land council had previously communicated with the writer on the basis that I was then recognised as a traditional custodian. Ironically, the State’s Governor General, Attorney General and Minister for National Parks and Wildlife, and the Royal Society for the Arts all formally acknowledge the writer as a member of the Guringah people. So likewise do countless numbers of professional people, organisations, Indigenous groups and other individuals. The local Aboriginal land council, however, continues to state it is unaware of any traditional owners when it is convenient for them to do so.

Its actions in managing the recent burial of human remains on North Head on March 4, 2005 typifies the land council’s contempt towards Aboriginal people outside of its own circle of direct influence. The media and a select group of Aboriginal people were advised when and where the burial was to occur, and invited to attend. The Indigenous heritage staff of the overseeing government department omitted to invite the local Aboriginal community or relatives of the deceased. No Guringah persons were invited despite numerous telephone calls to the New South Wales National Parks and Wildlife office and the Australian Museum staff by the writer. It is difficult to explain the pain of being deliberately excluded from the interment of your own ancestors; yet a further example of usurping.

These mixed public messages, questioning of Aboriginality and in some cases the denying of it without investigation or proof, in addition to limited membership and somewhat questionable management practices is a moral concern. In May 2004, the former NSW Minister for Aboriginal Affairs, Dr Andrew Refshauge, released a media statement that both admitted the NSW Aboriginal land council system was ‘clearly not working well enough’ and announced the establishment of a special taskforce to overhaul the system and fix fundamental problems (Refshauge 2004). Two issues papers have since been prepared by this taskforce. They go some way towards suggesting land councils have been given too loose a rein in the desecration of Indigenous cultural heritage through the sale of coastal ancestral lands to developers (NSW Aboriginal Land Rights Act Review Task Force 2005a, 2005b).

The control and power systems that the Aboriginal land councils enforce also have a direct influence on the cultural heritage industry, which needs to be reviewed, and a system of professional accreditation implemented. Presently qualifications and regulation is blurred as political correctness has reduced any form of questioning if a person of Indigenous heritage has the right to adopt/create or steal knowledge of an area and disseminate it. This problem was summed up by the well-known Indigenous businessman, Mr John Moriarty who at the time of writing is also a member of the National Indigenous Council. Mr Moriarty told me directly he was concerned with the ‘re-invention of Aboriginal knowledge’ by Indigenous people who were not from Sydney who were developing their own agendas.^[8] It is important that only people of a professional, accredited standard be appointed as Cultural Heritage Officers. The ability to communicate the holistic knowledge and the cultural intricacies of particular lands calls for much more than just Aboriginal descent.

The legal implication regarding cultural heritage management entrusted to Aboriginal Land Councils who are usurping the resources of the traditional custodians is a concern if it affects Native Title decisions. If we review the Native Title Cases of Gale ^[9] (2004 FCA 374) and Yorta Yorta ^[10] (2002 194 ALR 534) the concept of what is tradition; (and it could be argued cultural heritage from the traditional custodian’s perspective) reflects the fundamental nature of native title rights and interests. In many cases claimants will invite the Court to infer from evidence in the trial as to the content of traditional law and custom (s. 233 Yorta Yorta 2002). If usurping Aboriginal land councils have the legal position within NSW to dominate cultural heritage management practices then we are already experiencing a manifestation in the ‘creation of culture’ to earn income from property developers, the tourism industry and so on. This purported creation of culture by unsuitably qualified cultural heritage management staff will ensure conflicting information for the legal and anthropological professions to interpret and appraise. The ‘re-invention of Aboriginal knowledge’ (Moriarty 2005) by Indigenous people who were not from Sydney who were developing their own agendas has the potential to distort or confuse at the very least, knowledge for the Native Title Courts.