'History, it seems, remains a discipline under siege in Australia. Politically unloved and not immediately convertible into an agile start up, recent revelations of political interference in the Australian Research Council (ARC) grants process have confirmed the impression that what we do as a discipline is widely misunderstood and frequently undervalued. All too often our work is seen as esoteric and far removed from the hurly burly of what is misleadingly termed the ‘real world’. The current mood is that historians need to be disciplined, enjoined to write in ways that serve the ‘national interest’, cajoled into accepting politically laden centres that devalue the importance of scholarly independence and measured against university-level metrics that view external research funding as an infinitely attainable output and not an increasingly scarce input.' (Matthew P. Fitzpatrick, Catherine Kevin & Melanie Oppenheimer : Editorial introduction)
'Oliver MacDonagh, a distinguished historian of Britain and Ireland, was appointed in 1963 to the foundation chair of history at what became the Flinders University of South Australia. The present article dissects the process of his elevation to the Flinders chair, at a time when senior academic appointments were handled differently than today, and discusses MacDonagh’s work at his new place of abode. As one of the new universities in Australia during the 1960s, Flinders had a brief to be different from its traditional counterparts and to ‘experiment boldly’. But was this what MacDonagh did during his time there?' (Publication abstract)
'Gallipoli and the Armenian genocide began at the same time in the same country and continued for approximately the same period of time. Their respective historiographies have generally treated them as occurring in completely separate universes. However, some international scholars have recently suggested a substantive historical relationship between them. Yet only one Australian (popular) historian, Alan Moorehead in his Gallipoli written more than 60 years ago, has ever done so. This article retrieves his analysis of this link, contending that Moorehead reworked material from two American diplomats working in Constantinople in 1915. This tripartite thesis is examined for its feasibility, especially its focus on the failed Allied naval attack of 18 March as precipitating the Armenian massacres. It is then briefly contrasted with contemporary scholarship that has also acknowledged Gallipoli, albeit in different ways, as a factor in the Armenian catastrophe. Using both the early and later suggestions of this linkage as a starting point, I offer an outline of a possible interpretation of the Gallipoli–Armenian genocide nexus. This article is intended as an introductory approach to this question.' (Publication abstract)
