Reflection on the 11th China-Australia Transcultural Studies Symposium and the 21st International Conference of Australia Studies in China
Australian universities are no longer ivory towers. These days, we academics face mounting pressure from the increased workload and the constant need to secure research funding. Representing the Griffith Asia Institute, I participated in and presented at the 11th China-Australia Transcultural Studies Symposium. Sitting in the lecture theatre, I felt as though I had returned to an ivory tower for the first time in a long while. I was deeply moved by Professor Han Jin from Western Sydney University, who passionately introduced two Aboriginal artists with Chinese heritage, and by Professor Wang Jinghui from Tsinghua University, who offered a poetic analysis of Richard Flanagan’s two award-winning masterpieces, The Narrow Road to the Deep North and The Seventh Question.
The conference participants themselves are like living history books of Australia and China—Professors David Carter, Li Yao, Wayne Hudson and many others. Australian historian Professor David Walker presented his book Happy Together: Bridging the Australia-China Divide (2022, co-authored with Li Yao and Karen Walker). Thanks to the modern library system, I was able to download the eBook and read it during my 4.5-hour high-speed train journey from Beijing to Shanghai.
It was fascinating to read about Li Yao’s journey—encouraged by David—back to his hometown in Shanxi to trace his ancestors. His great-grandfather had moved from Shanxi to Inner Mongolia over a century ago. As I boarded my train, the first message I received from my 84-year-old father was: “Your mother has cooked your favourite dish and we are waiting for you.” Li Yao’s journey to his hometown would have been on a much slower train, but I believe we shared the same sentimental feeling: “Now nearing home, timid I grow” (近乡情更怯).
The keynote speaker at the event was Professor Mark Kenny, Director of the Australian Studies Institute at the Australian National University and host of the leading political podcast Democracy Sausage. When commenting on the China–Australia relationship, Mark noted that at its most public level, the bilateral relationship exhibits a dualistic character. Economic interdependence is portrayed as separate from geopolitical tensions. Media narratives in Australia often reinforce these “oil and water” depictions. During the Q&A session, an audience member asked why Australian media tend to be so negative toward China. Before addressing the question directly, Mark shrewdly pointed out that Australian media are often even more critical of their own government.
While listening to Mark’s speech, I was suddenly reminded of a poem by Su Shi (1037–1101), also known by his literary pseudonym Dongpo Jushi—a renowned poet, writer, calligrapher, painter, and statesman of the Northern Song dynasty. The poem reads:
Calming the waves
By Su Shi, Translated by Xu Yuanchong
Listen not to the rain beating against the trees.
Why don’t you slowly walk and chant with ease?
Better than saddled horse, I like sandals and cane,
Oh, I would fain,
In a straw cloak, spend my life in mist and rain.
Drunk, I am sobered by vernal wind shrill
And rather chill.
In front, I see the slanting sun atop the hill;
Turning my head, I find the dreary beaten track.
Let me go back!
Impervious to wind, rain or shine, I’ll have my will.
Su Shi experienced multiple political setbacks and periods of exile throughout his life. Deeply versed in Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism, he advocated for harmony amid diversity and pursued inner freedom and transcendence. He embraced the Confucian principle of “harmony without uniformity” (和而不同), emphasising inclusiveness and tolerance while striving for spiritual liberation.
One of the biggest surprises of my trip to Beijing was discovering that there are 40 Australian Studies Centres across China, including two in Inner Mongolia—one at the University of Inner Mongolia and another at Inner Mongolia Normal University. Australian books, including children’s literature, are not only translated into Chinese but also into Mongolian. When I arrived in Shanghai, I was even more amazed by the large turnout—more than 160 participants at the 21st International Conference of Australian Studies in China! I was also struck by the fact that even some private universities and universities in third-tier cities have a sizable number of academics focused on Australian studies. The topics covered at the Shanghai conference were much broader than those in Beijing, ranging from literature and international relations to education, migration, climate change, and energy trade between China and Australia.
In comparison, how many Chinese Studies Centres are there in Australia? Not only are there far fewer, but the number of people learning Chinese is also remarkably small. Griffith University Emeritus Professor Colin Mackerras recently published an article in Pearls and Irritations titled “Lack of China capability can only do harm to society: Our current situation is a disgrace” (13 October 2025). In it, he wrote:
“If so few in Australia are prepared to take the trouble to understand China, we face a very bleak future.”
I couldn’t agree more!
Despite ongoing challenges and generally negative media coverage of China in the West, China continues to move steadily forward with sheer determination.
It is in Australia’s national interest to encourage more young people to study Chinese and to invest in universities and think tanks that support China-related research and scholarship. Strengthening people-to-people engagement and fostering collaborative efforts between the two countries is essential for building a better shared future.
