The Australian War Memorial’s recent vague commitment to a “much broader, a much deeper depiction” of colonial violence against Indigenous people risks being compromised by an absence of detail and sound historical context.
In late September Brendan Nelson, the chairman of the memorial’s council, said the organisation had decided on a “much broader, a much deeper depiction and presentation of the violence committed against Indigenous people, initially by British, then by pastoralists, then by police, and then by Aboriginal militia”.
Note: Nelson did not say the memorial was committed to a broader and deeper depiction of the “frontier wars”. That is because he and others associated with the memorial – while acknowledging frontier violence against Indigenous people by military regiments, police, pastoralists and militias – do not accept that the violence equated to “war”.
Instructively the minister for veterans affairs, Matt Keogh, also chose his words carefully. He said: “I think it’s important to recognise that the war memorial already has some recognition of frontier conflict, and I’m aware that as part of the expansion program there will be some greater reflection on that.”
“I think that the recognition and reflection on frontier conflict is a responsibility for all of our cultural institutions, not just here at the war memorial.”
No mention of frontier wars there either. The most interesting thing about Keogh’s remarks was his assertion that the responsibility for reflecting frontier conflict ought to be spread among the war memorial and other cultural institutions. While this is true, it seems to ignore the fact that all of the other major Canberra-based national institutions have for decades already significantly and meaningfully reflected the frontier wars and conflict against Aboriginal people, which killed by conservative estimate at least 60,000 Indigenous men, women and children, upon which the white Australian federation was founded.
The plain truth is that the war memorial has long been the obstinate outlier in that space. It has pushed back under the directorships of Nelson (director for seven years before leaving and recently returning as council chair before outlining his departure at the end of 2022 to become president of weapons manufacturer Boeing International) and others, against widespread suggestions the institution ought meaningfully reflect, as part of its mandate to chronicle the Australian societal impact of warfare, frontier “conflict” and “war”.
Nelson, current director Matt Anderson and the memorial more generally defend what they insist is a record of chronicling frontier violence by pointing to the institution’s collection of 63 artworks that reference the issue. But the truth is that few such items are often displayed and that merely having such works in the collection does not translate to a meaningful depiction of frontier violence, war or conflict (call it what you will – sound research doesn’t hide behind semantics!) in the context of Australia’s martial history.
Nelson had also consistently insisted that the story of frontier conflict was the duty of the National Museum of Australia, not the memorial.
Precisely what the memorial intends to do in this space has been subject to quite some verbal contortion. As the Honest History organisation recently pointed out, Anderson, in his appearance on Rachel Perkins’ remarkable documentary The Australian Wars, said: “what we [the memorial] seek to do is to tell the story of frontier violence in the way in which it affected the men and women who joined the Australian Imperial Forces and went away”.
This makes little sense at all, in my view. It is as nonsensical as the memorial’s attempts in the past to use the story of “Black diggers” (Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people who have served Australia in the defence force) as some sort of fig-leaf for its intransigence on frontier wars.
I started writing about the memorial’s intransigence on meaningfully representing frontier violence as part of Australia’s military history well over a decade ago. I still recall the response I got nine years ago when I asked the memorial if, under then newly appointed director, Nelson, the memorial would consider depicting frontier conflict.
I got what might be called a “look over there”-type response.
Indeed, back then a spokeswoman responded that the memorial “holds a rich collection of material related to Indigenous servicemen and women from the first world war”.
“This includes embarkation information, prisoner of war records, Red Cross files, personal letters, service details, works of art, photographs and medals. We also have a significant project under way. ‘The Guide To Indigenous Service Collections at the Memorial’ will identify Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islanders who served during the first world war and display records and collection material related to their individual service.”
It is little wonder that right now, while the war memorial figures out precisely how it might chronicle frontier conflict or war or violence, it finds itself simultaneously challenged from progressives and somewhat besieged by conservative defenders of what many consider to be a “sacred” institution that should, they believe, dedicate itself solely to the equally sacred (and white) story of Anzac.
Apparently echoing Anderson from The Australian Wars, the RSL Australia president, Greg Melick, recently said: “While some frontier conflicts have been featured in Australian War Memorial galleries and touring exhibitions, these have been mounted to provide some context to the subsequent service of First Nations personnel in the ADF. The Australian War Memorial honours the sacrifice of those who have served our nation in armed conflicts and peacekeeping operations, and it is right and appropriate that this is exclusively maintained.”
So, any meaningful shift in the war memorial’s policy on frontier conflict under the Labor government will need to amount to more than acquiring and hanging new artwork in a dedicated space. It must memorialise those 60,000-plus Indigenous people killed on the frontier in the same way as it does the 100,000-plus Australian personnel who died on overseas operations.
In the words of Henry Reynolds, the living Australian historian who has perhaps done more than any other to reveal the extent of Australian frontier violence: “We will certainly know that we are entering a new era when a tomb of an unknown warrior is placed next to the grave of the unknown soldier in the Memorial’s inner sanctum.”
• Paul Daley is a Guardian Australia columnist
