Last week the ABC Four Corners program “Sacrifice“ highlighted the harsh reality that we have lost control of the Australian War Memorial, which is dedicated to remembering the many thousands of Australian lives impacted by war. This investigation exposed the way in which unscrupulous political decision-making has led to a major redevelopment that risks turning this unique national institution into a “Disneyland of war”.

Half a billion dollars was channeled to this expansion by former prime minister Scott Morrison responding to the salesmanship of former defence minister and director of the Australian War Memorial, Brendan Nelson. Was this future planning essential to enable the Australian War Memorial to finally include exhibitions to educate Australians about the legacy of First Nations Frontier Wars? Was there also a plan to greatly expand recognition and description of Australian peacekeepers in over 60 UN authorised peace missions?

Apparently, the scale of the new Australian War Memorial development is actually required to accommodate the fighting machinery of war supported by international arms companies ready to use a national place of remembrance to promote the lucrative arms trade. But is this the way Australian families want to remember the sacrifice of their children, parents and relatives? Visitors want quiet reflection, not loud reminders of modern killing machines, including fighter jets and armoured personnel carriers.

First World War correspondent Charles Bean saw the wasteland of killing at the Battle of Pozieres in 1916 when there were 23,000 Australian casualties in seven weeks. He knew those Australians would not be returning home so he proposed a memorial to the carnage of war. He envisaged a “gem of its kind“ – “a place where families can come and grieve and mourn their loved ones”.

The Australian War Memorial opened in 1941 during World War II. It has been described as the soul of the nation, but it could equally be seen as serving as the conscience of the nation. Its unique Canberra location is in a direct line to the Australian Parliament so it might one day assist a future government to consider the consequences of war before gambling with the lives of young Australians.

This unique institution belongs to all of us, yet the dominant narratives highlighted within its walls are primarily those related to the preoccupations of those within the defence establishment. What kind of a memorial do we need to honour all those Australians who suffered death, injury or mental trauma? Is it time veterans and their families were consulted about their priorities in remembering the reality of war? Should young people, who would be expected to serve in any future war, be asked how they would like to be honoured?

How should the Australian Peace Movement be included in the narrative of our war history? What kind of vision do our parliamentarians bring to expanding the role of this memorial to influence future generations?

The Four Corners program “Sacrifice“ has exposed the way in which some political leaders continue to confuse Australian military history with business opportunities offered by the international arms industry.

Australian children on school tours to the national capital are encouraged to visit both the Australian War Memorial and the Parliament to gain an understanding of the impact of successive wars on our society and the role of Parliament in our democracy. The Parliamentary Education Office provides children with the opportunity to gain an experience of national law-making; our place of remembrance should not only inspire young people to recognise the sacrifice of others, but also inform them about international humanitarian law and alternative ways to resolve conflict. Therefore, the example of Australian peace-keeping in so many countries around the world is of great significance in creating an understanding of the complexity of situations which lead to war and how well Australian peacekeepers have responded.

Many teachers and parents are determined to stop international arms companies intruding into schools and universities. Cash-poor educational institutions are easy targets for international weapons manufacturers keen to exert their influence on a fresh generation of potential defence workers. Governments would not accept alcohol and tobacco sponsors of school health programs, yet the future well-being of young people is readily influenced by the big names of global weapons producers. It is unethical in our educational institutions, and it is totally unacceptable in the Australian War Memorial.

Those now responsible for this questionable redevelopment urgently need to restore it as the nation’s prime place of remembrance – the one that Bean wanted established for Australian families suffering the consequences of war. Like many of us, he would reject the current plan to turn this national memorial into a massive showroom to benefit the international arms industry.

There are so many creative ways this redevelopment could be channelled to expand its influence on visitors, but we need to see far greater consideration of truth-telling in understanding the impact of war and finding alternatives that offer greater hope for peace and security.

The views expressed are solely those of the author and may or may not reflect those of Pearls and Irritations.