Australia Must Draw a Clear Line against Hate
When Attorney-General Michelle Rowland unveiled her sweeping federal package on hate speech and extremism in Canberra, it was more than legislation, it was a wake-up call. After years of legal loopholes letting extremists operate just beneath the law, Australia is finally preparing to draw a clear, unambiguous line.
The proposed reforms are among the toughest the nation has ever seen. They introduce aggravated hate-speech offences, criminalise incitement to hatred, strengthen penalties for extremist conduct, and expand bans on hateful symbols. Extremist organisations could be proscribed, with membership, recruitment, funding, or support becoming criminal offences. Parliament has been recalled early so these reforms can be debated urgently, with public consultation through the Parliamentary Joint Committee on Intelligence and Security.
The action is long overdue. Australians have witnessed hate spilling into public spaces. The Sydney Opera House protests in October 2023, just two days after the October 7 atrocities displayed anti-Jewish slogans on the world stage, while the Bondi Beach terror attack tragically demonstrated that rhetoric and action are often two sides of the same coin. Home Affairs Minister Tony Burke has acknowledged that extremist agitators deliberately stayed under existing legal thresholds. Those thresholds that should have been lowered years ago, however, his Western Sydney votes were worth more than the safety and security of Australians. If the government’s first responsibility is to protect its citizens, both Burke and senior leaders, including Prime Minister Albanese and Foreign Minister Wong, must answer why they failed in their duty.
Predictably, critics warn of overreach, suggesting stronger laws could suppress legitimate expression. But the distinction is simple: legitimate expression respects others while hate speech does not. It dehumanises, intimidates, and threatens. Australia’s laws must protect citizens from speech intended to incite fear and violence, not shelter it under the guise of free expression.
This debate is not abstract. The Federal Court case of Western Sydney preacher Wissam Haddad illustrates the stakes. Haddad, also known as Abu Ousayd, violated Section 18C of the Racial Discrimination Act after delivering sermons the court described as “devastatingly offensive” toward Jewish people. He repeatedly described Jews as “vile,” “treacherous,” and “mischievous”, language relying on age-old racist tropes. Most shockingly, his sermons included the statement: “There is a Jew behind me, go and find him and kill him.” Imagine this was all said in reverse. I hate to imagine, however, the attack of the Charlie Hebdo offices in Paris comes to mind.
Haddad’s legal defence argued that his speeches drew on Islamic scripture, the Qur’an and Hadith, and constituted religious teaching and political commentary tied to Gaza, not racial vilification. The court rejected this defence. Justice Angus Stewart concluded the speeches were not delivered reasonably or in good faith, and expert evidence confirmed that Islamic texts do not teach that Jewish people, as a group, possess inherently negative or violent characteristics. Religious framing did not excuse racial vilification or incitement.
Haddad’s case underscores concerns about draft legislation including a defence for conduct consisting “only of directly quoting from, or otherwise referencing, a religious text for the purpose of religious teaching or discussion.” Without careful drafting, such clauses risk becoming a shield for extremists seeking to disguise hate, precisely what Haddad attempted. The law must protect faith while closing loopholes that allow hate to flourish under the guise of religion. The law must also be open to adjusting the thresholds as circumstances change or these fringe groups will forever adapt how they operate to serve their hateful messages.
Countries such as Singapore and the UAE have demonstrated that social cohesion depends on enforcing boundaries around hate, not pretending it is legitimate political expression. In Singapore, Indian imam Nalla Mohamed Abdul Jameel was fined and deported after praying, “Grant us help against the Jews and Christians,” comments the Ministry of Home Affairs deemed “prejudicial to the maintenance of harmony between religious groups and likely to disturb public tranquillity.” He pleaded guilty and was deported under laws designed to protect social cohesion. Australia should take note. Citizenship revocation must also be considered in egregious cases.
These reforms must apply equally to high-profile commentators. Nasser Mashni, of the Australian Palestinian Advocacy Network, operates consistently just below current thresholds, avoiding condemnation for October 7 attacks. Randa Abdel-Fattah, a Palestinian Australian author and academic, has drawn criticism for statements such as “the goal is decolonisation and the end of this murderous Zionist colony” and “if you are a Zionist you have no claim or right to cultural safety.” While framed by supporters as critique of Israeli policies, such rhetoric can be demeaning or intimidating to communities closely associated with that identity. Abdel-Fattah’s involvement in sharing material linked to the doxxing of Jewish Australian creatives further illustrates the tangible risks when influential voices amplify harmful content. Under Rowland’s laws, speech that humiliates, intimidates, or incites hatred, regardless of political context or public profile must be subject to scrutiny.
The reforms also align with the values all new Australians pledge when taking the citizenship oath: loyalty to Australia, respect for democratic beliefs, protection of rights, and obedience to the law. Freedom of expression is vital, but it cannot extend to speech that humiliates, intimidates, or incites hatred. The pledge and the reforms together define the boundaries of civic participation, ensuring every Australian contributes to a lawful, cohesive, and respectful society.
Younger generations are being taught to view Australia through the lens of oppressors and oppressed, without cultivating pride in democratic freedoms. We can acknowledge the past while demanding respect for contemporary citizens and their rights. Hate speech cannot be normalised, and it cannot be protected by vague legal definitions. Sadly, many of us know to well where normalised hate speech leads. We should not have to wait for national tragedy in order to make these changes. Leaders must be proactive, not reactive. They must have the courage to make the tough decisions, not pander to their largest voter base. That is not leadership, it is cowardice.
Faith deserves protection. Debate deserves protection. Hate does not. These reforms, enacted with clarity and precision, offer a long-overdue step toward that goal. The time to act was yesterday; the time to get it right is now.
