The Psychosocial Imaginaries of Defence Nationalism

Far-Right Extremism in Australia and the UK

Liam Gillespie

• Publisher: Palgrave Macmillan
• Year: 2020
• Print ISBN: 9783030554699
• eBook ISBN: 9783030554705
• Topic: Psychology
• Subtopic: Critical Theory
• Index: Psychology

The Psychosocial Imaginaries of Defence Nationalism interrogates the emergence of far-right nationalist 'defence leagues' in Australia and the UK. Throughout the book, Liam Gillespie refers to these groups as defence nationalists: that is, as nationalists who imagine themselves as defenders of the nation and therefore national subjects par excellence. 

Drawing on original research, psychoanalytic and psychosocial theory—and particularly the work of Jacques Lacan—the author explores the narratives, imaginaries and subjectivities that sustain these groups, as well as the narratives, imaginaries and subjectivities these groups sustain. He argues that unlike other nationalist groups, defence nationalists are not primarily concerned with realising their avowed political projects. Instead, they are concerned with constructing and then enjoying themselves as the nation's self-ordained defenders. This means that which threatens the nation can paradoxically have a fortifying effect upon defence nationalists, legitimising and securing both the way they see themselves, and the position they see themselves occupying with/in the nation.

The Psychosocial Imaginaries of Defence Nationalism will be of interest to anyone concerned with critical theorisations of contemporary nationalism, as well as with the application of psychoanalytic and psychosocial theory to social, cultural and political analysis.

© The Author(s) 2021

L. GillespieThe Psychosocial Imaginaries of Defence NationalismStudies in the Psychosocialhttps://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-55470-5_1

Begin Abstract

1. Scenes of Violence

Liam Gillespie¹

(1)

University of Melbourne, Melbourne, VIC, Australia

Keywords

NationalismRacismPsychoanalysisThe bodyLandLawEnglish Defence LeagueCronulla Riots

End Abstract

Scene One: “When the Sands Ran Red”

On 11 December 2005, approximately 5000 people turned up to Cronulla Beach, a ‘community’ beach south-west of Sydney. The gathering, which culminated in the infamous Cronulla Riots, followed reports from the previous weekend of an assault against the patrolling life-savers by “persons of Middle-Eastern appearance” (NSW Police 2006, p. 7). Both events were preceded by rumours of the “threatening” behaviour of “Middle-Eastern youths” towards everyday beach goers (NSW Police 2006, p. 7).

In response to the alleged assault on the life-savers, a call to arms was widely circulated by mass text-message:

Aussies: This Sunday every fucking Aussie in the shire, get down to North Cronulla to help support Leb and Wog bashing day. Bring your mates down and let’s show them that this is our beach and their [sic] never welcome back. (Wilson 2005, my emphasis)

It is no coincidence that this call implored nationalists to assert their ownership of the nation by reclaiming the beach. Anthropologists and sociologists have long observed that the beach holds a privileged status in the Australian cultural landscape (Fiske 1983; Fiske et al. 1987; Bonner et al. 2001; Evers 2008; Ellison and Hawkes 2016). Surfing, swimming and tanning are national pastimes, which are heavily associated with the Australian ‘way of life’ (Fiske 1983). For many, the beach is therefore implicated in narratives regarding what it means to be ‘Australian’. “We all dream of the sand and the sea, in Australia”, write Frances Bonner, Susan McKay and Alan McKee (2001, p. 269), who conclude that the beach holds a “secure place in the national identity” (2001, p. 270). In Australian culture, life-savers are iconic: they are revered figures, who are imagined as the embodiment of these quintessential ‘Australian’ practices and identities (Fiske 1983). Indeed, in the week before the riots, the attack on the life-savers was editorialised by the Australian Daily Telegraph as “an attack on us all” (as cited in Hartley and Green 2006), while the Australian Guardian ran a front-page article titled “When the sands ran red”, declaring that “the attack on the lifeguards, the most iconic of Australian symbols, went too far for many people” (O’Riordan 2005, my emphasis). In light of this, it seems that for those who rioted in Cronulla, the alleged assault against the patrolling life-savers had occurred deep within the symbolic national heartland of Australia: on the beach.

In the week leading up to the riots, a second racially charged text-message was widely circulated. It read:

Who said Gallipoli wouldn’t happen again! … Rock up 2 Cronulla this Sunday were [sic] u can witness Aussies beatin Turks on the beach. (Hayes and Kearney 2005)

Like the message above, this call to arms also draws on the symbolism and importance of the beach in the Australian cultural imaginary. Its reference is to one of the most celebrated aspects of Australian (military) history, the Battle of Gallipoli, which was fought on the beach of the Gallipoli Peninsula in Turkey by the Anzacs¹ during World War I. In Australian culture, it is commonly held that it is during this battle that the Australian soldiers first embodied what have now come to be seen as the quintessential ‘Australian’ values of courage, mateship and resistance. Accordingly, the Battle of Gallipoli is often mythologised as the ‘birth’ of the ‘Anzac spirit’, a term that has come to function as a metonym for the so-called ‘Australian spirit’ itself. Through this elision between the Anzac and the Australian ‘spirit’, the Battle of Gallipoli is often referred to as “the birth of the nation” (Holbrook 2017). Similarly, the beach is referred to as “the place where it all began” (Holbrook 2017). Reflective of this symbolism, the Australian War Memorial reads:

The legend of Anzac was born on 25 April 1915, and was reaffirmed in eight months’ fighting on Gallipoli. Although there was no military victory, the Australians displayed great courage, endurance, initiative, discipline, and mateship. Such qualities came to be seen as the Anzac spirit. Many saw the Anzac spirit as having been born of egalitarianism and mutual support. According to the stereotype, the Anzac rejected unnecessary restrictions, possessed a sardonic sense of humour, was contemptuous of danger, and proved himself the equal of anyone on the battlefield. Australians still invoke the Anzac spirit in times of conflict, danger and hardship. (Australian War Memorial, n.d.)

Through its invocation of a second Gallipoli, the call to arms portrayed the attack against the life-savers of Cronulla not as a mere assault against particular individuals, but instead, as an attack on (the symbolism of) Australia itself, including its very “way of life” (NSW Police 2006, p. 6).

In the week leading up to the riots, these calls to arms were (in)famously read out on talk-back radio by ‘shock-jock’ Alan Jones.² During his broadcast, Jones invited listeners to phone in and share their stories of what had been “going on” at Cronulla Beach. One of his callers opined:

Alan, it’s not just a few Middle Eastern bastards at the weekend, it’s thousands. Cronulla is a very long beach and it’s been taken over by this scum. It’s not a few causing trouble, it’s all of them. (Marr 2005)

Another caller, ‘John’ phoned in to state that his local football club intended to go to the beach to take the law into their own hands: “If the police can’t do the job, the next tier is us”, he declared, to which Jones replied, “Good on you, John” (Marr 2005). Following these calls, Jones implored his listeners to participate in “a rally, a street march, call it what you will. A community show of force” (Marr 2005).

Bolstered by Jones’ exhortations, the call to arms—mythologies and iconographies they invoked—proved effective. With reference to Australian cultural mythology, those who rioted compared the ‘heroism’ of the life-savers to that of the Anzacs (NSW Police 2006, p. 6). By doing so, they (re)invested “the values traditionally associated with the Aussie Digger³…in the lifesaver” (Evers 2008, p. 418). The rioters proclaimed their desire to “Save ‘Nulla” (NSW Police 2006, p. 8), while voicing a range of racially motivated chants as they stormed the beach and rioted. Among these, were “Love ‘Nulla-Fuck Allah”, “Wog-free zone”, “Lebs go home”, “we grew here you flew here” and “Osama don’t surf” (Evers 2008). In the violence that followed, it was reported by the New South Wales Police that although “Lebanese youths” had allegedly assaulted the life-savers, all persons of “ethnic appearance”⁴ were attacked indiscriminately:

Public disorder was realised when the predominantly Caucasian Australian crowd, fuelled by racial prejudice and excessive alcohol consumption became violent. People of ethnic appearance were attacked on sight. (NSW Police 2006, p. 7)

Celebrating Cronulla

Exactly ten years on from the riots, another call went out in Cronulla. This time, it was not explicit violence that was called for, but instead, a newly coined celebration, dubbed “Cronulla Memorial Day”. The call came from a number of far-right ethnic nationalist movements, who have, as in much of the Western world, risen to prominence in Australia in the past decade. Included among them were the Australian Defence League (ADL), the Party for Freedom, the United Patriots Front (UPF) and Reclaim Australia. Together, they devised Cronulla Memorial Day as a day for the commemoration of Australian resistance and a celebration of those who “dug in” at Cronulla Beach (just as the Anzacs dug trenches), to “[stand] against years of physical, verbal and even sexual abuse perpetrated by Muslim gang members” (The Party for Freedom 2015).

Anzac mythology was again invoked in the call to action. In advertising the event—to be celebrated with a “halal-free BBQ”—the Party For Freedom claimed that “for many Australians, the Cronulla Riots represent a time ‘when Aussies stood their ground’”, as did the Anzacs (The Party for Freedom 2015).⁵ Similarly, Shermon Burgess, the leader of Reclaim Australia, called upon all true “patriots” to attend Cronulla Memorial Day, urging them to “spread the word and let everyone know that we are going ...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Front Matter
• 1. Scenes of Violence
• 2. Ironic Indigeneity
• 3. The Laws of Inclusion and Exclusion
• 4. In hoc signo vinces [In This Sign You Will Conquer]
• 5. The Body as Real—Nostalgia Without Memory
• 6. Violent (Con)Fusions of the Body
• 7. Imagined Immunity
• 8. Sovereign Bodies Unto Themselves
• Back Matter