News (Media Awareness Project) - Australia: Why This Ex-bobby Turned Politician Won't Raise The |
Title: | Australia: Why This Ex-bobby Turned Politician Won't Raise The |
Published On: | 2000-04-30 |
Source: | Age, The (Australia) |
Fetched On: | 2008-09-04 20:11:46 |
WHY THIS EX-BOBBY TURNED POLITICIAN WON'T RAISE THE WHITE FLAG ON HEROIN
Why This Ex-bobby Turned Politician Won't Raise The White Flag On Heroin
Russell Savage's first glimpse of heroin addiction, in the squalor of
a Trafalgar Square public lavatory, produced an abhorrence which stays
with him today.
It is a revulsion which, combined with the former cop's practical
knowledge of policing and a surprisingly vehement scepticism about
"drug-policy experts", will not let him accept the concept of legal
supervised injecting rooms under any circumstances.
"Philosophically, I just can't do it," he says, seeing it as the
"white flag" approach to drug control. Instead, Mr Savage proposes a
revitalised attack to "take control of the streets" back from the drug
dealers, driving heroin underground.
The upshot is a crucial vote lost to the Bracks Government's ability
to legislate for five injecting rooms in heroin hotspots through
Melbourne suburbs - five policing "no-go" zones which Mr Savage sees
as amounting to heroin legalisation.
"What's going to be the protocol for the police?" he asks. "Every
heroin addict and dealer will say to police `Oh, but I'm on my way to
the safe-injecting facility' and that's going to be a major problem.
You are actually going to make it very difficult to police heroin."
Raised on a farm at Red Hill South on Mornington Peninsula, Russell
Savage went to England in 1966 for a working holiday and became a
London bobby. It was the "swinging '60s", and the youth revolution was
in full swing.
He was there on March 17, 1968, outside the American embassy for the
so-called Battle of Grosvenor Square, one of the biggest anti-Vietnam
War protests in London. And his scrapbooks reveal a front-page photo
of him in The Times of May 27, 1968, tumbling and losing his helmet
beneath a demonstration in Seville Street against the French embassy.
Mostly, though, the job of Constable Savage was to patrol on foot the
elegant West End streets from the Palace of Westminster, Downing
Street, and Whitehall to Trafalgar Square - a comparatively sterile,
crime-free zone.
But sometimes, Constable Savage would be called to inspect a lavatory
as a result of complaints about it being used by addicts. Often,
though, there was nothing he could do.
"They were known as registered drug addicts back then, but there was a
traffic in heroin as well. They used to get the tablets to take away,
and you'd find heroin addicts in public toilets shooting up.
"I thought it was pretty awful, actually. Being a country boy from
Victoria, I thought it was a pretty bizarre form of recreation. I
could never really come to grips with why people wanted to do it. It's
a terrible affliction.
"I've never forgotten watching people put syringes in their arms and
drawing the blood back. If they were a registered addict, they weren't
frightened of police intervention."
Back in Australia, Mr Savage stuck with policing, mostly in uniform
roles, and worked his way to become station commander at Mildura for
six years before his election to State Parliament in 1996.
Mr Savage and his wife, Gaie, a doctor, first went to Mildura in 1982
seeking a healthier lifestyle than Melbourne offered, and are raising
their two children there.
Russell Savage is often described as a moral conservative, and
although he says he's not too sure what that means, the people of
Mildura seem to know and like it.
Today, at 52, the rangy ex-cop with the traditional values is riding a
wave of popularity. His office on Eighth Street is festooned with
certificates of appreciation from local organisations.
After being elected the state's first independent member in 1996 on
resentment about local government amalgamations and the end of the
Vinelander train service, he was returned with an increased majority
last September on even more widespread rural resentment of the
Liberal-National coalition.
In a traditionally conservative electorate, he has even overcome most
of its initial shock that, along with other independents Craig Ingram
and Susan Davies, he put the Bracks Government into power.
But he is at pains to say: "This is a very conservative Labor Party.
This is the most conservative Labor Government we have ever seen in
Victoria. They are doing things you would expect would come out of the
National and Liberal parties." An example, he says, is its support for
rural areas.
`I feel very comfortable with 90 per cent of what they do," he says.
He has written to Steve Bracks to explain his rare disagreement with
the premier on the injecting-room issue.
Mr Savage had flagged during a debate in State Parliament last
November that he would be hard to persuade on the issue, but he
delayed a final judgment.
"I thought that (Dr David) Penington would come up with some solutions
to the peripheral problems," he said, for example the way injecting
rooms have a "honeypot" effect, attracting addicts and recreational
users.
Mr Savage has read the Penington report and does not believe Professor
Penington has come up with solutions. He also queries his wider stance.
"I've had some concerns that Professor Penington has a certain view on
the drug issue, and therefore, I'm not sure whether he can make
objective observations. I'm afraid I'm disappointed in the way he's
approached this issue.
"By using Professor Penington, you're going to come up with a likely
support for safe-injecting facilities, because he's always indicated a
certain attitude towards drug rehabilitation not shared by everybody
in the community."
Nevertheless, he and Craig Ingram have a meeting scheduled with Dr
Penington next Thursday, and Mr Savage gives the Government plenty of
credit for grappling with the issue.
Why This Ex-bobby Turned Politician Won't Raise The White Flag On Heroin
Russell Savage's first glimpse of heroin addiction, in the squalor of
a Trafalgar Square public lavatory, produced an abhorrence which stays
with him today.
It is a revulsion which, combined with the former cop's practical
knowledge of policing and a surprisingly vehement scepticism about
"drug-policy experts", will not let him accept the concept of legal
supervised injecting rooms under any circumstances.
"Philosophically, I just can't do it," he says, seeing it as the
"white flag" approach to drug control. Instead, Mr Savage proposes a
revitalised attack to "take control of the streets" back from the drug
dealers, driving heroin underground.
The upshot is a crucial vote lost to the Bracks Government's ability
to legislate for five injecting rooms in heroin hotspots through
Melbourne suburbs - five policing "no-go" zones which Mr Savage sees
as amounting to heroin legalisation.
"What's going to be the protocol for the police?" he asks. "Every
heroin addict and dealer will say to police `Oh, but I'm on my way to
the safe-injecting facility' and that's going to be a major problem.
You are actually going to make it very difficult to police heroin."
Raised on a farm at Red Hill South on Mornington Peninsula, Russell
Savage went to England in 1966 for a working holiday and became a
London bobby. It was the "swinging '60s", and the youth revolution was
in full swing.
He was there on March 17, 1968, outside the American embassy for the
so-called Battle of Grosvenor Square, one of the biggest anti-Vietnam
War protests in London. And his scrapbooks reveal a front-page photo
of him in The Times of May 27, 1968, tumbling and losing his helmet
beneath a demonstration in Seville Street against the French embassy.
Mostly, though, the job of Constable Savage was to patrol on foot the
elegant West End streets from the Palace of Westminster, Downing
Street, and Whitehall to Trafalgar Square - a comparatively sterile,
crime-free zone.
But sometimes, Constable Savage would be called to inspect a lavatory
as a result of complaints about it being used by addicts. Often,
though, there was nothing he could do.
"They were known as registered drug addicts back then, but there was a
traffic in heroin as well. They used to get the tablets to take away,
and you'd find heroin addicts in public toilets shooting up.
"I thought it was pretty awful, actually. Being a country boy from
Victoria, I thought it was a pretty bizarre form of recreation. I
could never really come to grips with why people wanted to do it. It's
a terrible affliction.
"I've never forgotten watching people put syringes in their arms and
drawing the blood back. If they were a registered addict, they weren't
frightened of police intervention."
Back in Australia, Mr Savage stuck with policing, mostly in uniform
roles, and worked his way to become station commander at Mildura for
six years before his election to State Parliament in 1996.
Mr Savage and his wife, Gaie, a doctor, first went to Mildura in 1982
seeking a healthier lifestyle than Melbourne offered, and are raising
their two children there.
Russell Savage is often described as a moral conservative, and
although he says he's not too sure what that means, the people of
Mildura seem to know and like it.
Today, at 52, the rangy ex-cop with the traditional values is riding a
wave of popularity. His office on Eighth Street is festooned with
certificates of appreciation from local organisations.
After being elected the state's first independent member in 1996 on
resentment about local government amalgamations and the end of the
Vinelander train service, he was returned with an increased majority
last September on even more widespread rural resentment of the
Liberal-National coalition.
In a traditionally conservative electorate, he has even overcome most
of its initial shock that, along with other independents Craig Ingram
and Susan Davies, he put the Bracks Government into power.
But he is at pains to say: "This is a very conservative Labor Party.
This is the most conservative Labor Government we have ever seen in
Victoria. They are doing things you would expect would come out of the
National and Liberal parties." An example, he says, is its support for
rural areas.
`I feel very comfortable with 90 per cent of what they do," he says.
He has written to Steve Bracks to explain his rare disagreement with
the premier on the injecting-room issue.
Mr Savage had flagged during a debate in State Parliament last
November that he would be hard to persuade on the issue, but he
delayed a final judgment.
"I thought that (Dr David) Penington would come up with some solutions
to the peripheral problems," he said, for example the way injecting
rooms have a "honeypot" effect, attracting addicts and recreational
users.
Mr Savage has read the Penington report and does not believe Professor
Penington has come up with solutions. He also queries his wider stance.
"I've had some concerns that Professor Penington has a certain view on
the drug issue, and therefore, I'm not sure whether he can make
objective observations. I'm afraid I'm disappointed in the way he's
approached this issue.
"By using Professor Penington, you're going to come up with a likely
support for safe-injecting facilities, because he's always indicated a
certain attitude towards drug rehabilitation not shared by everybody
in the community."
Nevertheless, he and Craig Ingram have a meeting scheduled with Dr
Penington next Thursday, and Mr Savage gives the Government plenty of
credit for grappling with the issue.
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