How Hobart, Sydney and Melbourne are reckoning with statues of colonial-era white men in an age of truth telling
This is the tale of three cities and the same number of statues, two of them colonial era and one from early this century. All
This is the tale of three cities and the same number of statues, two of them colonial era and one from early this century. All were erected to celebrate the experiences of prominent white men who lived in colonial Australian times and who respectively treated the Indigenous people of their realms barbarously, murderously and contemptuously. I’m talking about: the 1889 Hobart statue of former Tasmanian premier and thief/trader in Indigenous body parts William Crowther; the 2013 Sydney statue of the fifth governor of New South Wales, Lachlan Macquarie, a massacre commander who used “terror’’ tactics against Aboriginal people; and the statue dedicated in Melbourne in 1865 to the ill-fated explorers Burke and Wills and their expedition, who First Nations people might have been able to save had the explorers more readily accepted help instead of shooting at them. The cities that respectively stage each of these problematic statues have responded with varying alacrity to the ethical, white-washing and historical dilemmas each has posed to modern Australia (there are many others besides that need dealing with). In 2022 Hobart city council voted to remove the statue of Crowther, a surgeon who stole the skull of the deceased Tasmanian Aboriginal man William Lanne in pursuit of the racially charged Darwinian pseudoscience of phrenology. Across Australia, countless heads of Indigenous people – and other body parts – were stolen to meet the market of (mostly British) adherents of this voodoo pursuit, which adhered to the fallacious view that head shape determined human temperament and intelligence and different races’ rung on the ladder of civilisation. View image in fullscreen The new project at the former site of the statue of William Crowther in Hobart. An inscription nearby reads: ‘Monuments perish, but deeds – good or bad – never die.’ Photograph: Ethan James/AAP Crowther was among them. Not surprisingly, his bronze statue in Franklin Square was frequently vandalised (red paint was a favourite), most notably in 2024 when it was cut down at the ankles and its plinth spray painted with the words WHAT GOES AROUND.
Crowther was toppled just hours before the Tasmanian Civil and Administrative Tribunal upheld the council’s decision to remove him. While not condoning vandalism, Hobart – in the most progressive approach so far taken in Australia to the challenges posed by colonial statues – saw this as an opportunity for reformist truth telling. And, so, on Tuesday a new memorial (based around that vacant plinth) was dedicated to a far broader take on vexed, bloody Tasmanian history than Crowther’s likeness could ever afford. It incorporates a native garden and a circle of bronze inscribed with words from three commissioned writers. The bronze-inscribed sentiments include “monuments perish, but deeds – good or bad – never die”. Indeed. It’s hard to argue against that. One of the writers, Nunami Sculthorpe-Green, of Tasmanian Aboriginal and Warlpiri heritage, said: “It was important to me to re-centre the life of William Lanne in this story. After decades of calling for change, the Aboriginal community can now see our experience and humanity reflected in this space.’’ As I’ve written numerous times previously, colonial – and evidently some 21st century – statues are rarely accurate embodiments of history. Indeed, unless they aim to tell historical truths, they are little more than propaganda portals – misty-eyed memorials to bad men that paper over their known deficiencies and, in the case of too many, their atrocities. Which brings us to the statue of Macquarie that stands on the edge of Sydney’s Hyde Park and which in my view – and that of many others – should never have been dedicated to him in 2013, given all that was known about his violent conduct against the colony’s Indigenous people. View image in fullscreen Police surround a statue of Governor Lachlan Macquarie during an Invasion Day rally in 2026. Photograph: Jessica Hromas/The Guardian Absurdly, when the statue was unveiled by various dignitaries who lauded the murderous Macquarie as, among other things, a “hero’’, it also came with an inscription that he was a “perfect gentleman’’. This is wholly inconsistent with his infamous orders to his redcoat soldiers in 1816 ahead of his Appin massacre: “On any occasion of seeing or falling in with the Natives, either in Bodies or Singly, they are to be called upon, by your friendly Native Guides, to surrender themselves to you as Prisoners of War.
If they refuse to do so, make the least show of resistance, or attempt to run away from you, you will fire upon and compel them to surrender, breaking and destroying the Spears, Clubs and Waddies of all those you take Prisoners. “Such natives as happen to be killed on such occasions, if grown up men, are to be hanged up on Trees in Conspicuous Situations, to Strike the Survivors with the greater terror.” In 2017, amid numerous complaints to Sydney city council, the Macquarie statue was referred for consideration by an advisory panel. Then in 2023 the council supported a motion by Yvonne Weldon (the council’s first Indigenous member in its 180 years), committing to truth telling in the public domain by incorporating First Nations perspectives on plaques associated with statues of colonial figures. Perhaps Hobart’s progressive action regarding the Crowther statue will give Sydney the impetus – or courage – to finally reckon with its big historically in-your-face Macquarie mistake. Meanwhile one activist, Stephen Langford, has made repeated court appearances in Sydney after literally adhering to this white elephant of a statue printed copies of Macquarie’s orders to his troops before the Appin massacre. When we met at the statue recently, he said: “I haven’t paid the fines and I intend to keep doing this until something regarding this statue changes.’’ The call for change brings us to Victoria and the Burke and Wills statue – the state’s oldest colonial monument. Despite conservative reservations about moving – or “meddling’’ with in any way – such monuments, Burke and Wills have been moved five times, most recently in 2017. It has been in storage ever since. Burke and Wills and their ill-fated – or hapless – 1860 expedition to traverse the continent by foot – 3,250km from Melbourne to the Gulf of Carpentaria and almost back again – was a foundation myth to Victoria on par with what that other great and hopeless tragedy, Gallipoli, became to the fledgling Australian nation. View image in fullscreen The Burke and Wills monument in Melbourne when it was still being displayed publically.
Photograph: City of Melbourne Art and Heritage Collection How we love a (white) heroically tragic failure. I’ve never quite understood why. Anyway, despite the statue’s many moves, it has never reflected the significant parallel Indigenous story of the expedition. Despite setting out with at least 24 camels and several horses, six tons of firewood (wasn’t it everywhere in the bush?), 57 buckets, many skeins of green gossamer for veils, 50 gallons of rum (supposedly for the camels), a cedar-topped oak table and chairs, a piano and a Chinese gong, Burke apparently shunned offers of help from numerous First Nations peoples (a constant occurrence in white continental exploration). The sole survivor, John King, was saved by South Australia’s Yandruwandha people, a critical – if overlooked – part of the expedition narrative that will now be told when the statue is repositioned and unveiled for a sixth time in Melbourne next year. According to Melbourne city council: “The city hasn’t just changed physically. Our understanding of the expedition has changed too. The monument’s return to the public eye is a chance to share a broader story, with new signage recognising the critical role of the Yandruwandha people and their support for the expedition’s sole survivor, John King.’’ It’s tempting to say “about time’’. But credit must be paid where it’s due when it comes to colonial statues and truth telling. Hobart and Melbourne city councils deserve applause given all the controversy, the heat and the light, that comes with merely suggesting any change to these monuments. Meanwhile, in the words of one of my old editors, Sydney really should “get an effing wriggle-on’’ and deal with that Macquarie statue.
