Groundhog Day in America is rooted in the folk traditions of the Pennsylvania Dutch, a distinctive immigrant community perhaps best known in this country via Peter Weir’s neo-noir thriller, Witness. According to the Pennsylvania Dutch tradition, if a local ground hog or woodchuck emerges from its burrow on this particular day and sees its shadow, then the sun is shining and that foretells six more weeks of winter. No shadow, then spring is on its way.
Of course, this peculiar system of weather forecasting has now entered the vernacular courtesy of another movie, 1993’s Groundhog Day, where a cynical TV reporter is sent to cover the hokey but good-natured Groundhog Day festivities in Punxsutawney Pennsylvania. Things take a turn for the worse, however, when the reporter realises he is doomed to wake every morning to the musical stylings of Salvatore Bono and Cherilyn Sarkision, only to relive the same day over and over again, seemingly in perpetuity. As a result of the movie’s success, the Cambridge Dictionary now carries a definition of ‘ground hog day’ which includes: “noun. a situation in which events that have happened before happen again, in what seems to be exactly the same way”.
In America, Ground Hog day is February 2nd. In Australia, it is January 26th.
For as sure as the residents of Punxsutawney will rouse their rodent of choice, Punxsutawney Phil, on February 2nd to predict the next six weeks of weather in the US, so every year in Australia January 26th marks the date when the same slightly dozy arguments about when (or even if) we should celebrate Australia Day will be hauled blinking into the glare of the TV cameras and flash photography.
What follows is an intensely frustrating and increasingly ill-tempered back-and-forth over how to balance the desire to mark the establishment of modern Australia, with the need to recognise the original inhabitants of the continent who were not well served by the arrival of the First Fleet.
Then it’s either six more weeks of summer or not, and pack away the ideological oompah bands until the same time next year.
Can a nation of 25 million comprising the oldest and the most recent arrivals on a timeline spanning 60 millenia really be expected to agree on a single date that represents all things to all the people living here? It is a problem amplified and distorted in the echo chambers produced by social media algorithms and the ideological prejudices of partisan broadcasters. And the debate is now so divisive that it risks opening irreparable fissures in a society which has only recently been urged to proclaim “For we are one and free”.
Perhaps the reality is that one day simply cannot accommodate all that needs to be celebrated and recognised in Australia in the 21st century. On the one hand, we should recognise the success of modern Australia, the one established in 1901, and which has its roots most assuredly in the colonisation by the British commencing in 1788. The one which is now proud to be the world’s most multicultural nation, a democratic nation whose population lives in relative freedom under the rule of law, a nation of communal safety and security in an unsafe and insecure world. A nation so successful in fact that although our immigration program delivers around 250,000 new Australians each year, we would have to add ten times that number to meet pent up demand for a spot on this sun-drenched continent.
On the other hand, we have to recognise the history of the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples who pre-date Arthur Phillip’s arrival by some 60,000 years. And what’s more, we need to accommodate the need to reflect on the impact on those peoples of the arrival of the First Fleet, and the millions upon millions who came in its wake.
One country, two histories.
So why not have two national days marked with equal reverence? It’s not unheard of – India celebrates Republic Day on 26 January, and Independence Day on 15 August. Why not retain Australia Day to mark the point of origin of modern Australia, and add another day (First Nations Day perhaps) to celebrate the cultures that were here before 1788, and to acknowledge and address the impact that Phillip’s proclamation in Sydney Cove has had on the first Australians?
Both national days would have equal status, both would be marked with national public holidays, and both would be capable of generating pride and national reflection in equal measure. We could have a First Nations Day honours list, emphasising recognition of those individuals who have worked constructively to bring about national reconciliation, and with celebrations and ceremonies designed by indigenous Australians. And yes, a day for sombre reflection as well.
To make matters easier for calendar makers and ‘progressives’ alike, perhaps we could substitute First Nations Day for the Queens Birthday celebrations in June. Although not quite as quirky as our Canadian cousins who still celebrate Queen Victoria’s birthday, even the most ardent Constitutional Monarchist would acknowledge that celebrating the Queen’s Birthday in June is more than a little odd given her birthday is actually in April. And I’m sure Her Majesty wouldn’t mind being bumped for such a worthy cause.
Perhaps with two national days, and each Australian able to celebrate and mark whichever one better fits their personal philosophy and opinions on our collective history, we could use the power of the public holiday to remove ‘our’ Ground Hog Day from the Australian national calendar once and for all.
Sydney Avenue Consultants 