Once Upon A Time in Tasmania …

Once upon a time, the people of the fair state of Tasmania were waiting most uncertainly to hear, from the upper order of the ruling council, their determination in the matter of the forests peace.

The committee of the upper council numbered 13 persons, of varying temperaments and acuities. They had received evidence and testimonial from many – individuals proclaiming knowledge of the dilemma, both scientific and social, as well as coalitions of like-minded persons who sought to plead their own circumstances, and persuade the emotions of the committee to their cause.

One day, in the northern region of the state, a modest assemblage was granted an audience with the committee. They hoped, or so it seemed, to further the fortunes of their membership by encouraging persistence of the way of living to which they had become accustomed. They sought, above all, a rejection of the peace decreed by the lower order of the ruling council, and they were most insistent and clamorous in their addresses to the thirteen. They went under the peculiar denomination ‘Giveth it Back’ – peculiar, since the exact nature of what was to be given back was not elaborated. But the name had a certain, immediately appealing gravitas, and no questions seeking clarification were asked by the easily distracted committee.

Some of the committee, most especially Adriana the Spellbound, were exceedingly sympathetic and conciliatory to those who wished to have whatever ‘it’ was returned to them, and they were given rein to recite their narratives at some length.

Two of the said emissaries, Michael the Troubled and his lady wife, Dimity the Equestrian, related a most cautionary tale of their entanglement with the enterprise of Robin the Gray and John the Gay. They put their faith in forestry, and joined in commercial union with the infallible behemoth – they thought their future to be assured. Tragically, however, the monstrous enterprise betrayed them, and many others besides. All fell victim to the vile, rancid harvest of the fruits of countless deceits, sown over many years in the naïve, welcoming hearts and minds of Tasmanian’s well-heeled rural folk. The enterprise had promised riches, so they planted trees – it was a better return than farming, and they were beguiled by the prospect of an ever-increasing fortune. The enterprise was seen as a giant cog, turning surely, and driving the lives and fortunes of those domiciled in the northern districts of the island of Tasmania. ‘As a smaller cog, we were happy to draw forward progress from our attachment to this wheel of fortune’, they explained.

Imagine their anguish when it transpired that the promised riches were but an ephemera – a cruel, deceptive assurance given by the corporate elites they had trusted. ‘The company was not a good corporate citizen’, bemoaned the credulous pair.

Their disillusionment with the enterprise was modified, however, by an unassailable belief in the true cause of their discomfiture – the despicable greens. Their resentments were many, for the actions of these ne’er do wells – these violators of their generations-old comfortable lifestyle – had been undeservedly successful. Though few in number, they had almost single-handedly (with some meagre aid from parlous worldwide ecomomic conditions, and the poor decisions of affected individuals) desecrated the sanctity of the beleaguered complainants unfettered earning capacity. ‘They must be stopped’, thundered Michael the Troubled, to the plainly sympathetic committee members.

And so it came to pass that, despite its transgressions, the enterprise was forgiven its part in this unending misery, since it, too, had suffered fatally at the hands of the green ones.

Likewise the ogre, which was regarded most benevolently by those of the ‘Giveth it Back’ assembly. For these distressed souls, the ogre was a beneficent creature, forced to commit atrocities in the forests by the evil machinations of the green enemy.

Michael the Troubled and Dimity the Equestrian then spoke earnestly of the impeccable management of the forests. They had garnered much benefit from the land for generations, and they believed most righteously that their husbandry of the land was exemplary. ‘We have done nothing wrong’, they said. They descried the green people and their quest to bring a most unwelcome change to their way of life. ‘It must not be allowed’, they argued vehemently.

The green ones were underhanded and subversive, they said, and their illegal activities must be punished if the fair island state was to prosper. Their perverting activities were now being made manifest overseas, ‘but before there would be spikes going into trees and that sort of thing. It was absolutely horrendous because people could or probably did get killed because of it’, said Dimity the Equestrian (see the Hansard record on page 43 at
http://www.parliament.tas.gov.au/ctee/Council/Transcripts/7%20February%202013%20-%20Launceston.pdf).

The committee of 13 was strangely untroubled by this accusation. It drew no specific response. Perhaps they were dazzled by the lustrous cloak of parliamentary privilege, draped artfully over the proceedings? They moved seamlessly forward, and invited another member of ‘Giveth it Back’ to speak. The following dissertation was in similar terms to the one preceding, and the committee was left in no doubt that the green cohort had conspired most deviously to rob the assembled orators of their generous livelihoods.

At the behest of the greens, it seemed that a further part of the island might be secured against the ravages of the ogre and its compatriots. The greens’ many adversaries were enraged by such a possibility. It mattered little that nought had, as yet, been achieved by the lovers of trees, and the ogre’s wanton exploitation continued unabated. Foremost in the minds of Michael the Troubled and his band was rejection of the greens’ passion for trees at the expense of decent, hard-working forest folk. Trees have been cut down for generations, and it should always be so, they said. After all, we are entitled to earn a living, and they grow back, don’t they?

The committee nodded sagely – the exquisite logic, and perfectly constructed argument, were welcomed most warmly. Except by Ruth the Persistent, whose manner raised the ire of committee chairman, Paul the Devout – but that is another tale altogether.

*Miss Grimm is known to the Editor