The Idea of Australia: A Search for the Soul of the Nation

by Julianne Schultz

Former publisher of Griffith Review Professor Julianne Schultz challenges our notions of what it means to be Australian and asks timely and urgent questions about our national identity.

Maybe, because Australia has been so rich for so long, complacency and entitlement, rather than innovation and aspiration, have become the norm. Maybe, because the habit of not looking back has become so ingrained, we are incapable of imagining what we might become, as we have little idea of how we got here. Maybe, because we have for so long accommodated bullies, we retreated to smaller dreams in manageable spaces. Maybe, because so few of our political leaders have had courageous imaginations, they are in fact led by others. Maybe, because we are ashamed of our racialist past, we forgot how to hold on to the good bits. Maybe, Australia being home to the world's oldest continuous culture is just too difficult for its white settlers to comprehend. Australia needs to address these issues if it is to become more than a half-formed idea.

What is the 'idea of Australia'? What defines the soul of our nation? Are we an egalitarian, generous, outward-looking country, or is Australia a nation that has retreated into silence and denial about the past and become selfish, greedy, and insular?

A lifetime of watching the country as a journalist, editor, academic, and writer has given Julianne Schultz a unique platform from which to ask and answer these big and urgent questions. The global pandemic gave her a time to study the X-ray of our country and the opportunity for perspective and analysis.

Schultz came to realise that the idea of Australia is a contest between those who are imaginative, hopeful, altruistic, and ambitious, and those who are defensive and inward-looking. She became convinced we need to acknowledge and better understand our past to make sense of our present and build a positive and inclusive future. She suggests what Australia could be: smart, compassionate, engaged, fair and informed.

Braiding her personal experience with often untold stories from our poorly understood history, Schultz finds a resourceful and creative people who have often been badly served by timid and self-interested leaders: a people eager to meaningfully recognise First Australians and address the flaw at the heart of the nation. A people who are not afraid of change and put culture ahead of politics. She tells us revealing stories that we rarely hear from our media or leaders. This important, searing, and compelling book explains us to ourselves and suggests ways Australia can realise her true potential. Urgent, inspiring, and optimistic, The Idea of Australia presents the vision we need to fully appreciate our country's great strengths and crucial challenges.

Genres: Nonfiction, Australia, History, Politics

432 pages, Paperback

Published March 1, 2022

About the author

JULIANNE SCHULTZ is the founding editor of Griffith REVIEW. She is on the boards of the Australian Broadcasting Corporation and Grattan Institute. She is the Chair of the Queensland Design Council and the reference group on the National Cultural Policy, deputy chair of the Australian Council of Learned Academies Securing Australia’s Future project and on advisory committees with a focus on education, media and Indigenous issues. Since co-chairing the Creative Australia stream at the 2020 Summit she has been actively involved in cultural policy debates. She has been a judge of the Miles Franklin Award, Myer Foundation Fellowships and Walkley Awards. She is the author of Reviving the Fourth Estate: Democracy, accountability and the media (Cambridge University Press, 1998), Steel City Blues (Penguin, 1985) and the librettos Black River and Going into Shadows.

Reviews

[Mike · Rating 5 out of 5]

A recently released nonfiction work, The Idea of Australia: a search for the soul of the nation by Julianne Schultz is a most interesting analysis of Aussie culture. Comprising twenty chapters and some personal referencing and storytelling, Schultz explores various themes. The meaning of being an Australian is revealed through its traditions of equality and fairness but also through the lenses of culture, dispossession, media and the “incurable flaw” at the basis of our nation. Basically, it comes down to a dichotomy of the imaginative, hopeful, altruistic and ambitious nature of some Australians or those who are defensive and inward-looking. In moving forward in these troubled times, she asks which of these two types do we want to be? With plentiful footnotes and an expansive index, this is a most readable contribution to reflecting on the ‘soul of our nation’. A highly recommend work with a five star read rating.

[Jennifer (JC-S) · Rating 4 out of 5]

‘Culture is the real barometer of change. Politics often follows.’

After reading enthusiastic reviews of this book by those whose opinions I value, I bought a copy for myself. I read slowly, to think about some of the important albeit uncomfortable questions Professor Shultz raises.

I agree with at least some of Professor Schultz’s conclusions, especially with this: ‘the idea of Australia is a contest between those who are imaginative, hopeful, altruistic and ambitious, and those who are defensive and inward-looking.’

Perhaps, now that we have had a change of government, there is reason for optimism. Perhaps. I agree that we need to acknowledge and better understand our past so that we can make sense of the present and build a positive and inclusive future. But I worry that the current economic climate and the ongoing pandemic will make this even more difficult.

We need to consider the long-term underlying issues while at the same time reacting to urgent emerging needs. We need to plan as well as react.

I would recommend this book to every Australian.

Jennifer Cameron-Smith

[Lisa · Rating 4 out of 5]

Gosh, I thought when I opened this book to 6 pages of enthusiastic praise from advance readers... what can I possibly say about The Idea of Australia, a search for the soul of the nation, that hasn't been said by these eminent Australians?

Who are they? Not your average blurbers!

They're all public intellectuals, who like Schultz herself, are engaged in what we might call the Australia Project:  a plethora of Professors including Glyn Davis, Tom Griffith,  Jenny Hocking, Ann Curthoys, Frank Bongiorno and Clare Wright; journalists Kerry O'Brien and Tony Koch; authors and editors of important books like Peter Mares, Yassmin Abdel-Magid, and Melissa Lucashenko.  That's just half of them, the ones that I've read.

Well, I'm not going to try to cover the same territory in a different way, except to say that this is a very timely book.  We are about to have an election, which gives us a chance to reset directions in important ways.  I should also say that if you have already decided that you have had enough of the present government and its commitment to its ideological predecessors you will probably enjoy this book and its wide-ranging survey of Australia and its issues.  If you are undecided, you will probably find it interesting if not always even-handed, and if you are planning to vote for more of the same, well, no book will help you.

The blurb gives an indication of the issues we need to think about, when we cast a vote...

In lieu of a proper review, I'll quote the clarion call at the end of the book, with one from the beginning to give it context.  In the first chapter, titled 'Terra Nullius of the Mind', Schultz quotes from David Marr's book My Country:

My country is the subject that interests me most, and I have spent my career trying to untangle its mysteries... Wanting to understand my country came, right from the start, with wanting it to change.  I had a naïve notion that change would come simply by setting out the facts with clarity and goodwill.  I had a lot to learn... Why I wonder, is a secular, educated, prosperous and decent country so prey to fear and capable of such cruelty?  Why are we ruled from the edges? (P4)

Schultz explores these contradictions in 400+ passionate pages of philosophy, political history and memoir, and she comes to the conclusion that boldness is needed.

Be bold, be bold, be bold.  Reform is hard.  But worth it.  Adopting this ambition and applying the values of respect and truthfulness, imagination, fairness and egalitarianism would be a start.  Platitudes are not enough.  A fully formed nation—grounded in a civic, not ethnic, way of belonging—without fear is still possible.  The soul of the nation has a rich inner life.  It holds the dreams and stories of those who have always been here and those who have come in waves ever since.

My search for the soul of the nation tells me that despite the noise from the fringes, and Canberra's selective hearing, many, maybe even most, Australians are willing to be bold.  (p.416)

For links to other reviews and an extract to read, please visit https://anzlitlovers.com/2022/04/04/t...

[Keen Reader · Rating 3 out of 5]

“Luck is not a rational basis for the life of a nation, but a good predictor for complacency. Why bother if it is just a matter of luck?”

Over the years Australia seems to be one of these countries which at times almost seemed to delight in its ability to display its racism, ignorance, sexism and homophobia showing them off to the rest of the world like badges of honour, as if those traits themselves are enough to amount to a genuine identity.

The facts stand for themselves, Australia has always just been that little bit behind most of the developed, western world, in terms of progressive reforms and coming to terms with its shocking past. Its attitudes towards homosexuality, female rights and first nation issues reveal the dark truth about their priorities and beliefs at the highest level. The parallels between Oz and the US are so obvious they are hard to ignore, both huge masses of land, and former British colonies founded on slaughter, genocide, slavery and greed, which did their best to obliterate the native populations by any means necessary. The pioneers robbed, lied and butchered their way to power and influence taking vast amounts of land for themselves and did everything in their power to maintain that status quo since then.

For so long so much of contemporary Australian politics has felt like a competitive right wing hate fest, between a band of incompetent, mediocre old, rich white men, bullying and braying over each other, seeing who can be seen to be the most ignorant or offensive, creating a veritable idiocracy which seems to relish its own crass anti-intellectualism, wearing it like a cheap and nasty suit, as they enrich themselves, dumb down politics and reign in any unfavourable media and continue with their appalling environmental record, and in spite of year upon year of deadly and destructive wildfires on horrendous scales, they still have very little interest in ever addressing the root cause.

“The COVID X-ray” is a phrase Schultz has clearly taken a shine to, even when it’s not entirely relevant, it’s shoe-horned into paragraph after paragraph, as if desperately trying to make something relevant. I think this suffered from bad editing and inconsistency of tone and intent, it suffered from many dull and dry spells which really dragged and the timeline seemed to veer all over the place, which is a shame as there is a lot of quality in here. There were spells where this really started to pick up and began to read more smooth and coherently and the points she was driving at became a bit clearer, but these were always short lived and as a result this was just too off balance to really hit the spot.

[Sam · Rating 2 out of 5]

I read this book on the plane to Australia. The idea was, I'd read it, arrive in the Antipodes, and be all set to talk to Australians about their country.

It was hard going to be honest. The first 100 pages were all about the First Nations. They've had a pretty hard time and you've gotta really grit your teeth to get through it.

    But I did it. I wanted to understand. So I ignored the feeling in my gut which was asking about Captain Cook and the hundreds of thousands of (mostly British, sometimes forced) migrants and absolutely smashed through multiple chapters about racism and politics by the gun (were there any other politics in the 1700s?) instead.

Pages 100-150 were about feminism. Which was fine. Feminism, is important when describing the soul of Australia.

Page 151, the writer has a crack at Rupert Murdoch, who is a villain to be fair.

Page 152 to the end is all about the intersectionality of racism, sexism and Rupert Murdoch.

And that's that. According to Julianne Schultz (the author), Australia is defined by its racism toward its original inhabitants, sexism towards its women and Rupert Murdoch being a bellend.

I'd not spent much time in Australia before, so who was I to disagree?

Day four of my trip, I sit down opposite an Aussie squaddie, and I tell him about the book. I asked him about racism, sexism and Rupert Murdoch.

"Aw mate," he said. "That's a load of sh*t, what you been reading?".

Nightmare. Maybe I just asked the wrong guy. Maybe Julianne Schultz has the wrong end of the stick.

Either way, me and this guy ended up going to the toilet together (we chose urinals at opposite ends of the gents). He didn't wash his hands on the way out.

Maybe that's the soul of Australia.

[Craig Bellamy · Rating 2 out of 5]

Although the author has made a bold attempt at writing a book on the subject "the idea of Australia" the authior doesn't manage to get anywhere near its subtitle "the soul of Australia" (perhaps look in Fitzroy or Newtown). And although there are some pearls of wisdom in the book and it is well written, it is patchy in terms of scholarship and way out of scope. It is journalism more than history and lacks intellectual breath and generosity and is embedded in a narrow stump-speech political culture more than a scholarly one. There is a whole bunch of unnecessary stuff on covid wrapped in historical determinism as thought history not epidemiology determined our decisions . Plus all the dated anti-British rhetoric that goes on and on chapter after chapter. Perhaps this is what makes Australia unique. An imagined oppositional identity to a Britain that may have never existed.

And no mention of Modernity or industrialation and how they weave with Aboriginal Australia. Modern Australians like to draw a line between the colonial and the modern as though they are two separate things. Indeed, what have the Romans ever done for us (to quote the Life of Brian).Perhaps these frames are too onerous and the Modern Australian mind just calls them colonial in the hope we have moved beyond. This book is prosaic and oppositional lacking fresh insight, synthesis, balance, and judgement in a time when we need it more than ever.

[Andrew Deakin · Rating 3 out of 5]

The general reader picking up a copy of the March 2022 book 'The Idea of Australia: A search for the soul of the nation' can be in no doubt about what to expect: the cover and six pages of the front matter are festooned with effervescent endorsements from a parade of notables from many of Australia's most vigorous cultural institutions. 

The ABC's notoriously politicised former current affairs frontman Kerry O'Brien, corporate apostate, full-time hijab adopter, Australia Council grant recipient, and Aussie accent hater Yassmin Abdel-Magied, anti-Liberal academic and palace baiter Professor Jenny Hocking, former activist journalist, biographer, and academic Associate Professor Christine Wallace, perennial decrier of mainstream economics journalist Peter Mares, and many, many others - all are united in praise for this 'triumph of art, politics, literature, history and the deepest scholarship' (Hocking).

A reader anticipating these delights very likely and regrettably will be disappointed. 'Art, history, literature, scholarship' appear only occasionally, and then thinly, in the book's general complaints about the materialist preoccupations of modern Australians, their apparent disregard for the nation’s allegedly brutal history, and their antipathy to proposals for greater government control of the nation’s resources and development.

This is a hefty 400 pages plus book, with a title foregrounding the ideas and soul of a modern nation. A reader can expect that reasonably detailed analysis and discussion of the country's history, foundational philosophies, and spiritual expressions will feature prominently. Relevant art and literature would be cited substantially. What drove the political and cultural development of modern Australia, where is it headed, and what should change to motivate and expedite a beneficent future?

The reader of 'The Idea of Australia: a search for the soul of the nation' will look in vain for significant analysis and discussion of these questions.

No analysis, for example, is provided of the iconic Australian paintings by a major artist such as Sidney Nolan (except to note parenthetically that Rupert Murdoch bought one); only a few passing references occur to left wing historian Manning Clark's voluminous, and, one would think, helpfully negative, accounts of Australian history.

No reference is made to historian Geoffrey Blainey's influential ideas on the impact of the 'tyranny of distance' on the development of modern Australia (he appears once as a 'feisty conservative' whose ideas informed former Prime Minister John Howard's views on history, and once again disparagingly in relation to his view that the High Court's 1992 recognition of native land rights may deny the legitimacy of Australia's settlement).

One quote suffices from Nobel Prize winning and distinctively Australian novelist, playwright, and polemicist Patrick White (Australia as 'hateful', but necessary to him). Not even some sexually bracing and culturally antipathetic quotes appear from contemporary, much endorsed novelist Christos Tsiolkas, who has criticised substantial elements of modern Australian life. 

It soon becomes apparent that the author does not much like Australia or its people: the nation is 'no better than average,' albeit 'a complex society,' but, one that 'advantages the few,' and its people generally are 'complacent, lazy, judgmental and angry.' 

Australia, the book argues, is defined by exclusion, isolationism, protectionism, and anti-refugee sentiment. Most damningly, it is asserted that Australia is characterised by silences and forgetfulness in regard to its native aboriginal culture. 

The book limits itself almost entirely to events in Australian political and social life within the author's post-war (WW11) experiences, and within that limited band, to events that displeased so-called progressives. 

The evidence for the negative assessment of Australia includes: alleged insularity and provincialism during the post-war reconstruction in the 1950s; the White Australia Policy that lingered into the 1960s (partly motivated at inception by considerations related to sustaining incomes in early twentieth century labour markets, and underpinning already comparatively reasonable living standards); the gubernatorial termination of the reformist Whitlam government in the 1970s; the so-called 'neo-liberal Friedmanite' economic restructuring by Labor governments in the 1980s; the minority yes vote at the Republic referendum in 1999; the 'relaxed and comfortable' philosophy of Liberal Prime Minister John Howard in the 2000s; the anti-Asian immigration remarks of lone rider politician Pauline Hanson; and the Howard and Abbott governments' deterrence of illegal immigration in the opening decades of this century.

Interspersed among the references to these events are ongoing complaints about centrist and right of centre opinions propounded in the Murdoch media, and an alleged insufficiency in funding for Australia's public and multicultural broadcasters ('cowed', and struggling for money, apparently, with $1.4 billion per year deemed not fit for purpose).

Not surprisingly, given these preoccupations, the book's extensive litany of antipathies towards modern Australia is interrupted only once to record an apparent and brief political and cultural 'Renaissance': the Whitlam era of the early 1970s, when the national government funded an extensive range of welfare programs and artistic endeavours. 

And therein lies the book's program for change - more government. Its call to arms is a vague 'be bold, be bold', an admonition taken from nineteenth century Australian women's rights and voting reform activist Rose Scott (and taken out of context, a characteristic of this book).

The recommended forward strategy is also second hand: a set of proposals taken from the American academic historian and essayist Jill Lapore. They include 'a new social contract for (presumably more) public goods, environmental protection, sustainable agriculture, public health, community centres, public education, grants for small business, public funding for the arts,' and the development of an 'industrial architecture with jobs that provide meaning and sustain lives and values that put respect and integrity first.' Presumably, existing jobs in Australian industry are a hellhole of poverty and misery, relatively high living standards notwithstanding.

None of these indistinct proposals are subjected to any detailed analysis of  development and implementation options, or their costs relative to alternatives. Their provenance is obvious (recurrent proposals of academics and journalists in the predominantly publicly funded institutions).

The discussion of these recommendations lacks an economically literate appreciation of the substandard performance of programs directed by government relative to private endeavours that can be undertaken with more direct and efficient incentives, and with better performance in the management of the necessary resources and related outcomes.

An unintentionally amusing vignette occurs when the author briefly recalls a discussion in the 1980s with one of Australia's most prominent academic economists, the recently deceased Professor Geoffrey Brennan, who was a global expert in the application of economic theory to public choice decisions, such as voting and efficient governance. 

Stumped by Brennan's assurances that substantial and beneficial progress would prevail when informed by rational decisions motivated by self interest, the author retires from the discussion convinced 'no doubt my scepticism was infuriating.' The respected, intelligent, and learned Brennan more likely was amused by the display of economic illiteracy.

A reader of 'The Idea of Australia' can easily devise alternative and more credible versions of Australia's development since the Second World War. The nation survived, with substantial American assistance, a threat of imminent invasion by then brutal Japanese militarism. 

Australia was able thereafter to record extraordinary gains in economic productivity, to develop rapidly a relatively very high, enviable, and broadly dispersed standard of living, with associated political freedoms, and to implement an exceptionally successful legal immigration program that has forged one of the most tolerant multicultural societies in the world. 

Australia's positive development is particularly noteworthy given alternative scenarios that easily could have occurred. Had Australia been settled by a mix of European countries, its political and social progress over the last two centuries may have been retarded and riven by diffences, conflicts, and limited national development of its highly valuable and remunerative resources. 

The establishment of a single, unitary form of democratic government along English lines, and the associated relatively benign (by global standards) social cohesion, enabled the growth of a modern, successful nation that continues to attract strong immigrant interest.

'The Idea of Australia' amounts, then, to little more than another manifestation of a recent and virulent strand in modern political life: annoyed and angry dissatisfaction among the educated middle class with the materialism and traditional cultural interests of the majority of citizens in Western countries. 

It is no surprise, therefore, that ordinary Australians appear hardly at all in the book. Their conventional patriotism, and lack of interest in a range of fashionable academic fixations (such as moving celebrations of nationhood from the foundation date, or modern gender theories) presumably are embarrassing for the modern self-proclaimed cosmopolitan. 

The historical plight of Aboriginal Australians is referenced continually in the book, and the absence of a formal treaty with them when modern Australia was settled by the British becomes a recurring rationale for the book's proposals to change modern Australia. 

The substantial resources currently being dedicated annually by the national government to the further development and progress of the descendants of Australia's pre-settlement cultures (1.5 times per capita on welfare relative to the non-native population) is not mentioned. 

Also overlooked are the instructions in the documents authorising the first settlement in 1788 to treat the natives with ‘amity and kindness’, and punish any settler who attacks them. The treatment of the local population often fell far short of these eighteenth century enlightenment ideals, but aggressions were neither unique nor limited to aboriginals, and the working poor among the settlers frequently fared little better than the original inhabitants. Such were the times, less materially relaxed than our own.

The difficulties endured by Australia's first settlers and squatters, the shattering and significant experiences of those who fought and died in the major wars of the last century - these and other substantial influences on modern Australia's history and development feature so minimally in the book as to be virtually non-existent. 

The fixation on settling a Treaty with the descendants of Australia's original populations reminds one of the proverbially detached Christian's noble concern for the neglected and downtrodden in foreign lands while indifferent to the needs of the domestic indigent.

A distinguishing feature of 'The Idea of Australia' is its relatively limited intellectual substance. Anecdotes substitute for evidence, and rhetoric is rarely deployed in the logical development of an extended argument. Similar points are made repetitively across multiple chapters. 

This is somewhat surprising, given the author's credentials. Julianne Schultz is a baby boomer (b.1956) daughter of strongly Christian parents. Schultz has substantial tertiary education credentials, and has had a successful career as a journalist, author, ABC manager, and board director in a wide range of organisations in (mainly publicly funded) journalism, media, arts, native culture, and academia. She founded and edited the prolific magazine of cultural commentary 'The Griffith Review', and is currently Emeritus Professor of Media and Culture at Griffith University.

Where, then, is the academic rigour such a background ought to suggest? Naïvety and casual observations substitute for detail and evidence.

A recurring motif in the book is that it represents an 'X-Ray' of contemporary Australia taken during the Covid lockdowns of 2020-21. Yet the X-Ray focuses solely on the cultural interests of middle class Australians with tertiary educations whose computer based work enabled remote servicing, while the work and lives of the Australians in what was termed 'essential services' (read workers) are not captured anywhere in this skeletal, shadowy, insubstantial snapshot. 

Some anecdotes border on the risible. Schultz records her time living on Sydney's wealthy North Shore, peering surreptitiously in the local stores at neighbours who might be among the very few who, like her, voted Labor in her electorate in the general elections. 

Particularly embarrassing is an account of her own right-on struggles in opening up access to the beach in a Harbour front apartment block. What did you do in the war, Mummy?

Worse, Schultz cannot understand why people (the majority) not only do not not share her ideas, and those of her like-minded colleagues in her professional lives, but seem stubbornly and mulishly resistant to the apparent logic and value of her analysis. She quotes fellow journalist and author David Marr, wondering why 'setting out the facts with clarity and goodwill' has not resulted in a mass Pauline conversion among the great unwashed. 

Marr's hitherto substantial reputation for, among other things, a substantive and authoritative biography of Nobel prize winning author Patrick White takes an unfortunate and unintended sideswipe dent from this inopportune revelation.

Schultz reads at times like one of the well-off women with professional careers who have campaigned in recent political elections for more action on climate change and related causes. These so-called Teals (Liberal blue and climate green) emerged almost certainly after Schultz finished her book, but she seems a definitive representative of this new breed of middle class political activism - comfortably preserved in substantial material wealth, tertiary educated, and naively obsessed by fashionable 'progressive' causes whose appeal includes their relatively chic elitism.

The book is also at times both comically and annoyingly simplistic. The analysis rarely goes further than a Manichaean us/them duality: the leftist ABC/ALP good, the centrist and right wing Coalition (especially former PM Howard) and the Murdoch press bad. 

The text suggests several times that a modern Orwellian dystopia is upon us. The effect is ludicrous. The Covid lockdowns are presented as a harbinger of future dislocation under climate change events 'as profound as war.' 

The challenge of limiting excess global emissions of greenhouse gases may be substantial, but the suggestion 'our children face a more constrained future' than the author's generation is melodramatic and unevidenced. It contradicts the well publicized projections by the Australian federal Treasury that future wealth is likely to advance so substantially that the costs of climate policies will be relatively minimal, to the point of immateriality. 

Occurring early in the book, these suggestions of future calamities prefigure the exaggerations and theatrics to come in later chapters.

'The Idea of Australia' is not an accessible and straightforward read. The book's twenty chapters over 400 pages provide a largely erratic sequence of views and anecdotes, across a sporadic range of themes and subjects, in vaguely connected chapters ('Terra Nullius of the Mind', 'A Fair Go', 'The Incurable Flaw', 'The More Things Change ...', 'Soul Destroying', etc.). Did the budget of the publisher (Allen and Unwin) not extend to the funding of a competent editor?

The Idea of Australia: A search for the soul of the nation" could and should have been much better than a meandering collection of historical platitudes, inane observations of contemporary life and manners, and a short list of predictably mundane and inefficient recommendations for the further development of Australia. 

Posing as a rallying cry for advancing Australia, with only the simplistic and unhelpful 'be bold, be bold' to address the book's ostentatious claims of crisis and misery in Australia, it can easily put the (admittedly facile) reader in mind more of the tag of the author's 1960s' American TV sitcom namesake: Sergeant Schultz's 'I know nothing.' 

Australia as an idea can be summarised briefly: settled by the British in the late eighteenth century on Enlightenment principles, to capitalise on the emerging strategic importance of the Pacific, deploying convicts initially as the main labour force, it developed quickly into a relatively independent democracy in line with the British liberal principles of the time, and emerged in the twentieth century as a single successful nation with a diverse immigrant population and a strong record of meeting the material needs of its citizens, responding strongly to external threats with the support principally of the United States, resolving robust internal debates about its governance and development, developing a vibrant artistic and literary culture with strongly humane and democratic values, and well positioned early in the twenty first century to sustain its democratic spirit, ensure a prosperous and rewarding future as a relatively new and modern multicultural nation with a unique indigenous legacy, and manage the substantial external challenges posed by the increasing power of the world’s aggressive autocracies.

Present domestic difficulties (including especially the substantial welfare problems of many of its more isolated aboriginal citizens) are not insubstantial. 

Previous actions, such as the successful transformation of the economy in the 1980s that avoided the trap of economic decline that afflicted many settler nations in South America, and Australia's continuing artistic and cultural strengths, suggest the nation has a robust and successful future. 

A significant challenge to the idea of Australia is the increasingly aggressive stand taken by the autarchies that, like China, either remain in thrall to regressive and discredited nineteenth century communism, or, like Russia, cannot manage a coherent transition to modern, competitive nationhood, while being increasingly unstable and richly larded with nuclear weaponry.

This challenge will likely dominate assessments of Australia's immediate future, and the liberal philosophies that informed its founding. Again, the reader expecting ideas such as these to be addressed in a book on the idea of Australia will remain unrewarded.

The influence of Schultz's surprisingly superficial book is likely therefore to be minimal. It is a wasted effort. It takes substantial time and resources to compose and compile a book of this size and ambition. Yet the result falls far short of its titular claims. It is unlikely to refocus or progress debate or understanding of the development of Australia, its ideas past and present, or its future. 

At least we know now from this book what excites the enthusiasms of the good and the great of Australia's largely publicly funded cultural institutions, whose ravishing endorsements adorn the cover of this unintentionally self-revelatory jeremiad.

[Philip · Rating 4 out of 5]

What I loved most about this book is its cutting sass. With chapter headings like 'terra nullius of the mind' and 'slightly better than average, again', how could I not enjoy this biting critique of Australian identity and culture.

Perhaps my favourite passage from the book is on the wilful ignorance, simplistic, and congratulatory self-perception of Australians: 'Describing Australia's defining nature beyond the physical - her spirit, her essence - rarely gets beyond worthy anodyne statements of universal values, pride in democratic institutions, and boastful backslapping about being the most successful multicultural nation in the world'. Of course, this overlooks the inconvenient truth of historical and ongoing systemic racism, from the colonial massacres of Aboriginal peoples, the White Australia policy (which only ended in 1975), to today's vilification of asylum seekers.

As the author points out, 'if you are looking for one thing that makes Australia unique, it is that Australia is home to the oldest living cultures in the world'. Although you wouldn't know it judging by the way Rio Tinto blew up Jukaan Gorge in 2020, which was an Aboriginal sacred site showing evidence of continual human habitation for over 46,000 years (Could you imagine Britain bulldozing Stone Henge or the Uffington White Horse?).

The phrase 'the Lucky Country' that had been conjured by Donald Horne in 1964 as an ironic quip has since been taken literally. To reclaim the original meaning, Australia is lucky despite its leaders. But unlike fairness and luck, cleverness has not taken root in the national psyche. A 'she'll be right' attitude pervades cultural and political thought. Tall poppies are cut down and dismissed as whiners. People with the courage to question the establishment and the status-quo are routinely pilloried. Rather, sportsmen and soldiers are mythologised, and Nobel Prize winners are forgotten. An entire generation that cannot afford to buy a home to raise a family are told to work harder. People who point out endemic sexism or racism in Australia (e.g. Yassmin Abdel-Magied, Adam Goodes, Stan Grant, Behouz Boochani, Brittany Higgins) are ostracised from public life. Australians pride ourselves on our friendliness, openness, and having a culture of a 'fair go', but the historical data suggests such a privilege is generally limited to white heterosexual males.

In summary, the author's thesis is that Australia is stuck in an unexamined past. To quote: 'I don't want to have to constantly re-enact Ned Kelly, Donald Bradman or Gallipoli'. Beyond the romanticisms of the jolly swagman, the 'larrikin' Aussie battler, 'mateship', and our inability to shake-off the Union Jack, Australian history overwhelmingly ignores that fact that Australia has so much more to offer than an Anglo-Saxon male Crocodile Dundee-esque identity. Given that over 8 million Australians are born overseas, Australia needs to re-think its self-image.

As engaging as this book is, the reason I gave 4 stars is because it came off as a bit polemical. There was also a lack of clear structure to the chapters. That said, I enjoyed reading it and I would recommend the book to others.

[Lawrence Wray · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a long read but it didn't feel like it. In the middle of a federal election campaign, it provokes the imagination to an alternate future for this country. There is such a dearth of imagination in this country about what we could be or can be, what futures we could construct. Schultz thank god provides bucket loads of the stuff to tempt us to take other pathways than the worn and well trod neoliberalist highway.

[Clare · Rating 2 out of 5]

DNF.

Ah, had to give it up as a lost cause after I borrowed it from the libaray on 2 separate occasions and maxed out the extension periods both times. I only ever got up to about a third of the book. Disppointing because the premise seemed to relevant and engaging - I was expecting a systematic, and well-reasoned analysis of the Australian psyche. It may well be that the author wouldn't have any particular arguments to prosecute, I thought to myself, but a thought-through open-ended analysis would've been good too. Unfortunately, I didn't get any of that. It was a meandering recount threaded through with anecdotes that jumped between the past and the present without any discernable reason why these particular anecdotes were chosen or necessary to advance any given point or, worse still, why a particular point was being made at all. There was nothing much in the part I did read that was new - whether it be an old topic approached from a new angle or the snythesising together of several different ideas in combinations that one might not have otherwise thought of easily. Generally speaking, it did not present nor prompt the deep thinking that I would've expected from a work of non-fiction of this kind, particularly one written by an academic.

The writing style also grated; it was too overwritten and the language just presented as a distraction. It was neither urgent and pacy, nor analytical and thorough. It was just... showy and unnecessary.

[Alex Rogers · Rating 5 out of 5]

Wow - Schultz takes on a huge challenge here, attempting to find the "soul of the nation" and encapsulate it in a book-length exploration of where we have come from, who we are now as a people, and where we could go. What kind of nation could we be? And she has nailed it. The subject could fill 4 or 5 books the same length - but I think she has done an incredible job of distilling the essence of it into one. As a "new Australian" who has only been here 24 years, the historical context (and particularly the politico-social background of modern Australia) was fascinating to me and really illuminating. And she does sterling work on synthesising a lot of strands into a very strong and positive thesis, that really feels "of the moment". This is the right time for the book - with the world increasingly lurching into crisis, but still with enough time to effect the change we want to be. Highly recommended.

[Janine · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book is timely, given that we faced a general election in the wake of strange times. But I also have hopes that, given its historic span that draws from historians and events across Australia’s history, it might transcend that short-termism. I suspect this book may well stand the test of time, as Donald Horne’s The Lucky Country, Hancock’s Australia, Bernard Smith’s Boyer Lecture The Spectre of Truganini and Stanner’s phrase ‘The Great Australian Silence’, each of which she references repeatedly, have managed to do. At least, I hope that it does. By talking of ‘the soul of the Nation’ she steps beyond the economy and politics into something more intimate and powerful and inspirational.

For my complete review, please visit
https://residentjudge.com/2022/06/18/...

[Lee McKerracher · Rating 4 out of 5]

I would love to see this book on every high school curriculum and on every bookshelf in the country.

Julianne Schultz has succinctly defined the idea of Australia - our faults, the things we try to ignore, the things we deny and how this has shaped our history. There is hope but there needs to be a reckoning.

One paragraph towards the end of the book summed it up for me:

"It is hard to escape the conclusion that until Australians are prepared to seriously consider the good and the bad of the past, to recognise and address the structural factors that, as a nation and as individuals, prevent us from realising our potential, we will be trapped forever on a treadmill, running but going nowhere. We need to pay attention."

Yes we do.

[Kim Wingerei · Rating 4 out of 5]

A broad canvas used to paint Australia for what it is and what it isn’t

But also an opportunity missed. The author has done a great job of bringing together all the various strands of the narrative that makes Australia what is is, and especially how it has gone backwards over the last few decades. But she is let down by poor editing, both in some detail and in missing structure; and - as is so often the case with ambitious works such as this - failing to bring it all together to point more strongly to what the answers could be and how to find them. Thus I was left disappointed, wanting more.

[Martin · Rating 5 out of 5]

Just finished the book on the train this morning to work. Being an immigrant from China 10 years with a gradually patched impression of Australia from culture shock to life, leisure, adventure, and life to embrace multicultural which is new to me as the majority of race is 90%, the multicultural doesn't seem to exist to me when I grew up.

The book opens eyes for me to understand the history of Australia's progress from an inward-looking country to an open and multicultural country.

[Jo · Rating 4 out of 5]

It took a while to get through this book because it is so thought provoking in its narrative - inviting reflection and argument along the way. There is so much to the soul of Australia that requires exploration, acceptance, and contrition. This book draws out these themes and challenges us to dare to dream for an acceptance of who we are as a nation.

[Madilina · Rating 5 out of 5]

Read what the critics says on the front and back covers.
Jenny Hocking sums it up well: 'A triumph of art, politics, literature, history, and the deepest scholarship ... A towering achievement.'

A great read!

[Bill Porter · Rating 3 out of 5]

Very "worthy". And not always in a positive kind of way.