Hello and welcome to the final issue of This Week in History for the Spring 2025 semester! This week marks a special occasion, one that may even make the history books someday: This Week in History is changing hands.
That’s right. I, Ben, am moving on, and what better way to introduce Isabella, the new writer, than to dive into two unique perspectives on this week’s history! First, you’ll hear about some crazy Australian shenanigans, and then in true historical grandeur, we’ll take a trip to France with Isabella. Strap in; this’ll be a fun one.
Ben’s final event:
Australia has a remarkable history, one that I seem to rarely touch upon in this column. From early daring indigenous settlers who migrated from Southeast Asia to later prisoner colonies established by the British, the land of the emu has a history rich in action.
And yet, our history begins in more modern Australia with a group of people powerless to act on their own accord. The Aboriginals, descendants of the continent’s earliest settlers, faced the oppressive weight of emboldened European Australians bound to the British Empire in World War II.
Axis forces frequently occupied islands not far from the shores of Northern Australia, and all the while, fear and hatred pent up in the Australian ruling class began to be taken out on vulnerable communities.
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The backbone of the industry and agriculture of the country was the Aboriginal population. By 1945, these hard-working individuals were cast into menial roles, doing labor for low wages that was extremely physically intensive.
The workers dug bores for water wells and building infrastructure for the pastoral ranges along the western fringe of Australia and northern regions, like Pilbara.
It was there that large populations of Aboriginals worked on land owned by the “pastoral” class: wealthy white Australians who exploited the labor using their political domination of the local police forces. So cruel was this situation, that even in the excruciating heat of May 1945, labor continued.
The war was coming to an end, Germany would surrender at any point and Japan, though strong, was on the backfoot. Still, for laborers on the Bonney Downs station pastureland—many of whom called themselves marrngu—none of that mattered. Work had to be done; that was all they could do.
But as history shows, justice can take root and give people the courage to act. In early 1946, several marrngu laborers spoke with Don McLeod, a white contractor who was to lead them on their efforts to improve their conditions.
McLeod heard their concerns over the sense of powerlessness from being under the boot of a wealthy class who was nearly all powerful. The end result of these talks was the decision to act: They would lead a strike.
The marrngu began their action on “May Day,” a full sit-down strike taking place across Pilbara. Workers refused to work until wages were increased to livable numbers. All the while, they hoped that this economic strain would help McLeod’s efforts to negotiate with the Australian Native Affairs Department.
Instead, despite this setup, McLeod’s negotiations largely failed, and he would soon be in a bitter legal dispute ending in fines (and nearly jailtime). Amidst this defeat, police largely shut down the protests in many areas, while meager wage increases were enough to lure workers back. Anyone else who refused to return to work was evicted.
That said, I chose this event for this week, not because “May Day” ended in a defeat, but instead, because it sparked the three-year-long Pilbara strike.
Across the northern regions of Australia, marrngu acted for their rights and livelihood in any way they could, and this sit-down was just the beginning. Soon, individuals and communities would break down barriers, line up at the polls, and overwhelm those who sought to keep them down.
So, in an age where 24-hour boycotts seem difficult to conduct and community action seems to be stifled, let this history serve as evidence that every human act is powerful. You can change the course of history. I can only hope that you’ll act for what is good and to end injustices across the world.
Isabella’s first event:
“I am sent here by God, the King of Heaven, body for body, to drive you out of all France,” wrote Joan of Arc in her letter to the English, dated March 22, 1429.
Armed with not much more than faith and a prophecy, 18-year-old Jeanne d’Arc began her siege of Orleans this week in 1429. This battle marked the beginning of French victories in the Hundred Years’ War and Joan’s story, which would be told for hundreds of years to come.
At the beginning of her life, Joan of Arc was a typical teenage peasant girl: illiterate, devoutly Catholic and almost married off by her father. But unlike other girls her age, she began to hear voices that she thought were sent from God.
Joan’s France was rife with instability and violence from the multi-generational conflict with England. Rumors of a maiden who would save France had been circulating for years, especially after the Treaty of Troyes disinherited the dauphin Charles VII and placed England’s Henry V in line for the throne. Tales of her presence and piety began to circulate across the French countryside and eventually led her to meet with the disregarded dauphin with a promise to see him crowned king.
Against the advice of his advisors, Charles provided the devout young woman with a suit of armor, a horse, a page boy and some heralds; she was then sent on her way to meet with a convoy providing supplies to besieged Orleans.
Due to its location on the Loire River, the English and their allies, the Burgundians, seized the city of Orleans and completed their acquisition of Northern France in 1428. The city was known for its support of Charles VII and was considered France’s last stronghold in that region before being captured. Ultimately, driving the English out of the city was essential to prevent the conquering of central France and an unfavorable ending to the war.
After joining the convoy, Joan went on to lead several successful assaults against enemy forces, showcasing the bravery she was famed for. During the assault on Tourelles, she was injured by an arrow from a crossbow, but was reported to have taken it out herself and quickly rejoined the front lines, inspiring her fellow soldiers (If that isn’t badass, I don’t know what is.)
After her success at Orleans and other battles along the Loire River, the French were able to gain enough motivation to begin their campaign in Riems. Ultimately, Joan fulfilled her promise to see Charles VII crowned and was at his side when he was consecrated as the King of France in July 1429.
Unfortunately, Joan’s story doesn’t end happily. Captured by the Burgundians in a campaign in Compiegne, she was sent to the English and tried for witchcraft. Charles, the King she had done so much for, made no effort to negotiate her release and she was burned at the stake on March 31, 1491, at only 19 years old.
While this week marks the beginning of Joan of Arc’s story, it also marks the beginning of my tenure as the author for This Week in History! Part of the reason I chose to write about her for my first article is because of her inspiring dedication to fighting for what she believed in. Each time I read her letters to the English, I couldn’t help but feel a shiver down my spine at the sheer commitment she had to the French cause. At 18, I put myself in her shoes and wonder if I would be able to face the swords of Anglo-Burgundian soldiers like she did.