ANTHONY SHARWOOD’s Kosciuszko: The Incredible Life of the Man Behind the Mountain is far more than a biography of an extraordinary historical figure. It invites readers to join him on a journey to uncover who Kosciuszko was, why his name sits atop Australia’s highest mountain, and whether it should remain there.
The biography begins with a simple yet intriguing question: “Who was the Kosciuszko fella?”
Kosciuszko is an enigmatic figure to everyone but the citizens of his native Poland. His life was defined by his unwavering commitment to justice and human rights. In Poland, he led the 1794 Kosciuszko Uprising against Russian domination and advocated for social reforms. He fought to end Polish serfdom. He dedicated his American estate to the education and emancipation of African American slaves, although his will was never fully executed.
Yet what sets this biography apart is its integration of Kosciuszko’s story with the contemporary debate over the naming of Mount Kosciuszko. Kosciuszko never set foot on the Australian continent. The mountain was named in 1840, long after his death, by Polish explorer Paul Strzelecki (1797-1873), who was inspired by Kosciuszko’s ideals, and the book is as much about Australia and its Indigenous people as it is about Kosciuszko himself. It offers a richly layered exploration of history, identity and the power of names.
Sharwood highlights the cultural significance of the Snowy Mountains for the Ngarigo people. He explores their ancient customs, their displacement during European colonisation, and their perspectives on the future of the mountain’s name. By engaging with traditional owners, such as Ngarigo elder Cheryl Davison, Sharwood adds depth to the narrative, situating the debate within broader questions of reconciliation and historical justice.
Sharwood refrains from providing definitive answers. Instead, he encourages readers to reflect on the layers of history and meaning embedded in the mountain. His passion for the Australian High Country, showcased in previous works From Snow to Ash and The Brumby Wars, enriches his exploration of Mount Kosciuszko. His vivid descriptions of the landscape, combined with his deep respect for its cultural significance, create a powerful sense of place that anchors the narrative.
Despite its many strengths, the book does have its limitations. Sharwood’s admiration for Kosciuszko occasionally verges on romanticisation, portraying him as an almost flawless hero. Kosciuszko’s will, for example, is celebrated as a bold statement of equality, but the practical challenges that prevented its execution receive less attention. Similarly, the book’s road-trip format, while engaging, can feel disjointed, with some of the transitions between historical and contemporary narratives lacking fluidity.
The book nevertheless succeeds in its primary goal. It illuminates the life and legacy of a remarkable figure, while prompting readers to consider the broader implications of his story. In celebrating Kosciuszko, Sharwood invites Australians to reflect on their own values and history. The parallels between Kosciuszko’s life and the Australian ethos – resilience, fairness, unity, the championing of the underdog – underscore why his name, carried by Australia’s highest mountain, continues to inspire. By framing Kosciuszko within this cultural narrative, Sharwood not only honours the man himself, but affirms the enduring relevance of these ideals in contemporary Australian society.
Whether or not Kosciuszko’s name remains on Australia’s highest mountain, his legacy as a champion of human rights and a symbol of resistance will endure.
Darius von Guttner Sporzynski is researcher, historian at the Australian Catholic University in Sydney.
This is an abridged version of an article published in The Conversation and reproduced under a Creative Commons licence.