By Bridget Brennan, ABC
Analysis - Draped in a possum skin cloak against the black of the dawn, Uncle Mark Brown stood in front of thousands to honour the land on which the Shrine of Remembrance is built.
As he attempted to pay respect to his ancestors, a small group of people tried to shout him down.
"We don't need to be welcomed," they yelled.
As Uncle Mark's voice rose, he continued his speech above the jeers, adopting a steely gaze out to the crowd, undeterred.
Listen: Applause drowns out the heckles and boos during uncle Mark Brown’s welcome to country before Melbourne’s ANZAC dawn service at the Shrine. @9NewsMelb pic.twitter.com/uvGVPnykeA
— Mark Santomartino (@msanto92) April 24, 2025
It must have been a lonely moment for Uncle Mark, a Bunurong and Gunditjmara man, but this was surely not the first time he'd had to stare down prejudice and racism.
'I will never attend an Anzac Day service at the Shrine again'
Uncle Mark is a well-known Aboriginal elder in Melbourne, where he often works with community organisations to bridge divides between his community and non-Indigenous Australians.
On Anzac Day last year, he stood at the Shrine, uninterrupted, to deliver an address focused on reconciliation and the importance of understanding our shared history.
This year, a group of far-right extremists was present at the Shrine, and political leaders have been quick to condemn the disruption as disrespectful.
The ugliness on display at Melbourne's war memorial has shaken the Aboriginal community, Indigenous veterans especially.
A man, left, is escorted away by police during the Dawn Service at the Shrine of Remembrance on April 25, 2025 in Melbourne, Australia. Photo: Asanka Ratnayake / Getty Images
Kamilaroi veteran Dean Duncan was at the service and watched on in despair.
"I will never attend an Anzac Day service at the Shrine again," he tells ABC News.
Instead, he will only now attend smaller, Aboriginal-led services to honour Indigenous veterans.
The outright hostility on display in Melbourne - albeit driven by a few - mirrors the long, quiet and painful exclusion of Black diggers from the national conversation.
Photo: ABC News / Nicholas Hynes
The Fighting Gunditjmara
"What about the Anzacs?" shouted one of the protesters.
Presumably he wasn't thinking of the Aboriginal Anzacs, many of them from one of Uncle Mark's own mobs, the Gunditjmara.
They have earned the name "The Fighting Gunditjmara" due to their long history of service and sacrifice, including WWII hero Uncle Reg Saunders, the first Aboriginal commissioned officer, whose father had served at Gallipoli.
Despite historic regulations preventing some Indigenous people from enlisting, First Nations people have served in every major conflict since colonisation.
But upon their return, many veterans were not allowed in the RSL, had their land and children taken and felt excluded and forgotten.
Victoria's truth-telling commission, Yoorrook, has heard of ongoing anger in the Indigenous community about the denial of soldier settlement blocks to Aboriginal people who fought for Australia in the First and Second World Wars.
Enormous strides have been made in recent years to properly recognise the unique sacrifice of Black diggers, largely led by the advocacy of Indigenous veterans and historians.
In 2017, for the first time, Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander veterans led the national Anzac Day march.
It was a proud and emotional moment for black veterans and their families who had become accustomed to being down the back, never up front.
Which is why it is so tragic - in 2025 - to see an Aboriginal man so callously shouted down during a service designed to commemorate all veterans, no matter their background or heritage.
"It was disrespectful to my own service, and to all the other people who served," says Dean.
Bunurong Elder Mark Brown delivers a welcome to country ceremony during the Anzac Day dawn service at the Shrine of Remembrance, to remember soldiers who have died in the line of duty, in Melbourne on 25 April 2025. Photo: MARTIN KEEP / AFP
'These hecklers, they don't see past the colour'
After next week's election, the incident raises questions for the incoming federal government about what can be done to counter the rise of the far-right, and to properly address the level of distress and mental illness in Aboriginal communities.
The Aboriginal-led crisis line, 13YARN, says a large volume of calls it receives relate to Indigenous people affected by racism and abuse since the Voice referendum in 2023.
For Dean, who was posted to the 8th/9th Battalion, Royal Australian Regiment, as a 17-year-old, the jeers reflect what he sees as rising hostility towards Indigenous people.
"Post the referendum, it's emboldened people so much, they've got this back up to be blatantly racist, and they're protected by it by saying 'Australia voted and we don't want to recognise you'," he says.
He was at least heartened by the many people at the dawn service who applauded Uncle Mark to drown out the jeers.
"When we served, there was no colour, we all treated each other the same … but these hecklers, they don't see past the colour."
- ABC
