This is from a deleted question requesting an example of history that has been over-dramatised.

The landing of Captain James Cook in Botany Bay, 1770, is often wrongly attributed to be the moment of European discovery and British claiming of Australia.

Cook only became a captain after his explorations of Australia were over. He was not the first European to visit Australia by any means - there may have been Portuguese or Spanish claimants to that title, but the first known European to sight Australia was the Dutchman Willem Janzsoon in 1606, followed by many other Dutchmen working for the VOC. Cook was also not the first Englishman - the Indiaman Tryall, attempting to follow the Dutch 'Brouwer route' to the East Indies, became the first European shipwreck in Australian waters in 1622, and the pirate/adventurer William Dampier later landed in north-western Australia in 1688, writing several popular accounts of his voyages, which went on to inspire people like Cook and Joseph Banks, the botanist who accompanied him.

Cook also didn't claim all of Australia, and didn't do so at Botany Bay - he did so on 'Possession Island', in the Torres Strait, claiming 'New South Wales', which did not include Dutch 'New Holland' until the founding of Swan River Colony in 1829. A British colony in Australia was by no means inevitable - convict colonies were also being considered for parts of Africa, and had they been chosen instead, Cook's voyages would have been as poorly remembered as those of other Europeans before and after. After all, nothing came of Dutch and French claims or proclamations.

Cook's efforts at mapping and documenting his findings in Australia are likely more scientific and enthusiastic than those of the Dutch merchantmen before him, but in reality he was merely finishing a picture that was mostly complete. The reason Cook was emphasised for so long in Australian classrooms and culture is because memorialising him promoted a proud British heritage of science, exploration and empire, and because he landed on the east coast, which has by far the major share of Australia's population, including the colonial beach-head of Sydney. People would rather remember gentleman Cook visiting Sydney than convicts or hard-to-pronounce Dutchmen in remote areas of Western Australia.

On top of that, Cook is often conflated with the landing of the First Fleet on the 26th of January 1788, which has since the late 80s been celebrated by a growing majority of Australians as Australia Day, despite being treated as a day of mourning by Aboriginal Australia for much longer. The date has become quite controversial in recent times, with many now abstaining from celebrations, and others defiantly emphasising British colonial heritage. In a controversy similar to the US and its statues of Confederate leaders, politicians often pump up civic pride by pouring money into Cook memorials, which are then targeted in protests, meaning Cook is again gaining relevance despite having little to do with the controversy.

Sources:Girt, David Hunt

The Savage Shore, Graham Seal

The Thevenot Map

Week 94

 

On July 8^th the Council of the Heads of Delegation in Paris had approved a brief resolution announcing the institution of an inter-allied commission on the major incidents which had occurred in Fiume during the previous week, and especially on July 6^th 1919.

The inter-allied Commission of Enquiry for Fiume shall investigate and report the facts as to the incident or incidents of violence, which have recently taken place in that town, and record their opinion on the responsibility therefor. They should further submit to the Supreme Council as soon as possible their recommendations as to the best means of preserving peace and safety hereafter.

Last week we covered the facts, properly speaking, as well as certain immediate reactions of the Italian government and diplomacy. It is now worth examining the responsibility and the recommendations as well the (long term) impact of those events on the attempts made by the Italian government to come to a settlement of the Adriatic question – and actually of the many different international matters Italy had become involved with – which was regarded by both Prime Minister Nitti and Foreign Minister Tittoni as a necessary moment in defusing certain unhealthy forms of "national" enthusiasm and their potential repercussions on internal stability, already compromised by the critical financial situation and by vast patterns of social discomfort and unrest. A process of normalization of Italy's international relations which, outside of the need to maintain good (or decent at least) relations with Italy's former allies, was a step in the economical, social and political transformation from wartime to peacetime society.

In this context, the incidents of Fiume and the subsequent inquest increased the urgency of such transformation, as they introduced a new ticking clock after the one counting the days to the signature of the Treaty of Versailles had expired, and offered the "national" press and the groups and forces which favored a prosecution of wartime policies new grounds to challenge the government.

Among the Conference Heads – Foreign Minister Tittoni had explained to Prime Minister Nitti on July 8^th – there is much displeasure with how we handle things in Dalmatia and Fiume […] as if the Conference had already deliberated in our favor [for this point, see also the memorandum submitted on July 29^th 1919], while they have absolutely no intention to. Now, from my understanding the inquest over Fiume, regardless of the issue of responsibility for these last incidents, will conclude with recognizing the excessive amount of forces massed in Fiume and to propose that an international garrison of no more than 3,000 men is left, to be equally divided between Allied countries. I was able to determine that, regardless of the opinion expressed by the generals, this is the point of view of the Conference Heads. For this reason, we could be faced at any moment with such a decision which would leave us with no other recourse but open conflict with the Allies or major unrest within the country. It would therefore be best if the Adriatic question […] was solved before the Conference made its deliberations on the Fiume inquest.

Furthermore, any urgency in pursuing a positive – or at least acceptable – resolution of the Adriatic question, which inevitably went through a certain readjustment (or, for the “national” field, read amputation) of the Italian demands, appeared extremely likely to produce friction with those forces which had supported, by and large, the opposite strategy, a continuation of which was destined to cause further conflicts with the Allies.

While most of the establishment agreed that Italy could not afford a new diplomatic breaking point (for immediate confirmation, consider how the “council of the crown” had rejected almost unanimously the idea of proceeding to declare unilaterally the annexation of Fiume on September 25^th 1919), views on the matter begun to diverge when one considered the alternative between settling things as soon as possible (at the obvious expense of a complete satisfaction of what was left of the Italian aspirations) and waiting for more favorable circumstances (a rather costly resolution, and problematic in so far as internal order as well, but not unlikely to produce an improvement, as general perception was that Wilson's nearing electoral defeat would lead to a disinterest of the US in European matters). Of the two viewpoints, variously represented even within the Italian Government, Nitti leaned significantly towards the first one, as economical considerations weighted prominently on his evaluation of the international collocation of Italy and perspective of internal stability – furthermore a measure of respite from Her diplomatic and international troubles was absolutely needed for Italy to proceed to those social and political reforms which, while also being understood as a precondition for a return-transition to peacetime, had been highlighted since before the war as necessary for a stable and lasting transformation into a modern, liberal democratic system: a final expansion of suffrage (women had to wait a bit longer) with the introduction of proportional system, a reform of taxation which abandoned the over-reliance on consumption taxes and adopted a personal income progressive imposition, a much needed (and very much talked about) land reform, a reform of the Italian Parliament adapting to the evolution from a notables system into a modern party system; last, and unforeseen before the war, a reform of the Army organization which had to adapt to the lessons of the Great War but at the same time to be mindful of the Italian budgetary constraints.

 

Estimates of the size of the Italian Army at the time of the armistice vary significantly, depending on the inclusion of prisoners of war, invalids, additional personnel, administration ranks and “militarized” production units (that is, workers subject to military authority). G. Rochat (L'esercito Italiano da Vittorio Veneto a Mussolini, 1967 – ed. 2006) provided an estimate of 3,760,000 men and 186,000 officers (21,926 career officers, 155,805 complements and 10,224 called back from retirement or permanent leave) at the start of the demobilization process.

It's not difficult to imagine the vast administrative, structural and – indirectly, since the Italian Army had a tradition of avoiding a conscious political presence - “political” expansion experienced by an organism that, as of 1914, had a strength of 225,000 men and 15,858 officers arranged in 12 army corps (116 infantry regiments), with the most ambitious expansion plans involving mobilizing upwards from 25 to 40 divisions. At the time of the intervention, the Italian forces, in a state of semi-complete mobilization, had been structured in 4 armies, 14 army corps and around 35 divisions.

42 months later, at the armistice, these had expanded into 8 armies, 25 army corps, 60 divisions (close to 300 infantry regiments) – all with relative commands – accounting for the aforementioned men and officers. In consideration of these numbers, it's obvious that demobilization of the army represented, in itself and outside of additional considerations, a complex logistical, economical and social problem, where concerns for public order, transport limitations, and the need to devise a plan for reintroducing the veterans to civilian life represented the other side of the need to immediately and drastically cut military expenditure (which represented by far the biggest quota of Italian deficit accrued during the war, as military expenses had come close to the level of pre-war GDP) and also of the quite understandable urgency of enlisted men to return home.