Nicholas Clements
Nicholas Clements is a Tasmanian historian, born in 1982, whose notable publications include The Black War (2014) and (with Henry Reynolds) Tongerlongeter (2022). His paper at the conference commenced with this vivid image:
At 6am on the 1st of October 1830, before a crowd of spectators, more than a hundred armed men mustered in the courtyard of the Hobart post office. At 7am, Lieutenant-Governor George Arthur rode into the centre of the square and addressed the men for over an hour – “everything”, one volunteer recalled, “being done in Military style”. Then they marched out of town in formation ...
These men formed an advance party of what became known as the Black Line – the largest offensive military operation ever conducted on Australian soil. It comprised 2,200 soldiers, settlers and convicts, or 9.3% of the colony’s population – a proportion similar to the 8.5% of Australians who enlisted in WWI.
Following are the concluding paragraphs of the presentation, made available courtesy of the author. (A further comment from Clements.)
***
Tony Abbott recently wrote in The Australian: “There’s no doubt that Tongerlongeter and his warriors should be remembered and honoured as doughty fighters for their peoples and for the way of life they knew and cherished.”[1]But remembered where, and honoured how? Should it be here – in the building where the nation decides which wars matter. Any answer to that question has to reckon with Gallipoli, because it’s the measure by which Australians judge such things.
Gallipoli was a remarkable chapter in our country’s history and it’s entirely appropriate that we commemorate that campaign and honour those who fought in it. But what if Gallipoli hadn’t happened? Yes, 8,700 young men would have lived, and our national legend would have been crafted from different timber. But would the fate of our continent have diverged significantly? Probably not. The same cannot be said of our frontier wars. These conflicts – fought on this country for this country – determined who would own this land and what culture would prosper.
In other ways, our frontier wars have much in common with Gallipoli. In both cases, white Australians were the invaders. Few had any choice in where they’d been sent. None had arrived with hatred for or even experience of their enemy – and perhaps that’s why, in both cases, they underestimated who they were up against.
But with Gallipoli, neither our status as the invaders, nor as the losers, has dampened our commemorative ardour. We even honour the men who beat us. Australians don’t merely respect the Turks for defending their homeland, we have erected a memorial to Atatürk himself – it’s just over the road. Why did we do this? Because we understood what he was fighting for.
Defending one’s own country against invasion is surely the oldest and most honoured reason for taking up arms. We felt it ourselves in WWII. It’s why my grandfather and the other Aussie diggers who resisted the Japanese advance through New Guinea fought so tenaciously, and why we venerate them so highly. We cannot forget that Tongerlongeter and Montpelliatta were defending their country against invasion too. Is any cause more noble? Are any of the veterans we honour here more Australian?
The War Memorial’s decision to devote museum space to frontier war is a welcome one. Gallipoli gave us Australians a story about ourselves, but as my friend Henry Reynolds often says, the frontier wars gave us the continent. The heroes and victims of those wars should have their stories told in galleries; but they also deserve to be honoured on memorials and in ceremonies. They were our first warriors, our first patriots. If they are honoured here, they will be honoured throughout the country, and I believe we will be a far better nation for it.
Note
[1] Abbott, T. (17 July 2026).‘Change-by-stealth decisions fly in the face of democracy', The Australian.
Nick Clements' conclusion above is comparable with ours on this Defending Country site:
‘Defending Country’ is the common thread linking Australia’s wars at home (the Australian Wars) and abroad (Australia's overseas wars).
As the War Memorial is Australia’s premier commemorative institution, grounding it in the Defending Country theme should set the tone for institutions and communities across our country. It should also have implications for national days of commemoration, like Anzac Day and Remembrance Day.
Picture credit: book cover detail