When it feels like Australia is falling apart, hard truths can bring us back

Faced with violent protests, rising antisemitism and growing cultural division, Australians are entitled to ask each other: what still holds us together?

For decades, we’ve told ourselves a story of multicultural success. We’ve celebrated diversity, embraced immigration and taken pride in being one of the world’s most culturally-rich and socially-stable democracies.

But since 7 October 2023, when Hamas launched its brutal attacks on Israel, that story has come under serious strain. The conflict spilled onto Australian streets, dividing communities, emboldening extremists and testing the tolerance we once took for granted.

When Melbourne schoolchildren chant slogans glorifying terrorism and Sydney synagogues are targeted by pro-Palestinian agitators, it’s time to ask a difficult question: what does it mean to belong to the Australian nation?

The answer cannot be found in a nostalgic longing for a simpler past. There is no going back to some imagined monocultural Australia. Nor will it be found in pious appeals to ‘diversity’  as if that were enough to sustain a country.

The blunt truth is that we are more divided — morally, culturally, ideologically — than we’ve been in decades. And unless we rethink what it is that binds us together, Australia’s social cohesion will continue to fray.

The hard reality is that we no longer agree on many of the values we once assumed we shared. Whether it’s gender, religion, parenting or freedom of speech, moral consensus has become elusive.

But that is not a sign of failure — it’s a feature of modern pluralist democracies like ours. What it means is that national identity can no longer be built on a narrow set of cultural norms.

Instead, it must be grounded in something stronger: shared civic commitments.

This approach doesn’t require all Australians to think the same or worship the same. But it does require a shared allegiance to the rule of law, democratic procedures and the peaceful management of moral and cultural differences.

In short, it is an approach that asks not for uniformity, but for restraint — and a renewed commitment to the common good.

We’ve seen what happens when that commitment weakens. Since the Israel-Gaza conflict reignited, public trust has taken a hit.

So too has our willingness to extend basic civility to those with whom we disagree. And we know that social media feeds on outrage.

Political leaders hesitate to condemn antisemitism without also linking it to Islamophobia. Even institutions that once upheld civic unity — schools, local councils and the media — now often seem confused about what they’re meant to defend.

Some argue that the solution is to double down on ‘Australian values’.

But if we mean vague slogans like ‘mateship’ or ‘a fair go’, we’re missing the point because they are only meaningful when they reflect real obligations — like defending the dignity of others; even those whose views or lifestyles we don’t share.

Others suggest multiculturalism has gone too far and it’s time to pull back. But while multiculturalism is certainly under strain, this too is a dead end because cultural diversity is here to stay, like it or not.

What’s needed now is not less multiculturalism, but a better kind — one that recognises difference, yes, but also one that insists on the civic responsibilities that come with national belonging. And this means some serious policy work lies ahead.

Our citizenship test should focus less on cultural trivia and more on democratic understanding. Civics education should teach young Australians how to handle disagreement respectfully, not just how to memorise historical dates.

Community dialogue programs should move beyond feel-good slogans and confront difficult issues; such as freedom of religion, the rights of minorities and the limits of tolerance.

Above all, we need political leaders willing to speak clearly about what pluralism really means — and does not mean. It does mean protecting the right to be different; it does not mean tolerating violence, segregation or the importing of foreign hatreds.

We need to maintain a firm line around practices that violate human dignity; including child marriage, gender-based violence or the incitement of racial hatred.

Pluralism does not require abandoning moral judgment. It requires a commitment to legal equality and mutual forbearance.

We also need to recover the idea of patriotism — not as mindless flag-waving, but as a civic emotion.

Patriotism means caring enough about one’s country to want it to work for everyone.

It means investing in our common institutions, participating in debate with decency, and recognising that what we share matters more than what divides us.

For if we want a future where difference can be embraced, we must reimagine what binds us together.

The bond of national identity cannot be cultural sameness; it must be a civic compact — freely chosen, widely understood and fiercely defended.

The alternative is not pretty: fragmentation, fear and the erosion of public trust. As a nation, we can do better.

But only if we start telling a new story about what it means to be Australian — a story grounded in civic duty, not just cultural diversity.

Peter Kurti is Director of the Culture, Prosperity & Civil Society program at the Centre for Independent Studies.

Photo: Joseph Kim.