The world had its eyes on Sydney in 2000. A million people lined the harbour to ring in the new millennium (though some said it was actually the final year of the old one) on January 1.
Author
- Joshua Black
Visitor, School of History, Australian National University
US television reporters called it "the biggest party in Australian history". Bill Gates, chairman of Microsoft, whose corporation seemed to represent the coming age, was among those watching on .
Sydney offered not only a world-leading party, but also a litmus test for the much-feared Y2K bug, which threatened to knock planes out of the sky and bring the global economy to a halt. Australia and New Zealand were said to be the "tripwire for the world's computer systems".
It was fine in the end, although plenty of work had in fact been undertaken behind the scenes to make Australia's systems more millennium-proof than they might have been.
This was arguably the defining feature of Australia in the year 2000: a confident display for the world concealing a lot of angst and uncertainty. Australia was the "oldest continent on Earth", the US broadcasters told their viewers, but it was "much more of an Asian nation", and much closer to the rest of the world "thanks to technology".
Those confident claims would probably have surprised many Australians. Theirs was an old country trying to keep up with a new, interconnected world, and also a relatively young one trying to reconcile itself with the ancient cultures that its settler forebears had dispossessed.
A curated Australia
In September, the world's sporting and political elite, followed by a train of journalists, arrived in Sydney for the 2000 Olympic Games. It had been years in the making, and every level of government was involved. There were no fewer than 47,000 volunteers.
There was something for everyone in the well-curated opening ceremony. The event opened with the crack of a stockman's whip and a fleet of flag-waving bushmen on horseback. There were highly sanitised displays of European arrival, pastoral settlement and a tribute to an armour-clad colonial Victorian bushranger that must have baffled those viewers watching from abroad who had not seen a Sidney Nolan painting before.
Ancient stories and new cultural sensibilities were on display too. There were stylised performances of the Dreaming, striking First Nations dances and the distinctive sounds of the didgeridoo. A section entitled "Arrivals" recognised the importance of migration in the nation's story.
A young Aboriginal sprinter, Cathy Freeman, lit the cauldron in what became one of the iconic images of the year. The cauldron's hydraulics unfortunately got stuck as it ascended, and the flame was mere seconds from snuffing out in what could have been a global embarrassment. But big ambitions incur big risks.
This global performance of Australian-ness was arrestingly simple: that of a nation confident in its own diversity and capable of catering to everyone's tastes.
Even the musical selections seemed to reconcile the needs of the youth (with performances from a young Vanessa Amorosi and even younger Nikki Webster), and the more mature (represented by John Farnham and Olivia Newton-John).
Australia's athletes had their best ever showing with 58 medals, including Freeman's own gold .
Not quite comfortable, not quite relaxed
The Olympics masked as much as they revealed.
In 2000, many white Australians still weren't sure if theirs was, or should be, a multicultural society.
The reactionary Pauline Hanson was out of parliament for the time being, but her One Nation Party had won 7.5% of the vote in New South Wales in the March 1999 state election , and nearly 23% of the vote in Queensland the year before.
Eight weeks before millennium day, Australians had roundly rejected two referendum proposals, one to become a republic , and for a Constitutional preamble that, among other things, recognised Indigenous Australians as "the nation's first people".
But whether Hanson liked it or not, her lifetime had coincided with great demographic and social change.
In 1976 , roughly 1.8% of the population said they were born in Asia or the Middle East. In the 2001 census , 1.6% of the population were born in China or Vietnam alone, and many more were the descendants of migrants from these places.
The Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander population had more than doubled over the same period, while those identifying as Christian decreased from nearly 79% in 1976 to 56% in 2001.
This increasingly diverse Australia claimed to be on a journey to "reconciliation". That process had been sorely tested during the nasty debates about land rights and the Stolen Generations.
Corroboree 2000 , held on May 27 in Sydney, saw the Council for Aboriginal Reconciliation and the nation's political leaders present their visions for the next phase of national healing. The leaders symbolically left their handprints on a " reconciliation canvas ".
The following day, 250,000 Australians walked across the Sydney Harbour Bridge in a moving display of togetherness. John Howard, the prime minister, declined to participate.
But his treasurer, Peter Costello, made a point of showing up for a similar event in Melbourne that December, leading Victorian Liberals and another 200,000 or so Australians.
Their different approaches showed that the past was still a troubling present. Howard rebuffed suggestions of a treaty between Indigenous and settler Australians and maintained his refusal to apologise on behalf of the Commonwealth to the Stolen Generations, though all the states had done so by this time.
The idea of such an apology was not as popular then as it seemed later on. The prime minister was sensitive to the fact that his was "an unpopular view with a lot of people", but an opinion poll in The Australian newspaper showed a majority of voters were opposed to a national apology.
Two survivors of the Stolen Generations, Peter Gunner and Lorna Cubillo, sued the Commonwealth for damages in 2000, giving their opponents the chance to challenge the legitimacy of their experiences. None of this looked like a nation that was as " comfortable and relaxed " as Howard had hoped it would be under his watch.
Border politics
Australian collective memory often gravitates toward 2001, the year of the Tampa affair and the September 11 terrorist attacks in New York.
But Australia's border was already highly politicised in 2000.
In January, a boat arrived from Indonesia carrying 54 Christians fleeing religious conflict. They spent ten weeks at Port Hedland Immigration Detention facility, from which 39 went back to Indonesia and only 15 moved on to Adelaide to build new lives.
Port Hedland and other detention centres made the news for all the wrong reasons. There were riots, hunger strikes and multiple breakouts. Authorities responded with upgraded security perimeters , character checks , and strip searches without warrants.
Frustrated refugees set fire to South Australia's Woomera facility, which former prime minister Malcolm Fraser publicly condemned as a "hell-hole".
In an end-of-year reflection for The Age newspaper, Gary Tippet said there had been a "touch of mean-spiritedness" about the handling of it all. Chris Wallace rightly suggests 2000 was a crucial moment in the "march towards an absolute offshore, extraterritorial approach" to refugees in Australia.
In the intervening quarter-century, Australian officials have made mean-spiritedness an art form at the border and on the seas.
First-rate democracy, third-rate economy
Compared to the many legal challenges that came out of the US presidential contest in November 2000, Australia's elections looked pretty smooth and sensible. The US seemed to have a backward democracy grafted onto its world-leading, information-age economy.
Australia looked the opposite: a first-rate democracy with what looked increasingly like a " branch-office economy ".
Reformers had tried for 20 years to make Australia efficient and competitive, but as one editorial in The Australian Financial Review explained, the country still suffered from its "old economy image".
Certainly, Australia still sold its minerals and farm products to the world in exchange for quality cars and cutting-edge computers.
With global capitalists still enthralled by the global tech boom (though it was soon to become the " tech wreck "), they had little need for the Aussie dollar.
The currency's value declined through the year to just 50 US cents, and it would fall further in the following months. On its own, this mattered little, but a quarter of negative growth at the end of the year meant, as Paul Kelly later wrote , an "election-year recession" seemed a "real threat".
In the meantime, the much-debated Goods and Services Tax took effect around midnight on June 30 (a few hours later for businesses trading through the night).
The 10% consumption tax was a big deal. Costello said in his memoir the "prices of three billion products were to change all at the same time".
The measure was politically brave, but soon became unpopular , helping raise petrol prices and alienate small business owners.
The punters were pretty confident the Howard government was heading for defeat in 2001. They were wrong.
Between the old and new
The pace of social change accelerated from 2000.
In the 2021 census , 2.6% of the population said they were born in India, and a further 3.2% in China and Vietnam. Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Australians had more than doubled over two decades, such that they made up 3.2% of the total population in 2021.
People increasingly related to their economy differently, too. Half of the workforce had been unionised in the 1980s, but coverage fell to roughly a quarter in 2000 and just 12.5% in 2022.
These and other changes make our politics look different from that of 25 years ago. Nailbiter elections are now more common than thumping majorities and attitudes toward the once-feared "minority government" have softened.
For all that, many of the challenges of 2000 are still with us.
Many Australians are less tolerant of overt racism than they once were, but the 2023 Voice referendum and our offshore detention regime remind us that race still matters in this country.
Kevin Rudd apologised to the Stolen Generations in 2008, but Treaty and Truth-Telling are left unresolved.
And for all our talk about human capital and the digital economy, resources make up a much higher share of our total export mix today than in 2000.
A quarter-century on, Australia is still caught between the old and the new.
Dr Joshua Black is a Postdoctoral Research Fellow at The Australia Institute.
