Close the Uluru climb now

Last week we went to Uluru with friends. They had never been there; I have been once, and this was Simon's third trip. Off we trundled in two camper vans, making the compulsory stop at Stuart's Well to see Dinky the Singing Dingo (don't ask - but if you already know about Dinky and want to see him for yourself, be aware that he has been fed many snaggers over the years and no longer feels inclined to get up on the piano to sing, preferring to yowl from his position flaked out on the floor. It's quite disturbing). We were unaware, when we left, that this would be the week when the question of who can/should climb Uluru would be revisited at a federal level, but we sure found out when we got there.

To recap: the Uluru-Kata Tjuta national park is owned by its traditional owners, the Anangu, but was leased to the federal government in 1985 for 99 years, which now regulates access to the site. Prior to this arrangement, a climb had been established that allowed people to ascend, with the help of a chain bolted into the rock, the 800m to the top. More recently, the Anangu have requested that visitors do not attempt the climb, partly because it crosses a significant Dreamtime track and partly because of the danger involved. Thirty-five people have died attempting the climb, and it is frequently closed on days of high temperatures or high winds. Nevertheless it is still an experience that is freely available, and it is down to the choice of the individual visitor whether to climb or not to climb.

When we visited, I was struck - as I had been the first time - by how many appeals in numerous languages have been signposted at the foot of the climb, urging visitors to refrain from doing it. It can scarcely escape the notice of any visitor that the traditional owners of the site do not wish people to climb what it an extremely important place for them. And yet, there is a steady stream of people, moving like ants up and down the climb. Furthermore, numerous conversations overheard or entered into with other tourists confirmed that the wishes of the Anangu are often barely considered.

It was during these conversations that we learned that the federal Environment Minister, Peter Garrett, had been flirting with the idea of closing the climb permanently, on the grounds that it was dangerous and culturally insensitive. The reactions to this at Uluru were furious. 'Well, we climbed it today because who knows when we will get another chance? It's ridiculous!' and 'Tourism will suffer if the climb closes - people won't want to visit any more.' Echoing these sentiments elsewhere, Australians then chorused that it was their right to climb Uluru (or Ayers' Rock) and that to close it would be unfair, unwise and extreme. Prime Minister Kevin Rudd immediately bowed to this kind of populism and contradicted Garrett, stating that the climb should stay open for the enjoyment of everyone. The debate ended there.

Such sentiments fly in the face of the Rudd Government's significant and moving gesture of apology toward the indigenous people of Australia, for the injustices associated with the Stolen Generations. The apology means nothing if traditional owners cannot enforce their wishes over their land, especially on a matter as trivial (for white people) and as dangerous as the Uluru climb. Visiting Uluru and not climbing it is not a hardship: there is a 9km base walk around the whole thing that allows tourists to access caves, waterholes, traditional art, rock formations and unbelievable beauty. Visitors should respect this place as the cathedral that it is, and not even think about climbing all over it. Peter Garrett has been a most ineffectual Environment Minister - just this week he approved the first new uranium mine in Australia for decades - but here he was on to something.

We thoroughly enjoyed our visit. We all felt, we agreed, that this was not a place for white people to stay, as if we were intruding slighly. This was not due to a lack of facilities or a lack of welcoming spirit. It was more to do with a sense that here was a place so complex, so vast, and so different from Western norms of living, that we were groping for words and concepts to explain it to ourselves. On this basis, we all felt that the Anangu and their understanding of Uluru's significant has to prevail - they are better placed, culturally, historically, politically and morally, to explain what Uluru is to visitors. And visitors we are, all of us.

Stop the desecration of this stunning, overwhelmingly significant site, and the disregarding of its traditional owners' histories. Close the Uluru climb now.