This is a very hard blog for me to write.
It is hard because it involves elements of my heritage and upbringing, and so there is the risk that emotion could cloud objectivity. Which is something any serious activist must be careful of.
I am from Australia and in that country (and New Zealand) April 25 is, for all intents and purposes, a holy day -- at least for the Anglo population. ANZAC Day marks the anniversary of the first major military action fought by Australian and New Zealand (ANZAC) forces at Gallipoli, Turkey, during the First World War. 1915 to be precise.
What happened on that day, and in ensuing months, is well documented in books and on the Internet. There are many monuments in the Antipodean countries dedicated to this battle. Countless songs and poems have been written and stories handed down. It has also been the subject of various movies, most notably one of Mel Gibson's earliest efforts simply called "Gallipoli."
And every April 25 the two nations fall almost silent in a collective act of reverence almost without par anywhere else in the world.
Gallipoli was a military blunder and a foregone slaughter. These sorry elements, however, are what also turned the battle of Gallipoli into the stuff of legend. The task for the landing troops was a nightmare: take the higher ground from the Turks who were dug in with machine guns at the ready.
The suicidal bravery of the ANZAC troops -- many just teenagers -- is ingrained in the psyche of most white Australians. We were taught about it in school. Many of my own generation had fathers who'd fought in WWII and/or the Korea War, and so we were predisposed to focus on this pivotal moment in modern Australian history.
It is difficult to walk the line between reverence and criticism -- but one must remember that these things need not be mutually exclusive. I have nothing but respect for the courage of the ANZACs. But I feel compelled to question any war, any battle, any loss of life. For, too often, wars are fought by good and often naive young men on behalf of greedy men who are not concerned with loss of life -- provided the loss isn't theirs or their loved ones.
I believe that defensive wars are morally justifiable. But even in these instances, for that moral justification to exist, someone has certainly mounted an immoral offensive to begin with. So it is our obligation, as free and privileged citizens of the world, to search for root causes of war -- and to tear out those roots for all time. These causes are not generally found in the fluff of high school history books, sadly. The truth is not only harder to bear, it is harder to find.
But if we do indeed acknowledge a debt to those who fought and died in wars -- and to those who simply died -- then it is to not only pay our respects once a year, but to make the effort to learn about the true causes of war and do all in our power to eradicate them.
I have experienced many ANZAC Days and I am not anti the occasion. Far from it. But care must be taken, as emotional beings, to make sure that our emotion is spent on love and remembrance and not romanticizing the conflict. It's easy to fall into the latter and I have done it myself in the past.
But I've also seen documentaries in which ancient ANZACs were interviewed. And for most of them the romance of going off to war -- the great adventure of the time -- soon evaporated as good mates were cut down with machine gun fire at Gallipoli. The men who were actually there were likely more objective about this moment in history than anyone else. And I imagine this goes for most battles.
Something to think about. More on this very important subject soon in Part 2.
Take care,
Adrian Zupp
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