A principle applied inconsistently is one thing. A principle that appears to bend under pressure is something far more troubling.

The Albanese government, through Home Affairs Minister Tony Burke, has justified visa refusals with the assertion that Australia “will not import hate.” It is a statement most Australians would instinctively support. But recent decisions risk creating a different perception, that policy is not only being applied unevenly, but is increasingly reactive to the loudest and most aggressive voices in the room.

That is a dangerous path.

Consider the case of DJ Haram, who, during a performance in Australia at Sydney’s Biennale festival, delivered a five-minute diatribe accusing the country of complicity in genocide, lashing out at what she described as a “Zionist entity,” and glorifying “martyrs.” For many, this crossed well beyond political commentary into rhetoric that was inflammatory, divisive, and, in parts, echoed language widely understood as antisemitic. Reports from the performance also point to chants invoking “intifada” and absolutist slogans about the region, phrases that, regardless of intent, are widely interpreted by many as endorsing confrontation rather than coexistence.

When you glorify “martyrs,” you are not engaging in abstract debate. You are, in effect, endorsing a narrative that many interpret as a call to globalise the intifada. That is not simply provocative language; it is rhetoric that risks fuelling division and, potentially, violence.

And yet, there have been no meaningful consequences.

Tony Burke now has expanded ministerial powers over visa decisions and cancellations. If those powers are robust enough to deny entry to individuals already in transit to Australia, they are surely robust enough to act decisively when someone on Australian soil engages in conduct that appears to breach the very standard the government claims to uphold.

DJ Haram should have been subject to immediate review, with deportation the following morning. The failure to even test those powers in such a high-profile case speaks volumes. It suggests either a reluctance to act or an inconsistency in how those powers are applied. It is not credible to argue that such rhetoric somehow falls just below a legal threshold and therefore warrants no action particularly when far more pre-emptive measures are being taken against others before they even arrive.

Placed alongside other recent controversies where public figures have led or participated in chants that many Australians found deeply troubling, the pattern becomes harder to ignore. When incidents like these occur in quick succession without clear response, it creates the impression that such rhetoric will be tolerated. This is part of normalised Jew hatred.

The virtue signalling by the Albanese government is, in this context, astounding. What is the point of strengthened hate laws if they are not applied when it matters most? Laws that exist only on paper, but are inconsistently enforced, risk becoming symbolic rather than substantive.

Critics argue that a broader political calculation is at play, that the government is wary of alienating segments of the electorate and is therefore hesitant to act decisively in cases that may provoke backlash. Whether or not that is the intent, the perception alone is damaging. Governments must be seen to act on principle, not politics. Afterall, it is their sole duty to protect their citizens from external threats.

This concern is not emerging in a vacuum. It has been building since the days following October 7, 2023, when extremist rhetoric surfaced publicly in Australia. Incidents such as the widely reported chants on the steps of the Sydney Opera House where phrases like “gas the Jews” and other explicitly antisemitic slogans were broadcast to the world left an indelible mark on the national conscience. That moment, occurring as the sails were lit in blue and white in solidarity with Israel, was widely seen as a test of Australia’s resolve in confronting hate.

For many Jewish Australians, the response since then has felt uneven. Tragically, based on history repeating itself, it lead to the Bondi terrorist attack in Sydney last December.

It also raises a broader question about public funding and accountability. Why should taxpayers be expected to subsidise arts festivals that become platforms for political diatribes and divisive rhetoric? Artistic expression should be encouraged—but there is a clear distinction between performance and provocation. Play your music, whether good or bad, and let it stand on its own merit. The moment a taxpayer-funded festival or event becomes a vehicle for ideological messaging that many view as hateful or exclusionary, public confidence in that funding erodes.

At the same time, other individuals are being denied visas under the justification that Australia must not “import hate.” The contrast is difficult to reconcile. If the standard is truly about preventing the spread of hatred, then it must be applied consistently regardless of the political framing or the identity of those involved.

Without that consistency, decisions begin to look less like principled governance and more like selective enforcement. It seems obvious, “imported hate” is not the reason Israeli visas are denied.

There are, however, signs that not all institutions are willing to look the other way.

It is promising that some speaking opportunities for high-profile figures associated with controversial rhetoric appear to be narrowing, and that corporate Australia is beginning to act in line with its stated values. Sponsors, in particular, are sending a clear message: their brands will not be associated with language they view as hateful or divisive.

The decision by PwC to withdraw from the Sydney Biennale following the controversy surrounding DJ Haram’s performance is a notable example. It reflects a growing willingness among major organisations to move beyond statements and take tangible action when lines are crossed. Let’s hope more follow the example of PwC

This is not about shielding any country, including Israel, from criticism. Democracies depend on robust debate. But there is a clear line between criticism and hate. Accusations framed in absolutist terms, coupled with language that dehumanises or glorifies violence, risk crossing that line.

Governments cannot afford to appear reactive to hostility, nor selective in their enforcement of values. If Australia is to stand firmly against hate, it must do so without fear or favour and without yielding to the loudest or most extreme voices. Australia must remember it needs to keep Australian’s safe and not import and tolerate threats to its moral fabric.

Because once a principle is seen to bend, it doesn’t just weaken a single decision. It undermines the credibility of the system itself and the trust of the people it is meant to serve.

© The Times of Israel (Blogs)