When an Aboriginal Australian senator loudly heckled King Charles moments after he delivered a speech in the nation’s Parliament House, it caught the world’s attention.
Lidia Thorpe’s cries of “not my King” and “this is not your land” shone a light on a country that is still grappling with its colonial past.
But in the debate that followed on the “appropriateness” of Thorpe’s protest, something else became clear: a split within the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander community itself.
In the wake of an unsuccessful referendum which – had it passed – would have granted them constitutional recognition, the question many of Australia’s first inhabitants are now grappling with is how they should go about getting the self-determination they have fought so long for.
Indigenous Australians are classed as the oldest living culture on earth, and have inhabited the continent for at least 65,000 years.
But for more than 200 years – since the 1770 arrival of Captain James Cook and subsequent British settlement – they have endured long chapters of colonial violence, including the theft of their lands, livelihoods, and even children.
As a result, today, they still face acute disadvantages in terms of health, wealth, education, and life expectancy compared to non-Indigenous Australians.
But, as Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people make up less than 4% of the national population, their struggles rarely translate into national voting issues, experts say.
Last year’s Voice to Parliament referendum – which asked whether Australia should recognise its first inhabitants in the constitution and allow them a body to advise the parliament – was a key exception.
The result was a resounding ‘No’, with one major analysis of the data suggesting many voters found the proposal divisive and ineffective.
And while the figures indicate a majority of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people voted ‘Yes’, support wasn’t unanimous. Thorpe herself was a leading ‘No’ campaigner, having criticised the measure as tokenistic and “an easy way to fake progress”.
But Larissa Baldwin-Roberts, a Widjabul Wia-bal woman and activist, says the ‘No’ outcome left most Indigenous Australians with “a sense of humiliation and rejection”. She adds that the debate itself – which saw countless examples of misinformation and disinformation – unleashed a wave of “racist rhetoric” that their communities are still recovering from.
The big-picture impact of the Voice, Ms Baldwin-Roberts argues, has been a growing sentiment that traditional reconciliation efforts are “dead”. Those approaches have long tried to bridge the gap between Indigenous and non-Indigenous Australians through polite dialogue and education.
It was against this backdrop that Thorpe made her protest in parliament.
“You can’t reconcile with a country that doesn’t see you,” Ms Baldwin-Roberts tells the BBC. “You can’t reconcile with a country that doesn’t think that you deserve justice.”
Ms Baldwin-Roberts says “new strategies” are needed to disrupt the status quo. She sees Thorpe’s protest as “incredibly brave” and reflective of conversations many First Nations people are having.
“There are Indigenous communities around the country talking about our stolen children, our stolen histories – but she had access to that room. As an Australian senator she knows she’s going to get media, and it’s important to make this a talking point.”
Daniel Williams, who is of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander descent, agreed.
“After the [referendum] last year, what do Indigenous people have left? How can we find [an] audience with the monarch to effect change?” he asked a political panel on the ABC.
“We’re talking about 200 years of pain that is continuing to be unanswered and unresolved.”
But others see it differently: there is a long history of Indigenous leaders petitioning the Royal Family to recognise their peoples’ struggle, but the independent’s senator’s act – for some – went too far.
Nova Peris, a former senator who was the first Aboriginal woman in parliament, described it as an “embarrassing” move which didn’t “reflect the manners, or approach to reconciliation, of Aboriginal Australians at large”.
Both sides of parliament dismissed it as disrespectful and a failed attempt at grandstanding.
Prof Tom Calma, a Kungarakan and Iwaidja man who was in the room, said it risked alienating “the other 96%” of Australia’s population who may not “see or understand the enduring impacts of colonisation”.
“I don’t think the protest – the way that Senator Thorpe went about it – brings people along with us. And in the spirit of reconciliation, we need allies.”
Mr Calma also felt that Thorpe’s demand that King Charles “give [Indigenous people] a treaty” was misplaced, given that those negotiations would be handled by Australia’s government, not the Crown.
As it stands, Australia is one of the only Commonwealth countries to have never signed a treaty, or treaties, with its first inhabitants, or to have recognised them in its founding document.
And with a general election expected before mid-next year, both sides of politics have sought to move on swiftly from the Voice debate, meaning there is much uncertainty over future policy.
For Ms Baldwin-Roberts, this week’s juxtaposition between the crowds of royal supporters decked out in regalia, and those engaging in protest nearby, reflects “a large separation and social reality between Australia’s Indigenous and non-Indigenous populations” that exists today.
And in order to bridge that gap, she believes “there has to be some level of reckoning”.
“We live in different spaces, it’s still a largely separated nation. So where do we go from here?”
