Australia stands at a crossroads where reverence for our shared history is being eroded by the insertion of divisive rituals into moments meant to unite us.
The “Welcome to Country” ceremony, increasingly ubiquitous at public events, has no place in our national fabric, particularly at sacred occasions like today’s ANZAC Day services.
These ceremonies, performed to acknowledge Indigenous custodianship of the land, are not benign gestures of respect but a deliberate reframing of Australia’s identity that undermines our collective unity and dishonours the sacrifices of those who fought for the nation as one.
On April 25, 2025, as Australians gathered at dawn to commemorate the 110th anniversary of the Gallipoli landings, the solemnity of ANZAC Day was disrupted at Melbourne’s Shrine of Remembrance and Perth’s Kings Park by the inclusion of “Welcome to Country” addresses.
These moments, meant to honour the courage and loss of all Australians who served, were instead co-opted by a ritual that implies the land belongs to one group over others, fracturing the very unity ANZAC Day embodies.
The argument against “Welcome to Country” is rooted in its fundamental incompatibility with a cohesive national identity. Australia is a sovereign nation, built on the sacrifices of countless individuals who fought under one flag. ANZAC Day, above all, is a testament to this unity.
It commemorates the 103,000 Australians who died in wars, from Gallipoli to Afghanistan, not as members of disparate cultural groups but as citizens of a single nation. To prepend a ceremony that emphasises one group’s historical claim to the land at such an event is to suggest that those who gave their lives for Australia were mere visitors, their sacrifices somehow secondary to an Indigenous narrative.
This is not inclusion; it is exclusion dressed as goodwill. The heckling by a small group at Melbourne’s dawn service reflects a deeper frustration among Australians who see their sacred traditions being repurposed to serve a political agenda.
The small number of scattered boos directed at Bunurong elder Uncle Mark Brown’s address were not just a reaction to his words but a rejection of the idea that ANZAC Day should be anything other than a moment for all Australians to stand as equals.
“Welcome to Country” ceremonies are often justified as a gesture of respect for Indigenous heritage, but this argument collapses under scrutiny.
Respect does not require the perpetual reassertion of one group’s primacy over the land at every public gathering. Australia’s history is complex, marked by both dispossession and the forging of a modern nation through shared struggle.
To reduce every event to an acknowledgment of Indigenous custodianship is to freeze history in a moment of grievance, ignoring the contributions of all who have built this country. On ANZAC Day, this practice is particularly egregious.
The Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander soldiers who served and died alongside their comrades did so not as custodians of a separate land but as Australians.
To imply otherwise, as “Welcome to Country” does, diminishes their legacy and insults the memory of all who fought. The Returned and Services League (RSL) and veterans’ groups have rightly condemned disruptions, but they must also question why such ceremonies are allowed to dilute the apolitical sanctity of these services in the first place.
The broader issue is the creeping politicisation of public life through these rituals. “Welcome to Country” is not a neutral act; it is a product of contemporary activism, not an ancient tradition. Its rise coincides with efforts to reframe Australia as a collection of “First Nations” rather than a singular nation-state.
This narrative, pushed by academics and bureaucrats, seeks to rewrite history as a story of perpetual occupation rather than a shared journey toward nationhood. At ANZAC Day services, where the focus should be on remembrance and gratitude, injecting this ideology is a betrayal of the event’s purpose.
The Australian War Memorial’s Dawn Service, broadcast nationwide, is not a platform for cultural debates—it is a time to honour the fallen, not to signal virtue or advance a cause. When Noongar elder Di Ryder faced jeers in Perth, it was not because Australians reject reconciliation but because they reject the imposition of a divisive ritual on a day meant to transcend politics.
Critics of this stance will argue that opposing “Welcome to Country” is disrespectful to Indigenous Australians. This is a lazy deflection. Respect is earned through mutual recognition of shared humanity, not through rituals that elevate one group above others. Indigenous Australians are integral to our nation’s story, and their contributions to our military history—from the Boer War to modern conflicts—deserve recognition.
But that recognition should not come at the expense of national unity. ANZAC Day is not a day to parse who owns the land; it is a day to remember those who defended it. The ceremony’s defenders also claim it fosters inclusion, yet the opposite is true. By framing non-Indigenous Australians as guests in their own country, it alienates the majority and sows resentment.
The applause that drowned out hecklers in Melbourne shows that many Australians want unity, but they want it on equal terms, not through a ritual that implies hierarchy.
The solution is simple: end “Welcome to Country” ceremonies at public events, especially at sacred, apolitical occasions like ANZAC Day. If acknowledgment is deemed necessary, a brief, neutral statement recognising all Australians—Indigenous and non-Indigenous—as custodians of our shared future would suffice. But even this risks opening the door to further division.
Better to let ANZAC Day stand as it always has: a moment when we are all Australians, bound by gratitude for those who served and died. Today’s disruptions in Melbourne and Perth are a warning. If we allow our most sacred traditions to be reshaped by ideological agendas, we risk losing the very spirit that makes Australia worth defending. Lest we forget what that spirit truly means.
