I am referring to the International Rugby Board hitherto known as the IRB, who this week have issued an edict that "Waltzing Matilda" is not to be sung at any of the World Cup rugby matches as it is not "culturally significant" and therefore is out of place at matches.
Huh!
For those not in the loop, Australia is hosting the Rugby World Cup due to begin in about 40 days or something. This hallowed event occurs periodically, and like in most other sports, Australia is the defending champion.
The powers that be of Rugby seem to believe that the singing of our most cultually significant song will give the Australian team an unfair advantage and have deemed it to be not culturally significant for the purposes of the 2003 Rugby World Cup. This has to be the most blatant example of discrimination that I have ever heard of. It is disgusting.
I wrote a few days ago about the meaning of Anzac and how we celebrate our biggest ever military failure where most countries would celebrate their victories.
Waltzing Matilda is just another expression of this. The song (originally a poem) was penned by one of Australia's most celebrated poets A.B (Banjo) Paterson. Incidentally he is also responsible for The Man From Snowy River, but that's another story.
Waltzing Matilda is the tale of a swagman, or in today's PCS (Politically Correct Speech), an itinerant worker frequently unemployed, who wandered the outback carrying all his possessions in a rolled up package, or matilda, on his back. He stopped one day for smoko (cigarette and cup of tea) on the banks of a billabong where he came across a sheep. Being a bloke who was always on the lookout for a free feed, promptly killed the sheep, stuffed it in his tuckerbag with a view to a few decent meals. At that moment up rides the squatter, the landowner, the imperialist astride his horse accompanied by a handful of the local law enforcement. He wants tp prosecute the swagman for sheep stealing. Bear in mind that the squatter's got a few hundred thousand woolies wandering about the top paddock and that he's hardly down his last sheep. The swagman, determined not to be arrested and gaoled, jumps up and throws himself into the billabong and in a moment of self-fulfilling prophesy, declares that they'll never catch him alive, which they don't.
It is a strange song to hold dear, but that epitomises the Australian spirit. We won't kow-tow to imperialistic or paternalistic rules and regulations unless there's a bloody good reason for it. We support and celebrate the underdog, the bloke who hasn't got a chance. We cheer him on until of course he gets there and then we cut him down to size!
It is an interesting parallel isn't it.
If the IRB wanted to ensure the weight of 19 million Australians behind the 15 slogging it out on the rugby field, they've gone about it the right way. We are incensed that this body, who think themsleves so special, have attempted to take away from us something as important as our national song. So incensed in fact that it will be sung, and sung in spades and heaven help any petty minded IRB official who seeks to stop it.
No, they haven't taken away our heritage, they given us one more way to cement it into history.
Good on 'em!
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