Yesterday, in Australia, we celebrated ANZAC Day. It was a public holiday. It began with diligent citizens gathering at memorial structures to commemorate and commiserate. We acknowledged those Australians and New Zealanders who fought for our land and our freedom; those who died and those who survived; those who were sacrificed and those who sacrificed themselves; those who lost loved ones and those whose lives were changed forever.
Grateful civilians and current armed force soldiers spent a minute thinking about the sacrifice and the benefits gained from war. We watched marches and honoured old soldiers with speeches.
I feel united with fellow Australians, no matter where they came from. Aboriginals, Irish, British, Italian, Maltese, Iranian, Indonesian, Indian, Japanese, Chinese, Vietnamese… whatever. In Australia, we’re a mix. We get along well.
I am a grateful civilian. In Australia, I feel safe.
Unfortunately, not everyone who doesn’t feel safe, who’s suffering in their country, can get in to this refuge, this paradise we call Australia. There’s an entrance fee to this party and being so exclusive, it’s high. Desperate people try to get in the back door. But they get caught and they pay. They must be invited and despite horrible need, the uninvited are rejected. Australia doesn’t want them unless there’s something in it for them.
Where they come from, there is war, there is famine, there is persecution and unrelenting hardship. The humane thing to do would be to let them in, give them a chance to start over, share what we have, share our good luck. For luck is all it is.
If we were born here, we hit the jack pot. If we were allowed to settle here, we won the lottery. Luck is what separates us. Our consciences should admit that.
But coming back to ANZAC Day: a war was fought so that we would remain lucky. It was won. With the eternal flame, Australians will be eternally grateful.
Grateful but conflicted. There is so much war in the world. People fight over land, over God, over who is the superior race. Huge numbers of people die. Soldiers, civilians, old people, innocent children. Governments spend a fortune protecting their piece of earth or attacking someone else’s. The lunacy is escalating.
In Australia this year, our government has spent about $50 billion strengthening our armed forces. Imagine what else could be done with that.
Imagine a world where the military funds were spent on restoring the planet’s health.
Imagine a world where humanity appreciated and respected others’ differences instead of divisively guarding similarities.
Imagine a world where people learned from one another, moving around as if the earth was one country, living where they liked, sharing resources. Imagine.
Imagine a world with no war.
Can it only be a dream? Sadly, for a long while, I think so. But dreams are there to be reached for. Dreams are goals, so make them for good.
It would be helpful to remember the ethical code of the ANZACs. No wounded comrade would be left behind on the battlefield if there was the smallest chance of saving them. They might have only known that person for a short while, but young men risked their lives to help. They had a conscience, a feeling of mateship, camaraderie, empathy. They could imagine themselves as the other.
That’s what we need to do. We need to imagine ourselves in the other’s shoes. We need to imagine we’re all mates. We need to imagine us all getting along and the earth being one. We need to imagine a planet where there was no need for war. We need to imagine a time where we could all be grateful.
Picture courtesy of ABC Australia 2021
Carla Simmons Writer 