The risks go far beyond cost overruns and construction delays. Australia now needs to keep its ageing Collins-class submarines operational for at least another decade, establish an entirely new nuclear industry, train specialised crews, acquire used Virginia-class submarines from the United States and eventually build British-designed SSN-AUKUS vessels in Adelaide.

Yet America is struggling to produce enough submarines for its own navy, Britain’s shipbuilding industry is in “disarray”, and US law allows an American president to withhold submarines if their transfer is contrary to US military interests. Australia could spend billions reorganising its defence forces and expanding American facilities, only to discover that the promised submarines will never be available.

This is what makes AUKUS more than a terrible defence procurement program: it’s an enormous transfer of control away from Australia.

At least the cancelled French submarine agreement gave us a clearer delivery path and greater national autonomy. AUKUS has replaced that relative certainty with a grand bet on American production, British capacity and geopolitical assumptions that might end up looking completely different by the 2040s.

From 2027, American nuclear-powered submarines are expected to rotate through HMAS Stirling in Western Australia, supported by extensive infrastructure, contractors and thousands of US personnel and dependants, and this will be a de facto permanent American military base on Australian soil. And reversing this will end up becoming politically and economically almost impossible.

Okinawa offers a warning about how foreign military infrastructure can become deeply embedded despite sustained community opposition. Of course, Western Australia is not Okinawa, but similar questions arise about housing pressure, public services, environmental contamination, nuclear safety, military accidents and the conduct of foreign personnel.

There is also a bigger danger: if US military actions are launched from Australian territory during a conflict with one of our neighbours, can an Australian government genuinely refuse to participate? And would HMAS Stirling then become a military target?

Despite the extraordinary financial, environmental and national-security consequences, there has been no meaningful democratic debate. Bipartisan support has inoculated AUKUS from proper scrutiny, while its full costs and obligations will emerge long after the politicians who have created this mess have left political life.

By then, Australia will discover that it hasn’t acquired greater security at all, but locked future generations into an expensive military structure they never approved and will never be able to escape from.

The former prime minister Malcolm Turnbull’s latest offerings in the AUKUS debate have once again revealed the big contradiction within Australia’s most expensive defence project ever: we are committing hundreds of billions of dollars to an ethereal submarine program which essentially will remain outside of Australian control and create a pathway for more US intervention in our military and political affairs.

Appearing before an independent public inquiry into AUKUS – established by a group of former MPs, retired military and naval officers, leading strategists and academics, human rights lawyers and union leaders, primarily because the deal continues to be shrouded in secrecy despite the incredibly high stakes and massive cost – Turnbull described the agreement as a “colossal mistake” and warned that it could leave Australia without an effective submarine capability during the 2030s.

His criticisms weren’t just directed at the extraordinary cost of the project – $368 billion – but the assumption that the United States and Britain will have the capacity and political will to deliver what Australia has been promised.

Under this deal, Australia is expected to operate eight nuclear-powered submarines by the 2050s, but this will depend on an unlikely sequence of events: first of all, extending the life of the ageing Collins-class fleet, training Australian personnel on allied submarines, acquiring American Virginia-class submarines at some point during the 2030s, and eventually constructing the British-designed SSN–AUKUS submarines in Adelaide.

Each of these stages has its own risks, but the immediate problem is the capacity of American production. The US needs its own shipyards to produce an average of 2.3 submarines each year to replace its own fleet but its current output is around 1.3 boats, a shortfall of one boat.

Also, US law requires its president to authorise that the transfer of submarines to Australia won’t affect America’s capabilities. This essentially means that the Australian delivery of its own submarines isn’t guaranteed just because our government has signed an agreement and began transferring copious amounts of money in 2022. If the US decides that its own operational requirements are the priority – and why wouldn’t they – Australia will end up waiting indefinitely for submarines that will never arrive.

The Albanese government’s decision to acquire three in-service Virginia-class submarines, rather than the proposed combination of two used boats and one newly built vessel, is essentially an acknowledgement of those constraints, although no one in government is prepared to admit to this, with Defence Minister Richard Marles presenting the change as a “good news” story – a far simpler arrangement that should reduce costs and ease pressure on American shipyards.

Yet it also means that all three of Australia’s initial nuclear-powered submarines will have already been used by the US Navy – and who knows for how long – which means that their age, remaining operational life and eventual maintenance requirements will depend totally on decisions made in the White House, and at the whim of a future US President.

Supporters of AUKUS argue – and most of those are within government – that focusing on today’s production rate ignores the billions of dollars being invested in American shipyards and the time available before the first transfer, currently expected in the early 2030s.

Australia has already committed US$3 billion towards the US submarine industrial base, while Australian personnel are already training inside the American military. Sure, there’s a chance that production may improve significantly before the submarine transfers are due, but that’s not a guarantee, and Australia has limited power to enforce an outcome in its favour anyway. The revised arrangement might end up making the delivery easier, but it doesn’t remove that condition that American military requirements will always come first at every single occasion.

Turnbull has also raised serious doubts about Britain’s capacity to deliver the SSN–AUKUS design on which Australia’s longer-term fleet depends. Describing British naval shipbuilding as an “industry in disarray”, he argued that Britain may struggle to produce enough submarines for its own navy, let alone sustain a joint program that’s also meant to supply Australia.

Critics of Turnbull are suggesting that his criticisms are based around the cancellation of the French submarines deal that he set up while he was Prime Minister – and that might be one of his driving motivations – but with hindsight, we can already see that the deal with France and the Naval Group was far superior, cheaper, and had more certainty attached to it.

A silent US invasion

Even if the promised submarines do eventually arrive – and that is a big if – AUKUS is already producing something far more politically significant than any issue related to submarines: an ongoing American military presence in Australia, and that’s something that the public has never been asked about.

From 2027, the Submarine Rotational Force–West program is expected to bring up to five foreign submarines to HMAS Stirling on Garden Island, just off the coast of Perth. Different ministers keep emphasising that these vessels will rotate through an Australian-owned base rather than be permanently stationed there, but it’s an argument that doesn’t hold much substance when we look at all the administrative structures, human resources, and the services are being developed to remain on a more permanent basis.

In May this year, the US Navy formally established Naval Support Activity Stirling in Perth, stating that this exists to support “the fleet, family and fighter”, and its relocation material provides information for American military personnel and civilian employees moving to Western Australia, including where to find the best local schools, support for housing, healthcare and recreation facilities for a “positive family life”. That doesn’t seem to be a temporary arrangement, as the government keeps insisting.

By around 2030 – just four years away – the American presence associated with submarine operations will include up to 2,300 service members, civilian employees, contractors and dependants. This isn’t just to support an occasional naval visit: it’s the development of a substantial American military community with the administrative system that required to sustain it for a long-term or permanent time.

Defence Industry Minister Pat Conroy briefly added to the confusion last week – deliberate double-speak or otherwise – by calling the arrangement only a “five-year commitment”, before also suggesting it would be an “enduring element” of AUKUS. It’s either one or the other – it can’t be both – but the government is using a wide range of weasel words – “rotation”, “access”, “support activity” and “enduring presence” – to avoid the more politically unpalatable description of what is actually taking place here.

Of course, the government is correct when it says that HMAS Stirling remains Australian territory and it will be an Australian naval base. But that doesn’t mean that the United States won’t have de facto control over these operations, in the same way that it controls bases in Cuba, Denmark, the Pacific and Indian Ocean regions, and Pine Gap in Central Australia.

And these are the question ministers continue to avoid. Who will have the real control over this base? Could Australia realistically deny American submarines access to HMAS Stirling during a future conflict that it does not support? Could it refuse the use of Australian maintenance, communications or intelligence infrastructure for these purposes? What if Australia takes a different position to the US over a confrontation with Taiwan or other country within the South China Sea region?

Before suggestions are made that it could never come to this, Australia should look to Okinawa islands in Japan for an indication of where this could all be headed: for sure, Western Australia is not under American occupation – although some might like to dispute this – and the scale, history and concentration of US bases in Okinawa are vastly different.

However, the experience of Okinawa shows how a foreign military presence initially justified by a post-war strategy can become deeply entrenched and extraordinarily difficult for local communities – or even a national government – to change. Residents in Okinawa have spent decades dealing with aircraft noise, military accidents, environmental contamination, unauthorised land use and crimes committed by US military personnel. Could these same issues be experienced by the people of Perth? There’s no guarantee that they would but if they ever did, there’d be very little that local communities could do about it.

The surrounding areas of HMAS Stirling – Rockingham and Safety Bay – will be expected to absorb all the additional demand for housing, schools, roads, healthcare and other public services. Some local businesses – mainly hotels and restaurants – might benefit from the increased defence spending and presence, but experience shows that those gains are rarely distributed evenly. There are many legitimate concerns about infrastructure, safety and environmental issues that any community should be entitled to ask before a large and enduring foreign military presence arrives on this level, but it’s almost as though governments have forgotten to ask or don’t even care about, because it’s all a forgone conclusion.

We also have to remember that AUKUS is not occurring in isolation. It’s building on the joint intelligence facility at Pine Gap, expanded access for US aircraft across northern Australia, the deployment of US Marines in Darwin, and a higher level of integrated military planning.

Of course, Australia has hosted these US forces and facilities for decades – Pine Gap was opened up in 1970 – but this AUKUS deal takes the relationship into a new phase by making Australia’s most important future military capacities dependent on high-level integration with the United States, as though the two military forces will be indistinguishable. And this is all taking place with almost no parliamentary debate. This is the price Australia pays for a bipartisan understanding between Labor and the Coalition, which has insulated Parliament from any form of scrutiny on these decisions, and left the public in the dark.

The submarines – whether they arrive or not – are almost irrelevant, as is the large sums of money that are being wasted here. The even bigger danger is that AUKUS is slowly and silently reorganising Australian territory, infrastructure and strategic policy around the needs of the United States way before the public has been given an honest account of what the consequences are.

By the time Australians are finally able to see the full effects of AUKUS, most of it will be too deeply embedded to change anything at all – just ask the people of Okinawa – and that’s why every political leader who has been involved with the charade of AUKUS should be condemned and hounded out of office.

A US base by any other name

The arrival of up to 2,300 US naval personnel, civilian employees, contractors and their family members, should finally end the political charade that HMAS Stirling in Perth is only hosting a short-term submarine rotation. The US Navy has established “Naval Support Activity Stirling” to provide housing, healthcare, childcare and recreation for this personnel, which suggests that it’s not creating the infrastructure of a brief visit or short-term holiday; it’s more along the lines of a permanent community.

The region of Rockingham will need to soak up additional pressure on housing, schools, roads and public services, while the US will gain a strategically valuable submarine hub underwritten by Australian taxpayers – which, of course, we were never asked about. Yet the Prime Minister Anthony Albanese and Defence Minister Richard Marles continue to hide behind duplicitous language: the submarines are only “rotational”, the base will remain “Australian” – whatever that means in this day and age – and every decision that’s being made here somehow keeps our national sovereignty intact.

The Minister for Defence Industry Pat Conroy suggested this arrangement would only last “five years”, but quickly retracted that, and said that it an “enduring element” of American military presence in Australia. So, what are we meant to believe? Perhaps we should speak to the people of Okinawa, where 80 years of US surveillance and military operations on the islands has resulted in many social and crime issues, toxic pollution, noise disruption, poor economic and business opportunities for local Okinawans, and completely taken over by American interests.

The central question isn’t whether Australia technically owns HMAS Stirling and whether it’s on Australian soil – Okinawa is Japanese territory but a de facto subordination to the US – but whether we could refuse to partake in any American operation during a regional war on our doorstep. And given the maniacal behaviour of the current US regime, it’s not a fanciful as it sounds.

This AUKUS deal – which we know very little about but will soon be seeing the physical evidence of it – is gradually linking up Australian territory, infrastructure and military planning to the strategies of the United States – which would also include Israel – and it’s taking place without any parliamentary debate, without a public mandate or honest account of the risks. It’s all just being rolled out, whether we like it or not, and this is the real danger.

First, they went for the gangsters and then everyone else

The Minns government in New South Wales insists that the surveillance powers that it wants to introduce is all about targeting organised crime. We’ve heard this story before: identify a nebulous and frightening enemy, promise exceptional powers to combat this enemy, and dismiss anyone who asks the awkward questions as being “soft on crime”.

Under these laws, police can obtain a Digital Evidence Access Order, compelling anyone to provide their PIN, password or biometric access to a lawfully seized device, bypassing the conventional warrant that’s currently required. And refusing to do this, could end up in jail time. If you decide to avoid this jail time by giving up your passwords, then once the device is unlocked, forensics such as those supplied by Israeli company Cellebrite can extract everything on this device: photographs, long-deleted material, location histories, contacts, metadata and any form of communications that has left a digital footprint over many years.

This NSW government has a habit of doing this. Alongside access to toll-camera images and adding NSW driver-licence photographs to a national face-matching data system, this represents a substantial development of state-led surveillance of its own citizens.

The question here is not about organised criminals use encrypted phones – clearly they do. The issue is whether suspicions about organised crime should create a gateway to state overreach in the digital domain, and whether there are enough legal protections in place once police discover how convenient these powers are, which they can then use against anyone.

History suggests that once these powers are in place, governments refuse to give them up, unless they’re found to be unconstitutional – as was the case with the Public Assembly Restriction Declaration to silence pro-Palestine action. Governments always make the claim that they’re building surveillance systems for the worst offenders in society, but then quietly use these systems to silence protesters, journalists and anyone else they don’t like. This is another example of that.

Labor’s betting on doing nothing

Gambling advertising legislation is providing another test of whether the Albanese government governs for the public interest or for the vested interests, and just like every other test, this one will be provided in the favour of the latter.

The current bill in Parliament will restrict inducements, promotional odds, stadium advertising and betting logos on uniforms, while allowing commercial television to broadcast up to three gambling advertisements an hour between 6am and 8.30pm, which will still end up being 45 advertisements during that time.

This is well short of the comprehensive recommendations proposed by the late Labor MP Peta Murphy which, incidentally, received unanimous parliamentary support. And now, instead of working towards these recommendations, the government is considering shelving the legislation completely rather than accepting reasonable amendments from the Greens, Coalition and crossbench.

The familiar excuses for the government’s recalcitrance will then be offered – sporting clubs, netball teams, and the commercial media depend on betting revenue, and if the revenue were to disappear, many jobs would be lost and industries would collapse. But this is exactly the problem. Bookmakers finance recreational and professional sport, advertising sustains the broadcasters, gambling taxes add substantial amounts to state budgets, and political access is opened up to the gambling lobby to preserve this entire nefarious arrangement.

It’s not a conspiracy: just follow the money. The evidence is there in plain sight. The government needs to decide whether gambling harm is a public-health crisis or just another revenue stream that will continue once all these issues are managed through political spin and making it look like something is being done, without doing anything about it. At the moment, Labor’s public position is that reform is absolutely essential, provided nobody too powerful is seriously affected.

Migration as the convenient scapegoat

The Immigration Minister Tony Burke’s postponed his migration speech last week, and this suggests there’s a lot of internal dissent within the government about this package. The proposed restrictions will affect temporary residents, working holidaymakers, family migration, the work rights of asylum seekers and access to appeals, which apparently are all measures designed to prove that Labor is “doing something” about housing and cost-of-living issues.

Of course, migration does affect demand for housing and services, but there are many other issues that do contribute, most notably poor and inconsistent planning and building regulations across all three levels of government: federal, state/territory, and local council. But doing something about this requires hard work and patience – better to blame the migrant, instead of doing the hard work that would provide more meaningful solutions in the medium-to-longer-term period.

Australia’s continuing housing crisis has been created over many decades of underinvestment in public housing, massive tax concessions for property investors, privatisation and neoliberalism, weak planning and governments relying on the market to supply homes that it has no real incentive to make affordable. Migrants didn’t create insecure work, suppress wages, privatise essential services or neglect transport and social infrastructure, it was the fault of successive governments.

Business groups, of course, will defend migration because it supplies labour, consumers and results in economic growth. Their self-interest needs to be scrutinised too: employers should not be permitted to use temporary workers as a low-paid, easily controlled option for training and paying local workers a fair wage.

But the biggest issue is that this is all coming from the rhetoric of One Nation – the party that holds only two seats in federal parliament, while the government holds 94 seats. The greater political danger is that Labor adopts Pauline Hanson’s simplistic banter while offering a more palatable version of what she’s proposing.

Once migration becomes the excuse for every economic failure, the onus on governments to produce meaningful solutions falls away. Burke’s eventual announcement will reveal whether Labor can define migration in the national interest, or if the tail is wagging the dog, and it’s now One Nation that’s developing immigration policy, even though its relevance within federal parliament is insignificant.

The younger Albanese visited Palestinian refugee camps, challenged Labor’s courtship of the wealthy and questioned Australia’s dependence on the United States. As Prime Minister, however, he has severely restricted internal debate on Palestine, entrenched AUKUS, resisted stronger gambling advertising reforms, protected gas exporters from substantial taxation and treated modest interventions in supermarket pricing as dangerous “communism”.

His government’s enthusiasm for AI data centres follows the same process: Australia supplies the land, energy, water and public support while multinational technology corporations retain the data, control and profits.

Even with 94 seats in the House of Representatives, Labor appears to be more responsive to corporate interests, media pressure and One Nation’s immigration agenda than to its own membership or traditional Labor values. This is not just a story about one politician abandoning his principles: it exposes a political system in which governments facilitate the powerful interests within society, while presenting caution, delay and symbolic legislation as responsible leadership. Supporters in Labor’s first term insisted the real Albanese finally would emerge during his second term. Perhaps he already has – and power without purpose is all that remains.

Antisemitism needs to be confronted, and Jewish students should be protected from harassment and abuse. But education should develop independent judgement, competitive historical understandings and critical thinking – not prescribe an approved political position on Israel and Palestine. Holocaust education already exists in Australian schools; the danger arises when criticism of Israeli government policy, alleged war crimes, occupation, apartheid or Zionism becomes blurred with genuine antisemitism.

At the centre of this debate is the highly controversial IHRA definition of antisemitism and the risk that its institutional adoption could restrict teachers, students, academics and protesters. Australian law permits criticism of states and political ideologies, yet this might soon end if the Israel lobby ends up having its way.

Who determines what children are taught at school? Will participation in Segal’s curriculum be compulsory? And can Australia combat antisemitism without turning classrooms into the battlefields in a new phase of the culture wars?

The Royal Commission on Antisemitism and Social Cohesion commenced as an examination of prejudice and “social cohesion” – the Prime Minister’s most favourite phrase – but is now developing into an attempt to hijack Australian educational institutions and redefine acceptable political debate, according to the diktats of a very small, powerful and influence group.

The Special Envoy to Combat Antisemitism, Jillian Segal, is pushing for antisemitism educational curricular of a particular kind to be introduced into early childhood programs, all the way through to higher education. It’s an outrageous overreach and should be resisted at every opportunity.

In response to the Bondi Beach shootings in December 2025, Prime Minister Anthony Albanese announced the Antisemitism Education Taskforce to be chaired by David Gonski. It’s unclear how an education taskforce was meant to deter radicalised and potential shooters in the future, but it covers every level of the education sector: early childhood education and care, primary and secondary schools, universities and the wider higher-education sector.

This was the first part of access to the educational system, but the reach of this is extraordinary – curriculum, teacher training, school regulation and university policy within a national structure, essentially dedicating itself to one specific form of discrimination, and ignoring all the others.

Segal has also announced the establishment of the National Centre for Education Against Antisemitism, an organisation that will be independent of government, but able to influence government and education departments, and will deliver training and educational materials to governments, schools, businesses, law-enforcement agencies and not-for-profit organisations.

In quite an audacious statement, Segal told the Royal Commission that education needs to reach younger age groups because younger children are more open to changing their views, while university-aged students were more likely to be fixed in their opinions. This is really troubling, and sounds more like an adventure in proselytising: children’s willingness to absorb new ideas should be based on a balanced education and the ability to develop critical thinking, not force-fed with the ideas coming in from Zionist zealots, who are intolerant of any criticisms of the state of Israel.

While this curriculum hasn’t been developed and is yet to be implemented, the real question is why this is being allowed to proceed without any serious political or public scrutiny.

The problem of political advocacy within education

It could be argued that all state-based education and curriculum verges on propaganda, as it defines the acceptable behaviours and thinking for future generations, based on what our educational leaders believe is in their best interests and that of society. But at least in modern educational settings, critical thinking has replaced the style of old-fashioned rote learning, enabling students to acquire skills that will allow them to become more adaptable in an ever-changing world. Segal’s proposals would do the opposite.

Holocaust education already has a place in Australian schools, mainly within secondary history, particularly in Years 9 and 10, as part of the study of the Second World War, Nazism, racism and genocide, while some schools do include age-appropriate material in Years 5 and 6.

There’s no serious argument being put forward against the teaching of the Holocaust as a major historical event, and there’s no question that students should understand the rise of Nazism, the systematic persecution and murder of millions of Jewish people and the political and institutional conditions that made those crimes possible, to ensure that it never happens again.

But Segal’s proposals go far beyond the historical understandings of the Holocaust: it includes Jewish history and civilisation, the positive contributions of Jewish people to Australia, and what she describes as modern forms of Jew hatred, including anti-Zionism, online conspiracies, and political hostility directed towards Israel.

And it’s at this point where her proposals move from education about discrimination – and only the one form of discrimination – and into the field of propaganda and agitprop. Segal wants to include the International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance definition of antisemitism, which includes making statements that describe Israel as a racist project, comparing Israeli policies as fascist or Nazism, or denouncing Zionism.

The IHRA definition has been criticised by many legal scholars, human-rights organisations, Jewish academics and civil-liberties advocates, precisely because it includes anti-Zionism and criticism of Israel within its definition of antisemitism, and potentially criminalises the act of speaking out against the actions of Israel in Gaza and West Bank, which presumably would include accusing Israel of genocide, apartheid and war crimes.

If this type of framework is embedded in schools, universities and professional training, students and teachers – and even toddlers – could be placed in the position of having to interpret discussion of Israel and Palestine through the lens of educational bodies that are committed explicitly to Zionism and the defence of Israel. This is unacceptable, totally.

Israel is accused of severe breaches of international law in Gaza and the occupied Palestinian territories, and has been for some time. Its government has overseen the devastating genocide, ecocide and scholasticide of Gaza, the displacement of most of its population and restrictions on food, medicine and humanitarian assistance.

Israeli settlements continue to expand across the occupied West Bank – and this has been determined as an illegal act by the world community – while Palestinian communities are displaced, their homes demolished and their land absorbed. This didn’t commence on 7 October 2023: this has been the story of Israel’s behaviour ever since it was formed in 1948, if not before.

These are not just abstract disputes or religious disagreements that date back thousands of years: these are modern-day questions about military power, occupation, dispossession, human rights and American interference. Students and academics – and toddlers in early education settings – should be free to analyse these issues without having to demonstrate that their conclusions comply with a bizarre and ill-defined definition of antisemitism.

There’s also a question of proportionality to this debate. Australia had approximately 4.16 million students across all of its schools in 2025. Jewish students comprise around 0.4 per cent of the national school population, and a substantial proportion of Jewish school-aged children – around 53 per cent – attend Jewish day schools. In most Australian schools, Jewish students represent a very small part of the student population – around 0.2 per cent, or, on average, one student in a school enrolment of 600 students, which is the average size of a school population across Australia.

Before we are accused of antisemitism yet again, this does not mean Jewish children are undeserving of protection, far from it. Every student has the right to attend school without being abused because of their religion, ethnicity or identity, and that goes for all students. But it does raise legitimate questions about why one community’s history, civilisation, social contributions and contemporary political concerns should become the subject of a specialised national program going across every level of education, especially for such a small cohort.

Why should every Australian student be required to undertake dedicated education about Jewish history, civilisation and exceptionalism? If this is the principle we are going to accept, will there be equivalent programs be created for Islamic civilisation, Chinese history, Greek culture, Lebanese migration, Italian, Slavic, Indian history and the contributions of every other community to Australian society?

The curriculum would quickly become a collection of programs designed to satisfy the political and cultural demands of particular organisations, leaving less space for Australian history, Indigenous dispossession, democratic institutions, economics, science and the practical knowledge students already struggle to receive.

The issue is not whether Jewish history is worthy of study (see previous note about accusations of antisemitism) but why should every student across Australian preschools, primary schools and high schools be forced to know this history?

And what would this history involve? Harry Triguboff defacing many Australian cities with his Soviet-style apartment buildings over many decades? Frank Lowy creating the Westfield shopping centres that crippled so many business operators through high rents and unfair bargaining power? Or would it be antisemitic to balance the “positive contributions” with the more deleterious effects?

Would this history also point out that Sir Isaac Isaacs did indeed become one of Australia’s finest Governors–General but that he also warned about the dangers of political Zionism and that recognising Israel at the expense of Palestine would lead to ongoing war and destruction?

This is a real problem. Australia shouldn’t have a specialist organisation acting like a star chamber that decides – at the behest of a government-appointed right-wing envoy – how millions of students across the country will be taught about Jewish identity, Zionism, and the state of Israel.

Protecting a community or restricting political debate?

The latest analysis from the Pew Research Center suggests that 79 per cent of Australians have an “unfavourable view” of the state of Israel (49 per cent very unfavourable; 31 per cent somewhat unfavourable), and this has deteriorated remarkably since their last poll on this issue was performed in 2013, when the figure was 48 per cent unfavourable – still high, but nowhere near the levels of today.

Despite the desires of the Segals of this world to think otherwise, these results can’t just be dismissed as evidence that most Australians have become antisemitic. They haven’t. The figures indicate the widespread opposition to the behaviour of the state of Israel and the Israel Defense Forces, and growing public recognition of the humanitarian catastrophe that has been inflicted upon Palestinians by the state of Israel.

This presents the Albanese government with a big dilemma. At the same time public hostility towards Israel is increasing, his government is creating institutions that want to redefine that expression of hostility as antisemitism. Albanese could just say “no” and rule these outlandish educational proposals out right now, but we know that he won’t, because he wants the favour of everyone within the establishment class, even the extreme Zionists who come knocking on his door. And, as we’ve seen since October 2023, every political leader in Australia is only too happy to throw out the rule book for democracy and acquiesce to the will of these extremists, even if it comes with a high political cost.

When extreme definitions of antisemitism are catapulted into every part of society – schools, universities, workplaces, government agencies and professional bodies – we can see that it’s less about discrimination and more about regulating what people can say about Zionism, Israel and Palestine.

And we can see exactly what the outcome will be: teachers will avoid discussing Gaza because they fear complaints and reprisals. Universities will call in the police and remove protesters, rather than risk the accusation that they failed to provide a “safe environment”. Students will be expelled for using or saying political slogans the antisemitism envoy disapproves of. Employees will say nothing, rather than risk the allegation that their criticism of Israel has created an antisemitic workplace.

No appointed envoy or organisation should be placed in a position where they can determine the educational requirements of the entire country. That is totally unacceptable in a modern democracy, but it’s the path that we’re currently going down and it’s going to be very difficult to turn around.

Yes (and yes, we do have to point this out again and again), antisemitism should be confronted wherever it occurs. Jewish students should be safe at school, at university and be able to participate in public life without being blamed for the actions of a foreign government. But combating antisemitism doesn’t mean keeping the scrutiny away Israel, and treating Zionism as an unquestionable principle.

The danger isn’t just that these proposals will restrict the criticism of Israel: it will weaken the fight against genuine antisemitism, because when everything is antisemitic, then nothing is. Australia doesn’t need a curriculum that approves opinions about Israel. It needs an education system that teaches students to examine history, recognise propaganda, oppose racism and question power – whether it’s coming from our own government, or another one in a faraway location.

A real education teaches students how to think, but an ideological education tells them what they are allowed to think. There’s a key difference. If Segal’s proposals cross that line between the real and the ideological, they’re not going to strengthen Australian democracy or add to “social cohesion”. All it’s going to do is try to protect one community so it can regulate and restrict the political thoughts of everyone else.

Fighting prejudice is now becoming a struggle over democracy

The Royal Commission on Antisemitism and Social Cohesion has become something far bigger than an inquiry into antisemitism. What began as an examination of discrimination and social cohesion is now becoming a plot to reshaping education, public institutions and the boundaries of acceptable political debate. The proposal by the Special Envoy to Combat Antisemitism, Jillian Segal, for a National Centre for Education Against Antisemitism with its curriculum commencing in preschool is highly contentious and needs to be resisted as much as possible.

As we need to always point out, antisemitism need to be confronted wherever it occurs. The real question is now about how this Commission is quickly moving from addressing genuine prejudice into dictating a broader ideological framework that reaches deep into schools, universities and public life. Once governments begin deciding not only what children should learn but how contentious international conflicts should be understood – and according to one side of the conflict – the debate is moving far beyond combating discrimination to one of regulating opinion.

That presents Prime Minister Albanese with a dilemma. Public sympathy for the Israeli government has collapsed, as the humanitarian catastrophe in Gaza and Israel’s rogue behaviour continues, with opinion polling suggesting 79 per cent of Australians now hold an unfavourable view of Israel. With this in mind, Segal’s proposals are more about restricting the scrutiny of a foreign government, as well as further restricting political protest, public criticisms of Israel and implementing a comprehensive curriculum at the behest of an extremist activist subset of 0.14 per cent of Australia’s population.

No group of people in any country should have this level of control, or be in a position where they can dictate the educational requirements for the rest of society.

The danger is that, in trying to protect one community – and it’s doubtful whether Segal’s proposals will lead to greater protections for the Jewish community anyway – governments create precedents that weaken democratic freedoms for everyone else.

The game the president never stops playing

Donald Trump’s latest claim that he’s called off planned military strikes against Iran because nuclear negotiations are progressing, and because the Strait of Hormuz has reopened, sounds simple enough. But the problem is that this is all following a very familiar pattern: create a crisis, threaten a catastrophe, declare victory when the catastrophe is temporarily avoided, and then move on before anyone asks what actually happened. And then rinse and repeat. It has become the defining modus operandi of Trump’s foreign policy – escalation followed by de-escalation, crisis followed by not a crisis, mayhem again, and a lack of a coherent long-term strategy beyond dominating the news cycle.

Since the confrontation with Iran commenced in February, Trump has treated the Middle East/West Asia like a geopolitical reality television show, where unpredictability is mistaken for strength, and confusion is presented as some kind of strategic genius. The markets react, allies all around the world panic, military planners prepare for war, and then, on cue, the White House announces another diplomatic breakthrough. Yet these breakthroughs have an extraordinary habit of becoming another round of threats within weeks, and sometimes within days, or hours.

Ironically, one consequence of Trump’s brinkmanship is that the rest of the world has begun adapting around it. Energy markets have diversified, alternative shipping arrangements have been explored, and governments have become less inclined to believe Trump’s threat. And that might end up being Trump’s greatest foreign policy achievement – normalising the idea that American ultimatums are now a part of a political pantomime act.

The danger is that one day, the pantomime will become real. Trump’s credibility is already shot, but international stability can’t be built upon this kind of insane improvisation. Eventually, allies will stop believing the warnings, and the adversaries will stop fearing the threats – and perhaps they already have.

Corruption could swallow up another Liberal leader

The NSW ICAC’s Operation Rosny hearings are once again exposing an uncomfortable truth about Australian politics: scandals involving money, influence and internal party power are becoming so common, it’s as though the entire political system is based on scandal and corruption.

The allegations surrounding the NSW Liberal Party’s religious-based conservative Reformers faction, together with questions about fundraising and developer influence, are significant, not just because of who might have broken the rules, but because they show that modern politics increasingly operates through donors, factional operators and private influence that goes far beyond the reach of public scrutiny.

The Leader of Opposition, Angus Taylor, has not been accused of wrongdoing so far, but politically, the inquiry is placing more attention on the culture surrounding the faction he has been associated with, and will inevitably raises broader questions about judgement, transparency and the company political leaders keep.

Whether or not Taylor has any role in this directly is not the main issue here – the bigger issue is that Australian politics now has a funding model that depends on wealthy donors, factional warlords and access granted to the vested interests with deep pockets. Politicians regularly declare that they support integrity – and who wouldn’t – while also defending a political culture in which fundraising dinners, private lobbying and well-connected go-betweens have become appendages to government.

The hearings within Operation Rosny will be running for another seven weeks but it’s more than just about whether certain individuals have acted improperly – it’s about the issue of the normalised activities within politics that would be considered to be corrupt in any other profession.

Until political finance is completely reformed, every new corruption inquiry will follow the same script: expressions of outrage, huge promises of making reform, weasel-word denials – and then another investigation a few years later to prove that nothing has actually changed.

A new Premier, but the same rulebook?

Ben Carroll’s elevation to the position of the Premier of Victoria has been presented as a fresh start, but Australian politics has this great ability of confusing a change of leadership with genuine political renewal. Change the Premier, reveal a new slogan, reshuffle the frontbench, make the grand promise to “listen”, and everything will be alright. Except it won’t. The years of political fatigue, declining trust and assorted failures won’t simply fade away just like that.

Carroll has emphasised integrity, competent economic management and restoring public confidence. Of course, these are sensible objectives, but they’re also the motherhood statements that we’ve heard so many times before. Every incoming leader promises honesty, competence and accountability – how could they not – but voters are unlikely to be persuaded unless those promises translate into visible changes on housing affordability, overstretched public services, transport, cost-of-living pressures and the growing perception that governments spend more time managing the headlines than solving problems. And with a state election due in November – just four months way – it’s hard to see many inroads being made into any of these issues.

The broader political lesson goes far beyond the borders of Victoria. Modern political parties are increasingly like marketing organisations, convincing themselves that poor opinion polls are a sign of a branding problem, rather than a problem with the government.

Federal Labor will be watching to see how political events unfold here, because Victoria has long been one of its strongest electoral bases. It’s never a clear correlation between state and federal politics but a decisive rejection of the state government will inevitably fire up the questions about whether the broader Labor brand is beginning to wear thin. The real test for Carroll isn’t so much about not whether he can project an air of competence, but whether he is prepared to change the political lethargy that produced the government’s problems in the first place. A new Premier can always buy some time, but only new and workable ideas can rebuild trust.

Neoliberalism has narrowed the ambitions of government, while corporate influence across housing, mining, banking, gambling, defence and energy makes meaningful reform politically costly. The result is a system that rewards caution, protects vested interests and leaves renters, workers, pensioners and consumers with far less direct influence. Yet the solutions are readily available: real-time political donation disclosure, stronger lobbying laws, transparent ministerial diaries, truth in political advertising, greater freedom-of-information access, protections for whistleblowers and journalists, and a genuinely effective National Anti-Corruption Commission.

The challenge is not so much about saving Australian democracy from collapse, but redistributing political power so governments once again fear disappointing the public more than they fear upsetting wealthy donors and powerful industries.

Jacinta Allan’s resignation is more than just another leadership change: it signals the end of the Daniel Andrews era and leaves Victorian Labor confronting the political cost of its own lofty ambitions. Allan helped oversee one of the largest infrastructure programs in Australian history, including the Metro Tunnel, West Gate Tunnel, Suburban Rail Loop and the Big Build, while advancing housing and planning reforms, cost-of-living measures and Australia’s first Treaty with Indigenous peoples.

These projects were designed for a Melbourne rapidly becoming Australia’s largest city, but delays, cost overruns and state debt heading towards $200 billion allowed Labor’s nation-building narrative to be replaced by questions about financial management, integrity and public trust. Allegations of CFMEU corruption, criminal infiltration and questionable labour-hire practices – many originating during the Andrews years – were never politically contained, while Allan’s resistance to a royal commission allowed the crisis to overwhelm her government’s broader achievements.

She also struggled to escape the shadow of Daniel Andrews: voters increasingly viewed her premiership as a continuation of the past rather than the beginning of a new political agenda, while sections of the Victorian media applied relentless pressure and gave little space to the government’s longer-term case for infrastructure investment.

Ben Carroll now inherits the premiership, a divided Victorian Labor Party, deteriorating polling and an election only months away. His immediate announcement of a royal commission into the construction sector may neutralise the controversy over the Big Build, but it also confirms the seriousness of the problem Labor previously resisted investigating. Yet a Liberal victory is hardly assured: Opposition Leader Jess Wilson presides over an inexperienced and internally divided Victorian Liberal Party still contending with religious factionalism and ideological extremism.

The 2026 Victorian election will be a test of whether changing leaders can restore Labor’s credibility – or whether the political and financial legacy of the Andrews–Allan era has finally become too heavy to carry.

Politics is disappointing, but does it always have to be this disappointing? It’s a question that we’re always asked at New Politics and becomes harder to avoid after a week in which the Prime Minister attended an exclusive fundraiser at a Point Piper mansion, Labor members gathered at a national conference to debate policies the parliamentary leadership will end up ignoring, and Victorian Labor descended into another leadership crisis only months before a state election.

These events are not directly linked, but they expose the same failures: political parties that increasingly facilitate access, participation in democracy for the select few, and even leadership as instruments for maintaining power, rather than using it effectively in the public interest.

It would be naïve to imagine there was once a golden age when Australian politics was pure, democratic and untouched by money or vested interests, because those days have never existed. Political influence has always been applied inconsistently, parties have always cultivated and worshiped wealthy supporters, and governments have always attempted to neuter and diminish their party memberships. But democratic government has always depended on the goodwill and sound judgement of the people occupying public office, and if that goodwill can no longer be guaranteed, stronger legislative safeguards need to be implemented.

Prime Minister Anthony Albanese is facing legitimate questions over his attendance at a fundraiser held at a billionaire’s Point Piper mansion, where guests were encouraged to contribute $10,000 each. The objection isn’t that Albanese shared a meal with wealthy people – prime ministers need to meet with different business leaders, community representatives and citizens from every part of society, even the parts that we might not necessarily agree with.

The problem is that only one class of Australian can afford this special type of political access. A renter struggling with a 20 per cent increase, an exhausted nurse, a disability pensioner or a casual worker can’t pay $10,000 to sit in a magnificent private home and explain their concerns directly to the Prime Minister. Political access shouldn’t be like an auction going to the highest bidder, yet neither major party is willing to demand or implement stronger restrictions on political donations, lobbying and fundraising.

These same barriers were also visible at Labor’s 50th national conference, albeit in a different form. Here we had Labor members invited to travel to Adelaide, debate, negotiate amendments, applaud speeches, and congratulate themselves on their attendance. But it’s primarily a political theatre and pantomime. Members can express their views on Gaza, AUKUS, gambling advertising, gas exports, corporate power and voluntary assisted dying, yet any proposal that flies in the face of the dictatorial parliamentary executive is softened up, deferred, or put into the “for review” bucket, and never seen or heard of again.

A democratic party does need some flexibility when it gets itself into government, and there needs to be a response to changing circumstances – an issue that has a high level of support at this kind of conference and ends up in the Labor Platform might end up being too politically contentious and difficult for a government to achieve. But there has to be a meaningful relationship between the people who sustain a political movement and the government that’s operating in its name. Otherwise, what’s the point?

Another form of detachment from the public is now appearing in Victoria, where the Labor Party has decided that four months before a state election was the best time to remove Premier Jacinta Allan, and create a level of instability that will more than likely seal the fate of the Victoria Labor government in November, despite the poor state of the almost unelectable Liberal Party. Labor should have a good story to tell Victorians, with Melbourne being the third most desirable city in the world to live in, and a massive infrastructure program that will benefit the state in the short-to-medium term.

But there have been many allegations of corruption and organised crime associated with this program, and Allan hasn’t been politically astute enough to manage the crisis or establish an inquiry to resolve them. Instead, the allegations were allowed to fester for almost two years, and that ultimately cost her the leadership.

This is the story of long-term governments in contemporary Australia, and it seems that the timeframe for administrations maintaining their competence is becoming much shorter as time goes on. In previous eras, governments commonly remained in office for long periods: the Coalition governed federally for 23 years between 1949 and 1972, while state governments sometimes lasted for 24, 27 or even 32 years and, more or less, were competent for much of that time, certainly by today’s standards.

The modern era has been different though. The NSW Labor government held office for 16 years between 1995 and 2011, but much of its final eight years was marked by insufferable instability and corruption. The Coalition then went through a similar decline during its 12 years in office: broadly competent in its first half, disastrous in its second. Federally, the Coalition displayed a high degree of incompetence pretty much across all three terms between 2013 and 2022.

Has governing simply become too difficult? Is the best the public can expect is a few years of competent administration before the rot sets in and then a governing party becomes more concerned with its own survival than the public interest? Is that the stage the Albanese government is now entering? Or is our political system no longer sophisticated enough to deal with the complexities of the modern world and the pace of rapidly changing circumstances?

The incentives against good government

Australia isn’t badly governed in the sense of being unstable, authoritarian or corrupt. Sure, there are pockets of corruption, but it’s not comprehensively corrupt and, eventually, the Eddie Obeids of politics will always be caught out. Elections are generally competitive without too many dramas, compulsory voting produces a high participation rate of around 90 per cent, transfers of power when a government loses office are peaceful, the judiciary is professional, the Senate can place a handbrake on governments, and the public service still has the ability to administer complex programs, in most cases. These are substantial democratic achievements and should never be underestimated or dismissed.

But Australia is badly governed in more infuriating ways. This is a country that has the wealth, institutional history and administrative abilities to solve many of its most persistent problems, but repeatedly chooses the measures that are just small to do this. Governments promise to make housing more affordable, while protecting the tax concessions and rising property values that make it unaffordable.

They promise cheaper energy through useless and expensive rebates, without confronting the energy corporations; a promise of higher wages without addressing the workplace imbalances between employers and employees; a promise to provide better services without raising enough revenue; climate action while continuing to approve fossil-fuel expansion; and gambling reforms while remaining dependent on gambling taxes.

This is currently a system that rewards caution – which Anthony Albanese has taken full advantage of – the management of political messaging, and accommodating vested interests and concentration of power, more than it rewards problem solving. Mining companies, banks, property interests, gambling corporations, consultants, defence contractors and large media organisations don’t need to directly bribe governments, because it’s almost as though they’re a de facto part of government anyway – they have privileged access, the capacity to directly lobbying governments at any time, they can make political donations without any fear of being caught out or compromised, they have control over investment and employment, media influence and the ability to finance campaigns against the policies they don’t like and don’t want to see introduced.

The consequence is not so much the overt corruption but the expectation that governments will obey their instructions, or face the consequences. Governments then understand which proposals will provoke a costly political attack, so any proposal or policy recommendation is diluted well before the public gets to see them. Reform is then reduced to what the vested interests will allow.

Changing the costs of political failure

We’re always ready to identify all the problems that currently exist within politics and because we always bellow about it – possibly too often – it might appear that the entire system is so broken that it’s beyond redemption. But the good news is that the ready-made solutions already exist, if only there was the will to implement them.

As we’ve discussed many times before, the immediate reforms are available right now: real-time disclosure and tighter limits on political donations; comprehensive registration of professional and in-house lobbyists and restrictions for how much access they can gain with ministers; publication of ministerial diaries; enforceable cooling-off periods for former ministers; stronger whistleblower laws and protections for journalists; truth-in-political-advertising, effective and workable Freedom of Information rules and a properly resourced National Anti-Corruption Commission operating with greater transparency than what it has shown over the past three years.

All of these measures currently exist on some level – a weak truth in political advertising Bills was introduced into Parliament in 2024 but not passed – but they’re piecemeal, not backed up with any meaningful legislative powers, and have little or no consequence if they are ever breached.

In the longer-term, there needs to be a change in the distribution of political power, including proportional representation through multi-member electorates, stronger democratic processes within political parties, parliamentary control over war powers and major treaties, citizens’ assemblies, reducing dependence on external consultants and providing sustainable support for independent and public-interest media.

Of course, none of this could ever happen by itself, and it’s not just a matter of finding better politicians: it’s a matter of making the existing politicians perform to a higher standard, if we’re willing to demand it from them.

The objective is, first of all, to change the cost of political failure: to make it more politically costly for governments to ignore renters than property investors; more costly to ignore workers than employers; and more costly to serve donors instead of the public. These should all be self-evident and obvious truths, yet too many politicians act contrary to the public interest.

Change can always happen, but it will take a great deal of organised pressure outside of Parliament, as well as mood for change within. Australia is functioning in a least-worst position politically, because that’s where its leaders want to position the country. Of course, we should be thankful that Australia avoids political violence and dictatorships, but what a depressingly low bar that is to set for such a wealthy, largely peaceful, and highly educated country.

Politics won’t improve because leaders suddenly discover courage in a quiet moment of reflection: it will improve only when citizens rebuild the organisations and democratic institutions that have been allowed to fall by the wayside. Those institutions became weaker because the leaders who benefited from their decline allowed it to happen. Restoring them will require sustained public pressure, stronger civic participation and a willingness to demand more from out political leaders.

Australia could be doing so much better – but only when political timidity and weakness starts to carry a far greater price than implementing meaningful reform. Making that happen is the task that lies ahead for all of us.

This might be the point where Labor’s massive parliamentary majority develops the complacency that eventually destroys all governments, irrespective of which side they come from. Anthony Albanese is facing questions over an exclusive fundraiser at a $40 million Point Piper mansion, where guests were “encouraged” to contribute $10,000 each – no pressure – although, of course, nobody was purchasing influence: dinners of this kind can be quite expensive and the prime minister does have to eat at some point.

The dinner was hosted by businessman Felix Lee, whose billionaire father, Phillip Dong Fang Lee, has been accused by the Australian Taxation Office of tax deception and funnelling money from China, and why not lobby the government go easy on this case, in between servings of lobster mornay.

The double-standards are quite predictable. Labor has spent weeks attacking Pauline Hanson for her relationships with Gina Rinehart and other wealthy benefactors, presenting those relationships as evidence of One Nation’s fraudulent claim to represent the working classes. Yet Albanese’s defence – that he attends many dinners and does not discuss these private engagements – suggests Labor’s concern is not that billionaires enjoy privileged political access, but the wrong billionaires are accessing the wrong politicians.

We can recall that former Liberal Party leader Peter Dutton attended a Vaucluse fundraiser before the 2025 election at $25,000 per head – and didn’t he cop a hiding over this, and rightly so – so this isn’t a practice that’s restricted to the Labor Party. And that is exactly the problem. It’s a stinking stain on Australian politics, but no one – except for the Australian Greens and independent MPs – has the fortitude to stamp it out.

Political access goes to the highest bidder, while the hoi polloi are kept at bay, their political involvement restricted to fundraising emails from the parties begging for $20 donations, or carefully managed community forums, where it’s all about talking, but no listening.

This has got the potential to become a full-scale scandal for Albanese but, even if it doesn’t, it’s a sign that Labor’s massive parliamentary majority might be causing complacency within the government.

Labor fears One Nation, but also feeds it

The aftermath of Labor’s national conference has revealed a glaring contradiction: the party is terrified of the impact of One Nation but is unwilling to address many of the economic conditions that seems to be feeding it. Labor leaders repeatedly warned that Hanson threatens social cohesion – which is correct – yet Anthony Albanese has ruled out a 25 per cent gas-export tax that could raise billions for public housing, regional investment and targeted cost-of-living relief, an action that could remove some of the key planks of One Nation’s support.

Apparently, One Nation is an existential danger to Labor – but asking enormously profitable gas corporations to contribute more to the public good is just a step too far.

Although the conference is more about Labor’s overall principles and the Labor Platform – the one that Labor MP’s laud over when they’re in opposition but ignore when they finally get into government – it produced no transformative program for blue-collar workers, struggling outer suburbs or regional communities hollowed out by privatisation, insecure employment and decades of withdrawal of government and public services.

Instead, Labor seems to think Hanson is a branding problem that can be defeated through speeches, denunciations and warnings about extremism. Scare the rank-and-file membership enough through an email campaign, and surely they’ll cough up an extra $20 “to prevent One Nation from turning polling momentum into seats”. That’s far easier than standing up to the gas corporations.

It’s a sign that the Labor government is ignoring: people rarely abandon the established parties because they suddenly develop an enthusiasm for grievance politics of One Nation. They do so because wages are stagnant, housing is unaffordable, public services are deteriorating and nobody in government – or the opposition, for that matter – appears willing to challenge gas corporations at all.

Condemning Hanson’s racism and divisive rhetoric is necessary, but that’s not an economic remedy. Unless Labor materially improves people’s lives in a substantial way through gas export taxes and taxes on wealthy interests, it will continue supplying One Nation with precisely what it needs: angry voters, abandoned communities and a political establishment that’s more frightened of taxing gas exporters than losing its own working-class base.

The “look-but-don’t touch” democracy

One of the clearest examples of Labor’s national conference lack of practical authority was over the issue voluntary assisted dying. Delegates did endorse removing federal barriers that prevent telehealth consultations for lawful voluntary assisted dying – an especially important reform for terminally ill people in rural and regional Australia, who are physically incapable of travelling long distances. It seems like a straight-forward proposition.

Anthony Albanese responded almost immediately by opposing the proposal, citing the importance of face-to-face “protections be placed around it” – try telling that to the terminally ill cancer patient in rural and regional Australia who can no longer tolerate the pain, even after endless supplies of morphine – making a mockery of his belief that “people have a right to die with dignity”.

The Australian Greens and independent MP Kate Chaney are now preparing legislation to change these laws, leaving Labor’s parliamentary executive resisting the policy endorsed by its own conference. So, what’s the point of a national conference, if there’s no meaningful relationship between the membership of the party, and government?

Members are invited to debate, amend the platform and celebrate their participation (without the brawls, of course) – until they endorse something the leadership finds politically inconvenient which they then end up ruling out – leading to the conference just becoming a very expensive box-ticking exercise.

And it’s not just VAD: it’s the same process that applies to Gaza, AUKUS, gambling advertising, gas taxation and standing up to corporate and vested interests. Delegates might express dissatisfaction – as Labor MP Ed Husic did – but not much is going to change.

We’ve been told that the food was good though: networking lunches sponsored by Macquarie Group and Conexus Financial, a large 400-plus-person dinner funded by law firm Maurice Blackburn, and bar tabs and coffee carts hosted by corporate groups like Endeavour and CropLife.

These conferences will continue to be a waste of time and just an exercise in travel and gastronomy, until they provide a more meaningful link between the rank-and-file membership and executive government.

The long goodbye in Victoria

It’s the worst possible way to approach a state election, and it seems that the parliamentary members don’t care. Victorian Premier Jacinta Allan faces the most dangerous point of her leadership, with Labor MPs considering whether to demand her resignation or force a spill. Disastrous polling, the government’s handling of alleged CFMEU corruption and organised crime – and now this potential leadership spill – is leading to the growing expectation of a defeat in the November state election.

Deputy Premier Ben Carroll is the most frequently mentioned replacement, although Allan might survive because her opponents can’t agree on who should inherit the political wreckage and the lead the party to a likely defeat. Will changing leaders improve the prospects for Victoria Labor? Scott Morrison managed to do it federally in 2019, taking on the leadership eight months before an election – which he won – but generally, these types of leadership changes mainly signpost a far deeper problem: a tired, faction-dominated government trying to resolve a crisis by rearranging the deck chairs.

And despite their best intentions, it always works out this way. In New South Wales, Labor between 1995–2011, the Coalition between 2011–23; federally, the Coalition between 2013–22; and now Victorian Labor, in office since 2014. It always happens when long-term governments stop acting in the public interest, and start acting in their own interest.

Unpromoted backbenchers discover principles that they should have acted upon years ago, factional operators start counting numbers, and ministers insist everything is under control. It’s a form of complacency that leads to reactionary defensiveness; and that defensiveness then leads to paralysis.

Allan has tried everything to hold onto power, including offering a toast to the state of Israel at an event hosted by the Zionist Federation of Australia and announcing a long-term medical research deal with leading Israeli hospitals and medical institutions, even though there’s so many other countries in the world that such a partnership could have been developed with.

The issue is no longer simply whether Allan remains premier. It is whether Victorian Labor can remember why it got into office in first place all the way back in 2014 – or whether the only remaining objective is keeping its people in government for another four years. The Victorian Liberal party is unfit for office, but surely there need to be better reasons for staying in government than just to keep the other side out.

Andy Burnham’s arrival as British prime minister could represent more than another change of leadership: it will become a test of whether a modern Labour government can finally make a break with Thatcherism and neoliberalism. His promises of cost-of-living relief, social housing, regional investment, stronger public services and greater economic power outside London offer a sharp contrast with Keir Starmer’s cautious politics. Burnham’s acknowledgement of Labour’s failures over Gaza and Palestine also signals a potential shift in British foreign policy – but his progressive rhetoric will mean little unless it converts into major reform.

Reversing decades of privatisation, deregulation, weakened trade unions and concentrated corporate power will require substantial public investment, expanded public ownership, stronger collective bargaining and a willingness to confront financial markets and powerful vested interests. Britain’s housing crisis, insecure employment, deteriorating infrastructure and extreme inequality didn’t arrive by accident: they are the consequences of an economic model adopted by governments of both the right and centre-left over many decade.

Burnham’s experiment also carries serious implications for Anthony Albanese and Australian Labor. Australia followed Britain and the United States into neoliberalism, privatisation and market deregulation, and it may follow again if Burnham demonstrates that ambitious government can reduce living costs, expand social housing and rebuild public services. Success in Britain would make Albanese’s incrementalism increasingly difficult to defend.

That pressure arrives as Australian Labor prepares for its 50th National Conference, where party members are demanding stronger action on Gaza, AUKUS, gas exports, gambling advertising and corporate power. The enduring question for labour politics in both countries is whether members can genuinely shape government policy – or whether conference debates merely provide the appearance of democracy while parliamentary leaders protect the status quo. Burnham may offer a new direction for Britain and a pathway of change for Australia, but only if he is prepared to challenge the interests that have spent decades ensuring meaningful change never arrives.

Pauline Hanson may have an enormous media profile, but One Nation’s falling support is exposing the widening gulf between political attention and electoral credibility. Hanson’s latest European road show – attacking multiculturalism, Muslims, transgender people, net zero and supposedly shadowy “globalists” – shows how far the party depends on grievance politics rather than practical answers to Australia’s housing crisis, stagnant wages, deteriorating public services and rising cost of living. Culture-war rhetoric can generate headlines, but it won’t build homes, improve hospitals or challenge the economic policies that have deepened inequality.

Hanson’s claim to represent the forgotten Australian battlers also becomes harder to sustain when she appears alongside far-right activist Tommy Robinson, attends an exclusive Italian fashion event and socialises with mining billionaire Gina Rinehart. Questions about who funded or facilitated the trip only bring that contradiction into focus. Meanwhile, the Nationals and sections of the Liberal Party are adopting much of the same language about migration, “woke institutions” and left-wing globalists, apparently convinced that imitating One Nation offers a path back to government after repeated election defeats.

Hanson’s confused position on the White Australia policy, enthusiasm for Donald Trump-style immigration enforcement and comments describing domestic violence as a “two-way street” reveal the deeper problem: almost every social change is presented as a threat, while corporate power, wealth inequality and political failure escape scrutiny. The Australian media may concentrate on Barnaby Joyce shouting at his dog or Hanson’s latest tirade, but voters are capable of seeing right through the charade.

If One Nation has reached its political high-water mark and now starts to fall away, it may be because grievance without solutions eventually runs out of room to work in – and because Hanson cannot indefinitely pose as the champion of ordinary Australians while keeping company with the billionaire class.

One Nation’s support has suffered a drop in opinion polls, although it is too early to tell if it’s already reached its high-water mark and will drop down even further. The latest Roy Morgan poll shows One Nation in third place behind the Coalition, and this fall is consistent with most other polls that have been recently published.

In a Labor–One Nation contest, Labor leads by 55-to-45 per cent after preferences, and between Labor and the Coalition, Labor leads 56-to-44 per cent. Of course, these are only opinion polls, but it suggests the Labor Party would easily win an election – if it were to be held today – and despite the ongoing clamouring and promotion of right-wing causes by the mainstream media, One Nation would be nowhere near the levers of government, and rightly so.

This decline coincides with Pauline Hanson’s extended European junket, during which she addressed two conservative conferences in Britain, appeared with far-right anti-Islam activist and convicted criminal, Tommy Robinson, and was later photographed poolside, lapping it up with mining billionaire Gina Rinehart at the five-star Grand Hotel San Pietro in Italy. Hanson says the trip did not cost taxpayers “one cent” – it’s money or support coming from either Rinehart or Seven West Media – but she refuses to say who, even though she’ll have to inform the Parliamentary Registry of Expenses within 28 days.

At CPAC Great Britain – a conference of conservative has-beens and non-entities who are unhappy that the rest of the world is not championing their collection of insane far-right ideals – Hanson told her small audience that she was “sick of hearing about white privilege”, would “not apologise for being white” (even though no-one has asked her to), and feared for England’s future. Her assessment of the “British decline” was built around those familiar themes of the international populist right: migration, multiculturalism, Muslims, transgender people, net-zero policies and the supposedly malign influence of “globalists”. And, apparently, Australia is next to travel down this same road if it doesn’t watch out.

Let’s leave aside for the time being that many of Britain’s current issues are the results of over 40 years of neoliberalist policies, a continuous circus-act of incompetent governments, and the Brexit decision of 2016 – but it was an odd argument for Hanson to export from a country whose multicultural cities continue to perform highly by international standards. In the Economist Intelligence Unit’s 2026 Global Liveability Index, from the over 4,000 recognised capital cities in the world, Melbourne was ranked third, Sydney was fourth and Adelaide was eighth.

This doesn’t mean that Australia doesn’t have issues that need to be dealt with – housing is increasingly unaffordable, wages have struggled to keep up with the cost of living, public services are constantly under pressure, and governments have repeatedly failed to plan adequately for population growth. But these are issues to do with government competence and economic policy, not evidence of cultural diversity causing the end of civilisation.

The company Hanson chose to keep when she was overseas was also problematic. Among the delegates were the former British 49-day prime minister Liz Truss, the failed Reform UK leader Nigel Farage, and other desperadoes from the international right. Hanson’s separate appearance with Robinson was more even more concerning. Robinson has an extensive criminal record, including convictions for assault, fraud-related offences and ongoing contempt of court. Being interviewed by a controversial criminal might not be inherently terrible, but Hanson appeared as a sympathetic political subject in the same grievance-based world that Robinson lives in.

Prime Minister Anthony Albanese criticised Hanson for travelling overseas to “denigrate and talk down Australia”, which is exactly what she did. That’s a justified criticism but it’s also another reminder of the wider hypocrisy within conservative politics. The politicians most likely to describe themselves as “patriots” are increasingly willing to appear in front of foreign audiences and depict Australia as a broken society that’s been captured by hostile influences, even when the evidence suggests otherwise.

Another one of these hypocrites is Nationals Senate leader Bridget McKenzie, who is keen to show the world – literally – that she is not going to be outdone by One Nation. Speaking at the same CPAC event, McKenzie declared that conservatives were “at war” with “leftwing globalists”, mass migration and “woke institutions”, and summoned conservatives across the English-speaking world to mobilise against these people. And if that wasn’t enough, she described Australia as becoming the “most woke” country in the world, before also attacking migration policy, transgender rights and net-zero. It’s pretty insane stuff.

McKenzie’s speech is of more consequence than Hanson’s because it came from the Senate leader of a party that sees itself as part of Australia’s mainstream alternative government. The Coalition’s election defeats in 2022 and 2025 should have prompted serious policy development on housing, insecure work, regional services, energy, climate adaptation and declining living standards – the issues that affect people in a material way every single day – instead, McKenzie – and Hanson – are gallivanting around the world in a self-indulgent talkfest and importing this far-right culture war garbage that believes that behind every policy problem is a mysterious international conspiracy of wokeness.

Developing workable policies that makes people’s lives better requires solid research, negotiations in parliament, trade-offs and an admission that some problems in this world are difficult. But who’s got time for that when there’s a luxurious Italian poolside to swim in or a suave fashion show to attend? All culture-war politics needs is an easily found enemy of hate, inflammatory language based on lies, and a social media campaign to force the issue.

For sure, this all mobilises anger and gets the attention, but how many new houses will be built by destroying the “most woke” country in the world? How many hospital waiting lists will be cut by attacking transgender people? How will engaging in a war against “leftwing globalists” improve schools or deliver infrastructure? Or better still, where do we find these leftwing globalists and when will this war against them commence?

Hanson’s return to Australia produced more of the same. At a leadership breakfast in Perth, she defended her trip, praised Rinehart as a “very proud, patriotic Australian” and said the billionaire supported One Nation because she recognised the same qualities in the party. Hanson presents herself as the friend of “the battlers”, but the battlers are very unlikely to share an Italian holiday resort with the likes of Rinehart, or attend the high-end Dolce & Gabbana fashion show.

Here we have the supposed champion of Australians abandoned by elites, relaxing poolside with a billionaire and mining magnate, while warning that the country was being stolen from under their feet. One Nation keeps telling voters that it’s the privileged establishment and elites that are responsible for their woes, while maintaining close relations with the most powerful economic interests in the country. Migrants, Muslims, climate advocates and transgender people – the other – are always at the centre of Hanson’s political story, while the business-as-usual of the concentration of wealth and corporate influence remains in place. And it’s this big gap in rhetoric that’s beginning to catch up with her.

Ultimately, Hanson is being exposed as just another politician – she said the dismantling of the White Australia policy was when Australia’s immigration system started to go wrong, but then denied she ever called for its return, despite calling for immigration to be stopped from “radical Islamic countries”, Gaza, and countries where women wear the burqa.

This raises obvious questions: would exclusions be based on nationality, religion, birthplace, individual security assessments or the political conduct of a government? Or would it be up to Hanson to decide?

The Department of Home Affairs suggests that a large proportion of overstayers come from China and the United States – not from the Muslim-majority countries that dominate Hanson’s rhetoric. Most of these people arrive lawfully and overstay temporary visas, and the government already has legal procedures for identifying, detaining and removing the very few unlawful non-citizens who exist in Australia. There is no need for a local US-style enforcement agency, because one already exists and there are very few unlawful non-citizens. But none of this matters to Hanson: it’s all about discussing an inflammatory issue, identifying a problem that doesn’t exist, and suggesting an extreme solution to that non-existent problem.

All these inconsistencies and ongoing foolishness doesn’t prove that One Nation’s support will continue to fall. There’s always going to be a receptive audience for this material, and it’s also easier for political figures from the right to manufacturer the outage, than do the hard work of developing policies that will make peoples lives better. During the week, we had a classic “man-bites-dog” story, where One Nation’s Barnaby Joyce appeared on the ABC’s 7.30 program, only to start shouting at one of his dogs mid-sentence, before returning to his endless list of grievances and complaints about the state of the world.

Of course, the media focussed on assessing why Joyce shouted at his dog, and how this became a viral social media moment – but nothing at all about the content of what he said in the interview. That’s why One Nation festers on: an environment where style is valued over substance, and the man barking at his dog is remembered for the bark, and not for his justification for why his party leader – Pauline Hanson – decided to meet with a known criminal in the UK, share a luxury hotel with a billionaire, or would want to bring back the White Australia policy.

But voters eventually expect politics to produce more than imaginary enemies, create endless culture wars, or offer solutions to problems that don’t even exist. One Nation will never be able to turn resentment into a credible policy – and if the Coalition continues following it deeper into an imported culture war – both will end up withering on the vine for a long time to come.

Pauline Hanson has used the UK Conservative Political Action Conference – speaking in a room where there were far more empty seats than people – to announce that she was “sick of hearing about white privilege”, would “not apologise for being white” and held “fears for England”. Seemingly wanting to become Australia’s greatest cultural export since Rolf Harris, her prime evidence of the collapse of British civilisation is that London is a multicultural global city, Muslims live there and not everybody shares her brand of repulsive and divisive far-right politics. She also warned that Australia is heading towards the same supposed catastrophe, despite Melbourne, Sydney and Adelaide consistently ranked as the world’s most liveable cities – third, fourth and eighth respectively – and Australia ranking second in the world for its safety, healthcare, political and economic stability, after Canada. That’s how bad things have become.

Hanson appeared on this international grievance circuit with the failed politicians Nigel Farage and Liz Truss, and convicted far-right activist Tommy Robinson (assault, fraud, stalking, and multiple contempt of court rulings), importing the familiar Trumpian formula of idiocy and incoherence: blame migrants, Muslims, transgender people, net zero and “globalists” for every economic and social failure that conservative governments and their wealthy supporters have helped to produce over many years.

We’ve always maintained that Hanson is sowing the seeds of her own demise, and going overseas to besmirch the reputation of Australia, and associating herself with political failures, known spivs and convicted criminals is a prime example of this.

And it didn’t stop there. Before lecturing ordinary Australians about our apparent national decline and cost-of-living pressures, the self-appointed champion of the battlers was photographed enjoying a Dolce & Gabbana spectacle in Sicily with billionaire Gina Rinehart – Hanson and Rinehart obviously share similar far-right political ideals – and then going off to relax in the pool at the five-star Grand Hotel San Pietro. Nothing reflects the hypocrisy of modern right-wing populism quite like railing against privileged elites from the comforting pool deck of a luxury hotel.

The Nationals join the One Nation grievance industry

In the competitive race to outdo One Nation – and to also “value-add” to Australia’s exporting of reactionary politics – the Nationals Senate leader Bridget McKenzie has announced that conservatives are “in a war” against “leftwing globalists”, mass immigration and “woke institutions”. Forget about the war between the United States and Iran – this is the war that we really need to start paying attention to.

This is actually more consequential than Hanson’s performance at the same conference because McKenzie is from the supposedly mainstream Coalition, not an idiot populist fringe movement. McKenzie told the CPAC gathering that conservative movements across the English-speaking world must organise collectively, described Australia as the “most woke” country in the Anglosphere, before the predicable rants against migration, transgender rights and net-zero policy.

And it’s so predicably boring: the organ grinder and monkey need to find some new material, because the audience is getting bored. Many Australians would be surprised to learn that affordable housing, functioning public services that serve the community, and stagnant wages are apparently less urgent than defeating this mysterious international woke conspiracy.

The bigger problem here is an intellectual one, as much as it is a political issue. These really are stupid and insane policies, and while some in the electoral are entertaining these ideas, it will dissipate before the next election, as it did in the 2022 and 2025 elections.

But the Coalition is not learning the lessons of these defeats: rather than developing policies for Australia’s actual economic, social and environmental challenges, the Australian right wants to import a prefab Trump–Farage–CPAC culture war that has never borne any electoral fruit in the past. So why do they keep doing it? Because it’s cheaper than developing the serious policy work, it’s far more angry than decent democratic debate, and it’s a lot easier than governing competently.

Can Burnham bury Thatcherism?

Andy Burnham will become Britain’s seventh prime minister in a decade, in a bizarre game of political musical chairs in a country that still pretends to offer stable government. He’ll be replacing Keir Starmer and is promising a stronger focus on cost-of-living relief, social housing, regional development and devolving power away from London. The bigger question is whether this represents a genuine economic break from the disasters of neoliberalism, or just a repackaged form of language that will end up being the same economic policies from the past.

Although Britain is far away, the Burnham government will be an important test for Anthony Albanese: can a nominally progressive government recover public support by intervening directly in the economy and improving people’s lives? Australia rarely creates a unique economic direction, and mainly follows the prevailing international cycles.

Thatcherism forced through the neoliberal revolution that created gross privatisation, weakened unions, concentrated wealth in the hands of fewer people and eventually hollowed out public institutions across the Western world, including Australia. It would be fitting if what started in Britain, could also end in Britain.

Burnham’s positions on Donald Trump, Gaza, China and defence spending will also be carefully scrutinised, and a more independent British foreign policy could give Australia greater room to move diplomatically. But, first of all, he needs to show that he’s willing to stand up to the interests that have benefited from the massive changes that have occurred over the past five decades.

Labor’s conference of carefully managed disagreement

More than 2,000 delegates will gather in Adelaide for Labor’s 50th National Conference, where rank-and-file members and union delegates will demand stronger action over Gaza, restrictions on gambling advertising and policies that challenge corporate power. The federal government, meanwhile, will create the right language that sounds principled when repeated in news soundbites, satisfies the competing factions and binds nobody to anything.

Labor conferences have become highly professional exercises in manufacturing consent: some debate is permitted, some shouty passion is displayed and potentially troublesome motions are rewritten until they no longer threaten government policy, are then rubber-stamped, and sent off to the National Secretariat and filed under “not to be re-opened”.

The bigger issue is: what does Labor membership mean now? If delegates can debate Palestine, gambling, AUKUS and gas export policy but cannot materially change the direction of the federal government, what’s the point?

The conference risks becoming the standard political theatre – a place where the party remembers its principles for three days before the leadership returns to governing as though they were never discussed in the first place or even exist.

Are we the AI nation or a corporate data colony?

The Labor government is presenting its national artificial-intelligence framework as a plan to create economic opportunities, while also including controls on government decision-making, stronger privacy protections, safeguards for artists and publishers, and bureaucratic oversight of the massive amounts of electricity and water demands that are created by these data centres. These are worthwhile promises, but the government remains very vague about who will own this infrastructure, who will profit from it and who will carry the costs.

Why the sudden rush to build these data centres, and whom will they ultimately serve? Their civilian uses are extensive, from cloud computing to generative AI, but data infrastructure also has obvious strategic, intelligence and military applications. There is no public evidence at this stage that the government’s plan is designed to synchronise Australian, American and Israeli military systems, although our dependence on US technology companies and its expanding defence integration makes the demands for transparency entirely reasonable.

This not a battle between technological progress and irrational fear: it’s about finding the balance between multinational companies that want access to copyrighted work, public resources and favourable regulation, and citizens wanting consent, compensation, secure employment and democratic control. So far, it’s been working against the public interest.

AI policy cannot be reduced to yet another industry-development announcement embellished with the word “innovation”. Before Australians give up their creative work, personal information, energy and water, the government needs to explain what is being created here, who it’s for, under whose control – and why the public should trust it.

The social cohesion™ circus continues

The Royal Commission into Antisemitism and Social Cohesion will go through its fifth block of hearings by examining security for Jewish institutions, events and community leaders, including policing, government funding and community security organisations. Jewish Australians should have protection from violence, intimidation and discrimination – as should every Australian citizen – but security cannot become a blank cheque for surveillance, secrecy or the classification of lawful pro-Palestinian activism as a constant threat.

These hearings coincide with Labor’s long-delayed response to Islamophobia envoy Aftab Malik’s report. The government has accepted 35 of its 54 recommendations – which sounds great – however, it rejected all of the more important proposals, including to hold an inquiry into anti-Palestinian and anti-Arab racism and changes to counterterrorism laws that disproportionately target Islamic communities.

There’s an obvious discrepancy here: Labor has committed to acting on every single recommendation from the antisemitism envoy’s ambit claims, while Muslim Australians have had to wait for ten months for a half-hearted and almost invisible response to Malik’s report. Evidently, some forms of racism will result in royal commissions, sweeping institutional reforms and immediate political urgency; others receive scant regard and an inane promise to just keep talking.

If “social cohesion” is to mean anything, protection must be consistent and provided to all communities equally. A government cannot credibly oppose antisemitism while treating Islamophobia and anti-Arab racism as a side issue – particularly while the likes of Hanson and mainstream conservatives openly show their hostility towards Muslim Australians.

The Federal Court might have ended pianist Jayson Gillham’s legal battle with the Melbourne Symphony Orchestra, but its decision leaves a far more consequential issue unresolved: how much freedom do artists genuinely have when their political expression conflicts with the interests of cultural institutions, donors and influential lobby groups? Although the judgment was framed narrowly as a workplace law decision rather than a ruling on freedom of speech, its practical message extends well beyond one musician and one cancelled performance.

Gillham’s offence was not an attack on a community, nor an expression of racial or religious hostility. He introduced Connor D’Netto’s composition Witness – in front of just 130 people – by dedicating it to Palestinian journalists killed in Gaza. The MSO’s response demonstrated how quickly an artistic comment can be whipped up into a crisis once Palestine enters the conversation. Once “commercial reputation” becomes sufficient grounds for removing a performer, artistic freedom is no longer a principle – it’s a conditional privilege, permitted only while sponsors, donors and boards remain comfortable.

The central issue here is the obvious double standard. Expressions of solidarity with Ukraine are routinely welcomed, while support for Israel has never resulted for professional consequences. MSO chair Edgar Myer publicly condemned Hamas in 2023 without sanction, yet Gillham’s comments about Palestinian journalists led to the cancellation of his performances. The court accepted that the orchestra would also have acted against an artist making an equivalent statement supporting Israel, but the broader history of Australian cultural institutions gives artists good reason to question whether political neutrality is being applied consistently.

This legal case might specifically apply to Gillham, but its effect will be much wider. Artists watching from the sidelines will understand the warning: political expression is tolerated until it challenges the wrong interests. Australia’s arts organisations speak constantly about courage, diversity and artistic freedom; Palestine has become the test of whether they mean any of it, and it’s a test that they have failed.

Australia’s Royal Commission into Antisemitism and Social Cohesion was established to confront genuine antisemitism and help repair social division, but what happens when an inquiry intended to promote cohesion appears to elevate politically useful testimony, interrogate dissenting voices and leave the underlying causes of public anger largely unexplored?

We examine the double standards emerging from the Royal Commission, including the contrasting treatment of conservative Zionist organisations and progressive Jewish and pro-Palestinian witnesses such as Sarah Schwartz and Yasmine Johnson. The problem is not that testimony is being tested – it should be – but that it’s being applied unevenly.

We also examine Special Envoy Jillian Segal’s proposal for greater external scrutiny of ABC and SBS reporting on Israel and Palestine, alongside pressure for the public broadcasters to adopt the controversial IHRA definition of antisemitism. Asking independent journalists to produce more favourable coverage of Israel is not a defence of accuracy or balance; it risks turning public broadcasting into a farce and an instrument of political influence. It would threaten editorial independence, free speech and legitimate democratic debate.

Meanwhile, the destruction of Gaza’s schools and universities, the killing of students, teachers and academics, and the wider reasons Australians are protesting receive comparatively little attention. Of course, antisemitism needs to be confronted wherever it appears. But expanding its definition to include criticism of Israel, Palestinian activism or uncomfortable political speech will not protect Jewish Australians or strengthen social cohesion: All it will do is erode public confidence, deepen resentment and import the most repressive features of American political culture into Australia. A Royal Commission that listens selectively, tests evidence inconsistently and treats disagreement as prejudice risks becoming the very thing it was created to prevent: another source of division.

The Royal Commission into Antisemitism and Social Cohesion is – yet again – descending into a forum of “hurt feelings” from anonymous speakers, and advancing the political agendas of Zionist groups in Australia, at the expense of everyone else. The Commission was ostensibly created to address antisemitism in Australia and strengthen that favourite catchphrase of the Prime Minister – “social cohesion” – when, in fact, it seems to be working in the opposite direction, and fewer people understand what this social cohesion is meant to achieve.

As we suggested earlier this week, the latest evidence provided by Special Envoy Jillian Segal is a prime example. Segal has called for an independent body to scrutinise the ABC and SBS over their reporting of Israel and Palestine, arguing that the broadcasters should adopt the IHRA working definition of antisemitism and, by implication, substantially alter their editorial approach to the conflict. More troubling is the suggestion that Australia’s public broadcasters should report more of “the good things Israel does” because their coverage has been “too negative”, as if the media should only operate in an environment where human interest stories and the supposed goodness in the heart of Israel should be presented to the Australian public.

But why should the media go searching for the “positive news” from Israel – under the direction of a body created by Segal – when all it’s going to do is to support a colonial–settler enterprise that’s stolen the land of Palestinians and destroyed so many lives? A state which has killed at least 70,000 people in Gaza – figures which Segal has disputed, even though the state of Israel broadly agrees with the number – and, according to some epidemiological assessments, up to 680,000? Where can this “positive news” be found?

Ironically, Segal’s broader criticism of Australian media is difficult to reconcile with the coverage that has actually been provided. If anything, mainstream reporting has frequently reflected official Israeli perspectives while devoting relatively little attention to the humanitarian consequences of the war in Gaza. Yet even this level of reporting is now regarded as excessively “negative” of the state of Israel.

Segal’s term as Special Envoy to Combat Antisemitism expires in July next year, and it’s unfortunate that we’ll have to tolerate her misinformation and the promotion of an extremist ideology for the next 12 months. A better outcome for social cohesion would be achieved if her tenure was terminated immediately, but given the current state of affairs and the Prime Minister’s lack of backbone on anything to do with Israel–Palestine affairs, that’s unlikely to happen.

The other hearings at the Commission have also shown a similar imbalance. Of course, genuine incidents of antisemitism need to careful examined but what exactly are we hearing at the Commission? What legal checks and balances are being used to verify the evidence, given that most of is being revealed under the cloak of anonymity?

Among the evidence presented was the testimony of a UNSW academic, who described four students allegedly performing Nazi salutes towards him during a business class in 2024, before going on to suggest that it wasn’t clear if they knew he was Jewish, or not. How carefully was this evidence scrutinised by counsel assisting? Other students claimed that friendships dropped off when they revealed themselves as Zionists and supporters of the state of Israel – as if, somehow, we’re meant to try really hard to maintain the relationships with those who condone the actions of a state that’s been committing genocide, war crimes and apartheid since at least 1948. Life is not as easy as that.

Of course, if this is what people are feeling and experiencing, that is real and it can’t be denied. But these are feelings and this is a Royal Commission, not an intimate counselling session where the feelings of hurt can be listened to by a paid psychotherapist, remain unexplored and not interrogated in any way.

Compare this with the material presented by co-convener for Students for Palestine Yasmine Johnson, who was continually questioned by counsel assisting. Johnson said that Israel is a “political project”, and that Zionism is an “ideology which supports the existence of the state of Israel, and that is a racist project”, and every piece of evidence provided by Johnson – who is Jewish – was constantly stalled, interrupted and queried. Of course, this is what a Royal Commission should do, but why is it that the information that runs counter to the narratives supported by Zionist groups is always carefully scrutinised, but no such scrutiny for the endless hurt feelings of Zionists who feel that any opportunity to portray themselves as the victims in their quest for an exclusive supremacist greater Israel project always needs to be taken up?

Nobody should feel that they are being harassed in a university environment – or any environment at all – but we need to get real about this. Although the Royal Commission has tended to focus on evidence of “hurt feelings”, the presence of Johnson – and the testimony provided last week by Sarah Schwartz, human rights lawyer and executive officer at Jewish Council of Australia – shows that there is a broader understanding and different opinions of the Israel–Palestine question within the Jewish community in Australia, than the ones that we are being led to believe through this Royal Commission.

So why do we mainly hear from the extremist elements within the Jewish community? Soon after Schwartz provided her testimony, News Corporation predictably lead the attacks on her, and this follows on from criticism from Zionist lobby groups describing her as “a self-hating Jew”, a “traitor”, as well as distributing memes depicted her as a rat. Why is this behaviour never called out?

And while there’s been a big focus on the hurt feelings on campuses in Australia, not all campus experiences around the world are the same, and these have received very little attention during these proceedings.

Since October 2023, Gaza’s education system has been devastated on a scale without precedent in modern times. Many experts and international human rights organisations have described this destruction as “scholasticide” – the destruction of an entire education system through the killing of students, teachers and academics and the demolition of schools and universities.

During this time, more than 18,000 students, around 780 teachers and education staff, and at least 120 university academics have been killed. Around 97 per cent of school buildings have been damaged, more than 430 school buildings have suffered direct hits from the Israel Defense Forces, and around 92 per cent now require major reconstruction or a complete rebuild. Gaza’s higher education sector has effectively ceased to exist, with 22 of its 38 university campuses completely destroyed, another 14 seriously damaged, and 195 of 206 university buildings are now unusable.

UN experts have also suggested that these attacks will have a devastating long-term impact on the fundamental right to education, culture and freedom of expression for an entire generation of Palestinians, as well as creating long-term trauma. It’s a pattern of destruction that amounts to an intentional effort to erase Palestinian educational and intellectual life altogether, which is one of the clear and internationally recognised definitions of genocide.

But despite this scholasticide perpetrated by the state of Israel, can we still be friends? And please don’t call this out, because something that might have resembled a Nazi salute on campus – can’t be too sure, your honour – really hurt my feelings.

This catastrophe has barely been featured in a Royal Commission ostensibly concerned with social cohesion. The destruction of an entire education system, the deaths of thousands of students and hundreds of academics, and the elimination of Gaza’s universities raise profound questions about human rights and the application of international law. Yet, here in Australia, we have a public forum for some of the most privileged people in society, oblivious to the detrimental and genocidal actions of the state of Israel that they dearly love, complaining that nobody wants to be their friend anymore. It’s absolutely pathetic.

We also heard evidence – if that’s what it can be called – from Professor Josh Keller, representing the Australian Academic Alliance Against Antisemitism (5A), who claimed that using the word “anti-Zionism” with a hyphen is anti-semitic (oops, my mistake – that should be antisemitic) but then failed to explain how this could ever be detected in the spoken language, rather than text on a page.

Yes, we’ve reached the realm of the truly bizarre and insane, where even the innocuous hyphen that has endured without charge since the 1600s, is now apparently guilty of antisemitism. Let’s see what the good professor has in store for the en dash, em dash, and other forms of punctuation, for their alleged crimes against the state of Israel.

This is now extreme overreach – as well as foolish – and the danger is that social cohesion and the opinions that we are told that we need to listen to are gradually being redefined according to the political priorities of particular interest groups, rather than existing as a universal democratic principle. A Royal Commission established to reduce division is now moving towards a situation where criticism of the policies of a foreign government is itself becoming subject to official scrutiny.

Australia’s democratic institutions depend upon free and open independent journalism, open debate and the ability to criticise governments – whether Australian or foreign – without fear of political sanction. If those principles are weakened in the name of “social cohesion”, then the Commission will ultimately reach the opposite of what it was established to achieve.

Every day we’re overwhelmed with political headlines. There’s a new opinion poll or another leadership rumour; a minister who’s under sustained pressure or another round of developments in the Strait of Hormuz. Social media gets fills up with instant reactions, TV panels debate the issue for a few hours, and then by tomorrow, the entire cycle begins again.

But the machinery of politics doesn’t really work like that.

The biggest changes in Australia happen ever so slowly. Governments make hundreds of small decisions that accumulate over the years, institutions change at a glacial pace, political parties evolve – or decline, as we’re currently seeing with the Liberal Party. Civil liberties are chipped away one law at a time, especially in New South Wales, and by the time most people realise something has fundamentally changed, the change has already taken place.

That’s why we created New Politics Quarterly. Rather than producing another collection of opinion pieces, we’ve spent months researching and writing a substantial 90-page quarterly report that steps back from the daily news cycle to explain the deeper political forces reshaping Australia.

This first edition – The End of Political Certainty – examines the structural changes now unfolding across Australian politics. Inside you’ll find detailed analysis of:

• Why the Liberal Party’s crisis runs much deeper than poor leadership or bad election campaigns.

• Whether Labor’s overwhelming parliamentary majority is being wasted through a politics of caution and incrementalism.

• The growing tension between democracy, civil liberties and the politics of “social cohesion”.

• Australia’s deepening strategic integration with the United States through AUKUS and what it means for our long-term sovereignty.

• The way the Gaza conflict has reshaped Australian political debate, media coverage and freedom of expression.

• Housing, inequality, democratic institutions, foreign policy and the long-term trends that will define Australian politics for years to come.

This is not journalism written to fill today’s news cycle: it’s a long-form political analysis designed to remain relevant long after individual headlines have floated off into the ether.

Throughout the report, we connect developments that are usually reported separately, identify emerging political trends before they become obvious, challenge conventional assumptions, and place current events within their broader historical and political context.

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The Royal Commission into Antisemitism and Social Cohesion was established to examine exactly that – antisemitism and social cohesion – but it has become a vehicle for advancing political agendas from Zionist groups in Australia, rather than fostering the social cohesion that was promised. The latest round of material presented by Special Envoy Jillian Segal – calling for an independent body to scrutinise the ABC and SBS over their reporting of Israel and Palestine – is yet another step in the policing and censoring political debate.

Segal’s argument rests on her proposition that Australia’s public broadcasters should adopt the understanding of antisemitism based on the IHRA working definition (which they have so far not adopted, and for good reason) and, by implication, substantially change their editorial approach to the conflict. But this isn’t where her criticism stops. Complaining that coverage is “too negative” towards Israel and asking why broadcasters do not report more of “the good things Israel does” is moving journalism far beyond the goal of accuracy into an attempt to influence editorial decisions. The reason why public broadcasters exist is to make those decisions independently of governments, lobby groups and political appointees, but perhaps that’s something Segal either doesn’t understand or is not overly concerned about.

Her dismissal of the deaths of over 70,000 from Gaza raises the same question. If figures issued by Palestinian health authorities are to be rejected outright – even through Israel agrees that this number is broadly accurate – what independent evidence should replace them? Other reputable bodies such Lancet Global Health believe the figure is actually far higher – around 186,000 – and an epidemiological modeling study published by Australian researchers Dr. Richard Hil and Dr. Gideon Polya, suggests the number could be as high as 680,000.

The coverage of events in Gaza by the ABC and SBS – in fact, all mainstream media in Australia – has been weak and inept, and has generally supported Israel’s narrative and undermined that of Palestinians in Gaza and West Bank, or anyone else who offers support for this cause. Yet this is not enough for Segal and even this poor coverage has to be stamped out, where only propaganda promoting the Zionist cause is acceptable.

The broader danger is that social cohesion is being redefined according to the whims and desires of certain people and groups in Australia. A Royal Commission that was expected to reduce division increasingly appears to be generating new grievances, fuelling disputes over free speech, media independence and political influence. Rather than lowering the temperature, it risks creating the impression that criticism of a foreign government – Israel – is itself becoming subject to official scrutiny. If that continues, the Royal Commission will become less about social cohesion and more about the ability of Australia’s democratic institutions and the independence of the media to hold this type power to account. And that needs to be protected at all costs.

The price of speaking out

The Federal Court might have settled the legal dispute between pianist Jayson Gillham and the Melbourne Symphony Orchestra – ruling in favour of the MSO – but has done nothing to resolve the deeper issues that were revealed by the case. If anything, this judgement has reinforced the reality that Australia’s cultural institutions are increasingly being cowered and only willing to accommodate political speech when it falls within acceptable boundaries that are applied selectively.

Justice Graeme Hill accepted the MSO’s argument that Gillham’s concert was cancelled not because of his views on Gaza, but because management were concerned about the damage to the orchestra’s reputation and commercial interests. That might have been a line-ball legal argument but does little to answer the broader question of why some political statements are regarded as expressions of moral concern, while others blow up and become a major national crisis.

The court also suggested that the MSO would have responded in the same manner had Gillham spoken in support of Israel – which surely caused millions of eyerolls around Australia in unison and shouts of you have got to be kidding – and it’s also a suggestion that flies in the face of the orchestra’s own recent history.

MSO chair Edgar Myer publicly condemned Hamas following the October 2023 attacks without attracting any sanction or provoking claims that he had compromised the orchestra’s neutrality. Gillham, by contrast, briefly introduced a contemporary work by explaining that it was dedicated to Palestinian journalists killed in Gaza.

That short statement resulted in cancellation by the MSO and ultimately led to years of litigation. Whether or not the legal circumstances are different, the contrasting responses show that political speech is tolerated only when it aligns with the preferences of a cultural institution and, obviously, that needs to align with that of Israel and the Zionist movement. Does anyone really believe Gillham would have received the same sanction had he issued a short dedication about the journalists killed in Ukraine? Or if he had offered his support for the Israel Defense Forces? We all know what the answer is.

The wider consequences go far beyond the one pianist or the one orchestra. Arts organisations increasingly present themselves as champions of diversity, inclusion and fearless artistic expression, yet become cautious and cowardly when the subject matter veers over to Palestine. In this type of environment, the greatest threat to artistic freedom is not so much the formal process of censorship but the inherent understanding that some opinions carry serious professional consequences while others are welcomed as evidence of moral leadership.

When politics of protest runs out of road to drive on

Pauline Hanson has spent nearly three decades turning public frustration into political capital, even when she’s been outside of politics, but the latest polling suggests there are limits to how much the same formula can be recycled. After weeks of rising support, One Nation has lost ground following Hanson’s call for Australia to return to a more “monocultural” society – a reminder that while many Australians might be deeply dissatisfied with the political establishment, they are not interested in revisiting these ridiculous and dated culture wars.

The result also exposes a common misunderstanding in Australian politics: the anger in voter land is about economic issues, not cultural issues. Housing issues, wages, less public services and the belief that younger Australians will have a lower standard of living than their parents are structural failures within the economy. Diverting the attention towards identity, immigration and culture war battles might generate the headlines but resolves nothing.

For One Nation, this has become a trap. Every time the party appears to gain credibility by tapping into this economic discontent, it eventually returns to the rhetoric that reminds voters why they kept it at the political margins in the first place. Protest parties succeed all around the world when they expose the failures of the establishment; they then fail when they become consumed by their own ideological obsessions and show to the public that they really have nothing to offer.

The Coalition will be watching closely to this because it knows many conservative voters who previously supported them but have gone off to One Nation, still remain restless. Angus Taylor’s warning that One Nation’s policies would bring “a world of pain” suggests that he’s come to the realisation that it’s better to fight One Nation, than to simply copy their rhetoric and policies, which exist in a threadbare cabinet.

The lesson here is that Australians are still searching for alternatives, especially on the conservative side of politics. One Nation might have been a beneficiary of some of this discontent but its drop in the polls suggests that it won’t be a serious contender until it starts to develop serious policies. Eventually, even protest voters expect more than just the slogans.

When the joke becomes more serious than the politicians

The spectacle of Count Binface in the UK emerging as Nigel Farage’s main opponent in a byelection says far more about the condition of modern politics than it does about satire. The Reform UK leader’s resignation was carefully choreographed as another act of anti-establishment theatre but, instead, it’s become the theatre of the absurd, where the campaign will be dominated by a man wearing a silver bin on his head.

Count Binface’s policies are intentionally ridiculous – nationalising the British singer Adele, capping croissant prices and promising to build “at least one affordable house”. And like all satire, it works because it reflects what many voters understand as the failures of mainstream politics. Politics has been increasingly performative, and highlighted by personalities and outrage, rather than having serious debates about declining public services, inequality, housing affordability or falling living standards.

There is a lesson here that goes far beyond Britain. Politics depends on the public having enough confidence to believe that elected representatives and governments can solve real problems, rather than ignore them or create new ones. And there is a belief that the political class is going out of their way to ignore them. When a man dressed up as a bin can dominate the political conversation, the joke isn’t on him – it’s on the system itself that has failed to live up to any of its promises.