Roebourne Grapples with Colonial Street Names: A Community Divided on History’s Legacy
In the remote Pilbara town of Roebourne, a stark reminder of Australia’s colonial past is etched onto its street signs. Located a gruelling 1,600 kilometres north of Perth, this community of 975 residents, with over 73 per cent identifying as First Nations, is at a crossroads. Streets bearing the names Withnell and Sholl, which commemorate colonial figures implicated in frontier violence, have ignited a fierce debate about how the nation confronts its history and who gets to dictate its narrative.
For many in Roebourne, these names are not mere historical markers but potent symbols of unresolved trauma. For others, they represent an unalterable part of history, a grim but necessary educational tool for future generations. Sean-Paul Stephens, CEO of the Ngarluma Yinjabarndi Foundation (NYFL), articulates the pain directly: “If you’re writing Sholl Street, Roebourne, you’re writing the names of two men who committed massacres against First Nations people.” This sentiment underscores the deep-seated hurt and the call for a more inclusive and truthful commemoration of the past.
A Dark Chapter: The Legacy of Frontier Violence
The historical context is crucial to understanding the current debate. The Yaburara people are the traditional custodians of Murujuga, a significant area just 40 kilometres northwest of Roebourne, having occupied the land for millennia before European colonisation. The burgeoning pearling industry in the Pilbara in the mid-19th century attracted early European settlers to the region, setting the stage for conflict.
A pivotal, yet often overlooked, event is the Flying Foam Massacre, a month-long conflict that unfolded in 1868. Historian Tom Gara, who conducted extensive research in the Pilbara in the early 1980s, collecting oral histories from First Nations residents, uncovered details of this brutal episode. His research, delving into newspaper archives from a century prior, revealed the origins of the violence. It began with the chaining of an Indigenous man for allegedly stealing flour, which led to the death of a police officer in retaliation. This sparked a series of punitive expeditions against Aboriginal people.
Robert Sholl, the north-west’s first government resident, is documented as having ordered killings, with John Withnell, a pastoralist, leading one of the two hunting parties. Historian Tom Gara estimates that between 30 and 50 First Nations people were killed during this conflict. Given that the Yaburara people constituted a small group of perhaps 80 to 100 individuals, the loss of a third to half of their population represented an unimaginable catastrophe. Today, the very streets of Roebourne bear the names of these men. Compounding this, even the town’s name, Roebourne, honours John Septimus Roe, who was involved in the Pinjarra Massacre, an event that claimed the lives of up to 80 First Nations people, despite Roe never having visited the north-west of the state.
Shifting Sands: Community Support for Change
A palpable shift in sentiment is evident within the Roebourne community, according to Ngarluma Yindjibarndi traditional owner Patrick Churnside. “There’s been a big shift in the community, yes, to change the names or rename these names,” he stated, highlighting a growing willingness for change. “There is support and a big shift and willingness to do so.”
Sean-Paul Stephens of the NYFL reiterates the profound impact of these names, describing them as carrying a “multitude of traumas” for First Nations people. He links this to the broader context of social and economic disadvantage in the region, suggesting that the perpetuation of trauma is evident. However, Stephens is clear that changing street names cannot be a superficial gesture. “We need to be able to chew gum and walk at the same time, so changing names can alleviate some of that ongoing trauma but it has to be coupled with meaningful reconciliation action,” he urged. His sentiment echoes the proverb, “The best time to plant a tree was 20 years ago. The next best time is now,” emphasising the urgency for action.
History as Educator: The Case for Preservation
Not all residents share the view that the street signs should be removed. Mary Cosmos, a Yaburura and Martuthunira woman, recounts growing up in ignorance of the massacre due to the profound pain it had inflicted on her family. She believes that the street names should remain, serving as a constant reminder and a vital educational resource. “You cannot remove the street names because that is history,” she asserted. “It’s very important for myself to teach my kids what took place in the massacre — my grandchildren, my nieces, my nephews — because they will be asking.” For Cosmos, erasing these names would be akin to erasing a critical, albeit painful, part of their collective memory and identity.
Navigating the Bureaucracy of Change
The process for altering official place names in Western Australia is governed by Landgate, the state’s government body responsible for road and town site naming. A spokesperson for Landgate indicated that name changes are infrequent. Typically, alterations are considered if existing names lead to confusion or navigational difficulties, as any change has significant implications for service providers and emergency services that rely on accurate location data.
However, there are precedents for honouring Indigenous history. In Albany, dual naming has been adopted for King George Sound/Mammang Koort and Bald Head/Doggerdirup, acknowledging the town’s dual heritage. Similarly, Perth saw Lake Monger officially renamed Galup in July last year, its traditional name. For any street name change to occur in Roebourne, the proposal must originate from the relevant local government.
Virginia Miltrup, the chief executive of the City of Karratha, which oversees Roebourne, has expressed an openness to dialogue. “I think we can all imagine that there would be sensitivity and even distress for some people, so that’s not something that we are shying away from,” she stated, acknowledging the emotional weight of the issue. “I think that this is the reality of Australian history.” While the City of Karratha has yet to implement a Reconciliation Action Plan, it aims to finalise one this year. Miltrup concluded by emphasising her commitment to community leadership: “I would take my guidance from the local community, including the Aboriginal community, as to how they would like to proceed.” This indicates a potential pathway forward, guided by the very people most affected by the town’s historical nomenclature.
