Gallipoli?

Can someone tell me why 20,000 whitefolks– most of them reportedly Ozzies or New Zealanders, and many of them young– would flock to a chilly shore in Turkey early today to commemorate an extremely ill-conceived, British-led assault on the shore of a distant Muslim country that ended up being a complete military fiasco?
It was a big event. Both the Australian and New Zealand Prime Ministers were there. Britain sent Prince Charles. (I guess Tony was too busy running in his current election campaign and trying to dodge questions about a more recent british assault on a Muslim land.)
On so many different scores, the UK-France-Anzac assault on Gallipoli in 1915 was a deep, deep embarrassment. Why on earth would people from the invading countries even want to remember it (except it as a terrible object lesson in what not to do?) And why would so many of them have flocked to Gallipoli today to “commemorate” the 90th anniversary of one of the campaign’s key battles?
I do recall, growing up in Middle England in the 1950s, that in the semi-public park opposite my home there was a broad plinth built– apparently for some further memorial that never in the end materialized atop it– and it was mysteriously engraved “Gallipoli 1915”.
Maybe better that the memorial there never did get finished?
Here’s the summary of the Gallipoli campaign, culled from that great “First World War. com” website linked to above:
— A young (and rash) Winston Churchill was the Secretary of the Navy. He insisted on launching the operation against the advice of most of the professional military and naval thinkers. (H’mmm.)
— The first attempt to land British and allied forces on Turkish soil at Gallipoli was made in mid-February 1915. It failed. The first successful landings weren’t made till April 25. Three subsequent attempts to enlarge those beachheads were repulsed by the Turks.
— By August or so, the British forces, commanded by Ian Hamilton, had a total of three beachheads. Each was, unfortunately, still overlooked by Turkish positions. “Confidence in the operation in London and Paris was dwindling. Nevertheless Churchill pressed both governments to provide continued support.”
— In October, Hamilton received news that he would soon be ordered to evacuate the peninsula. He protested, and was replaced. London didn’t get its act together to actually order the evacuation till December, by which time the evacuation was extremely hazardous.
— Campaign Summary:

    Some 480,000 Allied troops had been dedicated to the failed campaign. British casualties (including imperial forces) amounted to approximately 205,000. French losses were estimated at around 47,000. Turkey incurred around 250,000 casualties.

Oh my God, can you imagine all those families stripped of their young men? And for what? All of World War 1, everywhere, was simply one long and quite unmitigated disaster.
But my question remains: why on earth would those young Ozzies and Kiwis be so eager to travel to Gallipoli and memorialize what happened there?
The militaristic Ozzie PM, John Howard, blustered on to the effect that,

    [Start John Howard quote]
    “The original Anzacs [members of the Australia-NZ corps] could not have known at the time that their service would leave all Australians with another enduring legacy – our sense of self,” Mr Howard said in an official pre-dawn address at Anzac Cove.
    “They bequeathed Australia a lasting sense of national identity, they sharpened our democratic temperament and our questioning eye towards authority….”

But what seemed even more disturbing was how many young Ozzies and Kiwis actually seemed to buy that jingoistic, deeply militaristic rhetoric.
22-year-old Australian Ben Hutchinson said, “I had to make a pilgrimage here… [Gallipoli was] the first real bonding of Australia as a country. It’s something that formed our identity”.
My lord! A nation made out of ex-convicts who became the violent colonizers and expropriators of other peoples’ lands… And then they had to travel most of the way back around the world again to invade another people’s country in order to “form their own identity”???
Is there something going on here that I just don’t understand?
27-year-old New Zealander Angela Taylor was quoted here as saying of the Gallipoli battlefields that, ” “They are the one historical place New Zealand has.”
??
At least her Prime Minister, Helen Clark, was gracious enough to (unlike John Howard) pay some tribute to the peninsula’s fallen Turkish defenders, as well.
I forgot to mention that Turkey’s PM, Recep Tayyip Erdogan, was also there.
Clark noted– in what seemed to me to be an appropriately thoughtful vein– that,

    “The words on the wall before us are those of a Turkish veteran, Adil Shahin. He wrote simply, `Their duty was to come here and invade; ours was to defend’.”
    Miss Clark said Gallipoli “scarred our hearts”. “To walk on the battlefields of Gallipoli is to walk on ground where so much blood was shed that it has become sacred soil.”

Well, this June I’m going to be paying my first-ever visit to New Zealand. I’m looking forward to it. Having spent some time already in the US and much less in Canada and South Africa, a visit to New Zealand will help expand my ongoing study of the different ways of being that originally-British colonial expropriators have developed in different spots around the globe.
But this commemorating-Gallipoli thing– can anyone out there explain it to me?
One notable thing about the whole campaign, though. It did, then and for quite some time thereafter, wreck the careers of Churchill and his First Sea Lord, Admiral Sir John Fisher. Churchill– the suit– was the only one who made a comeback. Fisher, the “brass”, died I think still in quite a degree of infamy over the whole event.

38 thoughts on “Gallipoli?”

  1. Well, a new sense of Canadian nationhood (at least for English-speaking Canadians) is also associated with a huge WWI bloodbath.
    That war didn’t make sense even at the time, but those who sacrificed so much had to believe that it had some meaning.

  2. It’s spelled “Aussies”.
    The reason is that, as far as war is concerned, us Australians remember our fallen countryman in preference to celebrating victory.
    We also like taking the piss out of the Poms, so any opportunity to question their leadership skills is a welcome one.
    Supporting the underdog is a national pasttime.
    And, most importantly of all, it was the first time that we came together as a nation. Indeed, Gallipoli happened only 14 years after the nation of Australia was born.

  3. Perhaps you might care to think again about the word ‘whitefolk’. A significant number of Maori took part in the Gallipoli campaign as frontline soldiers and probably don’t need to be excised from history by JWN.

  4. I can only answer as a kiwi. Gallipoli was the first military campaign that contained distinct Australian and New Zealand army corps. Both these countries (as others)indeed suffered appaling casualties in appaling and pretty hopeless conditions. The campaign has long been seen in New Zealand as a British lead folly, (this was clearly repeated in the NZ Air Vice Marshalls speech at Gallipoli yesterday). For decades the ANZAC service was mainly in lieu of a funeral service for the fallen thoughout NZ towns and cities. Now 90 years and the personal mourning has passed, travel is cheaper and young New Zealanders undertake a pilgrimage the battleground to remember the courage of all the soldiers involved, most of whom believed they were doing what was best for their country. Its simply too big a relative loss for us as a country to overlook, and for us it is still a sombre occasion. NZ as a country only has about 160 short years of european settled history, and in that context this was a major international event; even though a tragic fiasco, in which our people made great sacrifices. Thankfully there were no issues of civilian losses or any atrocities by either the ANZACs or the gallant and very well lead Turkish army at Gallipoli. Fortunately the modern NZ army is able to focus on peacekeeping and reconstruction work under the auspices of the UN. I dont know if that helps explain, we in New Zealand certainly have no future designs on Turkey or anywhere else muslim or not but I can’t of course speak for John Howard the Ozzie PM.

  5. Helena,
    As an expat who lives in Melbourne, Australia, I just wanted to focus on your question.
    It is a matter very similar to why people in America support Veterans Day, and Memorial Day, etc…, it is to honor the bravery of their fallen fighting men, and it is a valid, important holiday here in Australia.
    I have written to you personally in the past, and by my chosen screen name alone, may have accidently started the tie to the Land of Oz, (being from Kansas City), to Australia, and our vocabulary, apologies to Jason Hutchens.
    I also want to point out to you that the warmongering prime minister of Australia is just a bootlicker of GWB, and in fact, the Iraq war is fairly unpopular here in Australia. Also just to point out a few “down under” facts:
    The current Australian Prime Minister has pulled big lies out of his hat to win the last two elections by playing the fear/racist card in the first, and promised not to increase/send any more troops to Iraq in the last election, a promise which he recently broke. I think the Aussies here now realize we are in this up to our a$$es with bu$hco.
    So if anything can be said, it is that all western leaders who have gotten into bed with GWB on Iraq, all have successfully used the LCS system of government to bluff their way back into office.
    For those unfamiliar with the LCS system, it stands for Lie, Cheat, and Steal.
    I think your question is misguided, basically Helena. Sorry.

  6. Helena I can certainly understand your confusion. There are many of us here in the antipodes who share your sentiments. Michael Leunig, a prominent Australian cartoonist expresses what many of us feel about the day. Apologies for pasting in full but a link would require you to register to acces:
    “Lest we forget the ultimate price of warfare”
    April 23, 2005
    We should remember the civilian toll of war and the danger of militarism, writes Michael Leunig.
    “I hate it when they say, ‘He gave his life for his country’. They don’t die for the honour and glory of their country. We kill them.”
    – Rear-AdmiralGene R. LaRocque
    We live in a national culture that glamorises soldiers, yet the sight of a military uniform with its obvious connotations of morbidity and violence provokes in me the question: “What sort of person is attracted to the killing professions?” Army recruiting advertisements beg the same question.
    The raising of this query in public will bring hostile responses as well as the inevitable, “If it wasn’t for soldiers you wouldn’t have the liberty to ask that question”, as if I owe my ration of happiness, sanity or spiritual health to militarism.
    It seems to me, however, that human rights have historically been considerably established by those who were not soldiers and who indeed, in many instances, had to face the terror and repression of state military force in their various campaigns for social justice. It could be said, for instance that it was the troopers who fought against the cause of freedom at the Eureka stockade in Ballarat and slaughtered those who sought liberty and justice. Soldiers mostly follow orders, they have “a job to do” regardless of whether they are rescuing civilians or shooting them. Where the Prime Minister sees courage, decency and goodness in professional soldiers – all those “best and finest” qualities – I cannot help but also see the possibility of perversity, emotional sickness and a latent murderous impulse. The innocent question won’t go away: “What sort of person volunteers to devote their life to the skills of destruction and the business of hunting, trapping and slaughtering humans?”
    Anzac Day brings this question strongly to mind because I am asked each year to remember the soldiers who fought and to spare a thought for them, which I always do, but that’s where the trouble starts because before too long questions arise and I try to imagine what sort of men would volunteer to invade a far-off land and perpetrate such murderous violence against its inhabitants. The mind can travel a long way in a minute’s silence. Inevitably I then start to think and wonder about the forgotten men who on conscience and principle refused to take part in this monumental violence (where is their monument?), which then leads to a yearning for an Australia that would honour and remember the most horrible and sad truth of all: the civilian victims of war. In the grisly light of the fact that Australian soldiers so recently took part in the invasion of Iraq, which involved the killing of more than 100,000 civilians, and lost not one soldier in the process, it feels somehow obscene, bizarre and shameful to be commemorating, yet again, Australia’s part in the invasion of Turkey in 1915. More than ever it feels to me that soldiers have been honoured more than enough and civilian victims have been honoured far too little. In the commemoration of war, as in war itself, civilians don’t ultimately matter. The failure to prioritise the remembrance of civilian victims is a reinforcement of the military right to abuse or obliterate them with impunity in times of war.
    As for the men who refused the way of violence, there appears to be little cultural recognition or consciousness of those who rejected jingoism and the call to homicide, but who served their country well for an entire lifetime in creative, constructive and unglorified ways that are immeasurable. Like so many other groups and other types, it is possible that they have been cold-shouldered out of the official, heroic version of the national story. Yet their lives and their efforts may have contributed more to what is valuable in the Australian identity than we care to contemplate, and the legacy of Gallipoli and war may have much to do with what is dysfunctional, tragic and ugly in our society. It is not just the examples of courage and sacrifice that we take from war but the trauma also, which permeates insidiously into successive generations.
    We now know of, and can statistically track, the Vietnam Morbidity Syndrome, a mysterious psychological condition that has seriously plagued children of Vietnam veterans and which indeed may have dire consequences for grandchildren and beyond. And even more surreptitious are the myriad ghosts of war, which return from the battles, banalities and atrocities and attach themselves to the civil situation, entering destructively into the living culture of the nation. This inevitable, postwar militarist invasion of the homeland demands much reparation and imposes hugely on civil society, domestic life and the new generation. Grim authoritarianism, paranoia, guilt, fundamentalism, hostility, bitter or brutal outlooks and a difficulty with Eros, beauty and the feminine are all aftermath qualities that insinuate or assert themselves into family and institutional life with profound consequences. The remnant tones and gestures of war become normalised and the character of society is rewired. The violent, frightened mentality and fetishism of war, the domineering impulse, and the addiction to the “evil other” forever corrupt, disfigure and limit the societies that wage and prosecute the violent solution. A nation may win a war but its people can’t get away with it.
    Many Australians who served in war felt the degrading effects of militarism and upon returning home renounced it. In the 1950s it was commonly known that many men refused to march on Anzac Day, refused to join the RSL and threw their medals away. It was a conscientious and dignified position but one hears little of these men or this phenomenon any more; it doesn’t suit the current, government ideology about warfare: the violent new jingoism crafted and cultivated by those who mainly have never heard a shot fired in anger and never will. Not only have they reshaped the slopes of Gallipoli for their convenience, they have reshaped the story of war to suit their purposes. The late life testimonies of veterans tell us that the horror and sorrow of war is not confined to the battlefields but can unfold in one’s mind over a lifetime, yet these many stories are politely ignored or cruelly assigned to the “doddery old man who’s gone a bit vague” category or buried with the owner. The bard Eric Bogle is now denounced for expressing in song the poignant wisdom so many veterans have pleaded for us to understand. Yet The Band Played Waltzing Matilda is held dear and touches deeply because it is utterly truthful and no amount of fashionable hostility, fatuous insult or boycott can ever diminish the strength or integrity of this great song.
    Yet what the leaders would have us believe about old soldiers, and what old soldiers believe about leaders can be two fascinatingly different things.
    Recently, a friend who is a Vietnam veteran, offered to me in a low, menacing and theatrical growl, his view on the Prime Minister’s anti-terror piety and his fawning soldier-groupie antics: “Mr Howard, WE ARE the effing murderers you are so frightened of.”
    Soldiers can quickly tire of patriotism and piety in the globalised world. Many become mercenaries now and sell their souls to the highest bidder as hit-men; which may tell us something about what it takes to be a soldier. Iraq is crawling with these lapsed “best and finest” people. No doubt many of those innocent young ADF people in uniform, photographed with the leering, beer-juggling Prime Minister, may in time see the light, take to his private enterprise ideas and move on to the big bucks – to hell with the medals and to hell with the cosy car parks of Gallipoli. At the end of the day, as Socrates said: “All wars are fought for money.”
    Michael Leunig is an Age cartoonist.

  7. It’s curious that this event wasn’t even mentionned in the European news. The news these days are full with the remembering of the Armenian genocide by the Turks.
    Personnally, I see no problems with a veteran day, which can be turned in a day for pacifism, remembering how many human lifes were uselessly lost. But why fly to Turkey ? Are American flying to Vietnam for veteran days ?

  8. Helena
    Give us a fair go, mate.
    Anzac Day in NZ and Australia began as small gatherings of “returned” men from WWI who got together to remember their fallen comrades – their many many fallen comrades, both countries in their colonial enthusiasm suffered appallingly high casualty rates in that futile conflict.
    The day became increasingly militarised, especially after WW2 during which again both countries suffered disproportionately high casualties, although perhaps this time in a more justifiable cause.
    But today it is essentially an occasion to memorialise the horror of war – perhaps more so in NZ, a less bellicose nation than Australia is today. Perhaps you will realise what it means to our young people when you come to NZ and discover that it is quite literally impossible to see an armed person on our streets – and that includes the Police. It just can

  9. Perhaps I should add a footnote. A British war correspondent at Gallipoli famously described the ANZAC soldier as “the bravest thing God ever made.”
    Maybe that’s also what those Antipodean youngsters are remembering – that their ancestors in two World Wars established standards of courage, of fortitude in adversity, that they will always have to live up to. And usually they do.
    What’s wrong with that?

  10. Helena
    I think you make a good point here . But like in the US the importance of ANZAC day cannot be separated from the consolidation of right wing political language in Australia . What John Howard has done over the last few years is to make days such as ANZAC a means of claming for the conservative politics a Australian nationalism of a highly militaristic sort. What exactly is the nation that is being celebrated ? It worries me that such large number of young people would fall for this nationalistic set pieces . But there in a nut shell is why conservative politics dominates here in Australia and in the US. People who fail to see the political context of this miss the point .
    Kanish

  11. Helena,
    While I think your inquiry into Gallipoli’s meaning, uses, and misuses is important some of your post’s characterizations range from inaccurate to offensive.
    The confrontation at Gallipoli was not between states but empires. In 1915 Australia and New Zealand were dominions of the British Empire, Commonwealths but not independent states. What you call “Turkey” did not exist, the Allied forces were opposed at Gallipoli by the Ottoman Empire. As you are reminded by previous respondents these were, in fact, multinational forces reflecting the diversity of their empires. It was not just “whitefolk” who went on behalf of the British Empire, Allied forces at Gallipoli included Maori, Indians, Zambians, and Seneglese. On the Ottoman side there were not just Turks, but Arabs, Chechens, and Bosnians. If you visit Gallipoli today you will see as many different shades of people visiting their dead ancestors as there were fighting nearly a century ago.
    The Gallipoli site is not just special for Albion’s seed, but also for the country that hosts the battlefield. While the ANZAC were cruelly dispatched on a fatal fool’s errand by English officers, the Ottoman commander was originally denied reenforcements to oppose the Allied landing despite the peninsula’s strategic importance. That commander admonished his soldiers, “I am not asking you to fight for your country, I am asking you to die for your country.” Fight and die they did, in greater numbers than the Allied forces. In this confrontation between the Allies and the Ottomans not only did a founding myth for Australia and New Zealand emerge, but also for the Ottoman commander, Kamal Mustafa Ataturk, and the Republic of Turkey as well. No wonder then that Ataturk demanded that the remains of the Allied dead be treated with respect. It remains an extraordinary place to this day, until recently you might find that your elderly tour guide was a veteran of the battle. I cannot convey here the deep emotions I saw expressed when veterans of opposing armies met in their old age and walked together across the battlefield, showing each other where they were and recollecting what they were doing. The remilitarization of Australian politics surely has something to do with the fuss made over Gallipoli this year, but so does that fact that as of 2002 there are no more veterans on either side to take these walks together.
    That the Gallipoli monument you saw in England growing up was apparently unfinished is indifference typical of what “colonials” expect of Britain’s memory for the sacrifices made on behalf of the Empire. I am relieved that your post was written and not submitted as streaming audio – your English accent reading some of your words would rub many of us more raw. Like “john” admonished you in an earlier post, “don

  12. Wow.. I’m amazed at the high number of Aussies and NZ reactions to Helena’s entry.
    I’m even more surprised to read that this battle and costly defeat is seen as a foundation myth both by Australia and NZ, especially since both armies were still fighting for the British empire. Isn’t it about time to imagine a better foundation myth ?
    I personnally see no point in emphasizing the courage of young men in any battle, especially when it lead to the killing of so many humans, especially other ethnic groups (maori etc.. )

  13. Helena,
    the Kiwi’s and Aussies remember, (celibrate is a questionable word in this context), Gallipoli for the same reasons that Canadians remember Vimy, Passendale and Dieppe.
    We remember the naivety of those first entering the War, their bravery and courage, and how their lives were utterly wasted on the follies of Empire.
    It was Nationalism, driven by the honor, sacrifice and follies of the war that was a major driving force behind the break up of the Empire and the formation of the Commonwealth,
    And it was the events of the Great War, the follies, the waste, the sacrifice, the bravery, the wounded, that reverberated though our societies, reinforced by the losses of the Second World War that has driven much of the pacifism of our societies.
    Locally, we have a ghost town, the Wallachin that people stop and remember. An apple growing farm community of 120 families, that turned the desert into orchards with 30 miles of wooden flumes,

  14. Helena
    Please delete if now outdated. I posted this a few days ago on an Iraqi Blog, talking about the upcoming ANZAC ceremonies. It may give you yet another perspective.
    In reference to a documentary programme:
    Another high point was an old “digger” pointing out that most of the ANZAC casualties were ultimately caused not by Turkish fire, they were just defending their country, but by the incompetence of British politicians and Generals. (Specifically, Winston Churchill – he also managed to wipe out a lot of Kiwis in WW2 with his unsound decisions.)
    Interesting, because the high point of the NZ year in 2005 is going to be the Tour by the British Lions Rugby team, the first for 13 years. They will be accompanied by the notorious “Barmy Army,” 20,000 rabid British rugby supporters, determined to “drink the pubs dry” in every town, to the delight of the tourist and hotel trade. And of the NZ fans, who will do their best to help. “There will be no hooliganism – this is Rugby not Soccer – and the grounds will ring to the English rugby anthem:
    Swing lowwwwwww, sweet char-iiiot,
    Comin

  15. Oh my! I am so glad so many of the blog’s Antipodean readers (sorry anyone, if you think that’s a slur but I do notice someone else using it… ) took time out to express themselves (yourselves) and inform me of your view of what all this was about. I have certainly learned a lot– from all of you, as well as from Michael Leunig. Thanks for posting that thoughtful piece there, Lloyd.
    I guess I can understand that “nations” need founding myths… especially nations that are essentially colonial constructions like the one I happen to live in here in Virginia. Founding myths of constructed nations always need to have a strong “liberationist” component– whether it’s the Pilgrims fleeing Old-World intolerance here in the US (the same Pilgrims who went on, many of them, to become famously intolerant in their own colonies here as well as to engage in massive expropriation and extermination of the native peoples), or whether it’s the ANZAC experience in WW1 for y’all, or the liberationist component of Zionism, or the Afrikaners’ story of having survived the English-run concentration camps of the Anglo-Boer wars…
    Here in the US, though, we don’t exactly embrace Custer’s Last Stand as part of any “heroic” foundation myth… I guess though that the content of Antipodean remembrance of Gallipoli is slightly different from that since– by the accounts of several commenters here– it had/has a strongly anti-“Pom” overtone to it.
    (And what’s wrong with my accent anyway? You don’t know how or even whether I talk…)
    Well, judging by the lively differences among Antipodean commenters here, the past is still very much debated among y’all. As Faulkner said, “The past is not over. It’s not even past.”
    I am looking forward, in NZ, to encountering what I’m led to believe is a distinctly different and “better” kind of interaction there than here between the whitefolks and the indigenes. In my main post, I made no reference to the racial makeup of the NZ forces fighting at Gallipoli, not having any info at hand about that. I did make reference to the people visiting there yesterday being “whitefolk” because that was the way they looked to me in all the photos I saw. If anyone has any numbers on the proportion of Maoris among the visitors, do please illuminate me.
    Is any of you a Maori? Can any of you tell me whether Maoris tend to view “Anzac Day” in the same way as most whitefolk Kiwis?
    At this point I’ll confess that though I’d heard of “Anzac Day” vaguely before I’d never actually figured out that it was all about Gallipoli.
    More I could write. Maybe another post. On this comments board I am certainly not the only person who’s gone over the commenting guidelines on length. But every so often it’s good just to have a long discussion like this one.
    I certainly appreciate the fact of the difference between the government policies and the general trends in opinion between New Zealanders and Australians… (Do the Kiwis come out looking more like Canadians in this, if you get my drift: generally more gentle, thoughtful, and pro-UN?)
    And yes, the Armenian dimension of WW1 certainly deserves more consideration.

  16. Just one point before you get here – I suggest that you not use that expression “whitefolk.” I’ve never heard it before and somehow it sounds vaguely insulting, though I’m sure it’s not meant to be. NZers of Caucasian origin usually refer to themselves as “European,” or better still and equally commonly as “Pakeha,” which is the Maori name for them. Cheers.

  17. Oh yeah, and you asked a question. You will find a degree or element of racial or cultural tension here, arising from issues in the colonial past: but we’re working hard on them.
    Meanwhile, the most revered military formation in NZ’s martial history (such as it is) is the WW2 Maori Battalion, of legendary fighting prowess.
    The survivors are getting on now, but yes, they march on every Marae (roughly, meeting place) on Anzac day. Maori ceremonial input, often including a haka, or war-dance, is more or less mandatory on any national ceremonial occasion. It’s all a bit confusing, n’est ce pas?

  18. “A kiwi race ramble”
    Following on from John’s accurate point about the elite NZ Maori battalions role in our military history there have been growing concerns expressed in the media here about the dominance of macho militarism in modern maori culture, its links to right-wing religious fundamentalism, crime, especially domestic and gang violence.
    In the Arts and social sciences both Maori and Pakeha figures have expressed concerns about just how “staunch” maori (especially the male) role models have become, and are working to resolve this through debate of tradtional gender roles and new forms of existing traditions such as the “peace” haka, which is designed as a greeting or welcome as opposed to the usual warlike “challenge” haka form-which for example would not now be appropriate to perform at Gallipoli.
    I think for some pakeha/”whities” like me our foundation (of New Zealand) myths would be of the english settling fairly peacefully and by negotiation, then breaking that treaty repeatedly, then Maori replying by starting a war or two in which they frequently prevailed; although not finally.
    Since then we Pakeha have gradually had to redress our transgessions one by one under that same original foundation treaty with Maori. Pakeha and Maori have entangled each other in a cultural exchange based primarily on broken promises, shame, endless litgation, and a series of galant imperial military disasters, but with the general intent to make things right eventually and live in peace together well enough in these isolated little islands. Not much of a mythological base then, going by the definitions found above. We were, to be honest a bit annoyed that the Turks refused to be liberated in 1915 but we have since forgiven them. Perhaps if we had known about the Armenian genocide but we didn’t…
    Anyway Helena this all probably stops us taking ourselves too seriously at “the bottom of down under” I suppose. You’ll notice that when you get here-but watch out for the haka-and please if you are passing Canada bring maple syrup, or anything nice from our many friends in the EU!

  19. In what sense was this did ANZAC day lead to a nationaism that caused an empire to break up apart? Australia and New Zealand ended up in Gallipoli because of the bonds of empire not nationalism .
    In the 1980s Anzac day drew less and less people and was in terminal decline . Over the last decade there has been a concerted effort to reinvent the myth of ANZAC as way of shoring up a highly exclusionary notions of nationalism . Howard has railed against a what he calls a black arm band view of history . In 1999 he sought to include in a constitutional preamble the concept of mateship which directly derives from the ANZAC legend as way of reasserting a conservative form of identity politics steeped in what Miriam Dixon refers to as

  20. Kanish I apprecaite your analysis of Howards position but in NZ unlike Australia there is no link whatsoever proposed between the Iraq invasion and occupation and the failed Gallipoli landings in 1915. Our PM never gave credance to the silly Iraq WMD arguments. A clear majority of NZers have, like our PM, found it quite impossible from the outset to treat operation “enduring oil” with anything but alarm and disdain. We have no soliders in Iraq (but I think we now have 50 token army engineers in UN approved reconstruction work so Bush will still let us ship our beef to Nebraska).
    NZ like Australia clearly also has rapidly growing crowds of young people attending the Gallipoli service. I am sure the NZ approach to Gallipoli is with black arm bands firmly on as of course it should be, and I dont see how the 25th April “vibe” here could be considered exclusionary. But perhaps this matched growth in attendance still hints there is more now in common between the youth of both countries than exists between our older generations-if so its a potentially disturbing nexus-with some link to the passing of all those actually involved in the campaign-and one I don’t feel I fully understand as yet. Sorry I’ll stop posting now:)

  21. Canada had the same “coming of age” experience at Vimy Ridge during WWI, i.e. their own commanders led their own troops to a decisive victory (although casualties were high). In the historical scheme of nationhood, Vimy Ridge is a highpoint of Canadian history. As an ex-pat American, I only learned this after arriving here.

  22. Helena it may amuse you to know that some of my distant relatives, members of a Beiruti contingent of the Ottoman army, served in Gallipoli. I still vividly remember the description of the battle by one Maternal Great uncle of mine. In the fog of memory, fiction and fact snuggly intermingle. Thus he spoke of 36 allied frigates that move forward to fire, while another 36 move back to refit (questionable numbers and naval tactics but nice symmetry). One thing is certain, the casualty figures on the Ottoman side were appalling. Most members of the Beiruti contingent never came back home. Another thing is certain, the fateful events of 1915 still haunt us all: Turks, Arabs and Armenians as well as Brits, French Anzacs

  23. I was always kind of interested in Gallipoli because of genealogical research I had done on family members who served in the Royal Naval Division in WWI, including the Dardanelles campaign. But the most interesting treatment of the subject I ever saw was an article that al-Jazeera ran about last year’s commemorations. It was a bit of an eye-opener for me because it didn’t focus on the ANZAC/UK/French losses that were all I’d heard about, but talked about the Turkish perspective. Apparently, the Turkish troops that fought off the initial invasion of the peninsular and kept the Allies penned into tight beachheads weren’t Turks at all, but members of the Turkish 29th(??? – don’t quote me, I’m doing this from memory) Division which was manned largely by Arab conscripts from Palestine and was effectively wiped out in resisting the landings. Virtually all of them are buried today anonymously as “an unknown Turkish soldier”.
    For a lot of people in the UK and former Dominions, Gallipoli is the epitome of the huge and pointless loss of life Europeans suffered in the Great War. When you add into the mix the fact that the heroic (from the Turkish perspective) defenders who fought off the Allied invasion were fighting under a foreign flag and about to get royally screwed in the war’s aftermath, the whole campaign just seems terribly poignant.

  24. Oops, I forgot a footnote to my first post.
    “Mehemet” is the nickname Turks give to their private soldiers, similar to “Tommy” or “GI Joe.”
    It’s a reference to Mehmet the Conquerer, the Ottoman sultan who took Constantinople.

  25. My dad has spoken of a relative who *ran away* from Gallipoli. He was a conscript. The Christians of Lebanon still swore over those Turks when I was a kid in the 70s – my cousins told me that they would come to a village, find out who the smartest boys were, and kidnap them for the army. The families would never see them again. This cousin who ran away was greeted as if arisen from the dead.
    I’ll ask my dad more about him.
    By the way, family legend has it that my grandfather fought the Turks on the barricades of Sidon at the collapse of the Ottoman empire.

  26. Yankeedoodle… that was a brilliantly well-written and insightful comment. On behalf of us all I express our thanks for your sharing it.

  27. Helena has added a further post about this subject, but it seems to be impossible to add comments to it. I

  28. Regarding:

    A young (and rash) Winston Churchill was the Secretary of the Navy. He insisted on launching the operation against the advice of most of the professional military and naval thinkers. (H’mmm.)

    It’s interesting to read David Fromkin

  29. After initially deciding not to weigh in on this argument because so many other have already I now can’t resist but to give my own two cents worth.
    As an Australian who both has visited Gallipoli (and found it a very moving and solemn place)and had an ancestor who died there in August 1915 I think the event is worth commemmorating, although what it means to me is probably different from what it means to those of the flag-waving ilk.
    I have this view not out of any sense of jingoism or glorification but purely as a recognition that the years 1914-1918 were a pretty traumatic one for Australia at the time. For a country like Australia of just a few million in 1914 to suffer 60,000 dead and 250,000 wounded in four years of horror reflects this.
    If it makes sense, I say this as someone who thought our participation in that war was unnecessary but nevertheless it did effect the Australian psyche and its part of our history.
    What struck me was the enormous amount of soldiers who died there that were extremely young, in their late teens or early twenties, and it made me reflect on how war is a travesty, as much as I was moved by seeing so many graves.
    For me Gallipoli is a solemn event, not the trashy flag-waving sentimentality that John Howard and our irritating foreign minister is trying to turn it into.
    But perhaps the best part of my visit to Gallipoli was reading a monument which has the following words from Ataturk, the general of the Ottoman forces at Gallipoli and later the founder of the modern Turkish republic:

  30. I’m half-Australian. We remember Gallipoli because it is an enduring symbol of the exploitation of Australians and New Zealanders by selfish, rash, thoughtless, chauvinist British politicians and military leaders.
    The saying goes: “The British sipped tea on the beach” while the ANZACS were slaughtered in no man’s land. The British knew it was a thoughtless, hopeless suicide mission. They just didn’t care. ANZACs were exploitable.
    When Howard notes that Gallipoli forged Australian character and compelled the Australian spirit to question authority, he refers to the Australian understanding of their exploitation and corresponding distrust of British leadership, not the militaristic valiance of those who courageously died for nothing.

  31. Hi,
    I’m an American and I didn’t much about Galliopoli other than the Pogues’ version of Waltzing Matilda.
    I just wanted to say this thread is great.

  32. Great thread:
    John; Tipperary was a brothel in Piccadilly.
    I love poetry:
    POPPIES OF WAR
    Cairo Cemetery, Gallipoli Day. 1918
    In these hushed glades the holy cross keeps guard,
    Above the graves where heroes sleeping lie.
    Dear sons of far off homes are resting here,
    Beneath the radiant blue of Egypt’s sky.
    Verdure, swift-growing, casts a tender veil
    Over the warm brown earth that folds them deep,
    Down the long lines between each simple cross
    In splendour bloom the poppy flowers of sleep,
    Scarlet and glowing, emblems of youths blood
    Shed for the Empire, careless of the price:
    “Flowers of oblivion”once – now evermore
    Flowers of Remembrance of their sacrifice.
    E.M.Warnock

  33. Another first-rate book about Gallipoli:
    Gallipoli 1915, by Tim Travers.
    Better than Moorehead because Travers devotes much more attention to the Turkish side.

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