Journal articles on the topic '1821-1881 Political and social views'

In the first decades of the 20th century, as a result of revolutionary uprisings and changes in the foreign and domestic policy of the state, the question of the integrity of the country and the state system became the subject of numerous discussions in literary circles. During this period the literary activity of the young poet, writer and literary critic B. Sadovskoy (1881–1952) began to flourish. His name was undeservedly forgotten and only thanks to the efforts of modern scholars it is included in the scientific work again. Social and political views of B. Sadovskoy changed radically during the time whenRussiaunderwent historical changes. Being a monarchist in the pre-revolutionary period, B. Sadovskoy attempted to warn contemporaries concerning the danger of cardinal transformations. The aim of our article is to study the social and political views of the writer in the pre-revolutionary period. Particular attention is paid to the problem of the Black Hundreds, involvement in which was considered unacceptable among the intelligentsia and, if exposed and confirmed, could negatively affect the author’s literary activity depriving the writer of the opportunity to publish in “respected” journals. The views of B. Sadovskoy were close to the ideas of the Black Hundreds. Despite the fact that there is no direct evidence of his connection with the Black Hundred organizations, researchers are aware of his close friendship with one of the most prominent Black-Hundred representative – B. Nikolsky. The writer’s assistance in publishing articles by A. Tinyakov in the journals “Rech” and “Zemshchina” was also proved. An irreconcilable attitude to the latest literary movements, in particular, to futurism was also considered by contemporaries as an attempt to dissociate himself from the ideas and views of the Symbolists. At the end of his literary career he acknowledged that bolshevism regime was the one that his country deserved. Mostly he wrote about that in his diaries and in letters to his friends.

Summary Towards the end of his career, August Schleicher (1821–1868), the great consolidator of Indo-European historical-comparative linguistics in the mid-19th century, famously drew explicit parallels between linguistics and the new evolutionary theory of Darwinism. Based on this, it has become customary in linguistic historiography to refer to Schleicher’s ‘Darwinian’ theory of language, even though it has long been established that Schleicher’s views have other origins that pre-date his contact with Darwinism. For his contemporary critics in Germany, however, Schleicher’s thinking was an example not of Darwinism but of ‘materialism’. This article examines what ‘materialism’ meant in 19th-century Germany – its philosophical as well as its political dimensions – and looks at why Schleicher’s critics applied this label to him. It analyses the relevant aspects of Schleicher’s linguistics and philosophy of science and the criticisms directed against them by H. Steinthal (1823–1899). It then discusses the contemporary movement of scientific materialism and shows how Schleicher’s political views, social background and personal experiences bound him to this movement.

In 1821 Central Americans who had united to throw off the control of Spain, found themselves hopelessly divided on issues concerning the nature of the political and social institutions of the nation they had created. Confidently the Liberals challenged authority and tradition, condemned the past and its institutions and strove to construct a new world of freedom, equality, democracy and progress. Conservatives feared the rashness and the uncertainty of that new world. They thought it both foolish and unnecessary to destroy the old in order to build the new. The confrontation between Liberals and Conservatives was to be lengthy and violent. Both groups aspired to political control and, lacking practical experience in government or statesmanship, each sought political power as a vehicle for ensuring its own ascendancy and imposing its views upon the nation. One of the most troublesome issues on which they clashed was the form of government. And one of the most central figures in that conflict was Father Juan José de Aycinena.

This article looks into the representations of the Italian literary salon in the print press during the 1880s. Special attention will be given to Matilde Serao’s mediation in the private as well as in the public sphere and to her double role as salon chronicler and salon attendee. Her views with regard to the artistic and political landscape of fin de siecle Italy will be examined through a series of chronicles on Pasquale Mancini, Baroness Magliani, Francesco De Renzis and the salon of the literary magazine Capitan Fracassa. The representations of these salons in the fortnightly periodical Cronaca Bizantina (Rome, 1881–1886) as well as in the daily newspaper Corriere di Roma (1883–1886) offered a new reading experience to a wide audience and encouraged the creation of an imagined community of salon attendees. Thus, salon participation will be studied through the prism of the periodical press, which interpreted salon life as a meaningful collective experience and a decisive factor in the formation of culture. Serao’s chronicle will also be viewed as an instrument of social critique, which raised questions on the rapid expansion of mass media, the growing demand for human progress, the withering away of politics and the growing importance of art as a means of personal expression.

The question of gender representation in Béla Bartok's (1881-1945) stage works is discussed through the prism of cultural studies, with reference to the intellectual, social and political atmosphere in which the composer shaped his ideas. In this sense, it is provocative to question how the stereotyped images of women influenced/merged with Bartok's personal view on women, or is it, maybe, possible that one intimate conception of female characters, reflected the composer's specific relationship toward women? The treatment of the female character will be shown through the analysis of the plot and key scenes in Bartok's stage work.

In November 1807, Napoleon Bonaparte's troops were about to invade Portugal. To escape, the Queen of Portugal, Maria I, her son, future King Juan VI, Prince Regent at the time, as well as civilians and military men, had to embark and move to Brazil urgently. The transfer of the Portuguese court to Brazil transformed the then colony of Portugal into the seat of the Portuguese monarchy, giving the country a significant role in the economic, social, and political issues of the Portuguese Empire, between 1808 and 1821. Among the changes made by the Portuguese Crown in Brazil in the process of reorganization of the State apparatus, we highlight the creation of the Royal Treasury, similar to the one existing in Lisbon since 1761, which was responsible for the collection and accounting entries of the income generated throughout the Portuguese domain. This paper examines the balance sheets of the ledger book of the 2nd Royal Treasury General Accountancy from 1814 to 1820, based on historical and documentary research conducted in the collections of the Brazilian National Archive. The purpose of this study is to analyze the quality of the accounting information recorded in the annual balance sheets, comparing it across different periods and determining its functionality as a tax control tool. The paper contributes to the literature with information on this special historical period in which Rio de Janeiro provisionally became the capital of the Portuguese Kingdom, maintaining a vital role in the political, economic, and social context of the time. The results of the study enable us to infer the economic conception of fiscal control that the Royal Treasury exercised in its administrative and accounting organization, showing the role played by accounting in the management of the Portuguese Royal House, given that accounting records reveal the ascendancy of the environment over accounting and the influence of accounting on the environment.

This article explores the conversion of Muslims to Orthodox Christianity during the Greek War of Independence (1821–1832) and the first post-independence years as a case study which shows that religious boundaries in the Balkans do not seem to have been as insurmountable as one might think. The bonds between people of different religious affiliations, including Christians and Muslims, were not so loose in the chaotic period of the nineteenth century. Even though religious differences have always existed in South-eastern Europe, the inhabitants of that region have not always seen fellow humans with different religious affiliations as estranged others. Muslim converts to Christianity were ready to compromise their Islamic faith in exchange for security, social status, and well-being in the changed political and social environment created by Greek nationalism, with a view to advancing their professional opportunities and material interests in the new state. The Greek case is not unique. Religious conversions from Islam to Christianity occurred elsewhere in the region during the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. Yet, while Balkan historiographical literature has focused on the Islamization of Christians in the region during the Ottoman period, it has paid little attention to the inverse processes of Christianization of Muslims in the age of nationalism.

In every city community, there always exist social, economic and political- administrative bodies, whose activities and organisational structures delineate and convey the historical and cultural periods experienced by that community.The city community we aim at investigating is the Sienese one. Siena is universally recognised for its medieval reminders, as well as for those of the Renaissance, distinctly appreciable in its current urban patterns, painting pieces, and cultural goods, of which it is plenty and rightly proud.The organisation we identified as one traditionally characterising –at least in the last century and a half- and still characterising the Sienese history and culture, is the Ricovero di Mendicità, later named Casa di riposo in Campansi per anziani, unanimously known as “Campansi”.Undoubtedly, the Campansi one is not the only institution whose structural and operational evolution contributed – and keeps on contributing- to shape the history of Siena, from the social, political and institutional points of view. Nevertheless, it is surely one of the most peculiar ones, in that it has been involved in those charitable activities, which exalted Siena since the second millennium, at the time of the restoring and propitiatory journeys to the main religious destinations: Rome, Jerusalem, and Saint James of Compostela.In this study we adopt a business administration perspective, with particular reference to the structure of the accounting system and its related documentation, which the organisation had been producing in order to memorise, summarise and communicate its administrative events, these latter occurring from the exercise of its institutional function. Moreover, we acknowledge the related governance structure, selected with the purpose of making operational decisions, verifying their execution, and controlling the deriving effects. As a matter of fact, there is a tight interdependency between the governance structure and the accounting system of whichever organisation. Particularly, the investigation refers to the period we considered the most significant and interesting, the one comprised between the issuing of the law “Sull'Amministrazione delle Opere pie” (3rd August 1862) and law “Istituzioni pubbliche di beneficenza”, in 1890, respectively known as Rattazzi and Crispi law, from the Prime Ministers in charge at the time of their enactment.

The article examines the life of urban communities of Kyiv in 1880–1881 in the perception of an imperial official, senator Alexander Polovtsov (1832–1909). The author`s concept based on the opinion that an important part of historical urban studies is the analysis of the activities of urban communities. They represent the state of urban life at a particular historical stage. The article uses excerpts from the “Diary” of Alexander Polovtsov, the Head of the Senatorial Revision Commission, dedicated to his stay in Kyiv in the autumn of 1880 and early 1881. This source is valuable mainly because the author, who did not live in Kyiv (wider — in Ukraine), looked at inhabitants of the city from “outside”. Such a detached view allows us to see Kyiv citizens, firstly the officials of the administrative and administrative apparatus, clergy, landlords, intellectuals — from conservatives to liberals — through the eyes of an “outsider”, a representative of imperial power. At the same time, the article presents diaries and memoirs of representatives of the Kyiv national-democratic intelligentsia, where the events described by Alexander Polovtsov are shown from a different perspective. This perspective of the study deepens the ideas about the peculiarities of the social and cultural life of Kyiv at a crucial moment in history — on the eve of the death of Alexander II and the accession of Alexander III and the change in the political course of the Empire. The informative character of Polovtsov`s diary is determined by its genre specificity. The text is full of facts, descriptions of events, meetings with people. From the position of the imperial high official represented a diverse range of beliefs, opinions, and attitudes of Kyivans in the field of politics, economics, land tenure, education, urban development, etc. The diary is full of succinct descriptions of the individuals contacted by the author. Polovtsov`s assessments help to understand not only how the tsarist government dealt with pressing economic, social and political problems in Ukraine. It helps understand the actions in resolving urgent economic and sociopolitical problems of Ukrainian provinces, the tsarist official`s own attitude to the people in whose milieu he found himself.

<p><strong>Resumo:</strong> O presente artigo tem como proposta analisar a atuação do jornal Brazil como porta-voz do Partido Conservador na oposição, no quadro político formado durante a primeira legislatura por voto direto no Brasil (1881-1884). A partir das opiniões publicadas no periódico é possível mapear as expectativas e tensões em torno das principais questões em debate naquele momento, tais como o papel da imprensa na política, a visão conservadora sobre o exercício de governar e o movimento abolicionista. Entre os temas abordados no jornal conservador, o último era descrito pela inquietação que os manifestos em favor da extinção da escravidão traziam à sociedade, provocando a desorganização das hierarquias sociais.</p><p><strong>Palavras-chave:</strong> Conservadorismo – Escravidão – Política.</p><p> </p><p><strong>Abstract:</strong> This article aims to analyze the performance of the newspaper Brazil as the Conservative Party’s voice in Opposition within the political framework shaped during the first legislature by direct vote in Brazil (1881-1884). From the reviews published in the newspaper, it is possible to map the expectations and tensions around the main issues under discussion at the time, such as the role of media in politics, the Conservative view on the exercise of government and the abolitionist movement. Among the topics covered in the Conservative newspaper, the latter was described by the restlessness that manifests in favor of the extinction of slavery brought to society, causing the disruption of social hierarchies.</p><p><strong>Keywords:</strong> Conservatism – Slavery – Politics.</p>

At 5.00am of November the 5th, 1881, government-sanctioned troops entered the Taranaki Pā of Parihaka, arresting key leaders, expelling occupants and destroying the buildings. The impetus for the assault was highly political. On the one hand Parihaka represented a focus for a broad fear of Māori political independence. At the same time the demand for fertile farm land by colonial settlers was not being met. Scattering the people of Parihaka was a central strategy for alleviating the former and satisfying the latter. Similarly, the destruction of the material fabric of the village – its architecture – was a purposeful action designed to erase any legitimate presence over the land. Not until the publication of Dick Scott's The Parihaka Story, in 1954, were the events of Parihaka brought to a wider Pākehā audience. Today it is largely, and correctly, understood as a particularly ugly moment in our history. However, while we may have developed a certain social self-consciousness toward the racial and political ramifications of Parihaka, not enough has been made of the extraordinary architecture that framed it. In this paper I wish to add to what we do know by reviewing period photographs of Parihaka Pā at the time of the invasion. In particular, I will be giving consideration to Miti-mai-te-arera (the house of Te Whiti), Rangi Kapuia (the house of Tohu), Nuku-tewhatewha (the communal bank) and Te Niho-o-Te-Ātiawa (the dining hall). It is my view that the colonial government were right to interpret these prominent buildings as symbolically threatening and in this paper I hope to show why they were so, but also how their presence nonetheless continued well into the twentieth century.

This paper presents a comparative analysis of food patterns as the elements of political discourse in the novels by Fyodor Dostoevsky (1821-1881) and Joseph Conrad (1857-1924). The stereotypes of food behavior and the gastronomic symbols, associated with the revolutionary activities, appeared simultaneously with literary nihilists. In Dostoevsky’s Demons (1871-1872), the issue of accomplishing social harmony (which was discussed in polemics with T. Carlyle and J. S. Mill) is connected to metaphorical images of repast. The “culinary” episodes are quite limited; this “poverty” of gastronomic motives could be explained by the “industrial era” ideology, when a meal ceased to stay among existential foundations. The ”revolutionaries” destroying Russian traditional life are depicted as instruments of suicide or destruction. Heroes are eager for spiritual food but can only “devour each other” or be devoured; the “Idea”, which destroys individual organisms, turns entire social organisms into “porridge”. The abstract characters of feasts and the absence of any specific meal details symbolize “emptiness” of human existence. This rejection of “basic” elements of life can develop into “sacrificial” feasts with human victims. In Conrad’s novel The Secret Agent (1907; a dialogue with Dostoevsky), the revolutionary “sacrificial meal” appears through the “kitchen” metaphors and “slaughterhouse” symbols. The remains of an idiot sacrificed by new “apostles” resemble butcher’s by-products. The “secret agent” (Verloc) having satisfied hunger with meat (like Verkhovenskiy who is constantly hungry) is murdered with a kitchen knife as a sacrificial animal. Another expressive “gastronomic” trail is Conrad’s parody on stereotypical food asceticism of fighters for the Idea: fat anarchist Michaelis eats only raw carrots. Thus, in Dostoevsky’s and Conrad’s novels, important models of individual food behavior and culinary “bloody triune” metaphors are associated with nihilistic behavior and revolutionary activities. Food metaphors help writers to express their negative attitude towards the destructive activities of nihilists. The main ideas of the paper were presented at the BASEES Annual Conference 2018 (Fitzwilliam College — Churchill College, University of Cambridge, United Kingdom).

El uso de murallas desde los primeros momentos de la sedentarización ha buscado el cierre de asentamientos y, aunque generalmente estas construcciones procuraban la protección de sus habitantes, pudieron jugar también un papel importante en aspectos como la demostración de fuerza o de independencia política, jurídica e incluso como ornamento. En el presente trabajo realizamos una visión diacrónica de las estructuras en piedra, con especial interés de aquellas estudiadas en el marco de los proyectos de investigación desarrollados por el Departamento de Prehistoria y Arqueología de la Universidad de Granada, mostrándose nuevos datos procedentes de nuestros archivos recientemente digitalizados y que permiten observar de una manera más detallada la fábrica de algunas de ellas, lo que demuestra los cambios de hábitos constructivos y su adaptación a los cambios culturales. Palabras Clave: Estructuras defensivas, Edad del Cobre, Edad del Bronce, Bronce FinalTopónimos: Península IbéricaPeriodo: Edad del Cobre, Edad del Bronce ABSTRACTThe use of walls from the earliest moments of sedentarisation has sought to enclose settlements and, although the goal of these constructions has generally been the protection of their inhabitants, they may have played an important role in aspects such as the demonstration of strength or political and legal independence, and even as ornamentation. This paper presents a diachronic view of stone wall structures, with particular focus on those studied within the framework of the research projects carried out by the Department of Prehistory and Archaeology of the University of Granada. New data from our recently digitalised archives are included, enabling us to observe in greater detail the construction of some of these structures, evidencing changes in building habits and their adaptation to cultural changes. 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Abstract This article explores the significance to the Irish land question of a controversial issue in late nineteenth-century international political economy – bimetallism. Bimetallists advocated a monetary system that used gold and silver to define currency value rather than gold alone. Archbishop William Walsh's support for bimetallism is analysed to highlight how Ireland provided a case-study that framed this debate. Walsh believed the gold standard deepened an agrarian crisis that drove the Irish land question. He argued that careful and internationally orchestrated reform of the monetary system offered the means for its resolution. Walsh's bimetallist views marked him out as an original thinker within Irish nationalism, and his views were debated and adopted by monetary reformers across Britain, Europe, and the United States where they featured during the 1896 Presidential Election. Walsh's engagement in monetary politics must also be understood within a tradition of Catholic social teaching in which he positioned himself as a critic of financial capitalism. This article contextualizes the Irish land question within wider debates on the role of silver in the global economy and argues that Walsh's monetary thought reveals him to be a more significant international intellectual than his involvement in Irish politics tends to allow.

The article focuses on the revolutionary period of 1821 and examines how the bloody uprising of the Greeks against the Ottomans, in conjunction with the international environment, transformed the notion of the nation. Before the revolution, the term “nation” had mostly cultural connotations and, from a political point of view, was a neutral category within an imperial framework, without claims to be the primary and the dominant element of political identity. The revolutionary period transformed the perception of the nation into an active political and social force and into the most important actor/subject of the historical and political processes.

This special issue is the outcome of a renewed interest in the study of 1821 and has its own history. It is the result of a series of workshops co-organised by New York University under the auspices of the Jordan Center for Advanced Study of Russia (New York) and the Research Centre for the Humanities (Athens). These workshops brought together historians and social scientists from different universities, and different national and academic environments, to discuss how the history of 1821 could be reconceptualised. 1821 was and still is, par excellence, an example of the political uses and abuses of history. So we seek to understand the revolution in terms of its own present. We titled these workshops as “1821: What Made it Greek and Revolutionary” because we aimed to view the events as if visiting them for the first time and reconsider them beyond the teleology which so much characterises any kind of revolutionary narrative.

Abstract In the nineteenth century, Qajar Iran was beset by both internal and external threats to its cohesion. In considering Qajar responses to this condition of threat, scholars have largely emphasized the rise of nationalism and a traumatic encounter with Europe. In this article, instead, I use the two Khuzestan travel narratives of royal engineer Najm al-Molk to draw out an alternative thread of reform discourse based on comparisons and connections with the Ottoman Empire. In his safarnamehs, Najm al-Molk joined the style and preoccupations of modern engineering to existing Persianate discourses on rule to elaborate the concept of abadi, a social, political, and material condition encompassing land, people, and state. His advocacy for making Khuzestan abadan was aimed at integrating the region more fully into the Qajar domains. In thinking about what constituted abadi and why it was missing in Khuzestan, the engineer’s major reference point was Ottoman Basra. Traveling around the Basra-Khuzestan borderlands helped Najm al-Molk frame the Ottoman Empire as an example for the Qajar future and a factor in producing the Qajar present. The article both analyzes and follows Najm al-Molk’s use of comparison in order to draw out a broader imperial comparison between late imperial rule in the Ottoman and Qajar lands. I argue that taking seriously Najm al-Molk’s view that the Qajars and Ottomans were comparable can help us use their peripheries to understand late Qajar history outside the national frame of “Iran.”

El objetivo de esta investigación es realizar un estudio de las bases políticas y sociales que definen los primeros años de la Restauración en el Lugo decimonónico. En general, los orígenes de la Restauración se han analizado desde una perspectiva centralista que privilegiaba el papel de los políticos actuantes en el centro madrileño. En este artículo, por el contrario, se adopta una visión periférica que concede el protagonismo a los actores locales y provinciales. El estudio del activo papel de los alfonsistas lucences, de la peculiar traducción provincial de las disposiciones renovadores de diputaciones, ayuntamientos y empleados públicos, del papel del gobernador civil siempre muy condicionado por los políticos de la provincia o de los sólidos espacios de poder que se estructuran alrededor de estos poderosos provinciales, define un escenario de cambio muy complejo que en absoluto puede explicarse recurriendo únicamente al análisis de las ordenanzas gubernamentales y al conocimiento del activismo de los políticos capitalinos.The aim of thls investigation is to carry out a study of the social and political basis which define the first years of the Restoration in Lugo in the 19th century. Generally, the origins of the Restoration have been analized from a centralist idea which favoured the role of the politicians settied in the centre of Madrid. On the contrary, in thls article, local and provincial actors are treated as the protagonist from a peripheral point of view. The study of the active parí of the «alfonsistas» of Lugo, the study of the special provincial translation of the renewed ideas of the deputations, counciis and public empioyers, the study of the civil gobernar always condicionated by the provincial politicians and the study of the power arranged around these powerful people, define a very changeable complex stage which can't only be explained from the governmental point of view or from the activist knowledge of the politicians of the capital.

Introduction In October 2007, the federal Coalition government legislated that all eligible migrants and refugees who want to become Australian citizens must sit and pass the newly designed Australian citizenship test. Prime Minister John Howard stated that by studying the essential knowledge on Australian culture, history and values that his government had defined in official citizenship test resources, migrants seeking the conferral of Australian citizenship would become "integrated" into the broader, "mainstream" community and attain a sense of belonging as new Australian citizens (qtd. in "Howard Defends Citizenship Test"). In this paper, I conduct a genealogical analysis of Becoming an Australian Citizen, the resource booklet that contains all of the information needed to prepare for the test. Focusing specifically on the section in the booklet entitled A Story of Australia which details Australian history and framing my research through a Foucauldian perspective on governmentality that focuses on the interrelationship with truth, power and knowledge in the production of subjectivities, I suggest that the inclusion of the subject of history in the test was constituted as a new order of knowledge that aimed to shape new citizens' understanding of what constituted the "correct" version of Australian identity. History was hence promoted as a form of knowledge that relied on objectivity in order to excavate the truths of Australia's past. These truths, it was claimed, had shaped the very values that the Australian people lived by and that now prospective citizens were expected to embrace. My objective is to problematise this claim that the discipline of history consists of objective truths and to move beyond recent debates in politics and historiography known as the history wars. I suggest that history instead should be viewed as a "curative science" (Foucault 90), that is, a transformative form of knowledge that focuses on the discontinuities as well as the continuities in Australia's past and which has the potential to "delimit truths" (Weeks) and thus heal the fatal impact of an official history dominated by notions of progress and achievements. This kind of cultural research not only has the capacity to influence policy-making in the field of civic education for migrant citizens, but it also has the potential to broaden understanding of Australia's past by drawing on alternative stories of Australia including the ruptures and counter stories that come together to form the multiplicity that is Australian identity. Values Eclipsing History The test was introduced at a time when the impact of globalisation was shifting conceptions of the conferral of citizenship in many Western nations from a notion of new citizens gaining legal and political rights to a concept through which becoming a naturalized citizen meant adopting a nation's particular way of life and embracing a set of core national values (Allison; Grattan; Johnson). In Australia, these values were defined as a set of principles based around liberal-democratic notions of freedom, equality, the rule of law and tolerance and promoted as "central to Australia remaining a stable, prosperous and peaceful community" (DIC 5). The Howard government believed that social cohesion was threatened by the differences emanating from recent arrivals, particularly non-Christian and non-white arrivals who did not share Australian values. These threats were contextualized through such incidents as asylum seekers allegedly throwing children overboard, the Cronulla Beach riots in 2005 and terrorist attacks close to home in Bali. Adopting Australian values was promoted as the solution to this crisis of difference. In this way, the Australian values promoted through the Australian citizenship test were allotted "a reforming role" whilst migrants and their differences were targeted as "objects of reform" (Bennett 105). Reform would be achieved by prospective citizens engaging freely in the ethical conduct of self-study of the history and values contained in the citizenship resource booklet. With some notable exceptions (see e.g. Lake and Tavan), inclusion of historical content in the test received less public scrutiny than Australian values. This is despite the fact that 37 per cent of the booklet's content was dedicated to Australian history compared to only 7 per cent dedicated to Australian values. This is also remarkable since previously, media and scholarly attention over the preceding two decades had agonised over how British colonisation and indigenous dispossession were to be represented in Australian public institutions. Popularly known as the history wars, these debates now seemed irrelevant for regulating the conduct of new citizens. The Year of the Apology: The End of the History Wars? There was also a burgeoning feeling among the broader community that a truce was in sight in the history wars (cf. Riley; Throsby). This view was supported by the outcome of the November 2007 federal election when the Howard government was defeated after eleven years in office. John Howard had been a key player in the history wars, intervening in decisions as wide ranging as the management of national museums and the preparation of high school history curricula. In his final year as prime minister, Howard became involved with overseeing what historical content was to be included in Becoming an Australian Citizen (cf. Andrews; Hirst). This had a lasting impact as even after Howard's electoral defeat, the Australian citizenship test and its accompanying resource booklet still remained in use for another two years as the essential guide that was to inform test candidates on how to be model Australian citizens. Whilst Howard's test was retained Kevin Rudd made the official Apology to the Stolen Generation as one of his first acts as prime minister in February 2008. His electoral victory was heralded as the coming of "a new intellectual culture" with "deep thinking and balanced analysis" (Nile). The Apology was also celebrated in both media and academic circles as the beginning of the process of reconciliation for both relations with indigenous and non-indigenous Australians as well as "reconciling" the controversies in history that had plagued Howard's prime ministership. In popular culture, too, the end of the history wars seemed imminent. In film, the Apology was celebrated with the release of Australia in November of that same year. Luhrmann's film became a box office hit that was later taken up by Tourism Australia to promote the nation as a desirable destination for international tourists. Langton praised it as an "eccentrically postmodern account of a recent frontier" that "has leaped over the ruins of the 'history wars' and given Australians a new past" and concluded that the film presented "an alternative history from the one John Howard and his followers constructed" (12). Similar appraisals had been made of the Australian citizenship test as the author of the historical content in the resource booklet, John Hirst, revealed that the final version of A Story of Australia "was not John Howard's and was organised contrary to his declared preference for narrative" (35). Hirst is a conservative historian who was employed by the Howard government to write "the official history of Australia" (28) for migrants and who had previously worked on other projects initiated by the Howard government, including the high school history curriculum review known as the History Summit in 2006. In an article entitled Australia: The Official History and published in The Monthly of that very same year as the Apology, Hirst divulged how in writing A Story of Australia for the citizenship resource booklet, his aim was to be "fair-minded and balanced" (31). He claimed to do this by detailing what he understood as the "two sides" in Australia's historical and political controversies relating to "Aboriginal affairs" (31), known more commonly as the history wars. Hirst's resolve was to "report the position of the two sides" (31), choosing to briefly focus on the views of historian Henry Reynolds and the political scientist Robert Manne on the one side, as well as presenting the conservative views of journalists Keith Windshuttle and Andrew Bolt on the other side (31-32). Hirst was undoubtedly referring to the two sides in the history wars that are characterised by on the one hand, commentators who believe that the brutal impact of British colonisation on indigenous peoples should be acknowledged whilst those on the other who believe that Australians should focus on celebrating their nation's relatively "peaceful past". Popularly characterised as the black armband view against the white blindfold view of Australian history, this definition does not capture the complexities, ruptures and messiness of Australia's contested past or of the debates that surround it. Hirst's categorisation, is rather problematic; while Windshuttle and Bolt's association is somewhat understandable considering their shared support in denying the existence of the Stolen Generation and massacres of indigenous communities, the association of Reynolds with Manne is certainly contestable and can be viewed as a simplistic grouping together of the "bleeding hearts" in discourses surrounding Australian history. As with the film Australia, Hirst wanted to be "the recorder of myth and memory and not simply the critical historian" (32). Unlike the film Australia, Hirst remained committed to a particular view of the discipline of history that was committed to notions of objectivity and authenticity, stating that he "was not writing this history to embody (his) own views" (31) but rather, his purpose was to introduce to new citizens what he thought captured "what Australians of today knew and valued and celebrated in their history" (32). The textual analysis that follows will illustrate that despite the declaration of a "balanced" view of Australian history being produced for migrant consumption and the call for a truce in the history wars, A Story of Australia still reflected the values and principles of a celebratory white narrative that was not concerned with recognising any side of history that dealt with the fatal impact of colonialism in stories of Australia. Disrupting the Two Sides of History The success of Australia was built on lands taken from Aboriginal people after European settlement in 1788 (DIC 32). [...]The Aboriginal people were not without friends […]. Governor Macquarie (1810-1821) took a special interest in them, running a school for their children and offering them land for farming. But very few Aboriginal people were willing to move into European society; they were not very interested in what the Europeans had to offer. (DIC 32) Despite its author's protestations against a narrative format, A Story of Australia is written as a thematic narrative that is mainly concerned with describing a nation's trajectory towards progress. It includes the usual primary school project heroes of European explorers and settlers, all of them men: Captain James Cook, Arthur Phillip and Lachlan Macquarie (17-18). It privileges a British heritage and ignores the multicultural make-up of the Australian population. In this Australian story, the convict settlers are an important factor in nation building as they found "new opportunities in this strange colony" (18) and "the ordinary soldier, the digger is a national hero" (21). Indigenous peoples, on the other hand, are described in the past tense as part of pre-history having "hunter-gatherer traditions" (32), whose culture exists today only in spectacle and who have only themselves to blame for their marginalisation by refusing the help of the white settlers. Most notable in this particular version of history are the absent stories and absent characters; there is little mention of the achievements of women and nation-building is presented as an exclusively masculine enterprise. There is also scarce mention of the contribution of migrants. Also absent is any mention of the colonisation of the Australian continent that dispossessed its Indigenous peoples. For instance, the implementation of the assimilation policy that required the forcible removal of Aboriginal children from their families is not even named as the Stolen Generation in the resource booklet, and the fight for native land rights encapsulated in the historic Mabo decision of 1992 is referred to as merely a "separatist policy" (33). In this way, it cannot be claimed that this is a balanced portrayal of Australia's past even by Hirst's own standards for it is difficult to locate the side represented by Reynolds and Manne. Once again, comparisons with the film Australia are useful. Although praised for raising "many thorny issues" relating to "national legitimacy and Aboriginal sovereignty" (Konishi and Nugent), Ashenden concludes that the film is "a mix of muttering, avoidance of touchy topics, and sporadic outbursts". Hogan also argues that the film Australia is "an exercise in national wish fulfillment, staged as a high budget, unabashedly commercial and sporadically ironic spectacle" that "offers symbolic absolution for the violence of colonialism" (63). Additionally, Hirst's description of a "successful" nation being built on the "uncultivated" indigenous lands suggests that colonisation was necessary and unavoidable if Australia was to progress into a civilised nation. Both Hirst's A Story of Australia and his Australia: The Official History share more than just the audacious appropriation of a proper noun with the film Australia as these cultural texts grant prominence to the values and principles of a celebratory white narrative of Australian history while playing down the unpalatable episodes, making any prospective citizen who does not accept these "balanced" versions of historical truths as deviant and unworthy of becoming an Australian citizen. Our Australian Story: Reconciling the Fatal Impact The Australian citizenship test and its accompanying booklet, Becoming an Australian Citizen were replaced in October 2009 with a revised test and a new booklet entitled, Australian Citizenship: Our Common Bond. The Australian Citizenship Test Review Committee deemed the 2007 original test to be "flawed, intimidating to some and discriminatory" (Australian Citizenship Test Review Committee 3). It replaced mandatory knowledge of Australian values with that of the Citizenship Pledge and determined that the subject of Australian history, although "nice-to-know" was not essential for assessing the suitability of the conferral of Australian citizenship. History content is now included in the new booklet in the non-testable section under the more inclusive title of Our Australian Story. This particular version of history now names the Stolen Generation, includes references to Australia's multicultural make up and even recognises some of the fatal effects of British colonisation. The Apology features prominently over three long paragraphs (71) and Indigenous dispossession is now described under the title of Fatal Impact as follows: The early governors were told not to harm the Aboriginal people, but the British settlers moved onto Aboriginal land and many Aboriginal people were killed. Settlers were usually not punished for committing these crimes. (58) So does this change in tone in the official history in the resource booklet for prospective citizens "prove" that the history wars are over? This more conciliatory version of Australia's past is still not the "real proof" that the history wars are over for despite broadening its categories of what constitutes as historical truth, these truths still privilege an exclusive white perspective. For example, in the new resource booklet, detail on the Stolen Generation is included as a relevant historical event in relation to what the office of Prime Minister, the Bringing Them Home Report and the Official Apology have achieved for Indigenous Australians and for the national identity, stating that "the Sorry speech was an important step forward for all Australians" (71). Perhaps then, we need to discard this way of thinking that frames the past as an ethical struggle between right and wrong and a moral battle between victors and losers. If we cease thinking of our nation's history as a battleground between celebrators and mourners and stop framing our national identity in terms of achievers and those who were not interested in building the nation, then we recognise that these "war" discourses are only the products of "games of truth" invented by governments, expert historians and their institutions. In this way, official texts can produce the possibility for a range of players from new directions to participate in what content can be included as historical truths in Australian stories and what is possible in productions of official Australian identities. The Australian Citizenship Review Committee understood this potential impact as it has recommended "the government commit to reviewing the content of the book at regular intervals given the evolving nature of Australian society" (Australian Citizenship Test Review Committee 25). In disrupting the self-evident notion of a balanced history of facts with its evocation of an equal society and by exposing how governmental institutions have used these texts as instruments of social governance (cf. Bennett), we can come to understand that there are other ways of being Australian and alternative perspectives on Australian history. The production of official histories can work towards producing a "curative science" that heals the fatal impact of the past. The impact of this kind of cultural research should be directed towards the discourse of history wars. In this way, history becomes not a battlefield but "a differential knowledge of energies and failings, heights and degenerations, poisons and antidotes" (Foucault 90) which has the capacity to transform Australian society into a society inclusive of all indigenous, non-indigenous and migrant citizens and which can work towards reconciliation of the nation's history, and perhaps, even of its people. References Allison, Lyn. "Citizenship Test Is the New Aussie Cringe." The Drum. ABC News. 4 Dec. 2011 ‹http://www.abc.net.au/news/2007-09-28/citizenship-test-is-the-new-aussie-cringe/683634›. Andrews, Kevin. "Citizenship Test Resource Released." MediaNet Press Release Wire 26 Aug. 2007: 1. Ashenden, Dean. "Luhrmann, Us, and Them." Inside Story 18 Dec. 2008. 4 Dec. 2011 ‹http://inside.org.au/luhrmann-us-and-them/›. Australian Citizenship Test Review Committee. Moving Forward... Improving Pathways to Citizenship. Canberra: Commonwealth of Australia, 2008. Australian Government. Australian Citizenship: Our Common Bond. Belconnen: National Communications Branch of the Department of Immigration and Citizenship, 2009.Bennett, Tony. Culture: A Reformer's Science. St Leonards: Allen and Unwin, 1998. DIC (Department of Immigration and Citizenship). Becoming an Australian Citizen: Citizenship. Your Commitment to Australia. Canberra, 2007.Foucault, Michel. "Nietzsche, Genealogy, History." The Foucault Reader. New York: Pantheon Books, 1984. 76-100. Grattan, Michelle. "Accept Australian Values or Get Out." The Age 25 Aug. 2005: 1. Hirst, John. "Australia: The Official History." The Monthly 6 Feb. 2008: 28-35. "Howard Defends Citizenship Test." The Age 11 Dec. 2006. Howard, John. "A Sense of Balance: The Australian Achievement in 2006 - Address to the National Press Club, 25 January." PM's News Room: Speeches. Canberra: Department of Prime Minister and Cabinet. Johnson, Carol. "John Howard's 'Values' and Australian Identity." Australian Journal of Political Science 42.2 (2007): 195-209. Konishi, Shino, and Maria Nugent. "Reviewing Indigenous History in Baz Luhrmann's Australia." Inside Story 4 Dec. 2009. 4 Dec. 2011 ‹http://inside.org.au/reviewing-indigenous-history-in-baz-luhrmanns-australia/›. Lake, Marilyn. "Wasn't This a Government Obsessed with Historical 'Truth'?" The Age 29 Oct. 2007: 13. Langton, Marcia. "Faraway Downs Fantasy Resonates Close to Home." Sunday Age 23 November 2008: 12. Nile, Richard. "End of the Culture Wars." Richard Nile Blog. The Australian 28 Nov. 2007. Riley, Mark. "Sorry, But the PM Says the Culture Wars Are Over." Sydney Morning Herald 10 Sep. 2003: 1. Tavan, Gwenda. "Testing Times: The Problem of 'History' in the Howard Government's Australian Citizenship Test." Does History Matter? Making and Debating Citizenship, Immigration and Refugee Policy in Australia and New Zealand. Eds. Neumann, Klaus and Gwenda Tavan. Canberra: ANU E P, 2009. Throsby, David. "A Truce in the Culture Wars." Sydney Morning Herald 26 Apr. 2008: 32. Weeks, Jeffrey. "Foucault for Historians." History Workshop 14 (Autumn 1982): 106-19.

1909–22: Turkey exterminated over 1.5 million of its ethnically Armenian, and hundreds of thousands of its ethnically Greek and Assyrian, citizens. Most died in 1915. This period of decimation in now widely called the Armenian Genocide (Balakian 179-80).1910: Siamanto first published his poem, The Dance: “The corpses were piled as trees, / and from the springs, from the streams and the road, / the blood was a stubborn murmur.” When springs run red, when the dead are stacked tree-high, when “everything that could happen has already happened,” then time is nothing: “there is no future [and] the language of civilised humanity is not our language” (Nichanian 142).2007: In my novel The Edge of the World a ceramic bowl, luminous blue, recurs as motif. Imagine you are tiny: the bowl is broken but you don’t remember breaking it. You’re awash with tears. You sit on the floor, gather shards but, no matter how you try, you can’t fix it. Imagine, now, that the bowl is the sky, huge and upturned above your head. You have always known, through every wash of your blood, that life is shockingly precarious. Silence—between heartbeats, between the words your parents speak—tells you: something inside you is terribly wrong; home is not home but there is no other home; you “can never be fully grounded in a community which does not share or empathise with the experience of persecution” (Wajnryb 130). This is the stubborn murmur of your body.Because time is nothing, this essay is fragmented, non-linear. Its main characters: my mother, grandmother (Hovsanna), grandfather (Benyamin), some of my mother’s older siblings (Krikor, Maree, Hovsep, Arusiak), and Mustafa Kemal Ataturk (Ottoman military officer, Young Turk leader, first president of Turkey). 1915–2013: Turkey invests much energy in genocide denial, minimisation and deflection of responsibility. 24 April 2012: Barack Obama refers to the Medz Yeghern (Great Calamity). The use of this term is decried as appeasement, privileging political alliance with Turkey over human rights. 2003: Between Genocide and Catastrophe, letters between Armenian-American theorist David Kazanjian and Armenian-French theorist Marc Nichanian, contest the naming of the “event” (126). Nichanian says those who call it the Genocide are:repeating every day, everywhere, in all places, the original denial of the Catastrophe. But this is part of the catastrophic structure of the survivor. By using the word “Genocide”, we survivors are only repeating […] the denial of the loss. We probably cannot help it. We are doing what the executioner wanted us to do […] we claim all over the world that we have been “genocided;” we relentlessly need to prove our own death. We are still in the claws of the executioner. We still belong to the logic of the executioner. (127)1992: In Revolution and Genocide, historian Robert Melson identifies the Armenian Genocide as “total” because it was public policy intended to exterminate a large fraction of Armenian society, “including the families of its members, and the destruction of its social and cultural identity in most or all aspects” (26).1986: Boyajian and Grigorian assert that the Genocide “is still operative” because, without full acknowledgement, “the ghosts won’t go away” (qtd. in Hovannisian 183). They rise up from earth, silence, water, dreams: Armenian literature, Armenian homes haunted by them. 2013: My heart pounds: Medz Yeghern, Aksor (Exile), Anashmaneli (Indefinable), Darakrutiun (Deportation), Chart (Massacre), Brnagaght (Forced migration), Aghed (Catastrophe), Genocide. I am awash. Time is nothing.1909–15: Mustafa Kemal Ataturk was both a serving Ottoman officer and a leader of the revolutionary Young Turks. He led Ottoman troops in the repulsion of the Allied invasion before dawn on 25 April at Gallipoli and other sites. Many troops died in a series of battles that eventually saw the Ottomans triumph. Out of this was born one of Australia’s founding myths: Australian and New Zealand Army Corps (ANZACs), courageous in the face of certain defeat. They are commemorated yearly on 25 April, ANZAC Day. To question this myth is to risk being labelled traitor.1919–23: Ataturk began a nationalist revolution against the occupying Allies, the nascent neighbouring Republic of Armenia, and others. The Allies withdrew two years later. Ataturk was installed as unofficial leader, becoming President in 1923. 1920–1922: The last waves of the Genocide. 2007: Robert Manne published A Turkish Tale: Gallipoli and the Armenian Genocide, calling for a recontextualisation of the cultural view of the Gallipoli landings in light of the concurrence of the Armenian Genocide, which had taken place just over the rise, had been witnessed by many military personnel and widely reported by international media at the time. Armenian networks across Australia were abuzz. There were media discussions. I listened, stared out of my office window at the horizon, imagined Armenian communities in Sydney and Melbourne. Did they feel like me—like they were holding their breath?Then it all went quiet. Manne wrote: “It is a wonderful thing when, at the end of warfare, hatred dies. But I struggle to understand why Gallipoli and the Armenian Genocide continue to exist for Australians in parallel moral universes.” 1992: I bought an old house to make a home for me and my two small children. The rooms were large, the ceilings high, and behind it was a jacaranda with a sturdy tree house built high up in its fork. One of my mother’s Armenian friends kindly offered to help with repairs. He and my mother would spend Saturdays with us, working, looking after the kids. Mum would stay the night; her friend would go home. But one night he took a sleeping bag up the ladder to the tree house, saying it reminded him of growing up in Lebanon. The following morning he was subdued; I suspect there were not as many mosquitoes in Lebanon as we had in our garden. But at dinner the previous night he had been in high spirits. The conversation had turned, as always, to politics. He and my mother had argued about Turkey and Russia, Britain’s role in the development of the Middle East conflict, the USA’s roughshod foreign policy and its effect on the world—and, of course, the Armenian Genocide, and the killingof Turkish governmental representatives by Armenians, in Australia and across the world, during the 1980s. He had intimated he knew the attackers and had materially supported them. But surely it was the beer talking. Later, when I asked my mother, she looked at me with round eyes and shrugged, uncharacteristically silent. 2002: Greek-American diva Diamanda Galas performed Dexifiones: Will and Testament at the Perth Concert Hall, her operatic work for “the forgotten victims of the Armenian and Anatolian Greek Genocide” (Galas).Her voice is so powerful it alters me.1925: My grandmother, Hovsanna, and my grandfather, Benyamin, had twice been separated in the Genocide (1915 and 1922) and twice reunited. But in early 1925, she had buried him, once a prosperous businessman, in a swamp. Armenians were not permitted burial in cemeteries. Once they had lived together in a big house with their dozen children; now there were only three with her. Maree, half-mad and 18 years old, and quiet Hovsep, aged seven,walked. Then five-year-old aunt, Arusiak—small, hungry, tired—had been carried by Hovsanna for months. They were walking from Cilicia to Jerusalem and its Armenian Quarter. Someone had said they had seen Krikor, her eldest son, there. Hovsanna was pregnant for the last time. Together the four reached Aleppo in Syria, found a Christian orphanage for girls, and Hovsanna, her pregnancy near its end, could carry Arusiak no further. She left her, promising to return. Hovsanna’s pains began in Beirut’s busy streets. She found privacy in the only place she could, under a house, crawled in. Whenever my mother spoke of her birth she described it like this: I was born under a stranger’s house like a dog.1975: My friend and I travelled to Albany by bus. After six hours we were looking down York Street, between Mount Clarence and Mount Melville, and beyond to Princess Royal Harbour, sapphire blue, and against which the town’s prosperous life—its shopfronts, hotels, cars, tourists, historic buildings—played out. It took away my breath: the deep harbour, whaling history, fishing boats. Rain and sun and scudding cloud; cliffs and swells; rocky points and the white curves of bays. It was from Albany that young Western Australian men, volunteers for World War I, embarked on ships for the Middle East, Gallipoli, sailing out of Princess Royal Harbour.1985: The Australian Government announced that Turkey had agreed to have the site of the 1915 Gallipoli landings renamed Anzac Cove. Commentators and politicians acknowledged it as historic praised Turkey for her generosity, expressed satisfaction that, 70 years on, former foes were able to embrace the shared human experience of war. We were justifiably proud of ourselves.2005: Turkey made her own requests. The entrance to Albany’s Princess Royal Harbour was renamed Ataturk Channel. A large bronze statue of Ataturk was erected on the headland overlooking the Harbour entrance. 24 April 1915: In the town of Hasan Beyli, in Cilicia, southwest Turkey, my great grandfather, a successful and respected businessman in his 50s, was asleep in his bed beside his wife. He had been born in that house, as had his father, grandfather, and all his children. His brother, my great uncle, had bought the house next door as a young man, brought his bride home to it, lived there ever since; between the two households there had been one child after another. All the cousins grew up together. My great grandfather and great uncle had gone to work that morning, despite their wives’ concerns, but had returned home early. The women had been relieved to see them. They made coffee, talked. Everyone had heard the rumours. Enemy ships were massing off the coast. 1978: The second time in Albany was my honeymoon. We had driven into the Goldfields then headed south. Such distance, such beautiful strangeness: red earth, red rocks; scant forests of low trees, thin arms outstretched; the dry, pale, flat land of Norseman. Shimmering heat. Then the big, wild coast.On our second morning—a cool, overcast day—we took our handline to a jetty. The ocean was mercury; a line of cormorants settled and bobbed. Suddenly fish bit; we reeled them in. I leaned over the jetty’s side, looked down into the deep. The water was clear and undisturbed save the twirling of a pike that looked like it had reversed gravity and was shooting straight up to me. Its scales flashed silver as itbroke the surface.1982: How could I concentrate on splicing a film with this story in my head? Besides the desk, the only other furniture in the editing suite was a whiteboard. I took a marker and divided the board into three columns for the three generations: my grandparents, Hovsanna and Benyamin; my mother; someone like me. There was a lot in the first column, some in the second, nothing in the third. I stared at the blankness of my then-young life.A teacher came in to check my editing. I tried to explain what I had been doing. “I think,” he said, stony-faced, “that should be your third film, not your first.”When he had gone I stared at the reels of film, the white board blankness, the wall. It took 25 years to find the form, the words to say it: a novel not a film, prose not pictures.2007: Ten minutes before the launch of The Edge of the World, the venue was empty. I made myself busy, told myself: what do you expect? Your research has shown, over and over, this is a story about which few know or very much care, an inconvenient, unfashionable story; it is perfectly in keeping that no-one will come. When I stepped onto the rostrum to speak, there were so many people that they crowded the doorway, spilled onto the pavement. “I want to thank my mother,” I said, “who, pretending to do her homework, listened instead to the story her mother told other Armenian survivor-women, kept that story for 50 years, and then passed it on to me.” 2013: There is a section of The Edge of the World I needed to find because it had really happened and, when it happened, I knew, there in my living room, that Boyajian and Grigorian (183) were right about the Armenian Genocide being “still operative.” But I knew even more than that: I knew that the Diaspora triggered by genocide is both rescue and weapon, the new life in this host nation both sanctuary and betrayal. I picked up a copy, paced, flicked, followed my nose, found it:On 25 April, the day after Genocide memorial-day, I am watching television. The Prime Minister stands at the ANZAC memorial in western Turkey and delivers a poetic and moving speech. My eyes fill with tears, and I moan a little and cover them. In his speech he talks about the heroism of the Turkish soldiers in their defence of their homeland, about the extent of their losses – sixty thousand men. I glance at my son. He raises his eyebrows at me. I lose count of how many times Kemal Ataturk is mentioned as the Father of Modern Turkey. I think of my grandmother and grandfather, and all my baby aunts and uncles […] I curl over like a mollusc; the ache in my chest draws me in. I feel small and very tired; I feel like I need to wash.Is it true that if we repeat something often enough and loud enough it becomes the truth? The Prime Minister quotes Kemal Ataturk: the ANZACS who died and are buried on that western coast are deemed ‘sons of Turkey’. My son turns my grandfather’s, my mother’s, my eyes to me and says, It is amazing they can be so friendly after we attacked them.I draw up my knees to my chest, lay my head and arms down. My limbs feel weak and useless. My throat hurts. I look at my Australian son with his Armenian face (325-6).24 April 1915 cont: There had been trouble all my great grandfather’s life: pogrom here, massacre there. But this land was accustomed to colonisers: the Mongols, the Persians, latterly the Ottomans. They invade, conquer, rise, fall; Armenians stay. This had been Armenian homeland for thousands of years.No-one masses ships off a coast unless planning an invasion. So be it. These Europeans could not be worse than the Ottomans. That night, were my great grandfather and great uncle awoken by the pounding at each door, or by the horses and gendarmes’ boots? They were seized, each family herded at gunpoint into its garden, and made to watch. Hanging is slow. There could be no mistakes. The gendarmes used the stoutest branches, stayed until they were sure the men weredead. This happened to hundreds of prominent Armenian men all over Turkey that night.Before dawn, the Allies made landfall.Each year those lost in the Genocide are remembered on 24 April, the day before ANZAC Day.1969: I asked my mother if she had any brothers and sisters. She froze, her hands in the sink. I stared at her, then slipped from the room.1915: The Ottoman government decreed: all Armenians were to surrender their documents and report to authorities. Able-bodied men were taken away, my grandfather among them. Women and children, the elderly and disabled, were told to prepare to walk to a safe camp where they would stay for the duration of the war. They would be accompanied by armed soldiers for their protection. They were permitted to take with them what they could carry (Bryce 1916).It began immediately, pretty young women and children first. There are so many ways to kill. Months later, a few dazed, starved survivors stumbled into the Syrian desert, were driven into lakes, or herded into churches and set alight.Most husbands and fathers were never seen again. 2003: I arrived early at my son’s school, parked in the shade, opened The Silence: How Tragedy Shapes Talk, and began to read. Soon I was annotating furiously. Ruth Wajnryb writes of “growing up among innocent peers in an innocent landscape” and also that the notion of “freedom of speech” in Australia “seems often, to derive from that innocent landscape where reside people who have no personal scars or who have little relevant historical knowledge” (141).1984: I travelled to Vancouver, Canada, and knocked on Arusiak’s door. Afraid she would not agree to meet me, I hadn’t told her I was coming. She was welcoming and gracious. This was my first experience of extended family and I felt loved in a new and important way, a way I had read about, had observed in my friends, had longed for. One afternoon she said, “You know our mother left me in an orphanage…When I saw her again, it was too late. I didn’t know who they were, what a family was. I felt nothing.” “Yes, I know,” I replied, my heart full and hurting. The next morning, over breakfast, she quietly asked me to leave. 1926: When my mother was a baby, her 18 year-old sister, Maree, tried to drown her in the sea. My mother clearly recalled Maree’s face had been disfigured by a sword. Hovsanna, would ask my mother to forgive Maree’s constant abuse and bad behaviour, saying, “She is only half a person.”1930: Someone gave Hovsanna the money to travel to Aleppo and reclaim Arusiak, by then 10 years old. My mother was intrigued by the appearance of this sister but Arusiak was watchful and withdrawn. When she finally did speak to my then five-year-old mother, she hissed: “Why did she leave me behind and keep you?”Soon after Arusiak appeared, Maree, “only half a person,” disappeared. My mother was happy about that.1935: At 15, Arusiak found a live-in job and left. My mother was 10 years old; her brother Hovsep, who cared for her before and after school every day while their mother worked, and always had, was seventeen. She adored him. He had just finished high school and was going to study medicine. One day he fell ill. He died within a week.1980: My mother told me she never saw her mother laugh or, once Hovsep died, in anything other than black. Two or three times before Hovsep died, she saw her smile a little, and twice she heard her singing when she thought she was alone: “A very sad song,” my mother would say, “that made me cry.”1942: At seventeen, my mother had been working as a live-in nanny for three years. Every week on her only half-day off she had caught the bus home. But now Hovsanna was in hospital, so my mother had been visiting her there. One day her employer told her she must go to the hospital immediately. She ran. Hovsanna was lying alone and very still. Something wasn’t right. My mother searched the hospital corridors but found no-one. She picked up a phone. When someone answered she told them to send help. Then she ran all the way home, grabbed Arusiak’s photograph and ran all the way back. She laid it on her mother’s chest, said, “It’s all right, Mama, Arusiak’s here.”1976: My mother said she didn’t like my boyfriend; I was not to go out with him. She said she never disobeyed her own mother because she really loved her mother. I went out with my boyfriend. When I came home, my belongings were on the front porch. The door was bolted. I was seventeen.2003: I read Wajnryb who identifies violent eruptions of anger and frozen silences as some of the behaviours consistent in families with a genocidal history (126). 1970: My father had been dead over a year. My brothers and I were, all under 12, made too much noise. My mother picked up the phone: she can’t stand us, she screamed; she will call an orphanage to take us away. We begged.I fled to my room. I couldn’t sit down. I couldn’t keep still. I paced, pressed my face into a corner; shook and cried, knowing (because she had always told us so) that she didn’t make idle threats, knowing that this was what I had sometimes glimpsed on her face when she looked at us.2012: The Internet reveals images of Ataturk’s bronze statue overlooking Princess Royal Harbour. Of course, it’s outsized, imposing. The inscription on its plinth reads: "Peace at Home/ Peace in the World." He wears a suit, looks like a scholar, is moving towards us, a scroll in his hand. The look in his eyes is all intensity. Something distant has arrested him – a receding or re-emerging vision. Perhaps a murmur that builds, subsides, builds again. (Medz Yeghern, Aksor, Aghed, Genocide). And what is written on that scroll?2013: My partner suggested we go to Albany, escape Perth’s brutal summer. I tried to explain why it’s impossible. There is no memorial in Albany, or anywhere else in Western Australia, to the 1.5 million victims of the Armenian Genocide. ReferencesAkcam, Taner. “The Politics of Genocide.” Online Video Clip. YouTube. YouTube, 11 Dec. 2011. 6 Mar. 2013 ‹http://www.youtube.com/watchv=OxAJaaw81eU&noredirect=1genocide›.Balakian, Peter. The Burning Tigress: The Armenian Genocide. London: William Heinemann, 2004.BBC. “Kemal Ataturk (1881–1938).” BBC History. 2013. 6 Mar. 2013 ‹http://www.bbc.co.uk/history/historic_figures/ataturk_kemal.shtml›.Boyajian, Levon, and Haigaz Grigorian. “Psychological Sequelae of the Armenian Genocide.”The Armenian Genocide in Perspective. Ed. Richard Hovannisian. New Brunswick: Transaction, 1987. 177–85.Bryce, Viscount. The Treatment of the Armenians in the Ottoman Empire. London: Hodder and Stoughton, 1916.Galas, Diamanda. Program Notes. Dexifiones: Will and Testament. Perth Concert Hall, Perth, Australia. 2001.———.“Dexifiones: Will and Testament FULL Live Lisboa 2001 Part 1.” Online Video Clip. YouTube, 5 Nov. 2011. Web. 6 Mar. 2013 ‹http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mvVnYbxWArM›.Kazanjian, David, and Marc Nichanian. “Between Genocide and Catastrophe.” Loss. Eds. David Eng and David Kazanjian. Los Angeles: U of California P, 2003. 125–47.Manne, Robert. “A Turkish Tale: Gallipoli and the Armenian Genocide.” The Monthly Feb. 2007. 6 Mar. 2013 ‹http://www.themonthly.com.au/turkish-tale-gallipoli-and-armenian-genocide-robert-manne-459›.Matiossian, Vartan. “When Dictionaries Are Left Unopened: How ‘Medz Yeghern’ Turned into a Terminology of Denial.” The Armenian Weekly 27 Nov. 2012. 6 Mar. 2013 ‹http://www.armenianweekly.com/2012/11/27/when-dictionaries-are-left-unopened-how-medz-yeghern-turned-into-terminology-of-denial/›.Melson, Robert. Revolution and Genocide. Chicago: U of Chicago P, 1996.Nicholson, Brendan. “ASIO Detected Bomb Plot by Armenian Terrorists.” The Australian 2 Jan. 2012. 6 Mar. 2013 ‹http://www.theaustralian.com.au/in-depth/cabinet-papers/asio-detected-bomb-plot-by-armenian-terrorists/story-fnbkqb54-1226234411154›.“President Obama Issues Statement on Armenian Remembrance Day.” The Armenian Weekly 24 Apr. 2012. 5 Mar. 2013 ‹http://www.armenianweekly.com/2012/04/24/president-obama-issues-statement-on-armenian-remembrance-day/›.Polain, Marcella. The Edge of the World. Fremantle: Fremantle Press, 2007.Siamanto. “The Dance.” Trans. Peter Balakian and Nervart Yaghlian. Adonias Dalgas Memorial Page 5 Mar. 2013 ‹http://www.terezakis.com/dalgas.html›.Stockings, Craig. “Let’s Have a Truce in the Battle of the Anzac Myth.” The Australian 25 Apr. 2012. 6 Mar. 2013 ‹http://www.theaustralian.com.au/national-affairs/opinion/lets-have-a-truce-in-the-battle-of-the-anzac-myth/story-e6frgd0x-1226337486382›.Wajnryb, Ruth. The Silence: How Tragedy Shapes Talk. Crows Nest: Allen and Unwin, 2001.