Boat People

We hear much of Boat People today, refugees seeking safety and a better life in Australia. I am always reminded that my own ancestors were Boat People too.

 They also sailed in wooden boats across dangerous waters, sustained by hope for a better future.

 In many cases they were unwilling emigrants, virtually exported by their countries of birth - the Irish convicts, the German miners, the Irish orphans. Only a few were free settlers. On arrival in Australia, they often experienced further persecution and bigotry. Not much has changed, it seems.

The convicts were the lowest on the totem pole, leading to concealment of convict origins by later generations, but even the free Irish were not held in high regard. The Irish were used to this, of course, and undaunted by it, continuing a long tradition of rebellion against authority. This resilience stood them in good stead as they made their way, over generations, up the social ladder.

James Scullin

 Many of their descendants would become active in trade unions and politics. James Scullin, the son of Irish Immigrants, became Prime Minister of Australia in 1929.

An Irishman of my acquaintance once remarked that there are two kinds of Irish – “lace curtain Irish” and “bog Irish”.

The former were those who strove to “fit in” and quickly became “respectable” – pillars of the Catholic Church, their children educated by nuns and Brothers – some even becoming priests or nuns themselves.

The latter never quite lost their attitude of irreverence and contempt for authority, and were sometimes described as “agin the government” as the saying went.

Ned Kelly springs to mind.

 Whatever you think of Ned’s exploits, his family undoubtedly suffered discrimination and injustice, and Ned wasn’t going to take it lying down. He is probably the most famous Irishman in Australian history, even today. Less well remembered are the three policemen he killed - Sgt. Kennedy, and Constables Lonigan & Scanlon (all Irish names, you’ll note).

The Germans were more generally respected as hardworking and God-fearing, but they too suffered persecution during the first and second World Wars, though some of their sons served (and died) in both campaigns.

Despite the many difficulties they encountered, my ancestors were undoubtedly better off in their new home – better fed, with opportunites for work, ownership of land (undreamed of in their native countries) and education for their children.

Recently I was asked which group I most identified with – the Germans or the Irish. I plumped for the Germans; I had a German surname, and was raised mostly among family of German descent. They were good people, industrious and law-abiding.

But when I think of feisty little Bridget Hannigan, with the odds all against her, shouting abuse at the magistrate, I hope I’ve inherited some of her spirit too.