With Valentine's Day around the corner, and Australia Day just behind us, thoughts here at Merge have turned to the twin themes of love and patriotism. Placating one's betrothed on February 14th could be considered a fairly simple exercise: whatever your affection's object's particular bent happens to be, you buy accordingly, then lie back and think of England (Turkmenistan/Samoa, etc.) as the edible fundies are munched off.

 

But how should love for country be expressed, and how does that expression reflect on or represent the wider citizenry? As a younger country, the oft-espoused view of Australia is that of the wide brown land, tamed by gritty convict settlers, defended by staunch and fearless fighters and inhabited by friendly, laconic and highly sporty people.

 

But this is patently rubbish, or at least open to a range of interpretations.

 

 

Take the recent spat over the valour of the ANZACs, with former Prime Minister Paul 'Dapper Don' Keating in the blue corner, and Kevin 'China White' Rudd in the red. The opera-loving shit stirrer declared that this nation's deifying of the ANZAC spirit was an exercise in supreme self-delusion, due mainly to the fact that in Gallipoli, our troops were sacrificed and exploited by morally bereft and tactically retarded moustachioed British generals, for whose country we were fighting in a war with nought to do with us. Mr. International, on the other hand, opined that our boys were bloody incredibly brave warriors, famed for their toughness and derring-do.

 

Whatever your perspective on the ANZAC legend, the fact is it is just that: a legend or myth, perpetuated and Chinese-whispered (pipe down Rudd) - or rather Chinese-yelled - through the ages and absorbed by a nation's consciousness. Clearly incidents such as the Cronulla riots some years ago, or the 75% of voter approval for the then-Government's stance on the children overboard affair belie some deeper, internal distrust or plain dislike of the other - the non-Australian. ( As an aside, surely Aboriginal people are the only true Australians anyway?).

 

For this scribe, patriotism is a savage form of insularity; self-interest fed by fear and a tool exploited by political, business and wackjob entities. Clearly there are great things about this country - ancestors to be proud of, feats to revere and legends to pass on - but championing an attitude of exclusivity, when our settler forebears were themselves invaders, reeks a little of a fishy pot calling the glasshouse black, or something equally nonsensical.

 

If we followed the logic of the word itself, we would each be fighting over the superiority of the British/Irish/Italian ancestors we have, as opposed to stating 'We love Australia'. Because Australians are of the world, as are all inhabitants of all countries (what's that theory about all the people of Earth being descended from 12 women or something?), so what's the beef?

 

Patriotism merely provides a mask for other hatreds, fears or agendas to surface, although at this globalising phase of history, religious fanatacism, dogma and ideology may be replacing the nation-state's ability to command the loyalty of its people. Wars fought over oil and territory and the desire for religious primacy demand that participants look inwards to excuse the actions of their elected representatives. Witness the recent revelation that Howard indeed urged Dubya to invade Iraq - gave the little Texan the final little push he needed to commence the folly of his end game - for evidence of this. Then consider whether Howard is one of your countrymen, or someone you are forced to share your country with - which you grin and bear because you are civil, or whom you go out and try to kill because you are no more than an animal.

 

So as you ponder the complexities of love for country versus love for humans - perhaps while you shop for chocolates or countdown 100 songs by the barby on Oz Day - please consider my new found love (and simultaneous vote for Australian of the Year): the person who personified the archetypal Aussie, with their disdain for bigheads and self-importance, and sconned the egomaniacal Kanye with a coin at his Melbourne concert. Not because he's American; not because his skin is different to mine or because his religious views oppose my own.

 

Just because he is a knob.