Patchwork patriotism

It’s ANZAC Day this weekend, which means a feeling of proud patriotism, expressed for some reason by getting absolutely trashed and gambling on the toss of a coin, grips the nation. 

Patriotism is actually in a bit of a weird place.

A recent survey found almost a third (32.7%) of Aussies just mouth the words of the national anthem, while a further 20% say they rarely or never sing along. Quite why this is the case is a mystery. After all, John Farnham’s You’re The Voice is a certified banger. 

In a bid to ward off the rise of the far right, Labor is pushing the idea of ‘progressive patriotism’ at both a state and federal level. What does this actually mean? Maybe something about fuel and the end of free trade? In reality, no one knows. But it sounds good.

This is patriotism as harmless national pride and a bit of fun. File it next to ‘sporting rivalries’ and ‘debate over who invented the pavlova’. 

There is, of course, a darker side - when patriotism starts looking an awful lot like nationalism. 

The Spectator (you already know this is going to go well) recently declared “patriotism has returned to young Australians”. Which then rapidly descended into calling for mandatory military service to “channel patriotism and pride into”. From the barbie to the battlefield.

In The Australian, Greg Sheridan (it’s not getting any better) says nationalism is clobbering globalism. He’s probably not wrong. Unfortunately, he then goes on to clarify that both former British Prime Minister Rishi Sunak and current Conservative leader Kemi Badenoch are “profoundly English”, which feels profoundly unnecessary.

There is a line between loving your home (or adopted home) country, with all of its flaws and imperfections, and cultivating a sense of superiority and purity based on national identity. But that line is very faint, very subjective, and seemingly very easy to cross.