Here We Joh Again: Bjelke-Petersen’s Spectre Looms Over Queensland Politics
Here we Joh again The spectre – Queensland’s political climate has once again sparked comparisons to the era of Sir Joh Bjelke-Petersen, the former Premier whose authoritarian rule is now being resurrected in modern discourse. At a recent Brisbane protest, Indigenous elder Aunty Sandra King paused to examine a sign reading “I Preferred Joh,” reigniting debates about the state’s regression toward regressive policies. The phrase, a nod to the 1970s and ’80s, underscores how the spectre of Bjelke-Petersen continues to cast a long shadow over Queensland’s governance, with critics warning of a return to marginalizing Indigenous voices.
The Return of a Controversial Legacy
King, who has lived through the tumultuous years of Bjelke-Petersen’s leadership, described the sign as a “flashback.” She recalled how the Premier’s regime systematically sidelined Indigenous communities, a trend she says is now resurfacing. “That is going back to Joh Bjelke-Petersen, who we did not like,” she stated. “He was just against us. No, Joh was not better, I can say. None of them, no Liberal party’s better for us.” Her remarks highlight a growing unease that the LNP’s current strategies mirror the tactics of the past, threatening to erode progress made in Indigenous representation.
Strategies of Suppression and Control
“There’s an organised strategy and that is to ultimately eliminate, remove, reduce the Indigenous affairs, Indigenous initiatives, Indigenous voices,” said Joshua Creamer, an Indigenous barrister. His analysis points to a deliberate effort to reshape Queensland’s political narrative, echoing the “project invisibility” tactics of Bjelke-Petersen’s era. Defunding programs like Murri Watch and undermining native title claims are just two examples of how this strategy aims to quiet dissent and reshape the state’s social fabric.
Historical parallels are not coincidental. Julianne Schultz, an academic and author, explored these connections in her 2008 essay *Disruptive Influences*, which described a generation of Queenslanders shaped by the volatility of Bjelke-Petersen’s time. Twenty years later, many of his successors have taken the helm, yet the echoes of his governance persist. Critics argue that today’s policies, from crime laws to “hate speech” legislation, are designed to align with the same ideological framework that once dominated the state.
Bjelke-Petersen’s 1988 World Expo enabling act, which compulsorily acquired land for development, serves as a prime example of his approach to power. Similar tactics are now being employed by the current government, with critics pointing to the removal of Indigenous voices from decision-making processes as a direct continuation of that legacy. The push to ban puberty blockers for transgender youth and the focus on cost-of-living issues are framed as part of a broader effort to control narratives and marginalize progressive movements.
Queensland’s current Premier, David Crisafulli, often cites Frank Nicklin as a model for leadership. However, while Nicklin’s tenure was relatively moderate, the parallels to Bjelke-Petersen are stark. The LNP’s handling of issues like native title and Indigenous representation has drawn comparisons to the Premier’s tactics, with some within the party privately acknowledging his oppressive methods. Yet, the spectre of Bjelke-Petersen remains a rallying point for those warning of a return to authoritarianism.
Cultural institutions have also felt the weight of this resurgence. The state library in Brisbane, once a symbol of progress, recently stripped Karen Wyld of her fellowship hours before it was to be awarded. Her comments on the Gaza conflict, deemed controversial, prompted the decision—a move critics see as part of a strategy to silence dissent. These actions, like those of the 1980s, reflect a broader effort to control public discourse and maintain the dominance of a singular political narrative.
