Courageous, fearless, formidable, pioneering, principled. Graceful, dignified, and intelligent.
Attributes most of us would wish for in a leader, but which we so very seldom find.
Unsurprisingly, we are not talking of any of the headline-grabbing white (and usually old) men who dominate world politics today. Instead, the references are to a very unlikely leader - Australian Aboriginal woman, Lowitja O’Donoghue who died on February 4, aged 91.
Like the woman herself, Lowitja’s story is the stuff of both literature and blockbuster films. A member of Australia’s Stolen Generations, she went from being told she "would amount to nothing" to being awarded five honorary doctorates, becoming the first Aboriginal nurse, the first Aboriginal person to address the UN and in 1984, Australian of the Year.
In 1998, she was also officially declared a ‘National Living Treasure’. On her death, Australian Prime Minister Anthony Albanese described her as "one of the most remarkable leaders this country has ever known".
Born a Yankunytjatjara woman, Lowitja along with her sisters, (like so many other Aboriginal children), was ‘removed’ at the age of two from her family (supposedly with consent) and raised in a missionary institution for ‘half caste’ children (a truly loathsome term). That institution even assigned her a name (Lois) and a date and place of birth.
It was not until 30 years later that she again met up with her mother Lily. In the intervening years, Lily did not know where her family had been taken and did not receive any communication. Such was the cruelty of official state policy.
Lowitja’s father, Tom O’Donoughue (who she never knew) was a stockman of Irish descent, a fact she was proud of and mischievously used when engaged in reconciliation work.
As a result of a fortuitous meeting (with extended family members who recognised her) in the South Australian town of Coober Pedy, Lowitja was reunited with her mother. As she and her elder sister prepared for that reunion, Lily waited day after day on the road for the arrival of her daughters from dawn to dusk.
When they met, Lowitja and her mother had no shared language, and could speak "only through the eyes". Their relationship remained fraught until the end. In many a conversation, Lowitja spoke movingly about the fact that her mother’s life had been "laid waste" by the cruel removal of five of her children.
For Lowitja, her mother’s story and that of many other Aboriginal parents galvanised her thinking and propelled her activism on Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander issues throughout her life.
In the early 1950s, she campaigned alongside others for the right of Aboriginal women to enter nursing where, as in many other fields, institutional racism was the norm. It was only after that campaigning that she and another Aboriginal woman were accepted as the first Indigenous trainees, in 1954. According to Lowitja it was that specific experience that "really got my blood up".
From the earliest days of her life, she endured intense discrimination, a reality that never defeated her but that she rose above developing an unshakeable belief in the necessity and possibility of a reconciled Australia. One that recognised and respected the rights of all, including its First Peoples.
Throughout her life, Lowitja effectively helped challenge one of the greatest fictions of Australian history and culture. To this day, many Australians still cling to the belief that the country’s history began with Captain Cook. But Lowitja’s story and her work highlighted that the truth is so fundamentally different – her people represent one of the world’s oldest continuous cultures.
Her work and activism singled her out as a leader including being the first Indigenous woman to hold many executive positions in areas as diverse as healthcare, education, and social services. She advised and guided many governments and Prime Ministers, as well as national policymaking.
I had the great privilege of briefly working alongside Lowitja on peace and reconciliation agendas in Australia and Ireland. When she entered a room or when she spoke she exuded presence, authority, intelligence and yet a solid calmness. Lowitja had the ability to go right to the heart of any matter, invariably framing it in terms of fairness and justice.
And always she sought to highlight a shared way forward, not just for her own people but for all. She spoke about the need for continued education, reconciliation, and advocacy, to address historical and contemporary injustices, wherever they manifest themselves.
She was also a profoundly gregarious person who exuded humanity, engagement, and good humour.
Perhaps the greatest achievement of Lowitja’s life was that despite all the discrimination, abuse, racism, and trauma she experienced in life as an Australian Aboriginal woman, she never yielded to pessimism, despair, or powerlessness.