One death too many
29.11.2004

residents of Palm Island, off Queensland, believe they have received rough justice for too long, writes Tony Koch

IN the headlights of our car was a familiar-looking woman who was frantically waving us down in the darkened backstreet of the foothills that form the spine of Palm Island.
She was agitated and anxious to know if the photographer and I were media representatives.
Local elder Renata Pryor revealed her identity and explained in a panicked voice that police in riot armour and carrying semi-automatic rifles were near her home searching for her son, William Blackman, to arrest him for his alleged part in the riot that tore Palm Island apart the previous day.
``I want you to come with me and we will get him to come down out of the hills, but I am afraid the police will shoot him,'' she said, clutching my arm. ``He's on a list the police are taking around. If I can get him to surrender I want you to photograph him so it is clear he is not injured when he goes in and I want you with us so he is not shot. I want to tell these police that we will bring him in in the morning so long as they stop hassling us tonight.''
It took several hours of calling, whistling and driving around secret hiding places before William materialised, rather sheepishly, from the darkness. He spoke with his mother and several men and it was agreed that, even though it was past midnight, he would present to the police who had converted the State school into headquarters and sleeping barracks housing the 80 officers who had been sent to the island after the riot.
So we checked him out for bruises and abrasions, photographed him and drove to the makeshift police station. William went in quite cheerfully, expecting to have a talk and go back home to his wife and children. He refused to supply a signed statement, so he was then charged with ``riotous behaviour'', handcuffed, placed in the back of a paddy wagon and driven to the airport to be taken to the mainland and held in Townsville watch-house.
Summary justice. He was told ``a dozen or so people had said he was in the riots''. No admissions, no statement, no legal representative on the island, so a convenient ``holding'' charge gets this suspected villain off the island.
It came as no surprise. This island -- easily the most picturesque off the Queensland coast -- has been turned upside down.
It is incredible to see tactical response police in full gear -- riot shields, balaclavas and helmets with face-masks, Glock pistol at the hip and a shotgun or semi-automatic rifle in their right hand -- walking the streets and arresting unarmed and unresisting Aborigines.
Police commissioner Bob Atkinson and Premier Peter Beattie emphasise how ``totally unacceptable'' it is for riots to occur, for public buildings and cars to be burnt, petrol bombs to be thrown and for police under siege to be genuinely in fear of their lives. That is inarguable. But it totally misses the real point. The people rioted because there was a week of public meetings following the death of local Cameron Doomadgee, 36, who was found dead in a police cell on the island at 11.20am on Friday, November 19 -- an hour after he had been locked up for ``causing a public nuisance''.
Palm Islanders will not accept that Cameron died by accident or, as they are being asked to believe, that the four broken ribs and a punctured liver and spleen occurred as the result of a fall while scuffling with a police officer at the watch-house. They know that he was walking along the street, drunk and singing, and an hour later he was dead with the internal injuries.
Two Aboriginal men who were in the cells at the time have given statements that they saw him being punched and beaten by Chris Hurley, a senior sergeant. Hurley was removed from the island last Tuesday for his own protection. The interim autopsy report stated ``there was no evidence to suggest'' his injuries had ``resulted from a direct use of force''.
``Rather, the forensic pathologist is of the opinion that they are consistent with the deceased and the policeman, with whom he was known to have been struggling, falling on to a hard surface such as the steps outside the watch-house,'' the autopsy report said.
Queensland coroner Michael Barnes said the autopsy report was ``far too sensitive and private'' to be publicly released, and that a more formal inquest into the matter would be convened ``as soon as all necessary investigative steps have been completed''.
Queensland police commissioner Bob Atkinson, who flew to Townsville on Friday to take command of the operation, said ``there was no doubt that the person who died was injured as a result of events in the watch-house''.
``It's my understanding that it is entirely consistent with the circumstances which police allege occurred -- that what happened was that when the person who died was removed from the prison van, there was a scuffle initiated by the person who died, who allegedly punched the police officer in the head. There was a scuffle and the police officer and the person who died then fell to the ground on some concrete steps. It's important that people realise that the person who has died tragically sustained injuries, that people should not draw conclusions from that alone.''
When a section of the autopsy report was read to a public meeting on Friday the simmering mood of discontent erupted. The crowd walked 100m or so and set fire to the court house, police station and police barracks, with many threatening in loud tones to kill the 18 police who had fled the buildings and were holed up in the hospital.
But the overkill that followed has been incredible. On Friday night, 80 more police were flown in, including the tactical response group. That night they began rounding up the ringleaders of the riot. In full armour they burst into homes, held guns on people and forced children and women to lie face-down on the floor while they searched their homes. By daylight on Saturday, 12 men had been arrested. None were armed, and none put up any resistance.
Ever since, the islanders have witnessed war-like scenes of vehicle loads of armed police patrolling the streets, arresting their men and shipping them off to the mainland. The state schoolchildren have no school to go to and the Catholic primary school is severely hampered because police commandeered their bus.
Premier Peter Beattie arrived yesterday morning and met for two hours with the local council. He put a five-point proposal to restore order and ``look to the future'', but to a large degree, his pleas fell on deaf ears.
This is an island where people were forced from their homes to come and live. Thousands of people were sent here and told to integrate. There is no common cultural language and large families and clans are constantly in dispute, particularly where positions of power are concerned.
Locals desperately want a decent life. They want education, health and jobs for their children, but impediments forever seem to be placed in their way.
This latest death in custody has devastated these people. Their leaders are at a loss at how to handle the rioting that followed -- and are angry at the small number of people who led the crowd, inciting them to set fire to the buildings and threaten the police.
Five years ago I interviewed Renata Pryor's father on his death bed. Peter was a quiet, gentle Aboriginal man aged over 90, who had lost his legs to sugar diabetes. He told his story -- how as a teenager in the 1930s he was on Palm Island when the white administrator, Robert Curry, a war veteran, went mad, shot several people dead and set fire to a building.
It was resolved that the young Peter Pryor was made the only male able to protect the community. He was given a shotgun to use if Curry returned. He did return, came up from his boat pointing a gun at Peter and Peter shot him dead.
Peter was charged with murder, but it was thrown out of court. He then went to the Townsville jetty to catch a boat back to the island but was met by police who told him the brother of the deceased had threatened to kill him. Their solution was not to warn the brother making the threats but to put Peter back in jail for six months ``for his own protection''.
Palm Islanders feel they have a history of rough justice. Perhaps the death of Cameron Doomadgee was just one too many.

Tony Koch has been on Palm Island since Saturday.