LETTER FROM AUSTRALIA: Most towns emerged in particular places because they were close to good animal fodder, on a river, or by the sea. Canberra exists because Sydney and Melbourne could not agree on which of them should be the capital of a newly independent Australia, writes Padraig Collins.
When Australia became a federated nation on January 1st, 1901, the country's new constitution directed that the capital should occupy its own territory in New South Wales, at least 100 miles from Sydney.
At first, existing townships were considered, and in 1904 the Seat of Government Act named Dalgety as the capital. This village, on the banks of the Snowy River, had a short brush with fame.
In 1908 the Act was repealed and a year later the Seat of Government Acceptance Act replaced it with a new city to be built in bushland three hours south-west of Sydney. The American-born Minister for Home Affairs, Mr King O'Malley, said the new capital would be "the finest capital city in the world". At the time, there were 1,714 people living on farms in the district. They were slightly outnumbered by the 1,762 horses and vastly outnumbered by the 224,764 local area sheep.
A Chicago architect, 35-year-old Mr Walter Burley Griffin, won the international design competition for the Australian Federal Capital in 1911. His wife, Ms Marion Mahoney Griffin, the world's first licensed female architect, drafted all the drawings for his entry.
After much internal debate and a change of government (which in the meantime sat in Melbourne), construction began in 1913. The onset of the first World War further delayed things and the federal government did not finally sit in Canberra until 1927.
That initial parliament house was a temporary solution, though, and the permanent house was not inaugurated until 1988, on the bicentenary of European settlement. In 1989, the area was granted self-government, despite its residents having previously rejected this in a referendum. Prior to self-government, federal parliament administered the area. It is often said that self-government was imposed because federal senators were tired of having to look after Canberra's wheelie-bins.
The capital is regularly dismissed with one word, "boring", by many Australians, the vast majority of whom have never been there. It may not be the most exciting place in the world - legend has it that its lack of pubs is due to Mr Griffin, a tee-totaller, not allowing for them in his designs - but it takes more than a lack of liquor to make a place boring.
Many resent Canberra's very existence as the seat of power. Epitomising this begrudging view in 1997, Mr John Stone, a former treasury secretary and National Party senator, said: "The luxurious standard of services to which ACT residents have become accustomed simply cannot be afforded."
It must be one of the most unloved capitals in the world. Even the Prime Minister, Mr John Howard, spends less than half his time there - he has two official residences, The Lodge in Canberra and Kirribilli House on Sydney Harbour. Unlike his predecessors, Mr Howard chooses to spend most of his time looking across to the Opera House.
On my first visit to Canberra four years ago, I was surprised to find that it seemed to be a perfectly designed modern city. The National Gallery is wonderful, the War Memorial is one of the most powerfully moving places I have ever been to and Old Parliament House offers a fascinating insight into the birth of a nation.
The streets and avenues are spacious and spotlessly clean, traffic is light, and with so many government employees among its 300,000 residents, the economy is always pretty good. The quality of housing is generally of a better standard than the Australian average, and each suburb is separated from the next by bushland.
Mr Griffin's designs were influenced by the City Beautiful movement, which sought to promote the opposite of the sprawling messes that a lot of post-Industrial Revolution cites had become.
His plan stated that none of the hills in the area should be built on. Every new householder was given 10 trees and 40 shrubs for free. The idea was that people anywhere in the capital could look out and see natural beauty.
The plan worked - the views are as spectacular as you get in any inland city.
But of course it is those very views, the bush and pine plantations, that fuelled Australia's worst city bush fires. The well-planned, green city is now being seen by some, blessed with the gift of 20-20 hindsight, as a disaster that was waiting to happen.
People are looking for scapegoats and some are using the current bush fire disaster to further their own anti-Canberra agenda.
Some commentators have even called for the area to be pared back to the bare city centre, and that the rest be handed back to NSW control. They point to the constitutional provision which requires only that it extend over 260 square kilometres, not the 2,428 square kilometres is presently occupies.
But that really is just semantic pedantry. What happened to Canberra was appalling, but a knee-jerk reaction such as bowdlerising its border would only succeed in turning it into the soulless city its detractors claim it already is.
Right now, Canberra needs to be supported, not dismissed.