Anzac Day has come and gone as
principle urgers like Australian War memorial Director Brendan Nelson and NSW
Anzac Centenary chief and ex-General Peter Cosgrove crank up the volume on
their plans for the 2015 Gallipoli anniversary. On the surface this year’s
Anzac commemorations continued to demonstrate rude good health with new records
for dawn service attendance – close to 50,000 in Melbourne and 35,000 in
Canberra.
But the commemorations have not
gone unchallenged with thoughtful critiques this year appearing in the
mainstream media from
Clare Wright,
Ian
Sysons,
Christopher
Bantick,
Ben
Pobjie,
Kim
Johnston, among others. There was
Robert
Bollard’s new book re-challenging the myths of Gallipoli and World War One.
And a
debate
on the “puff” versus “substance” of Anzac Day, featuring Marilyn Lake, Jeff
Sparrow and ex-ADF solider Graham Wilson, against a team including new Australian
“War” Memorial generalissimo, Brendan Nelson, saw Lake et al win 71% of the
250-300 person audience vote, with few pro-Anzac contributions from the floor
discussion. When it comes to the arguments the anti-Anzac perspective is strong
but is crowded out by the jingoistic commemoration, fuelled by a largely
obsequious and compliant mainstream media.
But is it possible to detect a
whiff of panic and bluster among the Anzac legend urgers? Are they running the
risk of going “over the top” in the run-up to 2015? Might the bubble burst?
While the numbers turning out to
ceremonies in Australia and overseas are impressive we should remember that
they represent a shifting concentration of public turnout, towards dawn
ceremonies, that may be still be less than the number who turned out for (the
now less significant) veterans’ marches during the 1950s and early 1960s. Should
this perhaps be the point of comparison, relative
to population size, rather than comparing the current turnouts with the downturn
from the late 1960s?
Anecdotally and subjectively I
recall a bigger fuss being made in my hometown in the 1950s and early 60s with
not one but two Anzac marches, a preceding schools march on April 24 (with the
benefit of losing a double period in the classroom two mornings a week, in the weeks
prior, to practice marching). And even in the classroom it seemed then that
Anzac Day received more attention with mass compositions written on Simpson and
his Donkey etc. On this point I take issue with Marilyn Lake. It seems to me as
a teacher who has spent a good part of my teaching of history and politics at
matriculation and university level, the interesting question is not the use of
pro-Anzac materials provided by Remembrance institutions like the AWM and
Veteran’s Affairs, but why, after decades of teaching by baby-boomers like me: the
WWI “Home Front” conscription struggles, the Vietnam War and peace movements; the
Anzac Legend is so enduring. This points to the more important cultural and
political setting outside the school.
Again, anecdotally, even the “good
war”, World War Two, received more attention back in the 1950s and 1960s. Coral
Sea Week, following close on the heels of Anzac Day was prominent and in my
town and featured an annual fly over by military aircraft, (and we were nowhere
near an airbase) with pilots flown back by transport that evening for a ball!
This was a celebration of the alliance with the US. There has been the more
recent nationalistic shift to Kokoda and the bombing of Darwin, but with the
alliance still in tow.
This writer senses that what we may
be seeing with the current commemorative hype may be all we are going to get –
that the Anzac urgers have committed much of their army to the field. Living in
a part of Melbourne where “leakage” from such patriotic events might show up in
boozy public displays of nationalism, there was none of this around on Anzac
Day this year, as the populace largely seemed to get on with enjoying the sunny
late autumn opportunities of a (in this case informally extended) long weekend -
something that is going to happened every time Anzac Day does not fall on a
Wednesday.
The jingoes potentially are facing
problems – could it be that the 2015 anniversary might mirror 1915 where the news
from Gallipoli caused a flush in recruitment before enthusiasm for the war
waned (back then, in the face of industrial conflict and the conscription
debates)?
As historian Clare Wright has
pointed out the revitalisation of Anzac commemoration has been part of the
political project emanating from the Hawke-Keating and Howard eras. Howard in
particular, she argued, used the Anzac legend “as a political opportunistic
tool for rallying the nation behind a particular version of Australia's
history.”
Anzac
and neo-liberalism.
Much of this relates to the emergence of a dominant and
largely unchallenged neo-liberalism in the Hawke and Howard eras. The corollary
of this emphasis on free markets and the rule of capital has been the attempt
to collapse the state back to its core military-security function: not just war
making but also anti-terrorism policing, containing unionism and border
security. This has been accentuated since 9/11 and the “war on terror”. The focus
on the state’s war-making function has required an intensifying of the military
legends provided by Anzac to sustain this. It may not be, as Wright and Marilyn
Lake argue, that the Anzac Legend crowds out other important national
narratives, such as the emergence of democracy in Australia. Rather it may be
the other way around – the weakness of any strongly articulated social
democratic, internationalist and peace alternatives in Australia’s contemporary
political culture, gives full reign to the jingoistic nationalism of the Anzac
Legend.
Both the Labor Party “Left” and the Greens, have
effectively given up on presenting antiwar perspectives. This is particularly
egregious for the Greens, which in large part began in the 1980s as an antiwar
global movement (linked to ecology through the nuclear issue). While critical
of US alliance policy, the Greens have recently subtly embraced the alliance
itself – and how many people noticed, especially in the mainstream media (MSM),
that the 2010 Afghan War debate contained no Green criticism of that alliance –
the equivalent of criticizing global warming without mentioning carbon.
At its worst this is electorally-driven cowardice by
Labor’s “Left” and the nominally antiwar Greens - at its best it is a gross political
negligence. However in the context of global economic crisis, the neo-liberal
consensus underpinning war culture is in danger of fracturing. This, coupled
with the waning enthusiasm for the war on terror and the failures of the wars
in Iraq and Afghanistan, may open up more space for alternative political visions,
threatening the Anzac Legend.
The jingoes’
commemorative problems.
In this wider context there are other more immediate
commemorative problems.
There is the increased and overt military presence on
Anzac Day, with catafalque guards, fly-pasts, speech-making by the military
brass, and the presence of uniformed veterans. Unlike the short-term volunteer
armies of the two world wars, and conscripts of Vietnam, veterans from Iraq and
Afghanistan contain among their numbers a higher percentage of still-serving
soldiers. This increased presence of uniforms on Anzac Day, and its threat to
the image of the citizen-veteran has been concerning enough for arch-hawk and
Australian Defence Association chief
Neil
James to express concern.
The military is in a jam here. The war culture, which the
Anzac mythologies promote, is a “
Janissary” culture which says
it is fine to have sacrificed one’s life for empire (British or American) and
military defeat (Gallipoli, Vietnam, Iraq and Afghanistan). This has been
essential to maintaining Australia’s war machine – one still built around the
alliance with the US. There is also the general fear, recently expressed by the
Chief of Army, that post-Afghanistan, governments might be tempted to wind back
military spending and recruitment, as happened for a time after Vietnam. This
is a particular danger at a time of fiscal problems associated with the GFC and
these anxieties have been expressed around the release of the latest Defence
White Paper. Hence the military’s hyperactive support for Anzac commemoration,
a support that risks martialising and damaging it.
But along with this is the shift in focus away from the
big marches as a consequence of the overall declining number of veterans. While
we need to remember 17,000 Australian’s have served in Iraq, and the wash-up from
Afghanistan may be similar, the veterans from the first AIF have gone, the
second AIF almost gone, and the 50,000 who served in Vietnam are ageing. It is
doubtful, and controversial, as to whether families wearing dead ancestors
medals can compensate for this (ex-ADF Graham Wilson savaged this trend at the
above-mentioned Melbourne Town Hall debate). Thus the shift to the dawn services
and the attempt to widen commemoration to the Western Front and to Kokoda and Darwin,
encouraged by the remembrance elites in order to guarantee the survival of the
Anzac Legend.
The focus on the dawn services and the cemeteries of Gallipoli
and the Western Front however is problematic. Thousands of young people are looking
not at marching hero-veterans, but at the graves of the dead. This produces
conflicting emotions among these participants about the nature and purpose of
war, as has been documented in the research of historian
Bruce
Scates. Those turning out to these ceremonies may be open to alternative
antiwar narratives. They’re just not getting them.
Soft
Jingoism.
One of the responses to these problems, and the more
questionable, and questioned, wars in Vietnam, Iraq and Afghanistan, has been
for the commemorative elites, the military and politicians, to shift to a kind
of “soft jingoism’ which admits of the “futility” of war but still sees it as
inevitable: a kind of melancholy
acceptance of war. This is reflected in the just-ending “peace” exhibit at
the Shrine of Remembrance in Melbourne (see comment my earlier “Lies of War
Memorials” blog below) with its website summation that “peace cannot be taken
for granted and, it seems, demands our eternal vigilance” a softened version of
the longstanding RSL motto that “the price of liberty is
eternal vigilance”.
This melancholy acceptance of the permanence of
war can be seen in the Anzac Day speech given by the Prime Minister,
Julia Gillard,
at Townsville. The site of a major military base, the location of this year’s
speech is testament to the conscious link between the Anzac-driven war culture
and the war machine.
The danger for the jingoes is that this softened
approach may nonetheless open the door to more critical appraisals of the Anzac
legend. What do we make for example of the Anzac Day comments of the Tasmanian
Governor who in 2012 suggested that Anzac Day should be used to “ask hard
questions about the meaning of wars, their causes and outcomes” and
this
year made controversial reference to Australian soldiers pissing his pants
in fear in Vietnam, while cautioning that Gallipoli centenary may cause people
to overlook the brutality and reality of war. Veterans, he said
deserve honouring and remembering as they struggled to overcome
the terror and do their duty: not the mythical tall, lean, bronzed and laconic
Anzac, enthusiastically and unflinchingly carrying the torch of freedom in the
face of murderous enemy fire, Australia needs to drop the sentimental myths
that Anzac day has attracted.
This may still be soft jingoism, but of a form that runs the
risk of straying too far off message.
Can the bubble be burst?
While the jingoes run the risk of puffing up an
unsustainable Anzac mythology it is going to take more than a little help from
outside to burst the bubble
Hopefully this may come through a revitalised antiwar
movement. The problem is that, notwithstanding the actions by a number of antiwar
groups, and Anzac-related initiatives like the Melbourne Town Hall debate, such
a cohesive and assertive movement doesn’t really exist at the moment. Of course it may be possible that the
1914/15 centenaries, and the jingoes over-reach, may open the door to the entry
into the debate of the thousands who came out in Australia before the Iraq War.
This shows how quickly political support for an antiwar position can come to
the surface. There certainly seems to be a potential antiwar sentiment linked
to lack of public support for the Iraq and Afghanistan adventures.
Occasions such as the centenary of the outbreak of World War
One and the Anzac Day events of 2014 and 2015 might be an opportunity for large
events such as “Never Again” rallies around the anniversary of the outbreak of
World War One, or Anzac Day Eve sunset vigils. The latter may provide a counterweight
to the dawn services, pointing out that for the victims of war the day is
ending, not beginning.
But how to get to this point? Much of this will be tied to
the general re-emergence of political alternatives to neo-liberalism and its
related military-security nationalism. But much will also need to be done to
actively combat the Anzac Legend, and the war culture it sustains, in order to
build to action around the centenaries. The entry of Wikileaks into the up-coming
federal election may have some impact given the antiwar tenor of their
disclosures, particularly as the result of Bradley Manning’s work. But clearly
the main focus is going to have to be at a grassroots activist level, hopefully
building support for wider action.
There are already signs this is happening with Anzac eve
peace concerts and vigils emerging in Australia’s major cities, and the
Melbourne Town Hall debate, showing there is a thirst for alternative
activities and perspectives. However even this can become a battleground with
the jingoes seeking to appropriate the soporific term “peace” as evidenced in
the Shrine of Remembrance Peace exhibit (which eschews any meaningful reference
to Australia’s antiwar history) and the Anzac eve concert spot in Brisbane
occupied by the RSL.
We need more than a “peace” response. We need an assertive antiwar response that specifically and
critically takes on the historical misrepresentations and omissions of the
Anzac Legend and the memorialisation of war: the absurd notion of a (masculinist)
national ethos or character type emerging from Australia’s war history; the
absence of any commemoration of the non-Australian military victims of war; the
assertions that Australian soldiers have died in war for “democracy”,
“freedom”, or just “us”; and the shameful celebration of a national history
that has seen Australia almost continuously at war.
We need a critique that links the Anzac-driven war culture
to the maintenance of Australia’s war machine, its alliance relationship to the
US, and its bloated military expenditures.
There is, of course, a need for a compassionate respect for veterans.
Given what we now know about mental and physical health issues, and the grief
of veterans and families for the dead, we need to give them space to gather –
for veterans for example, meeting and seeing each other is important (I came to
appreciate this in part from the experience of my WW2 ex-POW father). This of
course reveals the true cruelty of the Anzac Legend-driven war culture, the way
it appropriates the personal experiences of soldiers, and the grief of
families, and fashions this into a collectivised, phony, national legend and
mawkish, insincere public grieving, dominated by politicians, military brass
and remembrance elites. Any challenges to this during official commemorations will probably have to come from
antiwar veterans and their families.
Occupying
war memorials?
However outside and around the official commemorations,
“war” memorials are prime sites for protest, utilising them for example for
“flash” poetry readings, antiwar songs, speeches or visual protests and antiwar
performance. Social media provides outlets for the dissemination of these activities.
Memorials can be useful sites for protest action in support of Bradley Manning,
Julian Assange, Wikileaks, and other activists under legal threat. This kind of
action can be done by individuals, through to small and larger groups of
people.
As I have argued in an earlier blog below, these monuments are
not in truth “war” memorials but military memorials and museums – they leave
out stories about the (non-Australian military) victims of war or any analysis
of the causes of war. And they are not (as Alan Bennett points out in The
History Boys) about remembering, but forgetting.
Hopefully, actions and debates around Anzac Day, and at
memorials year round, might start to inspire (or embarrass) more prominent
political and cultural figures to come out and shine the light on the
“inconvenient truth” about the Anzac Legend.
That it is a lie.