Trent Zimmerman (North Sydney, Liberal Party) Share this | Hansard source

I move:

That this House:

(1) recognises that 9 December 2021 is the United Nations' International Day of Commemoration and Dignity of the Victims of the Crime of Genocide and the Prevention of this Crime;

(2) notes that 9 December 2021 is also the 73rd anniversary of the 1948 Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide;

(3) further recognises that that development of the Genocide Convention was motivated by genocidal crimes of the 20th Century including:

(a) the genocide committed by the Ottoman Empire between 1915 and 1923 of Armenians, Assyrians, Greeks and other Christian minorities; and

(b) the genocide of six million Jews committed by Nazi Germany and its collaborators between 1941 and 1945;

(4) acknowledges the importance of recognising, condemning and learning from these and subsequent genocidal crimes to ensure that such crimes against humanity are not allowed to be repeated;

(5) remembers the loss and suffering caused by genocides in the modern era and their enduring impact on the lives of many Australians and their descendants; and

(6) calls on the Government to:

(a) affirm its long-standing support for the prevention of genocide and the punishment of those who perpetrate or instigate genocidal crimes; and

(b) formally recognise the genocides committed by the Ottoman Empire between 1915 and 1923 of Armenians, Assyrians, Greeks and other Christian minorities.

There are two places in world I've visited which have moved me to my very core. They both represent some of the darkest chapters in modern human history. Sitting on the western slope of Mount Herzl in Jerusalem lies Yad Vashem, Israel's official remembrance and memorial centre for those who perished in the Holocaust. I visited Yad Vashem three times. The third time was just as powerful as the first. Within the complex, nothing touched me more than the children's memorial, where the loss of 1.5 million Jewish children is remembered. All of the victims of the Holocaust were innocent of any crime other than being who they were culturally or by their faith, yet there is something especially moving and disturbing in reflecting on those children, in their age of innocence and with their lives before them, being murdered without compunction or compassion. How could this ever be so?

On a ridge above the Armenian capital of Yerevan sits an austere but impressive memorial and museum dedicated to the 1.5 million Armenians killed during the Ottoman Empire, in one of the greatest tragedies of the modern era. Just over two years ago, I visited Yerevan with my federal colleagues the members for Goldstein and Bennelong. We planted a tree in the grove of remembrance and we laid a wreath. These were small gestures that reflected our determination to ensure that the suffering of the Armenian people during its genocide is never forgotten.

Both places are heart wrenching and sobering. Both so clearly convey the barbaric impact and magnitude of genocidal crimes designed to exterminate a people based on their ethnicity and beliefs.

On 9 December this year, as happens every year, the United Nations will mark the crimes of genocide that have killed so many millions in the modern era. It will reflect on that great early achievement in the United Nations' history, the adoption of the convention against genocide. The immediate impetus for that convention was the events of the Holocaust and the global determination to make sure that international law recognised the crime against humanity that genocide represents. But, as one of its primary authors, Raphael Lemkin, often acknowledged, the roots lay earlier—in the genocide undertaken by the Ottoman government. The Holocaust and the Armenian genocides are linked so clearly in driving the creation of that convention, yet they have been treated differently.

Australia and the international community, with few exceptions, recognise the Holocaust for what it was: a genocide perpetrated by Nazi Germany and its collaborators. Importantly, this is accepted by current generations of Germans, and their governments have strived for atonement and reconciliation in a way that has been both moving and incredible. Yet similar recognition has not been given to the Armenians or the Assyrians or the Greeks, past or present, for the genocide they faced in the Ottoman Empire, despite the enduring scars and legacies. In contrast to Germany, the successor of the Ottoman state, modern Turkey, stridently resists recognition of that genocide for what it was, let alone makes any efforts to heal the wounds wrought by those events.

It is time that changed, and Australia must play its part by joining what has been a slow but growing number of nations that have recognised the Armenian and other genocides of the Ottoman regime. This year, the United States, in a historic statement made by President Biden, joined the list of over 30 other nations that have now done so. These events started 106 years ago, yet they remain relevant today. For the Armenian, Syrian and Greek people, and their diasporas, that great loss haunts their communities. So many count grandparents and other relatives amongst the dead or dislocated. However, the case for recognising the genocide has a much more profound calling, not only based on identifying the truth of past events but also on our efforts to prevent these tragedies occurring again and befalling other communities. We should never forget the words of Hitler, who on the eve of launching his own murderous assault on the people of Poland said, 'Who, after all, speaks today of the annihilation of the Armenians?'

These crimes cannot be forgotten, and Australia must play its part in making sure they're not. We owe it to truth and justice, and we owe it to the memory of the millions who perished and their descendants—and to the hope of atonement. And we owe it to the world as we strive to achieve a more peaceful global community, free of crimes that threaten whole communities based on their attributes of race, or culture or belief. 1948 was a landmark year, with the optimism and determination of the still-young United Nations to address crimes against humanity like genocide—that's the most evil of all. It is that spirit we should remember on 9 December and it is that spirit we should be leaving as our own legacy.

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