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Last Updated: November 1, 2009
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Interview with Joan Coxsedge
4,000 words

'We must continue working for a better world. I want my grandchildren to live in a society with a spirit of independence, a society that puts people before profits and looks after the environment'

I grew up in a working-class family. It wasn't a particularly happy household, because I had a father who drank - many of us have fathers who drank.

He was very unreliable. Great with his mates but not so flash as a husband and father. In a funny way, his aberrant behaviour influenced my recognition of how tough women could be.

My mother had to go out and get a job when most mothers didn't and my grandmother also managed her life really well, so I lived among strong women and I believe it's something that gets inside your skin. We had very little money, so I had to make do with whatever was at hand.

I think I must have been born with a pencil in my hand, I had such a love of drawing and making things. I also took a great delight in reading and could lose myself in books. I was a restless child, not naughty, but certainly not placid, and was always doing something that got me into trouble.

When I entered secondary school, my close friend and I were often in strife. High-spirited stuff - playing hockey in the corridor and breaking a window, going crook at the tuck shop for overcharging - that sort of stuff.

I was on the Students Representative Council in High School, so there must have been something going on, but it wasn't until I was married with three young children that I became more overtly political.

50 years ago, we bought a block of land in an area amongst old orchards that was totally undeveloped - a brand-new residential area with a brand-new school. We were told we had free education, but I was disgusted to discover there was nothing free about the school at all. Parents even had to pay for pens and paper for the headmaster. It seemed very wrong to me.

Clearly, I was becoming politicized. And then there was the Vietnam War, which accelerated the process. I was so angry at our involvement in this US war and so outraged at what we were doing to the Vietnamese - at the napalm and defoliants they were raining down, not only on defenceless people, but against the earth itself. I thought it was obscene and revolting.

It was an assault on life, so although I am not a great joiner - I don't particularly like meetings - I ended up joining and becoming active in the anti-war movement and the Labor Party. I read everything I could lay my hands on, which made me even more angry as I learned about the lies that were used to justify the war - like in Iraq - and developed a profound dislike of US foreign policy, which I still have.

At that stage I was painting and exhibiting reasonably successfully, which I was thoroughly enjoying, but felt I couldn't carry on and ignore the destruction being perpetrated in my name. I packed away my easel and oil paints and went back to drawing, spending time in Melbourne's inner suburbs, drawing old houses and streetscapes, a good mix with what I was doing politically.

The Vietnam War taught us many things. As a protester, it taught us how to suss out the facts, marshal them in a coherent way and persuasively argue a case. I lived in a very conservative area where people had a tendency to cross over to the other side of the street when they saw me coming.

At that time I was in and out of gaol and prominently named in the newspapers as a result of various protest actions, so you can imagine how they loved me! It was therefore important to know what you were talking about. An excellent way to improve writing and public speaking skills, although I was always nervous talking at large public meetings and rallies, but when you talk about things that really matter, you usually manage to put butterflies to flight.

I joined the Labor Party. Back then, the Victorian Branch had a very progressive agenda, although all of that hit the wall in 1970 when the branch was federally intervened on. The Whitlamites believed the Victorian mob was too left-wing and might jeopardise their chances of being elected - when everyone knew after 23 years of Liberal (mis)rule, labor was a shoe-in regardless of what we were doing - but the feds didn't want any radicals hanging around to embarrass them, so in 1970 they sacked the entire branch.

The Federal Executive closed down the state office and handed power to a group of opportunists and shysters, although there was still a significant element of rank and file members angry about what had happened, determined to build something out of the fiasco.

These members formed the Socialist Left. Many women joined in - like Edith Morgan, who joined the Victorian ALP because of its progressive ideology - and others who saw that we were under siege and needed all the support we could get. During those early years, we didn't see that bumping people into parliament was the be-all and end-all of our existence, but that promoting socialist policy should be our main aim. And so, from the word go, I immersed myself in policy-making - Civil Rights, Anti-Uranium (where we did excellent work) and in 1974, became the first president of the Status of Women Committee, an office I held for many years.

We brought down excellent recommendations, very progressive stuff on a range of women's rights, including the decriminalization of prostitution and the fundamental right of women to contraception and abortion - a hot potato back then which has never gone away. Inevitably, we were attacked by the media, which was shockingly biased (like it is now), coming in with guns blazing against anyone even vaguely left-wing.

I was often the bunny, having to present our reports to state conferences, when male delegates would lick their macho chops (not all of them, I hasten to add) waiting for the girls, the sheilas, to come on. They would stand around the edges of the hall drinking cups of coffee, having a giggle at our expense.

It was an unsettling environment, to say the least, standing up in front of 350 delegates. I would take a deep breath and go for my life. Anything with a sexual connotation meant a full house. Some of the blokes should have been in the DLP (Democratic Labor Party), their views were so reactionary and anti-female. In 1973, I stood as a Labor candidate for Balwyn - the safest Liberal seat in the state - and a close friend became my campaign manager.

We ran a socialist/feminist campaign and I got national coverage due to my outspoken support for a woman's right to a free, safe abortion. The issue was prominently displayed on my main campaign leaflet, guaranteeing attention from the Right to Life organisation, which set up stalls outside some polling booths on election day itself, creating a few scuffles.

At one booth, police were summoned! In typical form, Marg and I organised a range of stunts to get our message across and had a ball, with lots of laughs. We stuck posters all over the electorate and one night got sprung by the cops!

For my campaign launch, we hired the Balwyn Cinema and showed the magnificent film, Sacco and Vanzetti. A full house, when Labor's leading lights turned up at my opening to give support (and to be seen) - Jim Cairns, Tom Uren, Moss Cass, George Crawford.

At the same time - as an additional fund-raiser - I exhibited some of my pen and wash drawings in the front section of the theatre. I also raised opposition to freeways, demanding support for more public transport (we're still waiting), public health, public education etc., all issues that are relevant today.

Being 'the candidate' gave me a platform and the fact that I was standing for office in Menzies/Peacock territory and only got 28% support in certain parts of the electorate didn't seem to matter. I was good copy.

It's a different story today with a more buttoned-up manipulative media, although I still firmly believe that you have to speak up for what you believe in and say it out loud - with passion - to put your case every chance you get, no matter how small your audience. If you say things people don't like, so what? They might get off their bums and respond, thereby creating a debate.

The worst thing, the very worst thing that can happen to a society is silence. A killer of democracy.

Which is precisely what is happening in this country right now. A deathly silence hangs over vital issues which should be shouted from the rooftops - our ongoing grovel to Washington hanging like an albatross around our collective neck, and our abysmal failure to protect the environment and public institutions are a few that spring to mind.

I reckon that powerful media moguls and the security establishment (who warble from the same song sheet) learned a hell of a lot during the Vietnam War. They learned how to 'manage' dissent; how to cut us down and ignore us as if we weren't there. Not as savage as the treatment meted out to the 'disappeared' in Latin America, but the intent was the same. We are being 'disappeared' in a media blackout to deny us the oxygen of publicity.

My Balwyn election campaign coincided with a far more important political initiative when a few of us from the anti-war movement who had suffered at the hands of the snoops kicked off the Committee for the Abolition of Political Police (CAPP). In March 1973, our small group started campaigning outside ASIO's former HQ in St Kilda Road, by photographing the snoops as they went in and out of the building.

Over a period of time, by devious means, we found out who they were and where they lived. I remember putting out our first ASIO recruiting poster with three names and addresses, with a general appeal to readers to contact the trio if they wanted to join, but we always backed up our stunts with hard information and argument.

Although we managed to get quite a lot of publicity for our stunts, we rarely did for our serious stuff. In 1974, we published a couple of booklets and God knows how many pamphlets and letters giving details about our spy agencies - who they were and who they were working for - and putting the abolition case.

I find it rather ironic that we were publishing material about these unknown secret agencies and secret treaties more than 30 years ago, raising issues that are still unresolved, and yet media commentators behave as if this information is new and fresh and has just come to light. A question for those who believe we live in a democracy.

If you have secret (and therefore unaccountable) agencies which hugely influence what goes on in our foreign and domestic affairs without anyone knowing who they are or what they do, how does that square with democratic ideals? Which was why we decided to pull all our material together in a book 'Rooted in Secrecy', which came out in 1982 and is still selling because the arguments we raise are fundamental and even more relevant today. We certainly managed to raise the hackles of the secret agency brigade.

We were continually attacked by these characters via letters and articles as being in the pay of Moscow and working for the KGB, when in reality we were against all secret agencies everywhere, which we reckoned represented the greatest threat to basic freedoms.The problem was we were ahead of our time.

In the late 1970s, the party asked me to stand for a safe Labor seat in the State Parliament. I didn't think I had a dog's chance of winning the pre-selection battle, but I scraped in by one or two votes. Mayhem erupted and I faced an extremely dirty campaign, both inside and outside the party, which had more to do with my 'extreme' views than anything else. A 'maddie'.

The same labels are used in England against people like Tony Benn, a friend of mine. It is fascinating watching this internationalisation of insults. But then, Tony gets a lot of positive coverage that we don't get. We hear from the same narrow little group of 'moderates' and academics, never the activists.

One of the most interesting gatherings I attended was the week-long 'Women and Politics' conference in Canberra in September 1975 during the UN Decade for Women, just a few months before Whitlam was tossed out. I went along as the official Victorian ALP delegate - rather reluctantly at first - but loved every minute of it. There were overseas speakers, plenary sessions and workshops and a deal of stimulating discussion.

If Whitlam had hoped for a nice controlled 'ladylike' assemblage, he would have been bitterly disappointed. Enough female stirrers rolled up from around Australia to balance the numbers of Liberals, Christians and non-boat-rocking 'party' types to guarantee the very opposite. It was an amazing week. I gave a workshop, but there were so many workshops, it was impossible to keep up with the flow.

I vividly remember the words of a Canadian MP, who articulated the fundamental dilemma faced by feminists (and socialists). How far do we immerse ourselves in the structures of the state without being swallowed up whole? A question that has never been resolved. I believe in the Marxist theory of writing and action. That out of action comes learning. Sitting in an ivory tower reading and regurgitating other people's writings doesn't make you an 'expert' - which is what happens now - with academics pontificating on everything. Far better to get out and get involved. Which is what we did against our snoops and learned so much about our society.

Being in gaol is another great little learner! It's where you see our class system unadorned, without the bells and whistles. You could say that out of little nuts come many oak trees, if not always what you expect. For instance, when you develop a basic understanding of the ways of the world, you can't undo that knowledge and not understand, to return to blissful ignorance.

I question everything and believe nothing, until I've had a damn good dig around. How much easier to swan around shop, shop, shopping until you drop, or going to the footie. A luxury we can't afford.

One of the most interesting gatherings I attended was the week-long 'Women and Politics' conference in Canberra in September 1975 during the UN Decade for Women, just a few months before Whitlam was tossed out. I went along as the official Victorian ALP delegate - rather reluctantly at first - but loved every minute of it. There were overseas speakers, plenary sessions and workshops and a deal of stimulating discussion.

If Whitlam had hoped for a nice controlled 'ladylike' assemblage, he would have been bitterly disappointed. Enough female stirrers rolled up from around Australia to balance the numbers of Liberals, Christians and non-boat-rocking 'party' types to guarantee the very opposite. It was an amazing week. I gave a workshop, but there were so many workshops, it was impossible to keep up with the flow.

I vividly remember the words of a Canadian MP, who articulated the fundamental dilemma faced by feminists (and socialists). How far do we immerse ourselves in the structures of the state without being swallowed up whole? A question that has never been resolved. I believe in the Marxist theory of writing and action. That out of action comes learning. Sitting in an ivory tower reading and regurgitating other people's writings doesn't make you an 'expert' - which is what happens now - with academics pontificating on everything. Far better to get out and get involved. Which is what we did against our snoops and learned so much about our society.

Being in gaol is another great little learner! It's where you see our class system unadorned, without the bells and whistles. You could say that out of little nuts come many oak trees, if not always what you expect. For instance, when you develop a basic understanding of the ways of the world, you can't undo that knowledge and not understand, to return to blissful ignorance.

I question everything and believe nothing, until I've had a damn good dig around. How much easier to swan around shop, shop, shopping until you drop, or going to the footie. A luxury we can't afford.

Which is why we devoted an entire chapter to his 'dismissal' in 'Rooted in Secrecy', detailing what actually happened during that time, providing interesting insights into the way our secret unelected government works.

Chile suffered a bloody assault and straight-out coup d'etat when the US faced a progressive leader it hated, whereas in Australia the same reactionary forces used obscure laws and CIA figures in high places to get rid of Whitlam - with the help of our media. Murdoch led the pack (he helped put Whitlam there in the first place) - to ensure Labor lost the election. A leopard doesn't change its spots.

A British survey showed that every Murdoch newspaper around the world - with one exception - supports America's war in Iraq and Israel's brutality towards the Palestinians. Look at the way our elections are covered. Bullshit unlimited with important concerns brushed aside.

For the 25 years I was an ALP member, I was reasonably effective for the first 15 years. After that it was a downhill run, particularly towards the end of my parliamentary term when I publicly criticised the party's increasingly right-wing direction and ran foul of the power-brokers. I concentrated on looking after people in my electorate, and used my office as a resource centre.

When I retired from parliament I quietly dropped out of the ALP altogether, because I couldn't see any point in staying in a party where deals were struck in advance before policy had a chance of being openly debated. National Conferences- the supreme policy-making body - are classic examples of media-hyped, manipulated PR stunts. Mere charades.

Many former members feel the same way. Our only hope now is to have people in the senate who will try and stop the worst excesses going on in the House of Representatives.

There is still the problem of Labor's hand-holding with the Liberals to support bad legislation. Since 9/11, 14 'security' bills have been passed (with labor's help) taking away our fundamental rights, with barely a squeak from our media, leaving people ignorant and uninvolved. A similar situation with the US Free Trade nightmare.

One day, Australians will wake up and find they haven't got any freedoms. Will they care? In Nazi Germany, people went on their way while people were shovelled into concentration camps. Guantanamo bay is a concentration camp, a torture centre, just one of many run by 'our' side. If our US allies can indiscriminately pluck people from their countries - as they continue to do - and then have the gall to say 'If they're found to be innocent, we won't release them', where are we heading? If that's not a fascist philosophy, then I'm hoot the flute.

In our troubled world, there must be a place for unstructured groups such as the Committee for the Abolition of Political Police. Despite our size, we managed to get under the skin of very powerful bodies, using ridicule and a sort of organised anarchy. We were small and flexible and able to act quickly with people we trusted. We didn't have to go through endless meetings, but went bingo!

We certainly took risks. After all, we weren't taking on a mother's club, but were still able to generate laughs against decidedly unfunny people. So perhaps activists should start working in less hierarchical ways.

It helps if you have good connections. We had strong links with trade unions and other activists, giving us the opportunity to distribute information to a much wider range of people. For many years, I managed to persuade the Victorian ALP to have the abolition of ASIO and Special Branch as its official policy. I would argue against 'reformers' like Gareth Evans and win out, because I put arguments that members understood.

The 1980s was the era of women's peace camps and I was very privileged to take part in three of them. The Women for Survival Peace Camp took place in 1983 outside the gates of Pine Gap near Alice Springs to draw attention to the presence of this very secretive electronic surveillance base which is run by and for the United States. Part of a global network, it sucks up information like a giant vacuum cleaner and operates completely outside normal governmental and legal constraints.

The camp lasted for a week and was creative and colourful and full of determined women prepared to have a go. I would have dearly liked to stay longer but had to return to Victoria to take part in an 'Equal Opportunity' debate!

Earlier in that same year, when I was in Washington DC visiting some anti-snooping comrades in CounterSpy, I was invited to join a weekend of protest at a women's peace camp at Seneca Falls in New York State. The governor had declared a 'state of emergency' and called out the national Guard, so I saw the US security state at first hand and it wasn't a pretty picture.

The following year, I went to Greenham Common, the famous Women's Peace Encampment. In 1981, a group of gutsy women had marched from Cardiff to this US cruise missile base in Berkshire and set up a permanent presence around its edge, quickly becoming a symbol for peace activists around the world. Greenham Common was non-hierarchical and and had no traditional structures.

There were various gates around the perimeter named after the colours of the rainbow, each with its own political flavour, allowing women to join the grouping of their choice. I took along a swag of food and ciggies and a great deal of admiration for their incredible courage. Apart from police brutality and cruel harassment from local yobs, the weather conditions were often horrendous. And yet, these women, ordinary mortals like us, stayed there for years.

Whatever happens, like the women of Greenham Common, we must continue working for a better world. I want my grandchildren to live in a society that has a spirit of independence, that puts people before profits and looks after the environment.