For over fifty years, the collective voices of student activists have echoed up from Australian universities to our policy makers. From the Civil Rights movement and the 1965 Freedom Ride to advocating for Aboriginal rights in rural New South Wales, championing second-wave feminism and then fighting for equality for the LGBTQIA+ community.

For most, the notion of early student activism in Australia conjures a grainy image of the late ‘60s and early ‘70s when tertiary students in their thousands united to protest  South African apartheid and the Vietnam War.

Australian university activism, however, has its origins dating back to the early twentieth century and the first student union groups. Graham Hastings documents the history of these clubs and early activists in his 2003 book, It Can’t Happen Here: A political history of Australian Student Activism. According to Hastings, the maiden student political association, the Labor Club, was founded at the University of Melbourne in 1925 and was soon followed by other groups around the country. In the decades following the First World War, the workers’ struggle and the effects of the Great Depression inspired student radicalism for the first time in Australia, leading to the creation of leftist groups across campuses. These early progressive factions collaborated to form the National Union of Australian University Students (NUAUS) in 1937.

The Union developed in size and authority, and was an overarching democracy despite the differences in radical student politics across universities. The circulation of their newspaper, National U, eventually peaked at around 50,000 and shared news of student political activities.2

Widespread anti-Vietnam sentiment allowed the student movement to really gain traction. The late ‘60s until the mid-‘70s was a period of widespread protest and calls for peace, much of which was driven by Australian universities.

In 1966, after Prime Minister Harold Holt’s announcement of an increase of troop numbers and 500 new conscripts for Vietnam, students at the University of Melbourne held a sit-down protest at a parade during Moomba festival.3

On July 4, 1968, 4,000 students from Melbourne, Monash, La Trobe, and RMIT Universities demonstrated outside the United States Consulate. Violence erupted between the protesters and mounted officers, sparking a turbulent period of arrests and distrust of the police.  Students who were not activists joined forces with students who were, and took to the streets en masse with other concerned citizens. The NUAUS, which aided and mobilised young activists, became the more radical Australian Union of Students in 1971.4

Moratoriums were held in Melbourne, Sydney, and Brisbane across 1970 and 1971 that saw almost 100,000 people march through the city centres, holding placards and calling for an end to conscription and Australia’s support of the War. Tens of thousands more protested in cities around the country.

As I was researching this article, I interviewed Col Nicholson, an old friend and former activist who immersed himself in campaigning for the anti-Vietnam movement, while an engineering student in Brisbane. According to him, about a third of the student body at the University of Queensland took part in the moratoriums. He was not part of a political society at university, but said that most people he knew took part in the marches whether they were members or not.

Students then protested against mandatory conscription and the disruption of people’s lives by a war Col calls “a complete waste of time.” He sees the overall movement as being organised by society rather than the universities, but that tertiary political groups were excellent organisers that ensured students were a fixture at every march.

The 21st century brought new global challenges and political unrest in Australia, lending new causes for activism in our universities. Successive government policy has been partially responsible for this resurgence, notably the Liberal government’s attempts to reduce university funding.

Notable in 2017 were: the successful campaign for marriage equality during the Turnbull government’s plebiscite, the ongoing fight for the rights of refugees and asylum seekers, particularly against the closure and subsequent removal of the male asylum seekers left in the Australian-operated detention centre on Manus Island in Papua New Guinea. The ongoing and critical issue of climate change has also been cause for activism. In Australia this year, this took shape in the campaign against the Indian mining conglomerate Adani and its proposed Carmichael coalmine.  Adani already operate the Abbot Point coal terminal, which sits next to the Great Barrier Reef.

There has been a noticeable shift, however, in student activism in the past forty years. This shift is not only in terms of the issues faced, but also the tactics used. One of the more marked differences between the Vietnam era and today is the way that technology and social media are used.

Facebook is now both a ubiquitous information source and a public forum. Students who might not necessarily take part in activism with university union-affiliated groups still use social media as a platform for discussion and expression. It is a way to engage with issues of concern.

Sharing thoughts and information online can raise awareness in the same way that handing out a brochure on campus can. Online participation  brings people into the fold, opens up dialogue, and eventually leads to more people participating in offline demonstrations.

For example, activist groups use social media to connect with supporters. At RMIT University, groups like Fossil Free RMIT and Socialist Alternative can be found in the student union directory and on Facebook. Campaigners talk to students and passers-by outside the State Library, and keep interested parties updated via their social media channels.

For those involved in protest in a physical sense, the internet is still used to incite action. Students often find out about rallies via their social media channels; the modern word-of-mouth. Movements are given a hashtag as they gain momentum.

Nevertheless, students today are less involved than they were in the ‘70s and face-to-face contact may still be best. There are those who argue that student activism has disappeared, despite there being higher numbers of university students today than ever before. In 2011, 18.8% of the population aged 15 or older had a Bachelor’s degree or higher, compared to just 2% in 1971.5 According to senior research fellow at Curtain University, Tim Pitman, however, this means a greater “diversity of opinion, experience and belief [that] often makes unified action much more difficult.”6

Student Unions continue to register and fund political clubs, but the focus has shifted to welfare provision. Unions in universities around Australia deliver cafes, meeting rooms, social events, food, student newspapers and accommodation advice. They give grants to their various associations, but they are not at the frontline of activism in the way they once were.

Students today also spend less time on campus than students in the ‘70s, and most today work at least casually while they are studying. Many modern students are still engaged with political issues and current affairs, though some are undoubtedly apathetic. At the other end of this spectrum are the members of student groups who campaign tirelessly for issues of social justice. While these numbers have dwindled, student activism today does not necessarily mean a subscription to a union-affiliated group.

Instead of lamenting the disappearance of the student activists, perhaps we should think of them as assembling differently. Col pointed to what he sees as a “sense of hopelessness” in today’s students, though I’m not sure if this can be said for all.

Students I spoke with had all participated politically in some form. Most of them had had attended multiple demonstrations for various issues that they felt passionately about, but never joined the university union or, if they had, did not use its services. Students were ardent in their support for marriage equality, asylum seeker rights, and improved environmental conservation. None were happy with the current state of politics and policy in Australia.

Of student activism today, Col says he rarely hears about it. This could be due to smaller numbers at marches. Protesters also fail to gather the same media coverage they did during the Vietnam era. Despite this, he thinks that students today are involved for the same reasons as students back then – because there are issues they care about.

It is unsurprising that student activism has transformed, at least on surface level, as new technology and student demographics deliver a very different academic and political landscape.

Although there has been change in discourse and methods, the underlying reasons why student activists take part remains the same. Although it may be on a smaller scale, young people still join movements that resonate with them, whether online or on campus.

  • Catherine McLeod is an International Studies student at RMIT University and is currently interning as a research assistant. She likes writing and making things.

Issue 7-STUDENT ACTIVISM