300 stand in defiance

Five years ago today-5 September 2020-marked a turning point in the history of Melbourne. For those who lived through it, more so than in any other Australian city, the intensity of our COVID-19 experience has etched itself into the fabric of our collective being. As much as we may wish to move on or forget, the memory persists. Even now, Melburnians-regardless of where we stood, whether as anti-lockdown crusaders, 'I stand with Dan' loyalists, or somewhere in between-continue to mark time in everyday speech with phrases like 'pre-COVID' or 'since COVID.'

But this day, in particular, deserves more than passing reflection. It warrants the kind of historical gravity we reserve for moments that alter destiny. I would compare it, without exaggeration, to the stand at Thermopylae in 480 BC-not for its violence, but for its symbolism: a confrontation between an overwhelming invading power and individual resistance, between fear and resolve, between the ordinary and the mythic.

Melbourne 2020

Saturday 5 September marked Day 101 of complete societal lockdown-originally announced on 31 March as a two-week pause to 'slow the curve' of an unknown virus. The public's initial compliance had been near-total. And so emboldened by the popular response, the Victorian government was pursuing a new, myopic goal: eradication of the virus at any cost. For millions of ordinary people, weeks of house arrest became months. The suffering grew-inhumane, illogical, and increasingly unnecessary. The WHO had already warned that lockdowns should only ever be a last resort.

On 1 September, thirteen senior Victorian doctors issued an open letter to Premier Andrews, urging him to end the harsh restrictions, which they argued were now evidently, clearly more harmful than the virus itself. But the government wasn't listening. In desperation, members of the public called for a protest to bring the lockdown to an end-'Freedom Day'-on 5 September.

The gathering site chosen was the Shrine of Remembrance. Built to honour the diggers of WWI, and now a memorial to all Australians who've served in war, the Shrine was designed to mimic the classical Greek form-its Doric columns and solemn symmetry echoing the valour and civic duty of ancient warriors. A fitting backdrop in humanity's enduring fight against tyranny.

Sparta 480 BC

Sparta, alongside Athens and the other Greek city-states, faced an existential threat from an invading force exceeding 150,000 men-the largest army the ancient world had ever assembled-led by King Xerxes of Persia. Driven by imperial ambition and a desire to avenge his father Darius the Great's earlier defeat at Marathon, Xerxes was determined to subjugate Greece and complete the conquest that had eluded his dynasty.

King Leonidas of Sparta understood that no force within his command could hope to halt the vast army Xerxes had assembled. Yet tyranny, however overwhelming, demanded resistance. He selected 300 of his most seasoned warriors-men who had already fathered sons, ensuring their lineage would endure-and marched north to confront the Persians at Thermopylae, where the enemy would be forced to funnel through a narrow coastal pass. Their stand was not a bid for victory, but a deliberate act of defiance, intended to inspire and unify the fractured Greek city-states in the face of imperial conquest.

It is worth reflecting on what was truly at stake in this moment, even to impact our present history. Athens harboured the embryonic forms of the philosophical and civic traditions that would later shape modern democratic thought. Had Persia triumphed, these nascent institutions might have been extinguished before they had the chance to mature. For a vivid and spectacular representation of the defiant stand taken by Leonidas and his elite Spartan warriors at Thermopylae-now enshrined as part of our Western foundational legend-I recommend Zack Snyder's 2006 epic film 300.

300 stand in defiance

Melbourne's proposed 'Freedom Day' arrived. But under Stage 4 lockdown, gatherings were strictly forbidden. Any step outside of the home was discouraged-holding a protest sign was treated as tantamount to sedition. The Victorian government made its stance unmistakable, flooding mainstream media with images of riot police in new military-style gear, vowing that any protester who approached the Shrine would be swiftly removed before their feet touched the ground. Their threats went beyond legal, they were physical.

Three days earlier saw the arrest of Zoe Buhler, a pregnant mother in regional Ballarat, who was handcuffed in her home by Victoria Police -still dressed in her pink pyjamas. The image was jarring: a domestic scene transformed into a demonstration of political power. Her alleged crime? Criticising the government on Facebook and attempting to organise a local rally. The charges were later dropped, confirming that public gatherings were not restricted in her region. Yet a message of zero tolerance towards public dissent had already been sent.

Complicating matters, the Melbourne protest organisers agreed at the last moment to officially cancel the event after the Victorian government promised that its 'Roadmap' to reopening-due for release the following day, Sunday 6 September-would soon end lockdowns, provided the protest was called off. Needless to say, the government reneged on its promise, and this lockdown continued for another 52 days, near to the end of October 2020. In response, all future protests organized by 'Melbourne Freedom Rallies' prominently declared: 'This protest will not be cancelled or postponed.'

The cancellation may have been poorly communicated-or simply ignored. And the dystopian footage of Zoe Buhler's arrest, having gone viral worldwide, handcuffed in her home for a Facebook post, had surely ignited further outrage.

So: how many would dare show up at the Shrine? If none, it would confirm what Premier Andrews was attempting to make plain-that in this extended crisis, he had assumed total political control, installing himself as emperor over democratic process, science, reason, public dissent, and every aspect of human rights. However to my relief, as seen in video from the live-stream, and also reported through government media, 300 courageous Melburnians arrived in defiance of the Premier's threats, and saved our city from such a fate.

The turning point towards victory

History may not repeat, but it rhymes. At Thermopylae, King Leonidas and his 300 Spartans held the pass for three days before being overwhelmed. Their sacrifice stalled the Persian advance, buying precious time for the Greek city-states to prepare-culminating in the Hellenic victory at Plataea the following year. Yet the true power of Leonidas' defiance lay not in strategy alone, but in symbolic choreography: a performance of resistance designed to inspire. It became legend. The idea that a small band could hold the line against an empire-against overwhelming odds-became a foundational myth of democratic identity.

For the 300 Melbourne rally protesters, the goal of ending lockdowns was not achieved that day-not even close. Continued lockdowns in Victoria persisted well into the winter of 2021. Yet 5 September 2020 marked a turning point in the protest movement's momentum. As with Leonidas at Thermopylae, the outcome was never in doubt-but the meaning lay in the stand itself. What mattered that day was not victory, but the refusal to yield quietly. Melburnians became galvanised. At that site of reckoning, their defiance sparked a movement that could never be cancelled or postponed.

The protest movement swelled, as more and more saw the need to push back against government overreach. Another pivotal moment came on 18 November 2021, when the Herald Sun published an article entitled, Time to put away tear gas, Cops want legal protests. In it, senior officers expressed a preference for facilitating lawful, peaceful demonstrations over continuing their aggressive dispersal tactics-signalling both a tactical shift and a symbolic recalibration in their stance towards protests.

A legend that echoes through the centuries

Filmmaker Topher Field, known for his 2021 documentary Battleground Melbourne, had been a constant voice at Melbourne's rallies, dating back to the very first, modest anti-lockdown protest on ANZAC Day, 25 April 2020. Now with the tyranny of lockdowns vanquished, the freedoms of speech and assembly regained, on 20 November 2021 at the Flagstaff Gardens in Melbourne, he stood before a sea of patriots stretching beyond sight in every direction-a crowd as vast as Xerxes' army, surpassing even 150,000.

When authority overreaches, when responsible governance devolves into rule by force rather than consent, then duty falls to the people to restore balance. Invoking the timeless moment when free citizens must rise-not in pursuit of power, but in defence of principle, Topher articulates a defiant civic ethic rooted in personal responsibility, inecho of Leonidas' legendary stand:

I along with many courageous Victorians tried to save our city, Melbourne, as it became the most locked down city on earth. Our love of freedom compels us to stand, unbending, no matter the cost.

Daniel Andrews has abused us, threatened us, sent armed agents of the state to some of our homes. And yet, here we stand! Daniel Andrews has arrested us, imprisoned some of us, and sent men to shoot [rubber bullets] at us! And here we stand!

Future generations are watching us. They are reading about this moment in a history book, and they will go to you and they will say, 'What did you do?' I am proud to say that I risked everything. And will accept nothing less than freedom! Freedom for me, freedom for my children, and freedom for us all!