With Anzac Day over, and the 100th anniversary of the Gallipoli campaign just under a decade away, it's time to re-examine, re-frame, and hopefully tame, the Anzac legend for the start of its next century.
You don't need to be an expert in every component of Anzac values to understand that the legend has a stranglehold over Australian public life. It enables people to feel comfortable in myths and non-sustainable notions of our nationhood rather than in identifying the new symbols and values which will give meaning and life to Australia as it moves forward.
The widespread acceptance of Anzac Day's quasi-religious sacredness is evidence alone of this viewpoint. Historian and soon-to-be appointed director of the Arts faculty at the Australian National University, Professor Joan Beaumont has observed that contemporary Australia is obsessed with materialism. She adds that 'Anzac, which has often been called a secular religion, is filling the void of meaning.'
Without demeaning the sacrifice of those Australians who gave their lives and others who left their youth at Gallipoli and western European battlefields during World War I, this rigid persistence to a flawed tradition is not healthy for national development.
Even for those victims of war in Crete, Tobruk, Kokoda, Changi, Burma, Borneo and in the jungles of New Guinea, 'Anzac' on its own is not a satisfactory legend because it fails to address the social and political complexities of the Australia then, and the Australia of today. Equally important, it is not a guide post for our future.
'Anzac' became a politically pliable legend soon after 1915 and has remained one since. Melbourne teacher and academic, Dr Martin Ball recently questioned the impending fate of 'Anzac' under Kevin Rudd's leadership. Earlier he noted its fluidity under two preceding prime ministers.
'Throughout Howard's term, commentators on all sides of politics observed how successfully he used Anzac as a medium to talk to the electorate. Rather than trying to historicise and re-interpret Anzac as Paul Keating had done, Howard's approach was to generalise the Anzac tradition and make it open and current to all Australians.'
In short, for all its perceived sanctity, Anzac is a political plaything. Even more disturbingly, its chief 'playmaker' is not our political leaders, but arguably Australia's most anachronistic institution, the RSL — most recently seen thundering scorn against a planned hot-air ballooning festival in the ACT due to commence on Anzac Day morning.
RSL national president Major General Bill