Mr ROSS CAMERON (Parliamentary Secretary to the Treasurer) (8:31 PM) —I want to take advantage of the latitude offered by the debate on appropriation bills, in this instance Appropriation Bill (No. 3) 2003-2004 and cognate bills, to refer not to the immediate needs of my constituents, pressing as they may be, or to defend the government's budget against the accusations and attacks made by the member for Hasluck, sincere as she may be. I want to reflect on the plight of four of the world's minorities, four of the world's peoples who would love today to be present either in the galleries or on the floor of a parliament such as this in which we are free to speak without fear of persecution for our beliefs. I refer in particular to the Kurds and Assyrians in Iraq, to the Tamils in Sri Lanka and to the Maronites in Lebanon—and might I say to all Lebanese in their relations with their neighbour Syria.

The Kurds are an ancient people whose lineage goes all the way back to Xenophon and the so-called Carduchi, whose most celebrated tribal member was Saladin but who have experienced, since their conquest by the Arabs in the 7th century, a litany of conquerors, of oppressions and of atrocities. They suffered under the Seljuk Turks in the 11th century, under the Mongols in the 13th to 15th centuries and later under the Safavid and Ottoman empires until the end of the First World War.

They were encouraged by Woodrow Wilson's plea for self-determination at the end of the First World War and the breakup of the Ottoman Empire. Wilson urged on the parties respect for the non-Turkish minorities of the former Ottoman Empire. With some optimism in their hearts the Kurds attended the Paris peace conference in 1919 and were elated to find themselves recognised as an autonomous sovereign state under the Treaty of Sevres. But it was a mere two years later that Turkey, under the leadership of Kamal Attaturk—who Australians will remember for his most effective leadership of the Turkish forces at Gallipoli—negotiated the successor to the Sevres Treaty in the Treaty of Lausanne, in which the Kurds, to their astonishment and dismay, found that their independence had been entirely omitted. What followed in the 1920s and 1930s was a series of Kurdish uprisings in Turkey which we would have to say were put down with ruthless brutality. The Kurds were described as `mountain Turks' in an effort to deprive them of their identity. They were forbidden to teach their own language in schools, to give their children Kurdish names or to wear Kurdish dress.

We have to acknowledge that that experience in Turkey in the first third of last century was really mirrored by the Kurdish experience in the other countries in which they are present, most particularly in Iran, a country in which they currently make up about 10 per cent of the population in the north-west, and then in north-eastern Iraq, where they have come to particular prominence since the first Gulf War and where they now represent almost a quarter of the population. Likewise there are significant Kurdish populations in Syria. The mountains of eastern Turkey, north-eastern Iraq and north-western Iran have collectively been known as Kurdistan, although that has never been matched by any sort of sovereignty or independence.

After a revolution in Iran and a new republic created in 1979, there was, in a similar experience to the Turkish Kurds, a brutal suppression of the Kurds. In Iraq, when so often it is said that Saddam Hussein used nerve gas against his own people, we are talking primarily about his use of nerve gas and of chemical weapons which he developed and perfected against the Iraqi Kurds. We know that in one year alone, 1988, 200,000 Iraqi Kurds were massacred by Saddam's Baathist regime.

The Kurds, of course, were elated by the first Gulf War and the hope that George Bush Sr would bring some sense of liberty and some hope of autonomy. But with the decision—right or wrong in hindsight—not to proceed all the way to Baghdad and achieve regime change but to leave Saddam in power, we saw yet another brutal repression of the Kurds. So it was in the most recent war in Iraq that the Kurds had great reluctance to come forward and join the contest until the very last minute, because their experience had been so bitter and their disappointment so great in relation to the first American and allied intervention.

It was a pleasure for me to attend, along with my colleague the member for Reid, an event with the Kurdish community in my electorate over the weekend, at which there would have been 500 or 600 gathered together to listen to the great Kurdish singer and songwriter, Shivan Perves, who is known all over the world for his gentle and humorous but nonetheless extremely poignant and effective advocacy of the cause of the Kurds. We were both moved by the concert we attended. One could not help but be affected by both the deep sense of grief that was shared by the entire audience and, at the same time, their sense of optimism and hopefulness about the future. The Kurds in my electorate are making exceptionally good migrants to this country and are seizing the opportunities of freedom with both hands.

However, we look now to this transition from the current Iraqi governing council. On 30 June this year the Iraqi transitional national assembly will elect new leaders. In March of next year we will see the vote for a constitutional council, followed in December of next year by full national elections that the world will watch with great interest to see what sort of resolution will be achieved. The point of my rising tonight is that, while the Sunni and the Shia clearly make up a significant majority of the country, it is my hope that what was left undone after the First World War, when the Treaty of Lausanne left the Kurds out altogether, can be sorted out and that we can learn from the lessons of the past and find a place for the Kurds. It is not my intention to seek to hector or lecture the people of Iraq, who will ultimately make their own decisions on these matters, but clearly what we would hope for is respect for the ethnic identity, the religious sensibility, the particular culture and the traditions of the Kurds, and that in whatever constitutional arrangement is arrived at there should be respect for that diversity. The Kurds should, really for the first time in modern history, have the opportunity to find a place of peace and security in Kurdistan.

As I am reflecting on the needs of the small, I point out that the Assyrians are likewise an ancient people of Iraq. They still speak Aramaic, which was the language spoken by Christ. They are perhaps the most ancient of the Christian communities, and they have been in that part of the world, practising as Christians, for over 2,000 years. Frankly, as I would lean on and appeal to the Shia and Sunni to make room for the differences and distinctiveness of the Kurds, I would likewise appeal to the Kurds and their other Iraqi neighbours to leave room for the Assyrians. It is easy to forget the small in our rush to make some sort of a compromise and to achieve some kind of a deal. It would be the crowning glory of the new Iraq if the Assyrians, the Kurds, the Sunni and the Shia could find some means to demonstrate to the world that they can live together as one united nation.

I turn now to the experience of the Tamils in Sri Lanka. The Tamils represent about nine per cent of the 20-odd million people in Sri Lanka—a nation, population wise, very similar to our own but in a much smaller geographical area. In Sri Lanka we have the dominant Sinhalese and the smaller group of Tamils, who are linguistically and religiously different. During the British occupation of then Ceylon the British administration formed, I think it is fair to say, closer links and relationships with the Tamil community than the Sinhalese community and invested more heavily in their education and social and economic infrastructure. At the time of the British departure, there was a sense in which the Sinhalese had a perhaps understandable desire to square the ledger and to fully exploit the political power which grew out of their numerical superiority—and what has followed over the last 50 years has been a terrible story of civil war, brutality and inhumanity.

It is not my purpose now to make some calculation of blame to be apportioned to either side. I acknowledge to the Sinhalese that, when we talk about terrorism, they have suffered greatly. The Tamils, in their desperation and sense of hopelessness, employed the strategy of nonviolence on successive occasions in the fifties, sixties and seventies, but found that the assurances that they were given were not honoured, and they reverted to a course of violence which, frankly, has been exceeded by few alienated minorities anywhere in the world in the last 25 years.

But we ought to acknowledge that there has been great progress in the last two years, and I want to congratulate the government of Norway for their very particular intervention in this matter. One might think, `What do the people of Norway, on the other side of the earth, have in common with the people of Sri Lanka?' But it is to their very great credit that they involved themselves—and involved themselves in a very constructive way—to seek to broker a truce between the warring parties. So in 2001 we saw this great ray of light break through the darkness and despair, with an announcement by the Tamil Tigers that they would enter into a ceasefire and proceed to a very systematic process of negotiation, which has resulted in the reopening of the highway between Jaffna and Colombo—in effect between the Tamils and the Sinhalese. The symbolism of the reopening of that road ought not to be underestimated. We have seen the Sinhalese commit themselves to the withdrawal of troops from Tamil schools and places of worship. We have seen the beginnings of the restoration of the Tamils' economic rights, in particular their fishing rights, as well as in other areas.

I am concerned about this situation at present because over the last few months there has been a halt in the momentum towards peace, and what we have seen develop is a bitter contest between Prime Minister Ranil Wickremesinghe and President Kumaratunga, the two leading Sinhalese political leaders of Sri Lanka. As we politicians tend to do, particularly in the lead-up to elections, they have been drawn into divisions which are putting the peace process at risk. I note that recently the President, for the first time in modern Sri Lanka's history, exercised her executive powers to sack three of the Prime Minister's ministers and place her own ministers for information, for the interior and for defence into executive office. This has created a sense of shock amongst the people of Sri Lanka, not just the Tamils but also many of the Sinhalese.

I risk being presumptive and meddling in the domestic affairs of another sovereign state, but I simply want to record my concern. This Norwegian-brokered truce has now been in effect for over two years. It has promised a great deal. Several hundred thousand Sri Lankans have died in this bloody civil dispute, and a nation which was once a jewel of tourism has turned into a place for which ministries for foreign affairs, including our own, issue regular warnings to travellers not to go. I acknowledge the great progress that has been made over the last two years, including the willingness of the Tamils to put down their weapons, and I urge and call upon all of the parties in that dispute to renew their efforts to achieve a peaceful solution.

I turn finally to the situation of Lebanon. I confess that, when I spoke to one of our own officers in the department of foreign affairs to verify some of the material which I had heard anecdotally, I was told that we have not had a great concentration on Lebanon, with all of the other things going on in the Middle East—and this, of course, is always the plight of the smaller powers. The Lebanese trace their lineage to the Phoenicians, who gave us cities like Byblos, perhaps the oldest city in the world and the birthplace of the idea of the book, and Cadmus, who gave us the alphabet by teaching it to the Greeks. They made a great contribution to civilisation.

But Lebanon, having gone through its own civil war, which did not finish until the beginning of the 1990s, is a country that has suffered greatly. The Lebanese have suffered because the big powers have done deals and been prepared to turn a blind eye, if you like, to achieve wider geopolitical objectives. I speak of not merely the Maronites but Lebanese people of all ethnic and religious backgrounds. I find there is a great sense of unity and patriotism in the nation and a desire by all of the various ethnic and religious groups to live together.

We must acknowledge the fact that Syria has not just played the role of a neighbouring big brother in a positive, fraternal sense but also played a role in the domestic affairs of Lebanon which calls into question the sovereignty of the Lebanese and is frankly something of a humiliation to them. I well recall in 1997, when I first landed at Beirut airport, being somewhat astonished as I walked towards the passenger terminal to find a massive portrait of the then president of Syria, Hafez al-Assad, on the side of the airport. I thought I had landed in Damascus rather than Beirut.

Last week we saw Secretary of State Colin Powell announce that the US was seriously considering introducing sanctions against Syria for its apparent support of terrorists, for its reluctance to cooperate on the bank accounts of Saddam Hussein, for its own disarmament and non-proliferation obligations and, more particularly, for its refusal to withdraw the many thousands of Syrian troops which are still on Lebanese soil.

It is encouraging to hear rumours of some kind of an agreement that may be in the process of negotiation between the current Syrian President, Bashar al-Assad, and Cardinal Nasrallah Boutros Sfeir, the patriarch of the Maronites, which would end quota limitations for Christian candidates in the Lebanese parliament; which might result in the release of the Christian Phalange Party leader Samir Geagea after 15 years in a Lebanese jail under the Syrian secret police; which would end extant prosecutions against former Lebanese President General Michel Aoun, now living in Syrian-imposed exile in Paris; and which might see the withdrawal of Syrian troops from Lebanon, with the exception of a small contingent in the Beqaa Valley. I certainly hope those reports are true, and I look forward to a free and sovereign Lebanon. (Time expired)