Our national anthem is wrong...??

Australians all let us rejoice,

for we are young and free.

Ahh.. the sweet sound of the patriotic Australian anthem, proclaiming the joy derived from the pure freedom of ALL Australians. The verses we all memorised (willingly or unwillingly) in our younger years of primary school, the distinct perfect fourth which marks this nationally renowned song...

Wait.. hang on a minute.

Free?

ALL Australians?

Let me quickly insert the two definitions of free which appear upon a quick Google search.

Hmm. That doesn’t sound quite right to me. And Samuel Wagon Watson doesn't seem to think so either.

Who IS Samuel Wagon Watson?

Samuel Wagon Watson is a contemporary Indigenous poet from the city of Brisbane. His father, Samuel William Watson was an Aboriginal Australian activist from the 1970s, who in later life stood as a Socialist Alliance candidate. He is known for being a co-founder of the Australian Black Panther Party in 1971/2 and was involved in implementing the findings of the Royal Commission into Aboriginal Deaths in Custody. Samuel’s poems range from a variety of topics: to everyday life experiences to the effects of colonisation.

In 2004, a collection of his many poems titled “Smoke Encrypted Whispers” was published, containing poems which majorly covered topics of colonisation, the long lasting impacts of forced assimilation and the hypocrisy of the Australian government towards Aboriginal peoples affairs.

Today, we’re going to delve into a poem from this collection, “Last exit to Brisbane”, which provides the striking and often unacknowledged truth regarding the true “freedom” of Australians.

The Boundary Streets

The very first line in this poem

“Boundary St 

that forged black scratch”

actually alludes to a dark component of Australia’s colonial history and the segregation which occurred afterwards. But to be honest, this barely even scratches the surface of the inhumane atrocities committed onto the Indigenous people of Australia.

For some historical context, the “boundary streets” in Brisbane used to define the outer city limits. Aboriginal people were only allowed within the city during the day and were required to exit by 4pm on weekdays and Sundays? Well they were completely out of the question. These streets enacted the physical segregation, which is intrinsic to colonial discourse, of “white skin” from “black”. 

Cartoon of an Aboriginal parent painting his children white so they are able to swim in the "white's only" swimming pool 

Can you even comprehend the audacity of these British settlers? 

They forcefully stole the land (Australia) which the Aboriginal peoples had resided on for THOUSANDS of years, mistreated the rightful owners of the land, forcefully assimilated their youth into white families in some sort of twisted attempt to decrease the eventual Aboriginal population and now the invaders are deciding where the traditional residents of Australia can go and where they can’t?

You can’t possibly tell me that makes any sense to you. And If you were shocked by this atrocious situation, then trust me, you’re not alone.

Wagon Watson, as an Indigenous man himself, develops a critical as well as mournful tone towards this forced segregation, the remnants of which are still evident in today’s modern day society. In the line “that tar permanently keeps the scar alive”, Watson refers to the new streets constructed over the previous boundary streets, which “permanently keeps the scar alive”. In this instance, the scar implies the metaphorical wound of the painful memories of segregation, in which Indigenous people were barred from their own land. However, Watson states that the scar remains “alive”, insinuating that these wounds of segregation are still living, breathing, still present in today’s time by the scalding hot tar, which invokes a painful imagery. 

His mournful tone towards the repercussions of colonisation is evident in the line “and the dead languages buried to only escape in the bitumen heat-haze and fall upon deaf ears”. When the British settlers invaded Aboriginal land, the government enforced policies which prohibited the practising of the many dialects of the Aboriginal language, leading to an eventual dying out of many languages, which is the subject matter of this line from the poem. The loss of language, an incredibly sorrowful happening, also symbolises the control seized by the settlers in that words, the means of which we communicate and our humanity is based on, were partially extinguished from the Indigenous people as they were forced to communicate in the language of the colonisers: English. The hopeful efforts of the dead languages to revive themselves, which were in vain, as they fell upon ears which could not or would not open their hearing to them acts as the final indication of Indigenous peoples lack of true freedom, due to the long lasting reach of the British control over them in the present day.

Furthermore, Wagon Watson confirms the presence of present day segregation in “as this boundary continues to stay true to its makers”. To the makers of this boundary (the white settlers and presumably the non-Indigenous population of Australia), the notion of segregation is still well and truly alive, whether this be known or unknown. Watson challenges mainstream Australian in their belief that they have left their colonial past behind and that the scar has healed. ”Yes, the boundary streets have been physically removed but have they been mentally removed? 

Are the Aboriginal peoples free from the shackles of segregation, of discrimination against them due to the colour of their skin, their birthright in this land, the languages they may speak? 

Evidently NOT.

In a survey conducted by the Diversity Council of Australia, almost 6 in 10 Aboriginal and/or Torres Strait Islander, reported experiencing discrimination and/or harassment at work with 59% of respondents reporting this.
Additionally, 50% of Aboriginal and/or Torres Strait Islander workers reported sometimes, often or always being ignored by people at work or being treated as if they didn’t exist (compared to 24% of non-Indigenous workers).

Do these statistics, cold, hard, facts, look like those of a country where we should all rejoice for we are young and free? How can we all be free, when Indigenous Australians are still imprisoned by the divisive attitude of society?

So, next time you sing of boundless plains, of nature’s gifts of beauty, rich and rare, and utter the final words of “Advance Australia Fair”, recall to yourself the first two lines and remember.

We are not all free,
And that there is much work to be done before all Australians can truly rejoice.