Nation unites behind right to differ during Australia Day celebrations

IT is supposed to be the day that unites us but could it really be Australia Day without a little division?

IT is supposed to be the day that unites us but could it really be Australia Day without a little division?

The Australian of the Year, Mick Dodson, kicked things off with rancour on Sunday, saying thanks for the honour but there was nothing about January 26 that he really wanted to celebrate.

Kevin Rudd was yesterday sympathetic, to a point. He responded to calls to change the date with a "simple, respectful, straightforward" not on your life.

"We are a free country and it is natural and right from time to time that there will be conversations about such important symbols for our nation," said the Prime Minister, who was busy making new citizens at a ceremony at Regatta Point in Canberra

"There has always been controversies about national days. But this is not the point."

No, Mr Rudd said, the central point was "to fashion unity from diversity and to do so through tolerance and respect". (And national pride aside, that was pretty much what Barack Obama asked of America in his inaugural address: "unity of purpose, over conflict and discord.")

Still, there were the usual disputes about the ways in which different Australians tend to celebrate Australia Day and whether those celebrations were charming, or merely cringe-worthy.

To some, Australia Day is a public holiday, no more or less than that. To others, it's a chance to work, and earn double pay. In Melbourne, many celebrate with music (the Big Day Out) and sport (in particular, tennis.) In Adelaide, they have cricket; in Brisbane, some good-humoured galahs were yesterday racing cockroaches in a pub.

In Perth, there are fireworks on the Swan River but let's be frank: Australia Day has traditionally been bigger in Sydney than anywhere else, which makes sense, given what it celebrates - the establishment by Arthur Phillip of the colony of NSW.

The fever is catching. Across the nation yesterday, people took to the streets with a fervour that has only recently been encouraged. In all states, there were Aussie flags on the collars of dogs; and young, bare-chested men draped in the Australia flag and sporting Southern Cross tattoos; gorging on lamb chops and lamingtons; on supermarket dips and crinkle-cut chips; and on VB, drunk straight from a bottle in a brown paper bag. Among the throng on the foreshore of Sydney Harbour yesterday (and there were thongs, too, big green, yellow, inflatable ones, floating off Bondi, but that's another story) was the Winchester family, of Sydney's Hornsby.

They attracted attention with an Australian flag table cloth, rubbery stubby holders in the colours of the flag, and a giant, blow-up hand with a pointing finger, featuring the Southern Cross.

"Ten years ago, you'd walk into the $2 shop, and you'd be lucky to find a T-shirt," Bob Winchester said.

"This year, we got heaps of stuff."

The sale of such paraphernalia suggests to Mr Winchester that Australia Day is becoming more popular, and that people no longer feel squeamish about national pride.

"Why shouldn't we celebrate?" he said.

"It's a fantastic day. The Americans have Thanksgiving, and we have this."

Roy Miles, who sat with Mr Winchester at Milsons Point, said he had lived in enough countries to know that Australia "is the best place on earth".

And what's so good about it? "It's the lifestyle," Mr Miles replied.

"It's the climate. It's the Australian sense of humour. If you haven't had a bit of a laugh by the end of the day, there's something wrong."

All were aware of the debate about the date, but Mr Winchester couldn't consider it. "No," he said, firmly. "There's only one other date that would do, and that's the first of April."

At the other end of the same park, a bronzed Corey Stain, known to chippie mates as Dusty, was thinking much the same thing. He wore a flag across his shoulders like a Superman cape and, he said, he "couldn't be more proud" of his country.

"Look at us, all these cultures, all in together," he said, kicking a footy to a new friend, a bloke he'd christened Nessy (Why? Because he was from Scotland).

"We've got the best beaches, the best weather, the best-lookin' women."

He'd heard the debate about the date but preferred not to get involved. "Mate, that's a bit political," he said. "We're just here for the beer."

Across the way, Ronnie Tait, 62, and his wife of 19 years, Maria, were enjoying the day off from their workplace, Woolies.

"Why wouldn't you celebrate?" he said.

"Look at what this country's got. Nice weather, and nobody shooting at you.

"I wouldn't get too worried about the date. It's a good country, whatever people say."