Anshu De Silva Wijeyeratne compares how Britain and Australia have reconciled national pride with a troubled historical record.
In his seminal piece, Imagined Communities, Benedict Anderson describes the nation as an ‘imagined community’. In contrast to an ‘actual’ community based on regular face-to-face interaction between its members, the nation’s citizens are unified in thought: “In the minds of each lives the image of their communion.” This fictitious community can be defined in opposition to the ‘state’, a politico-legal order requiring, rather than inspiring, obedience through its monopoly on coercive power.
However, states and nations are not mutually exclusive. Modernist writers suggest that states foster the unifying effect of national identity to promote social stability. A continuous process of re-imagination is required to ensure the nation’s relevance in its citizens’ hearts and minds. In both Australia and the United Kingdom, a hotly debated aspect of this identity has been the legacy of colonialism. States’ responses have diverged greatly, with mixed results.
Attitudes towards colonialism have changed markedly. Initially, colonialism was viewed as the hallmark of great powers. As well as being the source of national prestige and wealth, colonisation was seen as part of the `white man’s burden’ to improve `backward,’ non-European civilisations. However, revisionist accounts highlighting national fragmentation, disease, exploitation and even genocide, have been difficult to accommodate within national stories.
Slowly but surely, Australia appears to have reached a consensus. As early as the 1930s, over 100 indigenous people organized an `Official Day of Mourning’ to demand recognition of their losses and equal rights. The 1967 Referendum on citizenship rights was resoundingly successful. Writers such as Henry Reynolds heeded the call to end the ‘Great Australian Silence’ on the indigenous story. In 1993, the High Court’s Mabo decision overturned the legal justification of terra nullius. Most poignantly, the 1997 Bringing Them Home report shocked the public conscience, thus putting an apology firmly on the national agenda.
Leading politicians, including former Prime Minister John Howard, and academics like Geoffrey Blainey, have condemned the left’s supposed ‘black armband’ view of history. Howard claimed that it “reflects a belief that most Australian history… has been little more than a disgraceful story of imperialism, exploitation, racism, sexism and other forms of discrimination”.
Nonetheless, Kevin Rudd’s electoral success indicated a shift in community sentiment. Rudd’s apology received bi-partisan support in parliament and was approved by 68 per cent of Australians, according to a Galaxy Research Poll in February 2008. This has vindicated the view that an apology was required to express a national desire for forgiveness and reconciliation. Whether this new, re-imagined identity will lead to constructive developments in overcoming the significant welfare chasm is yet to be seen. Regardless, it indicates that reconciliation has found a primary place within Australia’s national story.
In contrast, Britain’s discourse has been far less conciliatory. As in Australia, British politicians have placed national identity at the forefront of the political agenda. However, this has been driven by a politics of fear. Concerns about segregation and homegrown terrorism have led to a need for what former Home Secretary Jack Straw describes as “a set of values that have not just to be shared” but are “non-negotiable”. British leaders on both sides of the political divide have echoed Howard’s `black armband’ comments. Straw’s successor as Home Secretary, David Blunkett, commented that “we have tended to downplay our culture and we need to reinforce pride in what we have.” Opposition leader, David Cameron, noted that British schools should avoid politically correct criticisms of empire, so that all children are taught to be proud of British values and history.
Whilst national unity is important, problems occur when national pride overrides a balanced and accurate historical narrative. Political commentator Arun Kundnani notes how the Life in the United Kingdom Handbook portrays how Britain brought more regular, acceptable and impartial systems of law and order to their colonies and unified disparate tribal areas. It neglects to mention the massacres and colonial abuses that are undeniable fact. Such a state-sanctioned narrative is divisive. Kundnani suggests that becoming a British citizen is transformed into “an initiation into a superior civilization.” This is particularly problematic given that former colonies are a major source of prospective citizens.
National identity is a powerful, yet abstract, force. Its potency has been recognised by states and utilised as a tool of social cohesion. However, with this power comes great responsibility. In Australia, recognition of how a common understanding could help heal the wounds of the past has removed a significant symbolic obstacle to practical solutions to indigenous issues. In contrast, security concerns in the United Kingdom have led to a one-sided narrative that, ironically, is likely to generate even greater divisions within British society.
Anshu De Silva Wijeyeratne is in his second year of a combined degree in Law and International Studies, majoring in Government and International Relations
