Victoria: some floods worst since European settlement

“Victoria is also in flood. The SES is describing the mass of water descending on Horsham in the central-western Victorian region as a one-in-200-year flood event…” — ABC PM.

Can you believe this summer?


Being Australian 13: inclusive multiculturalism Aussie style 6

Like Jim Belshaw I watched Faces of America (or part thereof) before seeing Immigration Nation on SBS last night. I will give my thoughts on both tomorrow.

In this post I continue exploring the scary monster of multiculturalism.

Amazing how nominalisation can convert a word into a scary monster. I suspect the -ism makes multicultural much scarier than it was before, just as adding an -ism to a rather positive word, cosmopolitan, would cause anxiety too. Try on cosmopolitanism for size!

My view is that what has evolved here, which I shamelessly and fondly think of as inclusive multiculturalism, is actually quite a conservative and pragmatic affair, hardly a monster at all. In fact purist multiculturalismists often criticise it as window dressing, as a cunning way to manage migrants. There’s some truth in that, and I say — what a good thing! In some ways inclusive multiculturalism has been quite utilitarian, aiming for the greatest happiness of the greatest number.

So too another word that favours -ion rather than -ism, though I suppose you could have assimilationism. Oh dear, I see we already have!

as·simi·la·tion·ism (-iz′əm) noun: the policy of completely absorbing minority cultural groups into the main cultural body, esp. by intermarriage

To observant Jews assimilationism has long been a very scary monster. Only by consciously resisting full assimilation were diaspora Jews able to preserve their culture.

There can be no doubt that once we in Australia embarked post-1945 on mass immigration assimilationism was the favoured method for achieving the dream of cultural homogeneity. Only there was a problem. When it did work it wasn’t entirely a good thing. Losses occurred. In many cases it just didn’t work. Some wogs just wouldn’t give up aspects of themselves and of their cultures which they saw not only as keys to their self-respect but also superior to what Australia offered them. Often they were right, and educated the rest of us accordingly, thus improving their adopted country.

On loss, consider William Yang. William I know and have even been photographed by. He’s also the same age I am, and I can’t blame his parents for their decision to make sure William Young, as he once was, growing up in rural Queensland was as assimilated as possible. The result may have been thirty years of anguish for William, but that wasn’t the intention. After all, when William and I were growing up people like William were still being deported.

Those extracts are from a talk William Yang gave in the early 1990s. M and I were in the audience. I subsequently published it in my book From Yellow Earth to Eucalypt (Longmans 1995).

Here is how William achieved personal integration, undoing the impact of assimilation.

Is he any less Australian now that he has embraced his forgotten culture? Of course not. Inclusive multiculturalism facilitated and justified his journey.

Or take Professor Martin Krygier. This is from his 1997 Boyer Lectures: Between Fear and Hope.

…There’s no way ultimately to resolve conflicts over values, but that doesn’t mean that anything goes. There are ways of arguing about values, and some ways and some values are more defensible than others. Some, indeed, are indefensible, as I will seek to show. Others, mine as it happens, are solid as rocks. Or so I want to believe. If I were a philosopher, I would simply rely on the power of my argument to convince you to share my values. But I’m not, so I will say something about their sources and character to try to convey why I find them attractive and why they matter so to me. Of course, I would not be disappointed if you found them attractive as well. I’m an Australian. I was born, brought up and educated here. I have spent the bulk of my life here. I watch cricket for days without being bored. I expect Christmas to be hot. These facts are central to my make-up. Were they otherwise, so would I be. And yet they’re not the only pieces that make me up. For, like so many Australians, I’m the lucky beneficiary of other people’s tragedies, most immediately those of my parents. That, too, is relevant to who I am and what I think about.

My parents arrived here during the Second World War, Polish-Jewish refugees from Nazism. Their lives, families, friendships and country were ripped apart. Both my mother’s parents and her brother were murdered by the Nazis; other relatives spent years fighting or being imprisoned by them, and what was left of the family was dispersed. My parents left Poland from necessity, arrived in Australia by accident, and stayed because, after the Communist take-over of Poland, they couldn’t go home. They came to love this country and to participate actively in its affairs, but that was later. I mention these far from exceptional facts not to claim some exotic authority for my views, nor – in accordance with a budding Australian tradition – to launch a prizewinning novel but because they inform the way I think about things, what I think about and – above all – what I think matters. Combined with my birthplace, they have made me what I am: a congenital cultural hybrid, a hybrid from birth. If you prefer, a mongrel. My parents were already hybrids in Poland, since they were culturally both Polish and Jewish. So, their lives were already complicated. They became Australian hybrids differently, however, over time. What they came to learn and expect, and grew to be, in Australia interacted with their already formed personalities and cultural identities. Their hybrid condition was acquired, as is that of most, if not all adult migrants: they become different from what they once were while remaining different from those among whom they now are. Since over 20 per cent of Australians were born overseas, and 40 per cent were either so born or their parents were, there are a lot of us about.

There is also a third sort of hybrid, and I’m one of them too. I study the societies of post-communist Europe, and their fate matters a lot to me. So I’m also a vocational hybrid: coming from one world, and preoccupied with another. That also has consequences. When I’m there I think of here; when here, of there. That makes comparisons ever-present and unavoidable. All hybrids are affected, some afflicted, by overlapping cultural residues within them. They often discover to their surprise, rather than as a matter of deliberate choice, aspects of their personality – their sense of identity, belonging, sometimes longing – which define them and have moulded them, whether they like it or not…

Hybridism rather than assimilation. This is what so often happened, often for the better as far as the whole country was concerned.

Third, consider the poet Peter Skrzynecki.

Australian poet Peter Skrzynecki writes about his experiences teaching in NSW, his migrant upbringing in suburban Sydney and his attempts to assimilate, ‘fit in’ and overcome the challenges of a new life in a new land.

Of Polish Ukrainian descent, Peter was born in Germany in 1945. Escaping a world in turmoil, his family emigrated to Australia in 1949. Peter’s earliest memories of this time is the month long sea journey to Sydney on the “General Blatchford” and his time living in a migrant camp in Bathurst before moving on to the Parkes Migrant Centre. To Peter this camp was his first Australian home.

The family later moved to 10 Mary Street in the working class suburb of Regents Park in Sydney It was their castle. Peter’s father, Feliks, of whom he often writes, worked long as a labourer for the Water Board, while his mother, Kornelia spent her days working as a domestic for families in Strathfield. They grew their own vegetables and had a magnificent flower garden. Within four years number 10 Mary Street had been paid off. While his parents worked, Peter attended the local Catholic primary school and later St Patrick’s College Strathfield. Thanks to an English teacher, Brian Couch, Peter’s love of literature was fostered and his writing flourished…

His first book, There, Behind the Lids was published in 1970 followed by Headwaters in 1972 and Immigrant Chronicle in 1975. In the first two Peter wrote mainly of his experiences teaching in the country, reflecting on the natural world, the people, flora and fauna. In the third Peter wrote about his European background, his experiences as a migrant in Australia, the problems associated with being an exile, with his parents’ dispossession and the difficulties, such as racism, bigotry and resettlement, encountered by them and other immigrants in trying to assimilate to a new life in a new land.

His anthology Joseph’s coat (1985) identifies the themes and issues of Australia’s multicultural society.

Often his work is about understanding and counting the cost of assimilation.

You may find here an essay I wrote on his work. It also brings together some of the thoughts we have had so far in this series.

To be continued…

Being Australian 12: inclusive multiculturalism Aussie style 5

At this point I will insert THE email, sent to me by a former primary school classmate of English background – and I’m talking about a classmate from The Shire in 1952-3!

I’m a Pommy. Lived here longer than a lot of Aussies……………….I Fully agree

Another interesting slant on the issue – P.T.

From an Australian to an Australian

A Letter to the Editor 

cartoon1So many letter writers have explained how this land is made up of immigrants. Maybe we should turn to our history books and point out to people why today’s Australian is not willing to accept the new kind of immigrant any longer. 
Back in 1900 when there was a rush from all areas of Europe to come to
Australia, people had to get off a ship and stand in a long line in Sydney and be documented. Some would even get down on their hands and knees and kiss the ground. They made a pledge to uphold the laws and support their new country in good and bad times. They made learning English a primary rule in their new Australian households and some even changed their names to blend in with their new home. They had waved good bye to their birth place to give their children a new life and did everything in their power to help their children assimilate into one culture. 
Nothing was handed to them. No free lunches, no welfare, no labour laws to protect them.  All they had were the skills, craftsmanship and desire they had brought with them to trade for a future of prosperity. 
Most of their children came of age when World War II broke out. Australians fought along side men whose parents had come straight over from Germany, Italy, France, Japan, Czechoslovakia , Russia, Sweden, Poland and so many other places. None of these first generation Australians ever gave any thought about what country their parents had come from. They were Australians fighting Hitler, Mussolini and the Emperor of Japan. They were defending the Freedom as one people. When we liberated
France, no-one in those villages was looking for the Ukrainian-Australian or the German-Australian or the Irish-Australian. The people of  France saw only Australians.

And we carried one flag that represented our country. Not one of those immigrant sons would have thought about picking up another country’s flag and waving it to represent who they were. It would have been a disgrace to their parents who had sacrificed so much to be here.  These immigrants truly knew what it meant to be an Australian. 

And here we are in 2010 with a new kind of immigrant who wants the same rights and privileges. Only they want to achieve it by playing with a different set of rules, one that includes an Australian  passport and a guarantee of being faithful to their mother country. I’m sorry, that’s not what being an Australian is all about. Australians have been very open-hearted and open-minded regarding immigrants, whether they were fleeing poverty, dictatorship, persecution, or whatever else makes us think of those aforementioned immigrants who truly did ADOPT our country, and our flag and our morals and our customs. And left their wars, hatred, and divisions behind. I believe that the immigrants who landed in Australia in the early 1900s deserve better than that for the toil, hard work and sacrifice those legally searching for a better life. I think they would be appalled that they are being used as an example by those waving foreign country flags, fighting foreign battles on our soil, making Australians change to suit their religions and cultures, and wanting to change our countries fabric by claiming discrimination when we do not give in to their demands.

Its about time we get real and stand up for our forefathers rights, we are AUSTRALIANS!

Lest we forget it!!!

I am a Native of this Country & proud of it!


NO MORE not saying CHRISTMAS in stores and our schools,

I Want MY AUSTRALIA of birth BACK !!!

Hope this letter is read by millions of people all across


Now that is jam-packed with scary monsters and dubious historical assumptions. It is the reason for this series of posts.

Needless to say I do NOT agree with it, in fact am rather appalled by it. I will deconstruct it in a later post.

To be continued…