Journal articles on the topic 'Australian Task Force (Vietnam)'

We comment on the focal article (LCIOP Joint Task Force, 2017) from the perspective of practitioners and academics in industrial and organizational (I-O) psychology, who have been involved for some years in debates about the regulation of psychology in Australia.

Recently, the American Psychological Association (APA; 1993) Division of Clinical Psychologists (Division 12) established a task force to define empirically validated treatment and make recommendations in relation to methods for educating mental health professionals, third-party payors, and the public about effective psychotherapies. Predictably, the task force report has a somewhat controversial status but continues to be an influential blueprint for the improvement of clinical psychology in various countries including Australia. The role of the Australian Association for Cognitive and Behaviour Therapy (AACBT) is highlighted in relation to accreditation and mandatory professional development (Australian Psychological Society).

This paper presents the seizure of two bridges in An Nasiriyah by the troops of Task Force Tarawa (USMC) during the initial phase of Operation “Iraqi Freedom”. This combat is considered to be one of the major urban fights since the fighting in Hue during the Vietnam War (1968). The first part of the article discusses the task and organization of TF Tarawa. The second part presents the struggle of 1st Marine Battalion, which is a classic example of the seizure of key objectives in urban combat.

This article focuses on the Australian implementation of the Financial Action Task Force (FATF) Recommendations, so-called ‘soft law’ instruments, which represent the international standards in Counter Terrorist Financing (CTF) but which force legislators to conform. The article will fill the gaps existing in the literature today by focusing on the origins and motives of broad CTF legislation in Australia, then detailing each of the FATF's CTF Recommendations and the ways in which they are implemented in Australia. This approach differs significantly from other literature in the field, which deals solely with Australian implementation of one of the FATF's components. The current paper's examination will reveal the CTF regime in Australia, a decade after the FATF's first CTF Mutual Evaluation Report on Australia, and its decisive influence.

This Armed Forces & Society issue is on women in the contemporary armed forces in the United States and other nations to include the South African National Defense Force and the Australian Defense Force. This issue contains a collection of nine papers, each reviewing a current aspect of women serving in the military since the post–Vietnam War Era. There are also two review essays of Megan Mackenzie’s book, Beyond the Band of Brothers: The US Military and the Myth That Women Can’t Fight. An overview of changing laws and the expanding role of women in the military is provided in this introduction, as well as summaries of the nine articles, and comments on the two book reviews mentioned above.

The process of evaluating the Australian National Campaign Against Drug Abuse (NCADA) is described. The campaign consists of activities in education, treatment, research and legislative controls. Because of the complex nature of the campaign, a range of evaluation activities was used, including activity monitoring, process and outcome evaluations and the establishment of an expert task force to undertake an assessment of the overall impact of the first three years of the campaign. The conduct of the task force's approach is described and some positive and negative lessons are discussed.

Abstract Obesity is of significant and growing concern among Australian Aboriginal children, and is linked to patterns of child growth. The aim of this paper is to show diverse patterns of growth and obesity emergence among Australian Aboriginal children using historical anthropometric data. Child growth in height, weight and body mass index (BMI) is reanalysed for children aged 2 to 19 years in Australian Aboriginal communities spanning two distinct time periods (the 1950s and 1960s; and the 1990s and 2000s) and six different geographical locations: Yuendumu, Haast’s Bluff, Beswick, Kalumburu, Gerard, and Raukkan. Comparisons of stature and BMI between the earlier and later years of measurement were made, and the proportion of children classified as overweight or obese by the International Obesity Task Force criteria estimated, to allow international comparison. Aboriginal children in the 1990s and 2000s were heavier, with higher BMI than those in the 1950s and 1960s, differences in height being less marked. While no children were classified as overweight or obese in the earlier period, 15% of males and 3% of females were classified so in the later period. The data suggests that the period of onset of the epidemic of overweight and obesity among rural Australian Aboriginal children was likely to have been between the 1960s and 1980s.

On 17 April 1946, seven Australian war crimes investigators left the military perimeter British troops were maintaining around the city of Batavia and travelled into an anarchic, lawless Javanese hinterland, rife with different Indonesian revolutionary militants fighting the Dutch and each other. As they entered the kampong of Tjaringin, north of Bogor, automatic rifle fire hit their car. Two men died immediately; a third was found days later in a nearby ditch, shot in the back of the head. Amid outrage in the Australian press, External Affairs Minister H. V Evatt announced he was sending an Australian judge, Richard Kirby, to investigate the killings. This article analyses Kirby's trip to Indonesia and his approach to the task of locating and bringing to trial the murderers.Kirby's task was a microcosm of the challenge the West faced in responding to the nationalist uprisings that convulsed postwar Asia. Those uprisings, at times marked by violent antiforeign sentiment, raised for Western nations the spectre of permanent instability and anarchy impeding their interests and influence: O.S.S. officer Peter Dewey's murder in Vietnam the year before had similarly encapsulated this issue for the United States. Yet by the end of the 1940s, Western policymakers had for the most part moved from supporting formal colonialism to supporting the formation of independent states run by Asian nationalists. Australia's support for the Indonesian Republic in its struggle against Dutch rule was an early example of this shift. It so happened that Kirby's 1946 Java mission coincided with a period of backtracking in Australia's progressive attitude to the Indonesian question: indeed, Kirby's minister at times expressed qualms with Kirby's approach.

The purpose of this paper is to review the growth of the franchising sector in Australia, assess the current situation and examine the challenges it faces as it moves into the 21st century. The growth of business format franchising is examined from the early 1970’s when some of the largest U.S. franchisors established themselves in Australia, through the 1980’s when a great number of Australian franchises were commenced and understanding of franchising was growing, until the current situation where the maturity of the sector is evident and increasingly local franchisors are extending their expansion internationally. The current situation is examined, discussing distribution of franchise systems, their performance, the growing trend to international expansion and the changing attitude of government. The roles of franchisors and franchisees are examined, with attention given to data on their plans, behaviour, opinions and concerns. Finally the problems in Australian franchising as identified by a government Franchising Task Force are discussed, together with its conclusions and recommendations which include a scheme for self-regulation by the franchising sector and attention to education and training. Franchising in Australia has achieved considerable growth and maturity. It has developed its own characteristics and now stands independent of the international participants. Instead, it is turning its attention to international expansion while continuing to develop actively its systems within Australia.

Following the changes of governments in South Vietnam, Laos and Cambodia a decade ago, the state of Iowa, like much of the rest of the United States, became home to a number of Asian refugees. In September, 1975, the Governor's task force for Indochinese resettlement was created; over the next couple of years, thousands of displaced citizens from Southeast Asia settled in this midwestern state. Unlike the west coast of the United States, Iowa has never had a very large Asian population. As anthropologists, we were interested in studying the process of culture change and adjustment facing these new residents. During the summer of 1982, we visited the Iowa Refugee Service Center to explain who we were and what we were interested in doing.

Purpose The purpose of this paper is to analyze the Vietnamese laws and practices concerning the confiscation of proceeds of crime, especially in view of Vietnam’s obligations to meet the international standards on money laundering and terrorist financing, set by the Financial Action Task Force and relevant international conventions that Vietnam ratified. To limit the scope of this paper, the analysis focuses on the confiscation of proceeds of domestic crimes that do not require international legal assistance. This paper concludes with recommendations for improving the legal framework on criminal asset recovery in Vietnam. Design/methodology/approach This is a doctrinal study that considers the applicable legal framework. This study is supported by brief case studies of major cases involving the confiscation of proceeds of crime. Findings Vietnam has a functioning asset confiscation regime but gaps in the law, lack of financial investigation expertise and lack of focused investigative attention on asset preservation and confiscation are hampering its effectiveness. The key gaps can easily be closed with appropriate amendments to the law. These reforms should be combined with a dedicated skills development program to produce sufficient number of financial investigation experts and criminal asset management experts to support the regime. The training should extend to judicial officers to ensure an appropriate understanding of the asset confiscation law. Reforms such as these should follow on a comprehensive review of Vietnam’s law and practices relating to the confiscation and forfeiture of criminal assets. This review should extend to assets linked to the financing of terrorism and proliferation to ensure that Vietnam has a comprehensive regime to deal with criminal assets. Research limitations/implications This paper draws on publicly available information regarding the confiscation of proceeds of crime in Vietnam. Little data is available on asset confiscation and that prevents an in-depth assessment of the regime. Originality/value This paper highlights gaps in the current asset confiscation regime and proposes reforms and approaches that will ensure a more effective asset confiscation regime for Vietnam.

The oil and gas (O&G) sector has made significant commitment to reduce greenhouse gas emissions by decarbonising operations and transitioning portfolios to lower-carbon products. However, assessing the impacts of physical climate risks on assets and value chains has remained a lower priority, despite climate change consistently rated the highest risk to the global economy. Here we present selected case studies of the most relevant physical climate risks that impact key infrastructure across the O&G sector, now and in the future, with and without global abatement (that is, in high and low emissions scenarios). We focus on physical climate risks including sea level rise impacts on an offshore processing region, flooding and drought impacts in an onshore processing region, and highlight supply chain impacts on shipping and ports due to climate extremes such as cyclones. These risks all have the potential to have significant and adverse impacts on Australia’s O&G sector and have a direct impact on the ability of the sector to transition to a low-carbon future. We conclude with an overview of why and how companies should undertake climate scenario analysis for physical risks, in alignment with the Task Force on Climate-related Financial Disclosures.

Police officers perform a variety of physical tasks that can range from deskwork to chasing down fleeing suspects on foot. If not sufficiently prepared these tasks can lead to an increased risk of injury or task failure. The aim of this study was to profile the routine dispatch tasks performed by the Australian law enforcement officers of a state police force by frequency and duration. Participants for this study (n = 53: male n = 43, age = 33.5 ± 7.7 years, years of service = 7.2 ± 6.4 years: Female n = 10; age = 31.6 ± 9.1 years, years of service = 7.1 ± 6.1 years) were drawn from ten different police stations. Data reporting the tasks attended, their priorities, and their durations were gathered from a computer-aided dispatch system. Data from 77 shifts (3.8 ± 4.0 tasks/shift) captured 292 tasks attended (29.2 ± 17.5 task per station). ‘Check bona fides’ (checking an individual’s identification; 27%) was the most frequently occurring task followed by attending a domestic incident (14%). The longest task was attending an accident (mean = 43.50 ± 78.85 min, range 2–249 min). The results of this study suggest that police tasks are highly varied in terms of type and duration and these may differ between regions. An understanding of the dispatch tasks police officers are required to attend can inform injury mitigation and return-to-work rehabilitation practices.

Following on from the American Psychological Association's (1993) findings regarding empirically validated treatments, a British task force (Roth & Fonagy, 1996) arrived at similar conclusions. Both publications strongly endorsed the superior efficacy of cognitive-behaviour therapy (CBT) over placebos, waiting list controls and other psychological treatments. These findings, although not new, are becoming increasingly important as new ways of funding health care become more likely. With these probable changes in health system funding, organisations such as the Australian Association for Cognitive and Behaviour Therapy will almost certainly be asked to provide evidence supporting the efficacy of certain interventions for certain problems, but also to decide who can implement such treatments. This article attempts to present the well known findings within the current framework, and poses an important question: Who can ethically and competently practice CBT?

ABSTRACT The major oil spills that resulted from the T/V ERIKA and M/V PRESTIGE breaking up and sinking off the coasts of France in December 1999 and Spain in November 2002, respectively, underscored the need for regulatory authorities, natural resource trustees, and other stakeholders to conduct pre-incident planning for vessels needing assistance. Both of these incidents provided the impetus for the development of places of refuge guidelines. By the end of 2003, both the International Maritime Organization (IMO) and the Australian Government had developed guidelines for places of refuges decision-making. By the end of 2006, places of refuge guidelines had also been developed and adopted by a number of entities in North America; including, the Alaska, Region 9, and Region 10 Regional Response Teams (RRTs) and the Pacific States/British Columbia Oil Spill Task Force (Pacific States/BC Task Force). In August 2006, the United States (U.S.) National Response Team (NRT) created an NRT Places of Refuge Workgroup (NRT POR Workgroup) to develop nationwide places of refuge guidelines for use throughout the U.S. The resulting NRT Guidelines for Places of Refuge Decision-Making (NRT POR Guidelines), which were approved by the NRT in July 2007, were based on the places of refuge guidelines developed (and adopted) by the Alaska RRT in 2004. This paper provides an overview of the development of the NRT POR Guidelines, a brief overview of key elements of the document, and a discussion of the successful implementation of the concepts included in the NRT POR Guidelines in five incidents in Alaska.

Purpose This paper aims to explore the ways in which the international standards in the field of anti-money laundering (AML) and counter-terrorist financing (CTF) have reshaped regulatory regimes in a globalised world. Design/methodology/approach This paper deconstructs the origins and development of international standards in the field of AML and CTF dealing with longstanding legal professional privilege. This paper adopts both qualitative and quantitative research methodologies. The qualitative aspect comprises a literature review of sources, including scholarly works, Financial Action Task Force (FATF) recommendations, reports and domestic laws. The quantitative aspect analyses a unique and comprehensive table reproduced below, that indicates Australia’s compliance with all the FATF recommendations over more than a decade with full alternation to FATF’s revisions of its recommendations. Findings This paper demonstrates that an understanding of the influence of the FATF norms can shed light on the departure from regular lawmaking processes and emerging forms of international governance. The conclusion suggests that tranche II is coming and Australia will amend it in domestic regime to comply with the international standard, applying the AML/CTF regime to the legal profession and thus interfering with legal professional privilege. The question is not if but when. Originality/value This paper fills the gaps in the existing literature by contemplating the future of legal professional privilege globally and in Australia, which provides a case study of a regime that does not yet comply fully with AML and CTF international standard. This approach differs significantly from that of other literature in the field, which deals comprehensively with the theoretical foundations of legal professional privilege, as well as its practicalities and limitations, without considering the influence of the international non-binding norms.

Delhi Petroleum Pty Ltd, as operator, has been responsible for the development of eight oilfields in the South Australian sector of the Cooper Basin since 1982. Some of these field developments are economically marginal, hence the need to optimise those aspects of the facilities which impact on the ongoing cost of production and the overall profitability. A phased development approach has evolved over the past three years to reduce the external financing requirements and to improve the certainty of the data used to define the key elements of each project.For the successful completion of the project a task force approach to project management is utilised, supported by the use of computerised project planning and control systems. Further, it is important to define and agree on the design criteria and philosophy for the project at the commencement, this providing a base by which to measure scope changes, and so that all concerned are working to a common goal.The use of economic analysis as a decision-making tool during all phases of the project assists the project team to home in on the key objective which is to maximise the project net present value. Comparative economics and sensitivity analysis are used at the conceptual stage to select the preferred development option, e.g. pipeline versus trucking.The design of surface facilities is dictated by a wide range of criteria including the above development philosophy. The variable nature of these criteria demonstrates that each new field development must normally be engineered individually to ensure the target of maximum net present value can be achieved.The Gidgealpa Crude Oil Development Project demonstrates the effectiveness of the above methodology and philosophies. The field was discovered in August 1984, and early production and trucking of oil commenced in January 1985 with 374 000 bbls produced prior to commissioning of the pipeline to Moomba in September 1985.

The Hon. John Dawkins (then) Minister for Employment, Education and Training, launched the Aboriginal Education Policy at a grand event in the Committee Room at Parliament House on 26th October 1989. The Prime Minister blessed the occasion with his presence and a short speech. Three of the former Chairs of the the National Aboriginal Education Committee were there, as were Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander educationists from most Australian states. Only New South Wales, which decided to boycott the launch, wasn’t officially represented.There are two reasons for calling the policy that the Minister launched the Aboriginal Education Policy. Firstly, because it is the first policy formally endorsed by any National government; and secondly, because it responds to the call made in the 1988 Report of the Aboriginal Education Policy Task Force, for a concerted national effort – to achieve broad equity between Aboriginal people and other Australians in access, participation and outcomes at all stages of education. (National Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Education Policy, 1989: 1.2.6 – Draft).

In 1999 and 2000, IWA Task Forces on Water Losses and Performance Indicators published their conclusions of over three years research, analysis and discussions. For the topics of Non-Revenue Water, Water Losses, Apparent Losses and Real Losses, these included:a recommended standard terminology, with definitions and procedures for assessing these components of the Annual Water Balance;recommended performance indicators for each of these components. This work represents a major step forward in defining the “best practice” approach to assessing and presenting components of Non-Revenue Water, for more rational comparisons of performance in diverse systems within a single organisation, within the same country, and between countries. The 21 members of the Water Services Association of Australia (WSAA) provide water and wastewater services to 12.9 million Australians. WSAA seeks to promote “best practice”, and act as a national focus for all interested parties. In February 2000 WSAA organised a national Workshop in Melbourne to discuss the IWA methodology. Arising from this Workshop, WSAA commissioned the production of customised Software and an Associated User Manual known as “Benchloss”, to promote and facilitate the application of the IWA recommended methodology throughout Australia. The paper will describe the development and application of “Benchloss” to date, with a comparison of Australian performance data against an International Data Set used by the Water Losses Task Force.

Purpose This study aims to consider the anti-money laundering/combating of financing of terrorism (AML/CFT) regime that applies to microfinance institutions (MFIs) and microfinance programmes and projects (MFPs) in Vietnam to identify ways in which to improve the alignment between financial inclusion and financial integrity objectives in relation to this sector. Design/methodology/approach This doctrinal study is informed by the Financial Action Task Force mutual evaluation methodology. Findings The AML/CFT regulatory framework for MFIs/MFPs is inadequate but improving. The money laundering and terrorist financing risks posed by microfinance are low and so is the capacity of many providers to comply with AML/CFT obligations. Given the low risk, there is space to simplify AML/CFT requirements for this sector in a manner that will better align financial inclusion and financial integrity policy objectives. Research limitations/implications This paper considers the implementation of AML/CFT obligations of MFIs/MFPs based on existing studies as well as own research relating to compliance and supervisory practices. Further empirical studies to determine for the whole microfinance sector could provide a more granular understanding of crime risks and compliance capacities in the sector. Practical implications AML/CFT regulators in Vietnam can take concrete steps to simplify the AML/CFT due diligence obligations of MFIs/MFPs and support these institutions to formalise and implement appropriate AML/CFT measures. Social implications MFIs/MFPs play a vital socio-economic role by providing financial services to the poor. Appropriate AML/CFT control measures can enable these providers to continue providing these services while strengthening economic formalisation and integrity goals of the government. Originality/value The paper provides novel supervisory perspectives on the AML/CFT regime in relation to MFIs/MFPs.

ObjectiveThis study aimed to identify body mass index (BMI) trajectories and their predictors in Australian children by their maternal immigrant status.MethodsData on 4142 children aged 2–3 years were drawn from the birth cohort of the Longitudinal Study of Australian Children. BMI was calculated according to the International Obesity Task Force cut-off points. Immigrant status was determined by the Australian Bureau of Statistics and the United Nations Development Programme, Human Development Index criteria. Latent class growth analysis estimated distinct BMI trajectories, and multinomial logistic regression analysis examined factors associated with these BMI trajectories.ResultsTwo BMI groups and six BMI trajectories were identified. The stable trajectories group included high-risk (10%, n=375), moderate-risk (5%, n=215) and low-risk (68%, n=2861) BMI trajectories. The changing trajectories group included delayed-risk (6%, n=234), gradual-risk (8%, n=314) and declining-risk (3%, n=143) BMI trajectories. We found some evidence that children of immigrants from low-and middle-income countries were more likely to have moderate-risk and high-risk BMI trajectories compared with low-risk BMI trajectory. However, these associations were insignificant in fully adjusted models. The explanatory risk factors for moderate-risk and high-risk BMI trajectory were birth weight, family socioeconomic position, and organised sports participation. Our results also suggest that 4–7 years of age may be important for the prevention of overweight/obesity in children.DiscussionA better understanding of the risk factors associated with distinct BMI trajectories in immigrant children will inform effective preventive strategies. Some of these risk factors such as non-participation in organised sports, and high screen time, may also impede the integration of immigrant children into the host culture. Obesity prevention strategies aimed at increasing physical activities in immigrant children could help deliver a social and health benefit by increasing social integration among children of immigrants and Australians.

Abstract Introduction The ultimate goal in the sports world is achieving optimal health and continuous high-level performance through an adequate balance of training load and recovery e.g. rehab, nutrition, well being and sleep. Athletes often encounter situations that negatively impact their ability to sleep well, disrupt their biological rhythms and increase mental stress e.g. late competition times, travel and high training load. Therefore, there is a need to increase our understanding of how individual variability could be impacting recovery and performance in elite sports. Methods This study examined the relationships between individual sleep and circadian patterns, well-being and performance variables in Australian Football League (AFL) athletes. Actigraphy combined with daily sleep diaries were used to gather objective sleep data over a period of 14 days. Performance tests were conducted in the morning (between 07:00 - 08:00am) and afternoon (between 14:00 - 15:00) on days 3, 5, 7, 10, 12 and 14. Performance measures included a strength test (force plate jump), a skilled based accuracy test (goal kicking) and a reaction time test (psychomotor vigilance task). Results Preliminary results show that sleep and circadian parameters differed significantly between individuals and were correlated with measures of well-being and diurnal performance. Conclusion The Australian Football League (AFL) is one of the largest growing sports industries in Australia and New Zealand with annual revenues reaching a billion dollars. These findings add to the growing literature showing how sleep impacts performance in elite athletes and highlights the need to take sleep and time of day into account. This is of critical importance to the global sports industry, who are constantly seeking marginal gains. Support n/a

Background. Due to long-hour outdoor working environment, policemen have been subjected to tremendous health risks including blood pressure (BP) and heart rate (HR). In tropical countries, the temperature is extremely harsh which may get peak at above 40 Celsius degrees or drops under 8 Celsius degrees. However, the existing data on the effects of weather variation on BP and HR among police task force has been scarce in Vietnam. Aims. This study aimed to describe the variation of 24-hour BP and HR and identify factors associated with BP and HR for further appropriate interventions in order to reduce health risks from occupational exposure. Methods. Multilevel regression analysis (MLRA) was applied with two levels of influent factors. 24-hour holter measured systolic blood pressure (SBP), diastolic blood pressure (DBP), and HR values were the first level which should then be nested in the second level (individual). 24-hour temperature and humidity variations were extracted, respectively, from Hanoi Hydrometeorology Department. All individual characteristics and risk behaviours were measured within 24 studying hours. Results. Temperature and humidity were major factors that influenced (74%-78%) the variation of BP and HR among the policemen population. When each of the Celsius degree temperature or percentage humidity increases, the SBP goes down by 0.44 (0.11-0.77) and by 0.2 (0.33-0.77), respectively, and the DBP goes down by 0.21 (-0.05-0.48) and by 0.12 (0.02-0.22), respectively, and vice versa. Interaction between temperature and humidity was significantly influent to SBP. The farther the time section from the first time section (0-6AM) the more the variation of the BP and HR. Transition from winter to summer made SBP and DBP decrease and vice versa. Individual characteristics including body mass index (BMI), bad life styles, and stress contributed 22% to 26% to the variation of BP and HR. Traffic policemen were at the greatest risks of the outdoor ambient variation in comparison with the firefighters and office-based policemen. Conclusion. Designing and equipping appropriate uniform and outdoor facilities could help to reduce influence of temperature and humidity variation in the outdoor workplace. Besides, training and educating programs that aimed at controlling BMI, risk behaviours, and stress for police taskforce, especially the traffic policemen, should be implemented.

As many Australian assets move from ‘project’ to ‘operate’, the challenge is to ‘sustainably optimise’ to provide value to shareholders and attract continued investment. There is an opportunity to learn the lessons of more mature regions and accelerate improvements now, rather than wait. The North Sea, Norway, Gulf of Mexico and Onshore USA provide insights and opportunities for improvement, from operator and supplier collaboration, through optimised operating models and the critical role of government and regulators in improving industry development. These opportunities require key Australian industry stakeholders to be adaptable. They require humility and strong listening skills, steady hands and a keen focus on long-term value. For example, the Efficiency Task Force of Oil & Gas UK launched the Industry Behaviours Charter in 2015, a collective commitment to encourage companies in the offshore industry to work effectively, efficiently and co-operatively. Forty companies signed up and that number continues to rise. Firms are sharing cost cutting initiatives under the Rapid Efficiency Exchange scheme. A second initiative encourages companies to share spare parts. Amec Foster Wheeler has brought in a More for Less scheme to eradicate processes that are superfluous to final outcomes. Operating costs across the UK North Sea dropped by 14% in 2016, operators saving over US$1.5 billion, and this progress continues. The OGA runs an asset stewardship program, sharing best practice across operators and encouraging collaboration. Collaboration there is itself maturing, still with a keen focus on cost reduction, but drivers now include sharing knowledge, new ideas and solutions, not just transferring risk.

The adequacy of police responses to intimate partner violence has long animated scholarly debate, review and legislative change. While there have been significant shifts in community recognition of and concern about intimate partner violence, particularly in the wake of the Victorian Royal Commission into Family Violence, it nonetheless remains a significant form of violence and harm across Australian communities and a key issue for police, as noted in the report and recommendations of the Royal Commission. This article draws on findings from semi-structured interviews (n = 163) with police in Victoria and pursues two key inter-related arguments. The first is that police attitudes towards incidents of intimate partner violence remain overwhelmingly negative. Despite innovations in policy and training, we suggest that this consistent dissatisfaction with intimate partner violence incidents as a policing task indicates a significant barrier, possibly insurmountable, to attempts to reform the policing of intimate partner violence via force-wide initiatives and the mobilisation of general duties for this purpose. Consequently, our second argument is that specialisation via a commitment to dedicated intimate partner violence units – implemented more consistently and comprehensively than Victoria Police has to date – extends the greatest promise for effective policing of intimate partner violence in the future.

In 1988 the Aboriginal Education Policy Task Force called for broad equity between Aboriginal people and other Australians in access, participation, and outcomes at all stages of education. Aboriginals are not achieving a comparative level of success at school compared to non-Aboriginals. Symptomatic of problems in our schools are, the over representation of Aboriginals in lower classes, the high drop-out rate of Aboriginal children and their low participation rates in the senior years of high school. Some 17% of Aboriginal youth continue their schooling to year 12 compared to 49% of all students (Department of Employment, Education and Training, 1988, p.7). The failure of Aboriginal children to achieve at school has been widely interpreted as an individual failure on the part of Aboriginal children. Poor attainment has been attributed to lower I.Q. and ability, inadequate home environments, and poor parenting and not to the inadequacies of the education provided, to prejudices Aboriginal children face or to the active resistance by Aboriginal people to the cultural destruction implicit in many educational programs (McConnochie, 1982, p.20). An examination of the determinants of school success shows that Aboriginal children’s cultural values, beliefs and practices and Australian schools are often in conflict. To improve the outcomes for Aboriginal children schools are required to assess whether or not they are catering for the inherent needs and talents of individual Aboriginal children.

For over half-a-century (1803–54), the Australian colony of Van Diemen's Land (Tasmania), played a key part in Britain's globe-spanning unfree diaspora. Today, a rich built and archaeological landscape, augmented by an exhaustive and relatively intact documentary archive, stand as eloquent markers to this convict legacy. As historical archaeologists, we have spent countless hours querying the physical and documentary residues in a bid to understand how the penological, social and economic imperatives of Britain and the colony shaped the management of convict labour. In particular, our task has centred upon the recovery of individual narratives – of both gaoler and gaoled – from such residues, moving away from a traditional focus on the broader outlines of the convict system. This paper illustrates how spatial history methodological processes have been used to relocate individual historic lives back into the convict industrial landscape of the Tasman Peninsula (Tasmania). Focusing on the male-only penal station of Port Arthur (1830–77), we will illustrate how we have reunited the physicality of past spaces and places, with the lives and labours of those who created and navigated them. Simple methodologies have been used to achieve this, designed with onward applicability in mind. A complex series of documents, convict conduct records, have been mined for spatial markers, allowing events and people to be relocated back into space. Through these processes of linkage and visualisation, we have been encouraged to ask further questions about the management of the unfree labour force and how this came to create the landscape we see today.

AbstractMarilyn Moffat, PT, PhD, FAPTA, CSCSDr Moffat has had a tremendous impact on the physical therapy profession as a visionary leader, a distinguished educator, and an accomplished clinician, administrator, and researcher. She has served as editor of Physical Therapy and, as an elected member of APTA's House of Delegates, has been instrumental in providing direction for the future of the profession. She has served as a member of innumerable committees, task forces, and boards of directors at every level within the Association. In 1991, she was elected President of APTA for the first of 2 consecutive terms.As President, Dr Moffat spearheaded the development of the Association's Guide to Physical Therapist Practice, and she later served as a project editor of the Guide's second edition and was heavily involved in the development of the Interactive Guide on CD-ROM. Dr Moffat has worked tirelessly since 1977, when she first spoke about the professional doctoral degree for physical therapists, to lead the profession through a process of redefining the role of the physical therapist for the future and ensuring that the highest level of practice would be achieved as a requisite for assuming the title “Doctor of Physical Therapy.”As a delegate to the World Confederation for Physical Therapy, Dr Moffat has provided leadership to the international community of physical therapists. She served as APTA's voting delegate to the WCPT General Meeting, on the Executive Committee of the WCPT as the North America/Caribbean Region representative, and as a member of the Task Force on the International Definition of Physical Therapy. Dr Moffat has given more than 800 professional presentations worldwide and has taught and consulted in Taiwan, Thailand, Burma, Puerto Rico, Vietnam, Hong Kong, and Wuhan in China. For her demonstrated worldwide leadership in physical therapy, she was honored with WCPT's Mildred Elson Award for International Leadership in Physical Therapy.Dr Moffat has been the recipient of many APTA honors and awards. She has been recognized with APTA's Lucy Blair Service Award and as a Catherine Worthingham Fellow. She has received 2 diversity awards from the Advisory Panel on Minority Affairs, the R Charles Harker Policy Maker Award from APTA's Health Policy and Administration Section, and the Robert Dicus Outstanding Service Award from APTA's Private Practice Section. The most significant acknowledgments of her lifelong commitment to service are the New York Chapter's Dr Marilyn Moffat Distinguished Service Award and APTA's newly created Marilyn Moffat Leadership Award.

This paper will discuss the recognition of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) in legal cases based on the historical development of the Diagnostic Statistical Manual for Mental Disorders (DSM). Further the discussion will draw on the diagnostic relationship between the DSM and the International Classification of Diseases (ICD). It is important to understand how the courts received evidence in relation to a person’s traumatic experience and to define the limits of liability for psychiatric illness cases. In tort law, the courts had been cautious to permit recovery to underserving litigants. Interpreting traumatic experiences from psychiatry to law, at times, do not succeed in a claim for compensation.  Belanger-Hardy opined ‘Tort Law has always viewed mental harm with caution, not to say scepticism’.  Historically, compensation for PTSD claims have always been awarded on ad hoc basis in tort law for fear of opening the floodgates.  In Saadati v Moorhead , Brown J acknowledged the requirement of a psychiatrist to diagnose a psychiatric disorder by referring to DSM and ICD classifications.  The diagnostic manual is a guide book and should be used with caution.  The DSM Manual also explains the concept of malingering and practitioners should be cautious when preparing an expert report to assist the court. It is argued the courts are trying to play catch up with psychiatry, however, in its deliberations pronouncing inappropriate policy decisions, hampering recovery for a deserving claimant in tort law.  Ultimately, Judges control the goal posts for awarding damages in trauma related cases.  Historically, PTSD was defined as railway spine, shell shock, traumatic neurosis, accident neurosis and fright neurosis. Medical science established there is a relationship between the mind and body and the mind can only function in the body. Therefore, if the mind is affected by an external factor, the psyche may become muddled to develop post traumatic symptoms. This paper will examine the method adopted by practitioners and judges in interpreting the manual. This is seen from a methodological assessment of diagnostic concordance in the light of inherent problems of psychiatric classifications and malingering. This assessment will ultimately relate to psychiatric classification of individual patients who are subjected to an intense trauma resulting in fear and helplessness. Hence, unable to relate to what had taken place and subsequently not able to realize that the psyche is muddled or disorganized. In the absence of an actual physical lesion, the courts have become sceptical and wary of extending the defendant’s liability to cover alleged damage such as psychiatric illness. The inherent fears are that evidence can be confabulated and based on false premise. Hence, the courts make a linguistic interpretation in view of the struggle between the law and psychiatric illness. Furthermore, the discussion will capture the essence of PTSD which was introduced in the 1970’s and adopted in DSM-III in 1980 by the American Psychiatric Association (APA). In 1992, PTSD was recognised as a diagnosis in the International Classifications of Diseases (ICD-10) in Europe under the rubric of Neurotic, Stress-related and Somatoform Disorders by the World Health Organization (WHO).  The DSM is a guidebook for mental health practitioners.  However the origins of PTSD lie further back than the twentieth century. The history can be traced through the experience of the American Civil War, First World War, Second World War and the Vietnam War where veterans who returned home suffered trauma because of devastating exposure to war. Their traumatic experiences were documented and translated as symptoms which were eventually associated with PTSD, as described in DSM-III. These traumatic experiences were observed in the civil and forensic setting.  Moreover, this paper will contain a summary of the historical development of the ICD and DSM classifications depicting war associated syndromes as they played a dominant role in shaping the early diagnostic thinking of WHO and APA. From 1840 to 1921, in the United States, data was collected by gathering statistical information across mental hospitals in order to produce a nationally acceptable psychiatric nomenclature.  In particular, a notable physician called Da Costa in the American Civil War gave the name ‘irritable heart’ to the symptoms suffered by some soldiers. Consequently, the statistical information was broadened to take account of and incorporate outpatient presentations from World Wars I and II veterans. This was known as ‘shell shock’ and ‘war neurosis’. War neurosis was further refined following World War II and the Vietnam War in terms of ‘trauma’. Contemporaneously in 1948, WHO adopted the Armed Forces categorisation based on Army, Navy and Veteran experiences in World War I and II, when it integrated mental disorders into the sixth revision of the ICD depicting an European model. Mental disorders were not introduced into the ICD until its sixth edition, published by WHO in 1948,  and therefore it is not pertinent to discuss ICD classifications from 1 to 5 editions for the purposes of mental illness.  Besides, this paper will explore the development of trauma as defined in the current understanding of PTSD. This development is necessary to show how the term ‘trauma’ was transformed into PTSD. Evidence is also drawn from the courts as to how PTSD is used in a legal setting. As was the case for DSM-I where a category called ‘gross stress reaction’  was recognized in 1952 and a diagnosis called ‘transient situational disturbance’ or ‘anxiety neurosis’  was declared in DSM-II in 1968. The development of DSM-III was coordinated with the ninth revision of ICD.  In 1980, DSM-III introduced PTSD for the first time. DSM-III made major changes in which the diagnosis of PTSD was formally introduced. DSM-III did not prescribe duration of the symptoms.  Similarly, ICD-9 did not include diagnostic criteria to specify mental categories and facilitate the collection of basic health statistics. In view of the incompatibility between ICD-9 and DSM-III, APA suggested that modifications to be made to ICD-9 for its use in the United States. The result was ICD-9-CM.  In 1987, DSM-III-R was introduced to refine the duration of symptoms. In 1992, WHO introduced the diagnosis of PTSD in ICD-10 and consequently the APA formed a task force to develop the DSM-IV in 1994. At the time, WHO was ready to publish ICD-10. The U.S. was under a treaty to maintain systems consistent with WHO and there was a desire to build a better empirical foundation, using 13 groups of researchers in field trials. Research in natural environment diagnoses in the United States and Canada used DSM-IV, whilst most countries officially use ICD-10 and now ICD-11adopted in 2019. In DSM-IV-TR of 2002, there was still doubt by psychiatrists as to whether PTSD is an anxiety disorder or a disorder in its own category. Refinement of DSM-IV-TR was undertaken in the current DSM-5 following research. In addition, issues related to malingering and methodology for the detection of malingering are explored. Such methodology will confirm evidence as to whether an individual malingers or not. In conclusion, this paper will look at the latest developments in the DSM Manual and by discussing how such a manual should be utilised effectively by the courts and psychiatrists.

In the movement of integration and development in Vietnam, universities are moving from centralized management to subsidized decentralization and strengthening the autonomy of universities to meet the goals of the innovation and integration phase. This paper would evaluate the international identity in Vietnam and at Vietnam National University, Hanoi (VNU) in the context of higher education autonomy. A number of policy factors affect international cooperation at the VNU; The role of scholarly exchanges for students, lecturers in the context of international integration; the impact of international affiliate programs to the internationalization of higher education at VNU. Keywords VNU, Vietnam, autonomy, internationalization, higher education References [1] N.V. Varghese, Michaela Martin, Governance reform in higher education: a study of institutional autonomy in Asian countries. Pg. 22. International institute for educational planning, 2014. [2] M. Kreysing, Autonomy, accountability, and organizational complexity in higher education: the Goettingen model of university reform, Journal of Educational Administration. 40(6) 2002) 552 Emerald Publishing Limited.[3] D. Anderson, R. Johnson, University Autonomy in Twenty Countries. Pg 20. Australia. Department of Employment, Education, Training and Youth Affairs, 1998.[4] P. Koudelková, W. Strielkowski, D. Hejlova, Corruption and System Change in the Czech Republic: Firm-level Evidence, Law and Economics Review. 6(1) (2015) 2546.[5] J.V. Thomas, Ben Wikinson, Vietnamese Higher education: Crisis and Response, Memoradum Higher Education Task Force Nov 2008, USA, Harvard Kenedy School, ASH Institue, 2008. [6] Pham Thi Thanh Hai, Autonomy and Accountability of Higher Education In the process of innovation and international integration in Vietnam. Vietnam. Science Journal, VNU Human and Social Sciences University. 3(1b) (2017) 87-97.[7] I. Moses, Institutional Autonomy Revisited: Autonomy Justified and Accounted, Higher Education Policy. 20 (2007) 261-274. [8] J. Knight, Internationalization brings important benefits as well as risks, International Higher education. 46 (2007) 8-10. [9] Vietnam National Assembly, Laws on Education, Educational Publishing House, 2005.[10] Vietnam National Assembly, Laws on Higher Education, Educational Publishing House, 2012.[11] Bui Tu, Đại học Ngoại thương: Thực hiện thí điểm tự chủ là cơ hội lớn, Financial Times. (2007http://thoibaotaichinhvietnam.vn/pages/nhip-song-tai-chinh/2017-08-11/dai-hoc-ngoai-thuong-thuc-hien-thi-diem-tu-chu-la-co-hoi-lon-46550.aspx)/, [12] Prime Minister, University Charter, Decree 58/2010/QĐ-TTg, 2010.[13] Prime Minister, University Charter, Decree 70/2010/QĐ-TTg, 2014.[14] Vietnam Government, Resolution 77/NQ-CP. Piloting innovative mechanisms of action for public higher education institutions during 2014-2017 period, 2014. [15] Vietnam Government, Socio-Economic Development Plan 2006-2010, Resolution No. 25/2006/NQ-CP, 2016.[16] Vietnam Government, Fundamentally and Comprehensively Innovation of Vietnam Higher Education, Resolution 14/2005/NQ-CP, 2005.[17] The Prime Minister, Approval of ‘scheme on using national budget to pay for training staffs conducting research on science and engineering working in foreign countries. Decision 322/2000/QĐ-TTg, 2000.[18] The Prime Minister, Approval of “scheme on training lecturers with PhD degree at universities and colleges in the period 2010-2020”, Decision 911/QĐ-TTg, 2010.[19] The Prime Minister, Approval of “scheme on using national budget to pay for training staffs in foreign countries in the period 2013-2020”, Decision 599/QĐ-TTg, 2013.

The development of English as the mutual language among ASEAN since 2008 and the formation of ASEAN Economic Community since 2015 have set milestones in the social and educational development of each country in this organisation. In English education in Vietnam, understanding the diversity of Englishes in the organisation has become an important task. This article aims to present a holistic view of World Englishes (WE) in research generally and in relation to English education in Vietnam particularly by illustrating the Vietnamese English teachers’ perceptions of WE in the Vietnamese teaching context. The data were collected via an online questionnaire using a snowball sampling method from seventy-six respondents who are English lecturers from twenty-six universities or colleges in Vietnam. The data were also collected from focus group interviews with fve participants who were doing Master Degree in Applied Linguistics at an Australian university. The article delineates the fndings of the Vietnamese English teachers’ perceptions towards WE and their experiences in introducing WE in their teaching context. Discussion of English education in Vietnam, including issues in English teaching, English teachers’ development and considerations of the policy context, is also be presented.

For many companies, shareholders are arguably the most importantstakeholders. By providing firms with capital via the purchase of shares, investorsexpect a profitable distribution of earnings, most commonly in the form ofdividends. Jurisdictions in different nations, such as Vietnam and Australia (theobjects of this statutory comparative analysis), have adopted various approachesregarding the taxation of company earnings and dividends, which may haveconsiderable economic and social implications. This paper conducts a rigorousanalysis which examines both the Australian and Vietnamese taxation rules ondividends, as well as evaluating whether the law in one country is preferable tothe other. The qualitative methodology employed was statutory case oriented evaluation which scrutinizes the operation of specific statutory policies, how those policies function comparatively, and the concomitant outcomes each respectivepolicy produces. The comparative case analysis demonstrates that Vietnam, as adeveloping economic force in Southeast Asia, can increase the allure of capitalinvestment by adopting dividend taxation laws more favorable to investors. Keywords - Taxation, Corporations Law, Dividends, Capital Investment, EconomicTheory, Foreign Trade, Economic Growth, Stimulus, Income Tax, DescriptiveResearch, Australia, Vietnam

On 23 August 2005, John Howard, then Prime Minister, called together Muslim ‘representatives’ from around the nation for a Muslim Summit in response to the London bombings in July of that year. One of the outcomes of the two hour summit was a Statement of Principles committing Muslim communities in Australia to resist radicalisation and pursue a ‘moderate’ Islam. Since then the ill-defined term ‘moderate Muslim’ has been used in both the political and media discourse to refer to a preferred form of Islamic practice that does not challenge the hegemony of the nation state and that is coherent with the principles of secularism. Akbarzadeh and Smith conclude that the terms ‘moderate’ and ‘mainstream’ are used to describe Muslims whom Australians should not fear in contrast to ‘extremists’. Ironically, the policy direction towards regulating the practice of Islam in Australia in favour of a state defined ‘moderate’ Islam signals an attempt by the state to mediate the practice of religion, undermining the ethos of secularism as it is expressed in the Australian Constitution. It also – arguably – impacts upon the citizenship rights of Australian Muslims in so far as citizenship presents not just as a formal set of rights accorded to an individual but also to democratic participation: the ability of citizens to enjoy those rights at a substantive level. Based on the findings of research into how Australian Muslims and members of the broader community are responding to the political and media discourses on terrorism, this article examines the impact of these discourses on how Muslims are practicing citizenship and re-defining an Australian Muslim identity. Free Speech Free speech has been a hallmark of liberal democracies ever since its defence became part of the First Amendment to the United States Constitution. The Australian Constitution does not expressly contain a provision for free speech. The right to free speech in Australia is implied in Australia’s ratification of the United Nations Universal Declaration of Human Rights (UDHR), article 19 of which affirms: Article 19. Everyone has the right to freedom of opinion and expression; this right includes freedom to hold opinions without interference and to seek, receive and impart information and ideas through any media and regardless of frontiers. The ultimate recent endorsement of free speech rights, arguably associated with the radical free speech ‘open platform’ movement of the 1960s at the University of California Berkeley, constructs free speech as essential to human and civil liberties. Its approach has been expressed in terms such as: “I reject and detest XYZ views but will defend to the utmost a person’s right to express them”. An active defence of free speech is based on the observation that, unless held to account, “[Authorities] would grant free speech to those with whom they agree, but not to minorities whom they consider unorthodox or threatening” (“Online Archives of California”). Such minorities, differing from the majority view, do so as a right accorded to citizens. In very challenging circumstances – such as opposing the Cold War operations of the US Senate Anti-American Activities Committee – the free speech movement has been celebrated as holding fast (or embodying a ‘return’) to the true meaning of the American First Amendment. It was in public statements of unpopular and minority views, which opposed those of the majority, that the right to free speech could most non-controvertibly be demonstrated. Some have argued that such rights should be balanced by anti-vilification legislation, by prohibitions upon incitement to violence, and by considerations as to whether the organisation defended by the speaker was banned. In the latter case, there can be problems with excluding the defence of banned organisations from legitimate debate. In the 1970s and 1980s, for example, Sinn Fein was denounced in the UK as the ‘political wing of the IRA’ (the IRA being a banned organisation) and denied a speaking position in many forums, yet has proved to be an important party in the eventual reconciliation of the Northern Ireland divide. In effect, the banning of an organisation is a political act and such acts should best be interrogated through free speech and democratic debate. Arguably, such disputation is a responsibility of an involved citizenry. In general, liberal democracies such as Australia do not hesitate to claim that citizens have a right to free speech and that this is a right worth defending. There is a legitimate expectation by Australians of their rights as citizens to freedom of expression. For some Australian Muslims, however, the appeal to free speech seems a hollow one. Muslim citizens run the risk of being constructed as ‘un-Australian’ when they articulate their concerns or opinions. Calls by some Muslim leaders not to reprint the Danish cartoons depicting images of the Prophet Mohammed for example, met with a broader community backlash and drew responses that, typically, constructed Muslims as a threat to Australian cultural values of freedom and liberty. These kinds of responses to expressions by Australian Muslims of their deeply held convictions are rarely, if ever, interpreted as attempts to curtail Australian Muslims’ rights to free speech. There is a poor fit between what many Australian Muslims believe and what they feel the current climate in Australia allows them to say in the public domain. Positioned as the potential ‘enemy within’ in the evolving media and political discourse post September 11, they have been allocated restricted speaking positions on many subjects from the role and training of their Imams to the right to request Sharia courts (which could operate in parallel with Australian courts in the same way that Catholic divorce/annulment courts do). These social and political restrictions lead them to question whether Muslims enjoy citizenship rights on an equal footing with Australians from the broader community. The following comment from an Australian woman, an Iraqi refugee, made in a research interview demonstrates this: The media say that if you are Australian it means that you enjoy freedom, you enjoy the rights of citizenship. That is the idea of what it means to be Australian, that you do those things. But if you are a Muslim, you are not Australian. You are a people who are dangerous, a people who are suspicious, a people who do not want democracy—all the characteristics that make up terrorists. So yes, there is a difference, a big difference. And it is a feeling all Muslims have, not just me, whether you are at school, at work, and especially if you wear the hijab. (Translated from Arabic by Anne Aly) At the same time, Australian Muslims observe some members of the broader community making strong assertions about Muslims (often based on misunderstanding or misinformation) with very little in the way of censure or rebuke. For example, again in 2005, Liberal backbenchers Sophie Panopoulos and Bronwyn Bishop made an emotive plea for the banning of headscarves in public schools, drawing explicitly on the historically inherited image of Islam as a violent, backward and oppressive ideology that has no place in Western liberal democracy: I fear a frightening Islamic class emerging, supported by a perverse interpretation of the Koran where disenchantment breeds disengagement, where powerful and subversive orthodoxies are inculcated into passionate and impressionable young Muslims, where the Islamic mosque becomes the breeding ground for violence and rejection of Australian law and ideals, where extremists hijack the Islamic faith with their own prescriptive and unbending version of the Koran and where extremist views are given currency and validity … . Why should one section of the community be stuck in the Dark Ages of compliance cloaked under a veil of some distorted form of religious freedom? (Panopoulos) Several studies attest to the fact that, since the terrorist attacks in the United States in September 2001, Islam, and by association Australian Muslims, have been positioned as other in the political and media discourse (see for example Aly). The construct of Muslims as ‘out of place’ (Saniotis) denies them entry and representation in the public sphere: a key requisite for democratic participation according to Habermas (cited in Haas). This notion of a lack of a context for Muslim citizenship in Australian public spheres arises out of the popular construction of ‘Muslim’ and ‘Australian’ as mutually exclusive modes of being. Denied access to public spaces to partake in democratic dialogue as political citizens, Australian Muslims must pursue alternative communicative spaces. Some respond by limiting their expressions to closed spheres of communication – a kind of enforced silence. Others respond by pursuing alternative media discourses that challenge the dominant stereotypes of Muslims in Western media and reinforce majority-world cultural views. Enforced Silence In closed spheres of discussion, Australian Muslims can openly share their perceptions about terrorism, the government and media. Speaking openly in public however, is not common practice and results in forced silence for fear of reprisal or being branded a terrorist: “if we jump up and go ‘oh how dare you say this, rah, rah’, he’ll be like ‘oh he’s going to go off, he’ll blow something up’”. One research participant recalled that when his work colleagues were discussing the September 11 attacks he decided not to partake in the conversation because it “might be taken against me”. The participant made this decision despite the fact that his colleagues were expressing the opinion that United States foreign policy was the likely cause for the attacks—an opinion with which he agreed. This suggests some support for the theory that the fear of social isolation may make Australian Muslims especially anxious or fearful of expressing opinions about terrorism in public discussions (Noelle-Neumann). However, it also suggests that the fear of social isolation for Muslims is not solely related to the expression of minority opinion, as theorised in Noelle-Neumann’s Spiral of Silence . Given that many members of the wider community shared the theory that the attacks on the Pentagon and the World Trade Centre in 2001 may have been a response to American foreign policy, this may well not be a minority view. Nonetheless, Australian Muslims hesitated to embrace it. Saniotis draws attention to the pressure on Australian Muslims to publicly distance themselves from the terrorist attacks of September 11 and to openly denounce the actions of terrorists. The extent to which Muslims were positioned as a threatening other was contingent on their ability to demonstrate that they too participated in the distal responses to the terrorist attacks—initial pity for the sufferer and eventual marginalisation and rejection of the perceived aggressor. Australian Muslims were obliged to declare their loyalty and commitment to Australia’s ally and, in this way, partake in the nationalistic responses to the threat of terrorism. At the same time however, Australian Muslims were positioned as an imagined enemy and a threat to national identity. Australian Muslims were therefore placed in a paradoxical bind- as Australians they were expected to respond as the victims of fear; as Muslims they were positioned as the objects of fear. Even in discussions where their opinions are congruent with the dominant opinion being expressed, Australian Muslims describe themselves as feeling apprehensive or anxious about expressing their opinions because of how these “might be taken”. Pursuing alternative discourses The overriding message from the research project’s Muslim participants was that the media, as a powerful purveyor of public opinion, had inculcated a perception of Muslims as a risk to Australia and Australians: an ‘enemy within’; the potential ‘home grown terrorist’. The daily experience of visibly-different Australian Muslims, however, is that they are more fearing than fear-inspiring. The Aly and Balnaves fear scale indicates that Australian Muslims have twice as many fear indicators as non-Muslims Australians. Disengagement from Western media and media that is seen to be influenced or controlled by the West is widespread among Australian Muslims who increasingly argue that the media institutions are motivated by an agenda that includes profit and the perpetuation of a negative stereotype of Muslims both in Australia and around the globe, particularly in relation to Middle Eastern affairs. The negative stereotypes of Muslims in the Australian media have inculcated a sense of victimhood which Muslims in Australia have used as the basis for a reconstruction of their identity and the creation of alternative narratives of belonging (Aly). Central to the notion of identity among Australian Muslims is a sense of having their citizenship rights curtailed by virtue of their faith: of being included in a general Western dismissal of Muslims’ rights and experiences. As one interviewee said: If you look at the Channel Al Jazeera for example, it’s a channel but they aren’t making up stories, they are taping videos in Iraqi, Palestine and other Muslim countries, and they just show it to people, that’s all they do. And then George Bush, you know, we hear on the news that George Bush was discussing with Tony Blair that he was thinking to bomb Al Jazeera so why would these people have their right to freedom and we don’t? So that’s why I think the people who are in power, they have the control over the media, and it’s a big political game. Because if it wasn’t then George Bush, he’s the symbol of politics, why would he want to bomb Al Jazeera for example? Amidst leaks and rumours (Timms) that the 2003 US bombing of Al Jazeera was a deliberate attack upon one of the few elements of the public sphere in which some Western-nationality Muslims have confidence, many elements of the mainstream Western media rose to Al Jazeera’s defence. For example, using an appeal to the right of citizens to engage in and consume free speech, the editors of influential US paper The Nation commented that: If the classified memo detailing President Bush’s alleged proposal to bomb the headquarters of Al Jazeera is provided to The Nation, we will publish the relevant sections. Why is it so vital that this information be made available to the American people? Because if a President who claims to be using the US military to liberate countries in order to spread freedom then conspires to destroy media that fail to echo his sentiments, he does not merely disgrace his office and soil the reputation of his country. He attacks a fundamental principle, freedom of the press—particularly a dissenting and disagreeable press—upon which that country was founded. (cited in Scahill) For other Australian Muslims, it is the fact that some media organisations have been listed as banned by the US that gives them their ultimate credibility. This is the case with Al Manar, for example. Feeling that they are denied access to public spaces to partake in democratic dialogue as equal political citizens, Australian Muslims are pursuing alternative communicative spaces that support and reinforce their own cultural worldviews. The act of engaging with marginalised and alternative communicative spaces constitutes what Clifford terms ‘collective practices of displaced dwelling’. It is through these practices of displaced dwelling that Australian Muslims essentialise their diasporic identity and negotiate new identities based on common perceptions of injustice against Muslims. But you look at Al Jazeera they talk in the same tongue as the Western media in our language. And then you look again at something like Al Manar who talks of their own tongue. They do not use the other media’s ideas. They have been attacked by the Australians, been attacked by the Israelis and they have their own opinion. This statement came from an Australian Muslim of Jordanian background in her late forties. It reflects a growing trend towards engaging with media messages that coincide with and reinforce a sense of injustice. The Al Manar television station to which this participant refers is a Lebanese based station run by the militant Hezbollah movement and accessible to Australians via satellite. Much like Al Jazeera, Al Manar broadcasts images of Iraqi and Palestinian suffering and, in the recent war between Israel and Hezbollah, graphic images of Lebanese casualties of Israeli air strikes. Unlike the Al Jazeera broadcasts, these images are formatted into video clips accompanied by music and lyrics such as “we do not fear America”. Despite political pressure including a decision by the US to list Al Manar as a terrorist organisation in December 2004, just one week after a French ban on the station because its programming had “a militant perspective with anti-Semitic connotations” (Jorisch), Al Manar continued to broadcast videos depicting the US as the “mother of terrorism”. In one particularly graphic sequence, the Statue of Liberty rises from the depths of the sea, wielding a knife in place of the torch and dripping in blood, her face altered to resemble a skull. As she rises out of the sea accompanied by music resembling a funeral march the following words in Arabic are emblazoned across the screen: On the dead bodies of millions of native Americans And through the enslavement of tens of millions Africans The US rose It pried into the affairs of most countries in the world After an extensive list of countries impacted by US foreign policy including China, Japan, Congo, Vietnam, Peru, Laos, Libya and Guatamala, the video comes to a gruelling halt with the words ‘America owes blood to all of humanity’. Another video juxtaposes images of Bush with Hitler with the caption ‘History repeats itself’. One website run by the Coalition against Media Terrorism refers to Al Manar as ‘the beacon of hatred’ and applauds the decisions by the French and US governments to ban the station. Al Manar defended itself against the bans stating on its website that they are attempts “to terrorise and silence thoughts that are not in line with the US and Israeli policies.” The station claims that it continues on its mission “to carry the message of defending our peoples’ rights, holy places and just causes…within internationally agreed professional laws and standards”. The particular brand of propaganda employed by Al Manar is gaining popularity among some Muslims in Australia largely because it affirms their own views and opinions and offers them opportunities to engage in an alternative public space in which Muslims are positioned as the victims and not the aggressors. Renegotiating an ‘Othered’ Identity The negative portrayal of Muslims as ‘other’ in the Australian media and in political discourse has resulted in Australian Muslims constructing alternative identities based on a common perception of injustice. Particularly since the terrorist attacks on the World Trade Centre in September 2001 and the ensuing “war on terror”, the ethnic divisions within the Muslim diaspora are becoming less significant as Australian Muslims reconstruct their identity based on a notion of supporting each other in the face of a global alliance against Islam. Religious identity is increasingly becoming the identity of choice for Muslims in Australia. This causes problems, however, since religious identity has no place in the liberal democratic model, which espouses secularism. This is particularly the case where that religion is sometimes constructed as being at odds with the principles and values of liberal democracy; namely tolerance and adherence to the rule of law. This problematic creates a context in which Muslim Australians are not only denied their heterogeneity in the media and political discourse but are dealt with through an understanding of Islam that is constructed on the basis of a cultural and ideological clash between Islam and the West. Religion has become the sole and only characteristic by which Muslims are recognised, denying them political citizenship and access to the public spaces of citizenship. Such ‘essentialising practices’ as eliding considerable diversity into a single descriptor serves to reinforce and consolidate diasporic identity among Muslims in Australia, but does little to promote and assist participatory citizenship or to equip Muslims with the tools necessary to access the public sphere as political citizens of the secular state. In such circumstances, the moderate Muslim may be not so much a ‘preferred’ citizen as one whose rights has been constrained. Acknowledgment This paper is based on the findings of an Australian Research Council Discovery Project, 2005-7, involving 10 focus groups and 60 in-depth interviews. The authors wish to acknowledge the participation and contributions of WA community members. References Akbarzadeh, Shahram, and Bianca Smith. The Representation of Islam and Muslims in the Media (The Age and Herald Sun Newspapers). Melbourne: Monash University, 2005. Aly, Anne, and Mark Balnaves. ”‘They Want Us to Be Afraid’: Developing Metrics of the Fear of Terrorism.” International Journal of Diversity in Organisations, Communities and Nations 6 (2007): 113-122. Aly, Anne. “Australian Muslim Responses to the Discourse on Terrorism in the Australian Popular Media.” Australian Journal of Social Issues 42.1 (2007): 27-40. Clifford, James. Routes: Travel and Translation in the Late Twentieth Century. London: Harvard UP, 1997. Haas, Tanni. “The Public Sphere as a Sphere of Publics: Rethinking Habermas’s Theory of the Public Sphere.” Journal of Communication 54.1 (2004): 178- 84. Jorisch, Avi. J. “Al-Manar and the War in Iraq.” Middle East Intelligence Bulletin 5.2 (2003). Noelle-Neumann, Elisabeth. “The Spiral of Silence: A Theory of Public Opinion.” Journal of Communication 24.2 (1974): 43-52. “Online Archives of California”. California Digital Library. n.d. Feb. 2008 < http://content.cdlib.org/ark:/13030/kt1199n498/?&query= %22open%20platform%22&brand=oac&hit.rank=1 >. Panopoulos, Sophie. Parliamentary debate, 5 Sep. 2005. Feb. 2008 < http://www.aph.gov.au.hansard >. Saniotis, Arthur. “Embodying Ambivalence: Muslim Australians as ‘Other’.” Journal of Australian Studies 82 (2004): 49-58. Scahill, Jeremy. “The War on Al-Jazeera (Comment)”. 2005. The Nation. Feb. 2008 < http://www.thenation.com/doc/20051219/scahill >. Timms, Dominic. “Al-Jazeera Seeks Answers over Bombing Memo”. 2005. Media Guardian. Feb. 2008 < http://www.guardian.co.uk/media/2005/nov/23/iraq.iraqandthemedia >.

On 23 August 2005, John Howard, then Prime Minister, called together Muslim ‘representatives’ from around the nation for a Muslim Summit in response to the London bombings in July of that year. One of the outcomes of the two hour summit was a Statement of Principles committing Muslim communities in Australia to resist radicalisation and pursue a ‘moderate’ Islam. Since then the ill-defined term ‘moderate Muslim’ has been used in both the political and media discourse to refer to a preferred form of Islamic practice that does not challenge the hegemony of the nation state and that is coherent with the principles of secularism. Akbarzadeh and Smith conclude that the terms ‘moderate’ and ‘mainstream’ are used to describe Muslims whom Australians should not fear in contrast to ‘extremists’. Ironically, the policy direction towards regulating the practice of Islam in Australia in favour of a state defined ‘moderate’ Islam signals an attempt by the state to mediate the practice of religion, undermining the ethos of secularism as it is expressed in the Australian Constitution. It also – arguably – impacts upon the citizenship rights of Australian Muslims in so far as citizenship presents not just as a formal set of rights accorded to an individual but also to democratic participation: the ability of citizens to enjoy those rights at a substantive level. Based on the findings of research into how Australian Muslims and members of the broader community are responding to the political and media discourses on terrorism, this article examines the impact of these discourses on how Muslims are practicing citizenship and re-defining an Australian Muslim identity. Free Speech Free speech has been a hallmark of liberal democracies ever since its defence became part of the First Amendment to the United States Constitution. The Australian Constitution does not expressly contain a provision for free speech. The right to free speech in Australia is implied in Australia’s ratification of the United Nations Universal Declaration of Human Rights (UDHR), article 19 of which affirms: Article 19. Everyone has the right to freedom of opinion and expression; this right includes freedom to hold opinions without interference and to seek, receive and impart information and ideas through any media and regardless of frontiers. The ultimate recent endorsement of free speech rights, arguably associated with the radical free speech ‘open platform’ movement of the 1960s at the University of California Berkeley, constructs free speech as essential to human and civil liberties. Its approach has been expressed in terms such as: “I reject and detest XYZ views but will defend to the utmost a person’s right to express them”. An active defence of free speech is based on the observation that, unless held to account, “[Authorities] would grant free speech to those with whom they agree, but not to minorities whom they consider unorthodox or threatening” (“Online Archives of California”). Such minorities, differing from the majority view, do so as a right accorded to citizens. In very challenging circumstances – such as opposing the Cold War operations of the US Senate Anti-American Activities Committee – the free speech movement has been celebrated as holding fast (or embodying a ‘return’) to the true meaning of the American First Amendment. It was in public statements of unpopular and minority views, which opposed those of the majority, that the right to free speech could most non-controvertibly be demonstrated. Some have argued that such rights should be balanced by anti-vilification legislation, by prohibitions upon incitement to violence, and by considerations as to whether the organisation defended by the speaker was banned. In the latter case, there can be problems with excluding the defence of banned organisations from legitimate debate. In the 1970s and 1980s, for example, Sinn Fein was denounced in the UK as the ‘political wing of the IRA’ (the IRA being a banned organisation) and denied a speaking position in many forums, yet has proved to be an important party in the eventual reconciliation of the Northern Ireland divide. In effect, the banning of an organisation is a political act and such acts should best be interrogated through free speech and democratic debate. Arguably, such disputation is a responsibility of an involved citizenry. In general, liberal democracies such as Australia do not hesitate to claim that citizens have a right to free speech and that this is a right worth defending. There is a legitimate expectation by Australians of their rights as citizens to freedom of expression. For some Australian Muslims, however, the appeal to free speech seems a hollow one. Muslim citizens run the risk of being constructed as ‘un-Australian’ when they articulate their concerns or opinions. Calls by some Muslim leaders not to reprint the Danish cartoons depicting images of the Prophet Mohammed for example, met with a broader community backlash and drew responses that, typically, constructed Muslims as a threat to Australian cultural values of freedom and liberty. These kinds of responses to expressions by Australian Muslims of their deeply held convictions are rarely, if ever, interpreted as attempts to curtail Australian Muslims’ rights to free speech. There is a poor fit between what many Australian Muslims believe and what they feel the current climate in Australia allows them to say in the public domain. Positioned as the potential ‘enemy within’ in the evolving media and political discourse post September 11, they have been allocated restricted speaking positions on many subjects from the role and training of their Imams to the right to request Sharia courts (which could operate in parallel with Australian courts in the same way that Catholic divorce/annulment courts do). These social and political restrictions lead them to question whether Muslims enjoy citizenship rights on an equal footing with Australians from the broader community. The following comment from an Australian woman, an Iraqi refugee, made in a research interview demonstrates this: The media say that if you are Australian it means that you enjoy freedom, you enjoy the rights of citizenship. That is the idea of what it means to be Australian, that you do those things. But if you are a Muslim, you are not Australian. You are a people who are dangerous, a people who are suspicious, a people who do not want democracy—all the characteristics that make up terrorists. So yes, there is a difference, a big difference. And it is a feeling all Muslims have, not just me, whether you are at school, at work, and especially if you wear the hijab. (Translated from Arabic by Anne Aly) At the same time, Australian Muslims observe some members of the broader community making strong assertions about Muslims (often based on misunderstanding or misinformation) with very little in the way of censure or rebuke. For example, again in 2005, Liberal backbenchers Sophie Panopoulos and Bronwyn Bishop made an emotive plea for the banning of headscarves in public schools, drawing explicitly on the historically inherited image of Islam as a violent, backward and oppressive ideology that has no place in Western liberal democracy: I fear a frightening Islamic class emerging, supported by a perverse interpretation of the Koran where disenchantment breeds disengagement, where powerful and subversive orthodoxies are inculcated into passionate and impressionable young Muslims, where the Islamic mosque becomes the breeding ground for violence and rejection of Australian law and ideals, where extremists hijack the Islamic faith with their own prescriptive and unbending version of the Koran and where extremist views are given currency and validity … . Why should one section of the community be stuck in the Dark Ages of compliance cloaked under a veil of some distorted form of religious freedom? (Panopoulos) Several studies attest to the fact that, since the terrorist attacks in the United States in September 2001, Islam, and by association Australian Muslims, have been positioned as other in the political and media discourse (see for example Aly). The construct of Muslims as ‘out of place’ (Saniotis) denies them entry and representation in the public sphere: a key requisite for democratic participation according to Habermas (cited in Haas). This notion of a lack of a context for Muslim citizenship in Australian public spheres arises out of the popular construction of ‘Muslim’ and ‘Australian’ as mutually exclusive modes of being. Denied access to public spaces to partake in democratic dialogue as political citizens, Australian Muslims must pursue alternative communicative spaces. Some respond by limiting their expressions to closed spheres of communication – a kind of enforced silence. Others respond by pursuing alternative media discourses that challenge the dominant stereotypes of Muslims in Western media and reinforce majority-world cultural views. Enforced Silence In closed spheres of discussion, Australian Muslims can openly share their perceptions about terrorism, the government and media. Speaking openly in public however, is not common practice and results in forced silence for fear of reprisal or being branded a terrorist: “if we jump up and go ‘oh how dare you say this, rah, rah’, he’ll be like ‘oh he’s going to go off, he’ll blow something up’”. One research participant recalled that when his work colleagues were discussing the September 11 attacks he decided not to partake in the conversation because it “might be taken against me”. The participant made this decision despite the fact that his colleagues were expressing the opinion that United States foreign policy was the likely cause for the attacks—an opinion with which he agreed. This suggests some support for the theory that the fear of social isolation may make Australian Muslims especially anxious or fearful of expressing opinions about terrorism in public discussions (Noelle-Neumann). However, it also suggests that the fear of social isolation for Muslims is not solely related to the expression of minority opinion, as theorised in Noelle-Neumann’s Spiral of Silence . Given that many members of the wider community shared the theory that the attacks on the Pentagon and the World Trade Centre in 2001 may have been a response to American foreign policy, this may well not be a minority view. Nonetheless, Australian Muslims hesitated to embrace it. Saniotis draws attention to the pressure on Australian Muslims to publicly distance themselves from the terrorist attacks of September 11 and to openly denounce the actions of terrorists. The extent to which Muslims were positioned as a threatening other was contingent on their ability to demonstrate that they too participated in the distal responses to the terrorist attacks—initial pity for the sufferer and eventual marginalisation and rejection of the perceived aggressor. Australian Muslims were obliged to declare their loyalty and commitment to Australia’s ally and, in this way, partake in the nationalistic responses to the threat of terrorism. At the same time however, Australian Muslims were positioned as an imagined enemy and a threat to national identity. Australian Muslims were therefore placed in a paradoxical bind- as Australians they were expected to respond as the victims of fear; as Muslims they were positioned as the objects of fear. Even in discussions where their opinions are congruent with the dominant opinion being expressed, Australian Muslims describe themselves as feeling apprehensive or anxious about expressing their opinions because of how these “might be taken”. Pursuing alternative discourses The overriding message from the research project’s Muslim participants was that the media, as a powerful purveyor of public opinion, had inculcated a perception of Muslims as a risk to Australia and Australians: an ‘enemy within’; the potential ‘home grown terrorist’. The daily experience of visibly-different Australian Muslims, however, is that they are more fearing than fear-inspiring. The Aly and Balnaves fear scale indicates that Australian Muslims have twice as many fear indicators as non-Muslims Australians. Disengagement from Western media and media that is seen to be influenced or controlled by the West is widespread among Australian Muslims who increasingly argue that the media institutions are motivated by an agenda that includes profit and the perpetuation of a negative stereotype of Muslims both in Australia and around the globe, particularly in relation to Middle Eastern affairs. The negative stereotypes of Muslims in the Australian media have inculcated a sense of victimhood which Muslims in Australia have used as the basis for a reconstruction of their identity and the creation of alternative narratives of belonging (Aly). Central to the notion of identity among Australian Muslims is a sense of having their citizenship rights curtailed by virtue of their faith: of being included in a general Western dismissal of Muslims’ rights and experiences. As one interviewee said: If you look at the Channel Al Jazeera for example, it’s a channel but they aren’t making up stories, they are taping videos in Iraqi, Palestine and other Muslim countries, and they just show it to people, that’s all they do. And then George Bush, you know, we hear on the news that George Bush was discussing with Tony Blair that he was thinking to bomb Al Jazeera so why would these people have their right to freedom and we don’t? So that’s why I think the people who are in power, they have the control over the media, and it’s a big political game. Because if it wasn’t then George Bush, he’s the symbol of politics, why would he want to bomb Al Jazeera for example? Amidst leaks and rumours (Timms) that the 2003 US bombing of Al Jazeera was a deliberate attack upon one of the few elements of the public sphere in which some Western-nationality Muslims have confidence, many elements of the mainstream Western media rose to Al Jazeera’s defence. For example, using an appeal to the right of citizens to engage in and consume free speech, the editors of influential US paper The Nation commented that: If the classified memo detailing President Bush’s alleged proposal to bomb the headquarters of Al Jazeera is provided to The Nation, we will publish the relevant sections. Why is it so vital that this information be made available to the American people? Because if a President who claims to be using the US military to liberate countries in order to spread freedom then conspires to destroy media that fail to echo his sentiments, he does not merely disgrace his office and soil the reputation of his country. He attacks a fundamental principle, freedom of the press—particularly a dissenting and disagreeable press—upon which that country was founded. (cited in Scahill) For other Australian Muslims, it is the fact that some media organisations have been listed as banned by the US that gives them their ultimate credibility. This is the case with Al Manar, for example. Feeling that they are denied access to public spaces to partake in democratic dialogue as equal political citizens, Australian Muslims are pursuing alternative communicative spaces that support and reinforce their own cultural worldviews. The act of engaging with marginalised and alternative communicative spaces constitutes what Clifford terms ‘collective practices of displaced dwelling’. It is through these practices of displaced dwelling that Australian Muslims essentialise their diasporic identity and negotiate new identities based on common perceptions of injustice against Muslims. But you look at Al Jazeera they talk in the same tongue as the Western media in our language. And then you look again at something like Al Manar who talks of their own tongue. They do not use the other media’s ideas. They have been attacked by the Australians, been attacked by the Israelis and they have their own opinion. This statement came from an Australian Muslim of Jordanian background in her late forties. It reflects a growing trend towards engaging with media messages that coincide with and reinforce a sense of injustice. The Al Manar television station to which this participant refers is a Lebanese based station run by the militant Hezbollah movement and accessible to Australians via satellite. Much like Al Jazeera, Al Manar broadcasts images of Iraqi and Palestinian suffering and, in the recent war between Israel and Hezbollah, graphic images of Lebanese casualties of Israeli air strikes. Unlike the Al Jazeera broadcasts, these images are formatted into video clips accompanied by music and lyrics such as “we do not fear America”. Despite political pressure including a decision by the US to list Al Manar as a terrorist organisation in December 2004, just one week after a French ban on the station because its programming had “a militant perspective with anti-Semitic connotations” (Jorisch), Al Manar continued to broadcast videos depicting the US as the “mother of terrorism”. In one particularly graphic sequence, the Statue of Liberty rises from the depths of the sea, wielding a knife in place of the torch and dripping in blood, her face altered to resemble a skull. As she rises out of the sea accompanied by music resembling a funeral march the following words in Arabic are emblazoned across the screen: On the dead bodies of millions of native Americans And through the enslavement of tens of millions Africans The US rose It pried into the affairs of most countries in the world After an extensive list of countries impacted by US foreign policy including China, Japan, Congo, Vietnam, Peru, Laos, Libya and Guatamala, the video comes to a gruelling halt with the words ‘America owes blood to all of humanity’. Another video juxtaposes images of Bush with Hitler with the caption ‘History repeats itself’. One website run by the Coalition against Media Terrorism refers to Al Manar as ‘the beacon of hatred’ and applauds the decisions by the French and US governments to ban the station. Al Manar defended itself against the bans stating on its website that they are attempts “to terrorise and silence thoughts that are not in line with the US and Israeli policies.” The station claims that it continues on its mission “to carry the message of defending our peoples’ rights, holy places and just causes…within internationally agreed professional laws and standards”. The particular brand of propaganda employed by Al Manar is gaining popularity among some Muslims in Australia largely because it affirms their own views and opinions and offers them opportunities to engage in an alternative public space in which Muslims are positioned as the victims and not the aggressors. Renegotiating an ‘Othered’ Identity The negative portrayal of Muslims as ‘other’ in the Australian media and in political discourse has resulted in Australian Muslims constructing alternative identities based on a common perception of injustice. Particularly since the terrorist attacks on the World Trade Centre in September 2001 and the ensuing “war on terror”, the ethnic divisions within the Muslim diaspora are becoming less significant as Australian Muslims reconstruct their identity based on a notion of supporting each other in the face of a global alliance against Islam. Religious identity is increasingly becoming the identity of choice for Muslims in Australia. This causes problems, however, since religious identity has no place in the liberal democratic model, which espouses secularism. This is particularly the case where that religion is sometimes constructed as being at odds with the principles and values of liberal democracy; namely tolerance and adherence to the rule of law. This problematic creates a context in which Muslim Australians are not only denied their heterogeneity in the media and political discourse but are dealt with through an understanding of Islam that is constructed on the basis of a cultural and ideological clash between Islam and the West. Religion has become the sole and only characteristic by which Muslims are recognised, denying them political citizenship and access to the public spaces of citizenship. Such ‘essentialising practices’ as eliding considerable diversity into a single descriptor serves to reinforce and consolidate diasporic identity among Muslims in Australia, but does little to promote and assist participatory citizenship or to equip Muslims with the tools necessary to access the public sphere as political citizens of the secular state. In such circumstances, the moderate Muslim may be not so much a ‘preferred’ citizen as one whose rights has been constrained. Acknowledgment This paper is based on the findings of an Australian Research Council Discovery Project, 2005-7, involving 10 focus groups and 60 in-depth interviews. The authors wish to acknowledge the participation and contributions of WA community members. References Akbarzadeh, Shahram, and Bianca Smith. The Representation of Islam and Muslims in the Media (The Age and Herald Sun Newspapers). Melbourne: Monash University, 2005. Aly, Anne, and Mark Balnaves. ”‘They Want Us to Be Afraid’: Developing Metrics of the Fear of Terrorism.” International Journal of Diversity in Organisations, Communities and Nations 6 (2007): 113-122. Aly, Anne. “Australian Muslim Responses to the Discourse on Terrorism in the Australian Popular Media.” Australian Journal of Social Issues 42.1 (2007): 27-40. Clifford, James. Routes: Travel and Translation in the Late Twentieth Century. London: Harvard UP, 1997. Haas, Tanni. “The Public Sphere as a Sphere of Publics: Rethinking Habermas’s Theory of the Public Sphere.” Journal of Communication 54.1 (2004): 178- 84. Jorisch, Avi. J. “Al-Manar and the War in Iraq.” Middle East Intelligence Bulletin 5.2 (2003). Noelle-Neumann, Elisabeth. “The Spiral of Silence: A Theory of Public Opinion.” Journal of Communication 24.2 (1974): 43-52. “Online Archives of California”. California Digital Library. n.d. Feb. 2008 http://content.cdlib.org/ark:/13030/kt1199n498/?&query= %22open%20platform%22&brand=oac&hit.rank=1>. Panopoulos, Sophie. Parliamentary debate, 5 Sep. 2005. Feb. 2008 http://www.aph.gov.au.hansard>. Saniotis, Arthur. “Embodying Ambivalence: Muslim Australians as ‘Other’.” Journal of Australian Studies 82 (2004): 49-58. Scahill, Jeremy. “The War on Al-Jazeera (Comment)”. 2005. The Nation. Feb. 2008 http://www.thenation.com/doc/20051219/scahill>. Timms, Dominic. “Al-Jazeera Seeks Answers over Bombing Memo”. 2005. Media Guardian. Feb. 2008 http://www.guardian.co.uk/media/2005/nov/23/iraq.iraqandthemedia>. Citation reference for this article MLA Style Aly, Anne, and Lelia Green. "‘Moderate Islam’: Defining the Good Citizen." M/C Journal 10.6/11.1 (2008). echo date('d M. Y'); ?> <http://journal.media-culture.org.au/0804/08-aly-green.php>. APA Style Aly, A., and L. Green. (Apr. 2008) "‘Moderate Islam’: Defining the Good Citizen," M/C Journal, 10(6)/11(1). Retrieved echo date('d M. Y'); ?> from <http://journal.media-culture.org.au/0804/08-aly-green.php>.

Australian GPs Register with E-health Service. Medical Research and Education Precinct Launched. Another Soy Sauce Found to Contain Cancerous Chemical. Antibiotic-free Milk Available in Shanghai Soon. Major Life Sciences Park Launched in East China. China Launches Major Biodiversity Programs. India Working on DNA Park. AHA Gives Apollo Hospitals Global Recognition. Agreement to Share Rice Genome Data. Increase in Plant Gene Technology Funding. Liggins Institute Programs Win Big Grants. Meningococcal Vaccine to Combat Epidemic. First Anti-aging Medicine Conference in Asia Pacific. Global Harmonization Task Force on Medical Devices. Bioscience Asia Forum Held in Taipei.

Released in 2007, Ridley Scott’s American Gangster tracks the career of Frank Lucas (Denzel Washington), who dominated the Harlem drug trade in the 1960s and 70s through his monopoly over heroin, which he imported directly from Vietnam and Thailand. The film follows the character of Detective Richie Roberts (Russell Crowe), who led the police task force ultimately responsible for toppling Lucas’ regime. This paper investigates the historical validity of the film, taking into consideration the consultant role Roberts and Lucas adopted during production alongside the political implications of Scott’s decision to cinematize (and so implicitly condone) the life of a convicted drug lord and accused murderer. It examines both filmic elements of music, casting and cinematography as well sociological concerns of race, space, masculinity and class in order to determine whether the film realistically portrays the lived experience of gang members and Harlem residents alike. Moreover, it considers the film’s political backdrop and its engagement with events like the Vietnam War, the Civil Rights Movement and the 1970s recession. Ultimately, the paper concludes that despite Scott’s efforts to undermine traditional iconography by portraying Lucas as a complex, rational and respected outlaw-businessman, the narrative’s lack of critical engagement with the socio-economic context of its era ultimately render it presentist in style, content and intention.

Air-purifying full-face masks, such as military chemical–biological–radiological–nuclear masks, might offer superior protection against severe acute respiratory syndrome coronavirus 2 compared to disposable polypropylene P2 or N95 masks. In addition, disposable masks are in short supply, while military chemical–biological–radiological–nuclear masks can be disinfected then reused. It is unknown whether such masks might be appropriate for civilians with minimal training in their use. Accordingly, we compared the Australian Defence Force in-service chemical–biological–radiological–nuclear Low Burden Mask (AirBoss Defense, Newmarket, Canada) with polypropylene N95 masks and non-occlusive glasses worn during simulated tasks performed by civilian clinicians in an Australian tertiary referral hospital intensive care unit. After brief training in the use of the Low Burden Mask, participants undertook a simulated cardiac arrest scenario. Previous training with polypropylene N95 masks had been provided. Evaluation of 10 characteristics of each mask type were recorded, and time to mask application was assessed. Thirty-three participants tested the Low Burden Mask, and 28 evaluated polypropylene N95 masks and glasses. The Low Burden Mask was donned more quickly: mean time 7.0 (standard deviation 2.1) versus 18.3 (standard deviation 6.7) seconds; P = 0.0076. The Low Burden Mask was rated significantly higher in eight of the 10 assessed criteria, including ease of donning, comfort (initially and over a prolonged period), fogging, seal, safety while removing, confidence in protection, and overall. Visibility and communication ability were rated equally highly for both systems. We conclude that this air-purifying full-face mask is acceptable to clinicians in a civilian intensive care unit. It enhances staff confidence, reduces waste, and is likely to be a lower logistical burden during a prolonged pandemic. Formal testing of effectiveness is warranted.

Study/Objective Evaluating the effectiveness of the Army Aboriginal Community Assistance Programs (AACAPs) from a military participant perspective provides the objective of this research. The study will identify areas of concern and provide guidance on current military policy, doctrine and protocol. Background Army Aboriginal Community Assistance Programs (AACAPs) represent a co-operative initiative between the Australian Army and Australian Government, that delivers complex support for Disaster Relief and Humanitarian Assistance (HA/DR) to improve the health and well-being of indigenous communities. Since 1997, the Army has conducted a number of AACAPs in remote Indigenous communities within continental Australia. No previous evaluations of these programs exist. Methods A ‘Quality Improvement’ study underpins this evaluation. Shewhart’s “Plan, Do, Study, Act” Model provides the guiding framework for the study. Allen’s Logic Model exemplifies the most appropriate framework to articulate the program needs and objectives, and to delineate the processes inherent in the program for this evaluation. The Center for Disease Control (CDC) evaluation model for public health programs, provides the evaluation standards to examine the delivery of health care to the deployed force in an austere environment. Part 1 of the study will be a desktop examination of current military policy, doctrine and protocol relating to AACAP. Part 2 will overlay personal experience from military participants in the AACAPs through a semi-structured interview, to enable deployed health personnel the opportunity to comment on their experiences. Analysis will comprise quantitative and qualitative method, specifically descriptive statistics and thematic analysis respectively. Army has approved all required governance, and ethics approval will be sought from Monash University. Results This is a proposed study, no results are available. Conclusion The benefit of this research will be gaining new knowledge with context of a humanitarian focused military task, through the lens of quality improvement to build capacity and enhance capability.

Introduction: A high sodium intake stimulates thirst and in turn may promote greater consumption of high energy sugary beverages, which are linked to obesity risk in children. In this study we assessed the hypothesis that sodium intake, as measured by 24-hr urinary sodium excretion, would be positively associated with weight status in primary school-aged children. Methods: Cross-sectional study completed within a convenience sample of Victorian primary schools (n=43). Sodium intake was assessed via one 24-hr urine collection. Fourteen percent of samples were deemed invalid and excluded. BMI was calculated from measured weight and height and converted to BMI z-scores using the 2000 Centers for Disease Control and Prevention reference growth charts. Participants were grouped into weight categories using the International Obesity Task Force cut-points. Differences in sodium intake and weight status were assessed using multi-level linear and logistic regression analysis with adjustment for random effects (gender, age) and fixed effect (school cluster). Results: Of the 667 children with valid urine samples 55% were male and the average age was 9.3±(SD) 1.8 years. Ten percent were classified as underweight, 73% healthy weight, 14% overweight and 3% obese. Average sodium intake differed across weight categories, underweight 82±29 mmol/day (salt equivalent 4.8±1.7 g/day); healthy weight 102±43 mmol/day (salt 6.0±2.5 g/day); overweight 125±55 mmol/day (salt 7.3±3.2 g/day); obese 148±97 mmol/day (salt 8.7±5.7 g/day) (p=0.001). In the fully adjusted model sodium intake (mmol/d) was significantly associated with BMI z-score (b=0.006, P<0.001). A 17 mmol/day increase in sodium intake (salt 1 g/day) was associated with a 23% (OR: 1.23; 95% CI 1.16, 1.31) greater risk of being overweight or obese, adjusted for age and gender. Conclusions: Higher sodium intake is associated with overweight and obesity in Victorian schoolchildren. This may be related to increased energy intake, and this association should be explored further.

In 1988, historian Nadia Wheatley and indigenous artist Donna Rawlins published their award-winning picture book, My Place, a reinterpretation of Australian national identity and sovereignty prompted by the bicentennial of white settlement. Twenty years later, the Australian Broadcasting Corporation (ABC) commissioned Penny Chapman’s multi-platform project based on this book. The 13 episodes of the television series begin in 2008, each telling the story of a child at a different point in history, and are accompanied by substantial interactive online content. Issues as diverse as religious difference and immigration, wartime conscription and trauma, and the experiences of Aboriginal Australians are canvassed. The program itself, which has a second series currently in production, introduces child audiences to—and implicates them in—a rich ideological fabric of deeply politicised issues that directly engage with vexed questions of Australian nationhood. The series offers a subversive view of Australian history and society, and it is the child—whether protagonist on the screen or the viewer/user of the content—who is left to discover, negotiate and move beyond often problematic societal norms. As one of the public broadcaster’s keystone projects, My Place signifies important developments in ABC’s construction of multicultural child citizenship. The digitisation of Australian television has facilitated a wave of multi-channel and new media innovation. Though the development of a multi-channel ecology has occurred significantly later in Australia than in the US or Europe, in part due to genre restrictions on broadcasters, all major Australian networks now have at least one additional free-to-air channel, make some of their content available online, and utilise various forms of social media to engage their audiences. The ABC has been in the vanguard of new media innovation, leveraging the industry dominance of ABC Online and its cross-platform radio networks for the repurposing of news, together with the additional funding for digital renewal, new Australian content, and a digital children’s channel in the 2006 and 2009 federal budgets. In line with “market failure” models of broadcasting (Born, Debrett), the ABC was once the most important producer-broadcaster for child viewers. With the recent allocation for the establishment of ABC3, it is now the catalyst for a significant revitalisation of the Australian children’s television industry. The ABC Charter requires it to broadcast programs that “contribute to a sense of national identity” and that “reflect the cultural diversity of the Australian community” (ABC Documents). Through its digital children’s channel (ABC3) and its multi-platform content, child viewers are not only exposed to a much more diverse range of local content, but also politicised by an intricate network of online texts connected to the TV programs. The representation of diasporic communities through and within multi-platformed spaces forms a crucial part of the way(s) in which collective identities are now being negotiated in children’s texts. An analysis of one of the ABC’s My Place “projects” and its associated multi-platformed content reveals an intricate relationship between postcolonial concerns and the construction of child citizenship. Multicultural Places, Multi-Platformed Spaces: New Media Innovation at the ABC The 2007 restructure at the ABC has transformed commissioning practices along the lines noted by James Bennett and Niki Strange of the BBC—a shift of focus from “programs” to multi-platform “projects,” with the latter consisting of a complex network of textual production. These “second shift media practices” (Caldwell) involve the tactical management of “user flows structured into and across the textual terrain that serve to promote a multifaceted and prolonged experience of the project” (Bennett and Strange 115). ABC Managing Director Mark Scott’s polemic deployment of the “digital commons” trope (Murdock, From) differs from that of his opposite number at the BBC, Mark Thompson, in its emphasis on the glocalised openness of the Australian “town square”—at once distinct from, and an integral part of, larger conversations. As announced at the beginning of the ABC’s 2009 annual report, the ABC is redefining the town square as a world of greater opportunities: a world where Australians can engage with one another and explore the ideas and events that are shaping our communities, our nation and beyond … where people can come to speak and be heard, to listen and learn from each other. (ABC ii)The broad emphasis on engagement characterises ABC3’s positioning of children in multi-platformed projects. As the Executive Producer of the ABC’s Children’s Television Multi-platform division comments, “participation is very much the mantra of the new channel” (Glen). The concept of “participation” is integral to what has been described elsewhere as “rehearsals in citizenship” (Northam). Writing of contemporary youth, David Buckingham notes that “‘political thinking’ is not merely an intellectual or developmental achievement, but an interpersonal process which is part of the construction of a collective, social identity” (179). Recent domestically produced children’s programs and their associated multimedia applications have significant potential to contribute to this interpersonal, “participatory” process. Through multi-platform experiences, children are (apparently) invited to construct narratives of their own. Dan Harries coined the term “viewser” to highlight the tension between watching and interacting, and the increased sense of agency on the part of audiences (171–82). Various online texts hosted by the ABC offer engagement with extra content relating to programs, with themed websites serving as “branches” of the overarching ABC3 metasite. The main site—strongly branded as the place for its targeted demographic—combines conventional television guide/program details with “Watch Now!,” a customised iView application within ABC3’s own themed interface; youth-oriented news; online gaming; and avenues for viewsers to create digital art and video, or interact with the community of “Club3” and associated message boards. The profiles created by members of Club3 are moderated and proscribe any personal information, resulting in an (understandably) restricted form of “networked publics” (boyd 124–5). Viewser profiles comprise only a username (which, the website stresses, should not be one’s real name) and an “avatar” (a customisable animated face). As in other social media sites, comments posted are accompanied by the viewser’s “name” and “face,” reinforcing the notion of individuality within the common group. The tool allows users to choose from various skin colours, emphasising the multicultural nature of the ABC3 community. Other customisable elements, including the ability to choose between dozens of pre-designed ABC3 assets and feeds, stress the audience’s “ownership” of the site. The Help instructions for the Club3 site stress the notion of “participation” directly: “Here at ABC3, we don’t want to tell you what your site should look like! We think that you should be able to choose for yourself.” Multi-platformed texts also provide viewsers with opportunities to interact with many of the characters (human actors and animated) from the television texts and share further aspects of their lives and fictional worlds. One example, linked to the representation of diasporic communities, is the Abatti Pizza Game, in which the player must “save the day” by battling obstacles to fulfil a pizza order. The game’s prefacing directions makes clear the ethnicity of the Abatti family, who are also visually distinctive. The dialogue also registers cultural markers: “Poor Nona, whatsa she gonna do? Now it’s up to you to help Johnny and his friends make four pizzas.” The game was acquired from the Canadian-animated franchise, Angela Anaconda; nonetheless, the Abatti family, the pizza store they operate and the dilemma they face translates easily to the Australian context. Dramatisations of diasporic contributions to national youth identities in postcolonial or settler societies—the UK (My Life as a Popat, CITV) and Canada (How to Be Indie)—also contribute to the diversity of ABC3’s television offerings and the positioning of its multi-platform community. The negotiation of diasporic and postcolonial politics is even clearer in the public broadcaster’s commitment to My Place. The project’s multifaceted construction of “places,” the ethical positioning of the child both as an individual and a member of (multicultural) communities, and the significant acknowledgement of ongoing conflict and discrimination, articulate a cultural commons that is more open-ended and challenging than the Eurocentric metaphor, the “town square,” suggests. Diversity, Discrimination and Diasporas: Positioning the Viewser of My Place Throughout the first series of My Place, the experiences of children within different diasporic communities are the focal point of five of the initial six episodes, the plots of which revolve around children with Lebanese, Vietnamese, Greek, and Irish backgrounds. This article focuses on an early episode of the series, “1988,” which explicitly confronts the cultural frictions between dominant Anglocentric Australian and diasporic communities. “1988” centres on the reaction of young Lily to the arrival of her cousin, Phuong, from Vietnam. Lily is a member of a diasporic community, but one who strongly identifies as “an Australian,” allowing a nuanced exploration of the ideological conflicts surrounding the issue of so-called “boat people.” The protagonist’s voice-over narration at the beginning of the episode foregrounds her desire to win Australia’s first Olympic gold medal in gymnastics, thus mobilising nationally identified hierarchies of value. Tensions between diasporic and settler cultures are frequently depicted. One potentially reactionary sequence portrays the recurring character of Michaelis complaining about having to use chopsticks in the Vietnamese restaurant; however, this comment is contextualised several episodes later, when a much younger Michaelis, as protagonist of the episode “1958,” is himself discriminated against, due to his Greek background. The political irony of “1988” pivots on Lily’s assumption that her cousin “won’t know Australian.” There is a patronising tone in her warning to Phuong not to speak Vietnamese for fear of schoolyard bullying: “The kids at school give you heaps if you talk funny. But it’s okay, I can talk for you!” This encourages child viewers to distance themselves from this fictional parallel to the frequent absence of representation of asylum seekers in contemporary debates. Lily’s assumptions and attitudes are treated with a degree of scepticism, particularly when she assures her friends that the silent Phuong will “get normal soon,” before objectifying her cousin for classroom “show and tell.” A close-up camera shot settles on Phuong’s unease while the children around her gossip about her status as a “boat person,” further encouraging the audience to empathise with the bullied character. However, Phuong turns the tables on those around her when she reveals she can competently speak English, is able to perform gymnastics and other feats beyond Lily’s ability, and even invents a story of being attacked by “pirates” in order to silence her gossiping peers. By the end of the narrative, Lily has redeemed herself and shares a close friendship with Phuong. My Place’s structured child “participation” plays a key role in developing the postcolonial perspective required by this episode and the project more broadly. Indeed, despite the record project budget, a second series was commissioned, at least partly on the basis of the overwhelmingly positive reception of viewsers on the ABC website forums (Buckland). The intricate My Place website, accessible through the ABC3 metasite, generates transmedia intertextuality interlocking with, and extending the diegesis of, the televised texts. A hyperlinked timeline leads to collections of personal artefacts “owned” by each protagonist, such as journals, toys, and clothing. Clicking on a gold medal marked “History” in Lily’s collection activates scrolling text describing the political acceptance of the phrase “multiculturalism” and the “Family Reunion” policy, which assisted the arrival of 100,000 Vietnamese immigrants. The viewser is reminded that some people were “not very welcoming” of diasporic groups via an explicit reference to Mrs Benson’s discriminatory attitudes in the series. Viewsers can “visit” virtual representations of the program’s sets. In the bedroom, kitchen, living room and/or backyard of each protagonist can be discovered familiar and additional details of the characters’ lives. The artefacts that can be “played” with in the multimedia applications often imply the enthusiastic (and apparently desirable) adoption of “Australianness” by immigrant children. Lily’s toys (her doll, hair accessories, roller skates, and glass marbles) invoke various aspects of western children’s culture, while her “journal entry” about Phuong states that she is “new to Australia but with her sense of humour she has fitted in really well.” At the same time, the interactive elements within Lily’s kitchen, including a bowl of rice and other Asian food ingredients, emphasise cultural continuity. The description of incense in another room of Lily’s house as a “common link” that is “used in many different cultures and religions for similar purposes” clearly normalises a glocalised world-view. Artefacts inside the restaurant operated by Lily’s mother link to information ranging from the ingredients and (flexible) instructions for how to make rice paper rolls (“Lily and Phuong used these fillings but you can use whatever you like!”) to a brief interactive puzzle game requiring the arrangement of several peppers in order from least hot to most hot. A selectable picture frame downloads a text box labelled “Images of Home.” Combined with a slideshow of static, hand-drawn images of traditional Vietnamese life, the text can be read as symbolic of the multiplicity of My Place’s target audience(s): “These images would have reminded the family of their homeland and also given restaurant customers a sense of Vietnamese culture.” The social-developmental, postcolonial agenda of My Place is registered in both “conventional” ancillary texts, such as the series’ “making of” publication (Wheatley), and the elaborate pedagogical website for teachers developed by the ACTF and Educational Services Australia (http://www.myplace.edu.au/). The politicising function of the latter is encoded in the various summaries of each decade’s historical, political, social, cultural, and technological highlights, often associated with the plot of the relevant episode. The page titled “Multiculturalism” reports on the positive amendments to the Commonwealth’s Migration Act 1958 and provides links to photographs of Vietnamese migrants in 1982, exemplifying the values of equality and cultural diversity through Lily and Phuong’s story. The detailed “Teaching Activities” documents available for each episode serve a similar purpose, providing, for example, the suggestion that teachers “ask students to discuss the importance to a new immigrant of retaining links to family, culture and tradition.” The empathetic positioning of Phuong’s situation is further mirrored in the interactive map available for teacher use that enables children to navigate a boat from Vietnam to the Australian coast, encouraging a perspective that is rarely put forward in Australia’s mass media. This is not to suggest that the My Place project is entirely unproblematic. In her postcolonial analysis of Aboriginal children’s literature, Clare Bradford argues that “it’s all too possible for ‘similarities’ to erase difference and the political significances of [a] text” (188). Lily’s schoolteacher’s lesson in the episode “reminds us that boat people have been coming to Australia for a very long time.” However, the implied connection between convicts and asylum seekers triggered by Phuong’s (mis)understanding awkwardly appropriates a mythologised Australian history. Similarly in the “1998” episode, the Muslim character Mohammad’s use of Ramadan for personal strength in order to emulate the iconic Australian cricketer Shane Warne threatens to subsume the “difference” of the diasporic community. Nonetheless, alongside the similarities between individuals and the various ethnic groups that make up the My Place community, important distinctions remain. Each episode begins and/or ends with the child protagonist(s) playing on or around the central motif of the series—a large fig tree—with the characters declaring that the tree is “my place.” While emphasising the importance of individuality in the project’s construction of child citizens, the cumulative effect of these “my place” sentiments, felt over time by characters from different socio-economic, ethnic, and cultural backgrounds, builds a multifaceted conception of Australian identity that consists of numerous (and complementary) “branches.” The project’s multi-platformed content further emphasises this, with the website containing an image of the prominent (literal and figurative) “Community Tree,” through which the viewser can interact with the generations of characters and families from the series (http://www.abc.net.au/abc3/myplace/). The significant role of the ABC’s My Place project showcases the ABC’s remit as a public broadcaster in the digital era. As Tim Brooke-Hunt, the Executive Head of Children’s Content, explains, if the ABC didn’t do it, no other broadcaster was going to come near it. ... I don’t expect My Place to be a humungous commercial or ratings success, but I firmly believe ... that it will be something that will exist for many years and will have a very special place. Conclusion The reversion to iconic aspects of mainstream Anglo-Australian culture is perhaps unsurprising—and certainly telling—when reflecting on the network of local, national, and global forces impacting on the development of a cultural commons. 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