Has racism in Australia become more or less salient since Abdel-Magied left the country five years ago? In terms of diversity and representation, I’d like to think we’re headed in the right direction, writes Fethi Mansouri of Deakin University in this republished article from The Conversation.

Does Australia still have a racism problem? Or does it simply suffer from a diversity and inclusion problem in terms of governance and political representation? Answering these questions is rarely straightforward and always depends on the personal experiences and ethno-religious backgrounds of those asking the question.

Albania’s new government has put together the most diverse cabinet in Australian history: from appointing Linda Burney, the first First Nations woman to be Minister of Indigenous Affairs, to uplifting Muslims Ed Husic and Anne Aly as ministers, in the election of Fatima. Payman as the first Australian senator to wear the hijab.

Diversity and inclusion, at least in political representation, seems to have improved a lot.

Yet, while many national surveys show strong support for diversity and multiculturalism, racism in Australia lives on. Often it is felt most keenly by people from diverse cultural and linguistic backgrounds who dare to disrupt dominant narratives about belonging and national identity.

Despite the country’s growing ethno-religious diversity (as 2021 census data shows), such accounts still reflect a particularly narrow interpretation of the history of settler colonialism. The profound dispossession and violence inflicted on First Nations communities and the failure of the state to address these injustices are often glossed over.

In addition, Australia’s participation in world wars, from the two world wars to the most recent in Iraq, Afghanistan and the so-called ‘Global War on Terror’, continues to invite contested positions.

It is therefore not surprising that the polarization around the Australian history of race relations, colonization, international alliances and contemporary migration continues. Indeed, any criticism or challenge to dominant narratives is often dismissed as part of the ongoing “culture wars”.

A new generation

A flamboyant and outspoken Australian-Muslim social activist, Yassmin Abdel-Magied, is at the forefront of a new generation of activists challenging entrenched structures of power and privilege. Her recent collection of essays, Talking about a Revolution, reflects her life and political activism.

Abdel-Magied refuses to accept the role of the subordinate, the Muslim migrant woman passively resigned to her supposed status as a second-class citizen. Instead, she speaks out. She fights. She writes. She rebels. She revolts.

It’s a powerful voice that has often divided opinion, but it’s a voice that can’t be ignored even when talking about her self-imposed “exile” in London.

Abdel-Magied left Australia in 2017 following outcry over his seven-word ANZAC post “LEST.WE.FORGET. (Manus, Nauru, Syria, Palestine…)” on his personal Facebook page. May -to be ironically, his book explores the power of language, notably through a brief reference to the philosophical work of Ludwig Wittgenstein.

In doing so, she reflects on how particular words and phrases reveal, and often reinforce, power relations, becoming synonymous with socially constructed ‘truths’.

In Australia, taking the phrase ‘Let’s not forget’ in vain is a cardinal sin. Typically used to commemorate military personnel, its use in the context of languishing refugees in offshore detention centers or to express solidarity with the victims of the ongoing occupation of the Palestinian territories has drawn an avalanche of public criticism on social media. and in political circles.

Despite her unreserved apologies, Abdel-Magied, who a few years earlier had been named Young Queenslander of the Year, was stalked mercilessly by many right-wing supporters, especially the Murdoch-owned Newscorp media, and eventually driven out of the country. .

About oneself, society and systems of power

His somewhat eclectic collection of essays includes previously published articles and new writing. The book is organized around two main themes, “The private and public self” and “Systems and society”. Its common thread is Abdel-Magied’s unwavering view of the lingering fissures around race, gender, belonging and identity.

Both of these themes reflect her own journey as a young woman of color in contemporary Australia. Now 31, she was born in Khartoum (Sudan). At the age of 18 months, she moved to Australia with her family following the 1989 Islamist coup. The daughter of Midhat Abdel-Magied, who holds a doctorate in engineering from the United Kingdom, she grew up in Brisbane and would graduate as a mechanical engineer herself.

It’s no surprise, then, that she’s uniquely positioned to tell a story of struggle to disrupt stubbornly static social and political norms.

I first learned about this eloquent young Australian Muslim activist at an international conference organized by UNESCO on diversity and intercultural dialogue. As the founding director of the organization Jeunesse sans frontières, Abdel-Magied was passionate about empowering young people and mobilizing their full potential. She immediately struck me as a powerful advocate who isn’t afraid to speak her mind on the international stage.

Synthesizing a collection written over a long period of time and covering a range of topics is understandably a difficult task. But Abdel-Magied makes optimal use of his usual openness, his characteristic optimism and his critical spirit.

She finally succeeds in conveying a coherent argument around the importance of personal and collective struggles for social justice. Her reflections on activism, belonging, diversity and social transformations provide an authentic account of the lived experience of a racialized Muslim activist.

As she reminds us in the book,

Eurocentric conceptions of race do not come from biology, but from the desire for power.

Indeed, race relations have historically been about power, control and exploitation. Imperial projects use socially constructed racial hierarchies to justify their acts of oppression and subjugation.

Abdel-Magied found, the hard way, that challenging contemporary power structures would inevitably lead to oppressive counter-reaction.

Thus, the book’s second major theme becomes fertile ground for examining key institutional frameworks of power, such as citizenship, and how it can be experienced by different individuals and groups.

Citizenship is a concept that can engender a form of belonging and belonging to a political community. But it is also, paradoxically, invoked to sanction, discipline and exclude.

Perhaps this inherent contradiction played out in Abdel-Magied’s case more than in others. Although she grew up in Australia as a successful model citizen, she was quickly ostracized by institutions and politicians.

When the ABC dropped Abdel-Magied’s Australia Wide show, then-immigration minister Peter Dutton reportedly said “one less, there’s still plenty left”. She was attacked by government MPs with LNP backbench MP George Christensen saying she should consider ‘self-expulsion’.

Significant change

In what ways can persistent injustices and discrimination be resisted to bring about authentic, meaningful and transformative social change?

Exploring this question in his book, Abdel-Magied reflects on current global emancipatory movements such as #Black_Lives_Matter and the #MeToo campaign, and recent political movements across the Middle East and North Africa region.

She remains hopeful that change will happen, believing strongly in the power of words, in resisting oppression. She hopes her essays will inspire readers to “keep believing that a better way is possible.”

In a hyper-diverse and hyper-connected world, citizens no longer passively accept the persistent injustices of colonialism or cultural oppression.

Yet young Australian Muslims struggle to negotiate their individualized and fluid identities alongside their ethno-religious communities and their broader sense of national belonging. Certainly, this collective and racialized portrayal of all Muslims as ever potentially “suspect” subjects needs to be critically deconstructed, allowing for personal agency, the capacity for empowerment, and the potential to bring about social change.

Has racism in Australia become more or less salient since Abdel-Magied left the country five years ago? In terms of diversity and representation, I like to think we’re headed in the right direction, especially in the wake of the recent federal election and recently released ABS census reports.

And even if racism is not going to disappear anytime soon from the Australian landscape, I remain hopeful, like Abdel-Magied, that everyone will one day be able to express themselves without fear of “being Yassmined”.

Fethi Mansouri, Professor/UNESCO Chair Holder; Founding Director, Alfred Deakin Institute for Citizenship and Globalization, Deakin University

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.