Tuesday 25 June 2013

A Breakthrough Moment: Robert Ellicott, QC, and Greg Quintal


In the history of the Pitcairn Island people there have been critical periods which, in retrospect, required the assistance of “outsiders” to proceed.  The original John Buffett may be the initial one of these people.  He was the first to bring new ideas and skills to the community.  Captain William Driver, who took it upon himself in 1831 to return the Islanders to Pitcairn after their disastrous five-months in Tahiti, would be another.  Some 20% of the community died within that short period, mostly from influenza.  It was a horrible and desperate time.  Certainly Admiral of the Fleet, Fairfax Moresby, would need to be included.  No one represented the interests of the Pitcairn people, in London and within the halls of the Colonial Office, more loyally than the Admiral, particularly during the years leading to the relocation of the people to Norfolk Island.  This special relationship with the Admiral is reflected, among other things, in the number of sons named Fairfax or Moresby in his honour, or Fortescue, after one of his sons, well into the 20th Century.  Former Australian Commonwealth Territories Minister, Robert Ellicott, QC, must also be on this list.  He was the principal architect in 1979 of The Norfolk Island Act, which still forms the basis of the Island’s government.

This thread is not about politics, but about the bond of trust that formed between two initial foes, Minister Ellicott and Island farmer, Greg Quintal.  Greg, a sixth-generation descendant of Bounty mutineer, Mathew Quintal, was a member of the Norfolk Island Advisory Council in the 1970s and a part of the Island’s negotiating team during a very bitter stage of negotiations between the Council and the Commonwealth regarding Norfolk’s political future.  A little-known incident occurred between them in 1978 that demonstrates what great things can happen when people of goodwill meet, even in trying times.  One is now 95, the other 87, and their ensuing friendship continues to this day. 

As uncertain as the future of Norfolk Island might seem today, it was probably more so during the 1970s.  All politics aside (and I’ll do my best), after more than a century of contention regarding the “ownership” of Norfolk – the Pitcairn Islanders arrived believing Queen Victoria had given them the Island; the Colonial Office disagreed – a 1976 Royal Commission report initiated by the Commonwealth, the Nimmo Report, essentially recommended the External Territory of Norfolk Island be absorbed into the Commonwealth.  The Norfolk Council of the day rejected the report in its entirety.  Particularly for Norfolk Islanders of Pitcairn-descent, a tremendous amount was at stake and emotions ran high.  Add to that a couple more years of vitriolic name-calling and the stage is set for intractable negotiations between the parties with seemingly no middle ground.  Enter Commonwealth Territories Minister Bob Ellicott and Norfolk Councillor Greg Quintal.  The incident, told to me by someone present and confirmed by both Greg and Ellicott, is as follows:

From the Norfolk Island perspective, talks were at an all-time low, with time and resources always on the Commonwealth’s side.  At a particularly frustrating meeting, Greg suddenly begins to sing the hymn, “Praise God From Whom All Blessings Flow”.  This is what Norfolk Islanders sang on the shoreline in the 1930s as a much-disliked Administrator finally sailed away from the Island.  It’s been considered a protest song amongst Islanders of that generation ever since, Norfolk’s version of “We Shall Overcome”, and Greg is singing it now at the negotiating table.  It helps that Bob Ellicott turns out to be a committed Methodist.  This is what I think happened.

Greg’s response was so unusual, so un-Western-like, that Bob gets the sense that maybe Norfolk is different, too, and pauses to take a second look.  At that moment, preconceptions disappear and political agendas momentarily vanish.  At that instant, as well, Greg, Bob and the others in the room start to see each other as people, with families and histories and equal concerns about the future, rather than merely as opponents. 

I don’t believe it was entirely coincidence that the negotiations seemed to quickly change afterwards.  News accounts of the day reveal a genuinely surprising, sudden turnabout.  The controversial recommendations of the Nimmo Report were shelved by the Commonwealth in favour of entirely new legislation, The Act, which rightly or wrongly bestowed on a people about as much self-determination as most likely could have legally been given.  

That point in time in the negotiating room I call an Ellicott moment.  It could just as easily be called a Quintal moment.  It is an instance of empathy and understanding between peoples that can change the course of events.  I think we could use such a moment now.

- Rick Kleiner

Postscript:  Some 30 years later, when Greg’s grandson was holidaying in Australia, he stayed with Bob’s daughter.  The Minister and the Farmer.