Last Wednesday, my Archibald Prize portrait of Behrouz Boochani received the People's Choice award at the Art Gallery of New South Wales.
I was thrilled and humbled by the announcement. There's no higher praise than to receive the vote of the public. It's a massive compliment for me as the artist but I suspect an even larger one for Behrouz, who has forged such a significant place in our recent social history, despite never even setting foot on the mainland.
If we were to sort through the votes cast for my picture, it's unlikely we would find many made by members of the Federal government. The verdict of the general public, however, couldn't be more different.
Behrouz has earned the admiration, the respect and I would also say the love of so many Australians for his writing, his art and his peaceful struggle against the government's brutal offshore processing policy during the more than six years he was held captive on Manus Island. Behrouz Boochani is an exceptional and inspirational human being.
For me, the most enriching part of all of this has been the privilege of getting to know him over the past few years, to work with him, to call him a friend and eventually make this portrait. To be awarded People's Choice for the work on top of all that is a bonus and an honour I share equally with Behrouz.
For the years he was held on Manus Island by the Federal government after fleeing Iran and arriving by boat in 2013, Behrouz created a breathtaking, multifaceted body of work from the ground up as a writer, poet, filmmaker, artist, journalist and an academic.
Through all that he created, he tirelessly challenged the political narrative around refugees and exposed the regime's cruelty and malevolence. Above all, he strived to humanise the plight of every innocent human being that was consigned offshore with him, people that the government desperately sought to keep invisible.
Those who have arrived here fleeing conflict, or persecution of one sort or another, have escaped situations that most of us could never even imagine. In response, we have punished them for it and treated them as lesser human beings.
The globalised world we live in now is so much more interconnected than the place I grew up in as a kid.
You may reasonably imagine that because of this, we would have developed a deeper sense of our shared humanity; the understanding that all of us, regardless of colour or racial and religious background, are above everything else human beings, and we are one. But we continue to struggle with this here as much as any western nation, and in some ways more.
Australia is an amazing country and we are decent people. I believe that. However we have a lot of old problems and hard truths about race that we just don't want to face up to. This hasn't only perpetuated suffering and disadvantage on the most marginalised in our society, it's also held us back from realising our full potential.
In relation to refugees and asylum seekers, we have completely lost our way. Where we were once a welcoming country, we have now become an outlier.
We have been lured by our political leaders into a dark and fearful place that has allowed us to accept the most indecent, unjustifiable conduct towards others who have simply turned to us for help. If any of us reach honestly into ourselves, we know that it is wrong.
The measure of how we treat friends, neighbours, others in our community should be the benchmark for the acceptable treatment of any human being.
The measure of how we treat friends, neighbours, others in our community should be the benchmark for the acceptable treatment of any human being.
Even now, after more than seven years of this indefensible brutality, around 1500 innocent people still remain without a durable solution, held either offshore or in detention onshore, their futures unresolved, their lives in limbo. Surely it's time to end this, and grant these individuals the freedom to resume their lives.
I don't consider this portrait to be mine. It belongs to all of us. Behrouz's greatest contribution was to hold up a mirror to reveal how we blindly stumbled into a lesser version of ourselves. And he has made this gift to us without malice despite all we have perpetrated on him.
I hope that we use it to shut down this shameful chapter permanently and find a better way; to rediscover the self-respect and pride that is within us as a whole society to act with compassion and generosity to those that need safety and a hand up. Just imagine what we could achieve together if we find the courage to do that.
- Angus McDonald is an award-winning artist and documentary filmmaker. He also writes for ACM pubication, the Northern Rivers Review.
- Twitter and Instagram @angusmcz