Telling the Truth in Postwar Europe -- "There Has Been a Lot of Dirt Here" : Denunciations and Accusations -- Housewives and Opportunists : Categorizing DP Women and Wives -- Unaccompanied Children and Unfit Mothers -- The Children Left Behind -- "The top-heavy slow-turning wheel" : From Europe to Australia -- Address Unknown : Tracing the Disappeared -- Conclusion : History off the Leash.
Roughly fifteen percent of the world's total population is believed to live with some form of disability. The proportion in refugee and migrant populations is undoubtedly higher, exacerbated by their exposure to high risk, violence and uncertainty. People who have disabilities are also among those most prone to poverty, social marginalisation, prejudice and discrimination. Yet despite various mechanisms introduced by the international community to protect people with disabilities, including the UN Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities (2007), the stigma and barriers refugee and migrants face in gaining entry or asylum prevails. These barriers are practical as well as political: legislation introduced in Australia, for example, has fortified the ability of government to deport people who are non-citizens, under a policy of removal that has done away with legal processes. The policy gained some negative attention in the media in the early years of this century, when controversies surrounded the deportation of mentally ill Australian citizens Cornelia Rau and Vivian Alvarez Solon by mistake. But despite these brief moments of outrage, the government has continued to deport families and individuals it considers will impose "excessive cost" on the public purse in the long run.
Roughly fifteen percent of the world's total population is believed to live with some form of disability. The proportion in refugee and migrant populations is undoubtedly higher, exacerbated by their exposure to high risk, violence and uncertainty. People who have disabilities are also among those most prone to poverty, social marginalisation, prejudice and discrimination. Yet despite various mechanisms introduced by the international community to protect people with disabilities, including the UN Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities (2007), the stigma and barriers refugee and migrants face in gaining entry or asylum prevails. These barriers are practical as well as political: legislation introduced in Australia, for example, has fortified the ability of government to deport people who are non-citizens, under a policy of removal that has done away with legal processes. The policy gained some negative attention in the media in the early years of this century, when controversies surrounded the deportation of mentally ill Australian citizens Cornelia Rau and Vivian Alvarez Solon by mistake. But despite these brief moments of outrage, the government has continued to deport families and individuals it considers will impose "excessive cost" on the public purse in the long run.
People smugglers are the pariahs of the modern world. There is no other trade so demonised and, yet at the same time, so useful to contemporary Australian politics. But beyond the rhetoric lies a rich history that reaches beyond the maritime borders of our island continent and has a longer lineage than the recent refugee movements of the twenty-first century. Smuggled recounts the journeys to Australia of refugees and their smugglers since the Second World War - from Jews escaping the Holocaust, Eastern Europeans slipping through the Iron Curtain, 'boat people' fleeing the Vietnam War to refugees escaping unthinkable violence in the Middle East and Africa. Based on original research and revealing personal interviews, Smuggled marks the first attempt to detach the term 'people smuggler' from its pejorative connotations, and provides a compelling insight into a defining yet unexplored part of Australia's history
From the beginning of the twentieth century, Sydney defined cosmopolitanism and modernity in the national imagination, and central to this image was the cinema: its technology, its architecture, its stars, its marketing and the stories it circulated to its audiences about Australia and the world. Though it is difficult to define a genre of Sydney film, Sydney provided the backdrop for a host of ideas about the city, and later suburbia. Sydney came to be seen as a 'tinsel town' of cultural bankruptcy and hedonism. But distinctive stories about the city itself are rare, except perhaps in the 1930s and 1940s films made by the Commonwealth government for marketing the nation. Migrant film emerged as an important category of cinema from the 1970s, making Sydney central to the understanding and construction of Australian multiculturalism. This essay explores the historic beginnings of cinema in Sydney, the experience of going to the pictures, and a broad spectrum of films. We also examine the role Sydney has played in the production and exhibition of cinema nationally and internationally.