Until the Prime Minister's remark that Aboriginal people who chose to live on outstations were making taxpayer-subsidised "lifestyle choices", the main emotion of people like Ms Lawford was one of anxiety. Keith and Lillian Lawford in front of their home on Budgarjuk outstation on the Dampier Peninsula, one of the communities that could be closed. Credit:Justin McManus The West Australian government's intention to close roughly half the state's 274 remote communities, after being pressured by the Commonwealth to resume service delivery, has instilled fear in people like the Lawfords that they will be forced to move to the larger communities or towns. Now, Mr Abbott's unfortunate choice of words has prompted many to channel their apprehension into anger toward the politician who has immersed himself in Indigenous Australia as much as any other, and who wants to be remembered as the Prime Minister for Indigenous Affairs. At the nearby community of Beagle Bay, where families like the Lawfords buy their weekly provisions, the reaction is summed up by John Cooper, who was two years old when he was forcibly removed from his parents from a station called Alice Downs, just outside Halls Creek.

"I watched Tony Abbott when he said it and I'm very sorry I voted for him," says the 72-year-old, who still works a five-day week. His workmates nod in agreement. Prime Minister Tony Abbott with school attendance officers in Yirrkala during his visit to North East Arnhem Land in 2014. Credit:Alex Ellinghausen One consequence of Mr Abbott's intervention in the debate over planned closures is that it has focussed attention on the contribution outstations can make toward closing the gap on Indigenous disadvantage. That, in the end, might just mitigate the damage to Mr Abbott's Indigenous credentials. Why? Because the emphatic view of residents and those who work with those in outstations is that they save taxpayer dollars, protect heritage, reduce crime and improve health and happiness. Properly supported, they can also offer pathways toward engagement with mainstream Australia.

Sue Davenport is the manager of cultural heritage at Kanyirninpa Jukurrpa (KL), an organisation representing the Martu people in WA's Western Desert in the Pilbara region that has employed some 350 people as rangers. "We have three remote communities – communities Tony Abbott is talking about – that are dry communities, where there is very little violence, everyone is turning up to work and the kids are going to school. Which bit of that is not working?" she asks. An evaluation of programs aimed at achieving social, economic and cultural goals for the Martu published in December found they equated to a reduction of 1150 alcohol-related incidents involving the justice system over a five-year period. Prepared by SVA Consulting, it found the programs had "generated transformative change" across Martu communities. "Nobody knows which communities are under threat, so it has certainly caused a great deal of alarm," says KL's manager of governance and strategy, Peter Johnson. "And without knowing what criteria the state government might apply, we are not in a position to responsibly reassure communities."

Lillian Lawford, a former health worker, says she counts herself lucky that she raised her five children on the outstation, far from the temptations of drugs and alcohol and the influence of bad friends. She remains baffled by the decision to progressively close down the work for the dole scheme that provided employment on outstations, and encouraged people to live on their country, and is even more confused by the push to now close down outstations altogether. Loading But she is adamant on one point. If Red Soil, or Budgarjuk, is designated for closure, she won't be going anywhere. "We'll squat – and live off the land." Follow us on Twitter