Fifty years seems like a long time in a human's life, but then I look back, and it feels just like yesterday.
The establishment of the Aboriginal Tent Embassy was such a momentous occasion, and a very daring effort to get there.
When I look back at what was happening at the time, the (1966) was a major motivating factor for us.
In '69, they took the mission managers away in NSW, so my family were free and earning a living, but we had a lot of family on the missions. They were like the prisoners of a Russian gulag.
So as a child growing up, I had this thing inside of me, and as part of the first generation to go to high school, we were educated enough to know that there was something going terribly wrong for our people.
The Gurindji stockmen walkoff, a seminal moment in the First Nations land rights battle. Source: NAA
When I moved to Sydney, I found all these like-minded people. We didn't know about the politics or the legal side of change. We just knew something needed to happen.
On 25th January 1972, following Gurindji and the Yolngu court case against the Nabalco Mining Company, the then Prime Minister Billy McMahon was set to announce a new policy governing Aboriginal land rights.
He announced the government was prepared to "lease" land to Aboriginal people in the Northern Territory.
That turned my stomach upside down. There were terrible things being said in Parliament at the time, so we were prepared for something bad, but after we read that in the paper, it set off the fire within us.
Billy Craigie, Tony Coorey, Bertie Williams and I decided to go to Canberra.
We got into a car with nothing but the clothes on our back, and back then it was a five hour drive to Canberra. It was well past midnight when we arrived.
We went to the home of a Communist Party member, and discussed what the protest would look like. We had absolutely nothing, and it was raining.
The fellow said: "I don't have a tent, the best I can do is a beach umbrella, and some manila folders to make some placards".
We sat around to make the signs. "What do we call this? What is this protest?", we asked ourselves. And Tony Coorey called out from the loo down the hall: "This is the home of the embassies!"
That resonated with all of us. And we said yes. Okay, lets call it the Aboriginal Embassy.
And so we set up our umbrella and signs and plonked ourselves down in front of Parliament House (now Old Parliament).
Looking back, I remember feeling bloody cold. There's a photo of us huddled under the beach umbrella on that night. I remember the photographer saying, "alright guys, this is history. Let me take the photo". We are all sitting there in the dark, saying okay, Canberra is waking up to a different Australia.
Between 3am and sunrise, a few cop cars went past. They returned later with the then Police Commissioner.
We told him we were protesting, and he asked how long we were going to be there. Billy Craigie, with his witticisms, said: "Until we get our land rights".
A cold first night. The four had driven down from Sydney with nothing but the clothes on their backs. Source: Supplied
The Commissioner smiled and replied: "Well that might be a long time".
We told him we'd be there as long as it takes.
It was a shock for the whole establishment of Canberra that morning. You didn't see this type of protest back in those days, especially not from Blakfullas. We realised we hadn't just captured the imagination of Canberra, or the nation, but international attention as well.
Cars were driving past to get a look at us as well. At some point, two ladies from the Quakers came and gave us some soup, and a tent. That's where the tents started.
People started to join us. From one beach umbrella, to one tent, to eight or more tents.
First Nations people come from many nations of course, and the Embassy did not see itself as a spokesperson. The Embassy was an embassy through which we were carrying a message of protest and saying something ethical.
With media attention, the movement began to grow. Source: Supplied
This was about social, political and legal change in this country. We never ever professed to be a spokesperson for all of Australia. We were there merely saying land rights is a key issue.
A lot of people don't realise how much discussion we had with politicians inside those tents, around those times. There's photographs that show Whitlam when he was in opposition with senior members of (shadow) cabinet sitting down there with us. That in itself is a major story that a lot of people know nothing about.
By early February there was a list of demands: land rights, statehood for the Northern Territory, and $6 billion in compensation for stolen land. The movement also marked a change in Blak activism. We realised the importance of media.
We had smart Elders saying to us: "We don't need leaders in prison. We don't need leaders who are dead. We need leaders who are out voicing and giving direction to what it is that we're after".
It marked a change in the approach of Blak activism and politics, to recognise the importance of media. Source: Supplied
And so we had a very clear line as to what it is we were after: land rights, civil liberties and civil rights.
The Embassy started to take off. We had people join us from Queensland, South Australia, Western Australia. International embassies in Canberra were inviting us in, asking what the protest was about. The diplomatic interest foreign interest was extraordinary. The meals were quite nice as well!
The attitude from the establishment began to change. We were becoming an embarrassment for the government. The police tried to disperse us several times, but we always came back, in greater numbers.
One day, there was a really violent confrontation.
The cops came marching towards us, looking like Nazi officers in a line, and we were angry, and ready to defend ourselves. Mostly though, we were concerned for the Elders. There were more women Elders than men. We told them to get in the centre of the crowd so they wouldn't get hurt, but they refused, and linked arms.
We thought, if you hurt these Elders, then we're really going to hurt you. My lawyer told me we put 36 police officers in hospital that day.
As the Embassy became an increasing embarrassment for the government, several clashes with police occurred. Source: Supplied
Our protest melded as anti-government sentiment, because here was an innocent demonstration. If that was an embarrassment for you, well then deal with the underlying issues. Don't attack the people for saying there's a problem.
We had no idea the Tent Embassy would become so significant, or last so long. I never thought it would still be here. But that's because every government subsequent to Whitlam and Fraser have gone backwards in working with Aboriginal people to assist in our self-determination.
Lots of the work we did back then has been undone. The legal services are not independent, the housing companies we started were shut down and the assets sold off. Only the medical services are left.
Ghillar Michael Anderson is the last surviving founding member of the Aboriginal Tent Embassy Source: NITV News
My greatest hope for the Tent Embassy is that it shouldn't need to exist.
The Embassy has been deafening in its silence. But it's an eyesore to the oppressor. They don't like it because everybody is saying, why is it still there? And that's the question the Australian public needs to ask the Parliament, ask the politicians. Why is there still a need for the Embassy?
The greatest challenge now is to have governments realise that we are many nations, many languages. We all have different priorities. We all have different understandings of our own set of aspirations and hopes. Let's start dealing with that reality.
Looking back now 50 years later, if I could have spoken to those young fullas, I would've said: "Be louder."
