Living the nation

Belonging to and identifying with a nation has, since the latter half of the 18th century, been a distinctly human quality. To be human is to be part of a nation. Yet, contemporary theorists such as Appadurai and Fukuyama argue this universal human trait is undergoing vast change, threatened, it seems, by irrelevance and obsolescence, a return to tribalism and widened conceptual horizons represented by the likes of transnationalism and cosmopolitanism. These same threats are often attributed to the changing ideas and experience of spatiality and temporality enabled by information and communication technologies such as the Internet, spurred on by the rising intensity of flow amongst and within the human population. This paper argues that in the analysis of changes to the nation—which I suggest is best considered as the nexus of the body politic, the social body and human bodies—it is the notion of lived time and lived space that is most appropriate. The notion of the lived is borrowed and extended from Henri Lefebvre, who theorises that between mentally conceived and physically perceived space, lies its socially lived counterpart, which he defines as “the materialisation of social being”. As such, lived space (and time) draws on both its material and mental aspects. It is the thesis of this paper that against such a background as lived time and lived space the nation becomes much more than a political concept and/or project and is revealed as lived phenomenon, experienced in and through the dynamics of everyday praxis. Inherent to this argument is the understanding that it is the interplay between the possibilities imagined of the nation and; its eventual realisation through social acts and practices that marks it as a profoundly human institution.

The Corio Oval tribe: Geelong Football Club in colonial times

Geelong, Victoria’s second city, has an AFL football club whose culture and identity is closely tied to the city itself. An analysis of its playing group for the colonial period demonstrates that this local tribalism began early. As football became professionalised towards the end of the nineteenth century, country Victoria lost power in relative terms to metropolitan Melbourne: for example, Ballarat’s three main clubs lost their senior status. But Geelong, with its one remaining senior club, prospered and was admitted to the VFL ranks in 1897. The Geelong players were the sons and nephews of the Western District squattocracy and so had access to networks of power and influence. Many attended the prestigious Geelong Grammar School and the worthy Geelong College (in surprisingly equal numbers). They pursued careers both on the land and in professional roles, and maintained the social connections they had built through the club and other local institutions. Despite their elite standing, however, they continued to be regarded by the supporter base as an embodiment of the city and a defence against the city’s Melbourne critics that Geelong was a mere ‘sleepy hollow’.