Moral double vision as Australia heads to the Gulf

Australia claimed impotence over Gaza but is now sending military support to the US-Israeli war in the Gulf. Andrew Brown On the hypocrisy of a nation that prides itself on its justice.

This week Australia announced it would help defend the United Arab Emirates against Iranian attack.

A Royal Australian Air Force Wedgetail surveillance aircraft is being sent to the Gulf along with personnel and advanced defense capabilities as part of a broader effort to help protect regional airspace.

Prime Minister Anthony Albanese described the move as part of Australia’s responsibility to support international stability. Foreign Affairs Minister Penny Wong has confirmed that Australia is considering requests from Gulf states for assistance in defending themselves against Iranian missile and drone attacks.

Australia could suddenly project power deep into the Middle East.

We can suddenly send planes.

We can suddenly send missiles.

Suddenly we can speak in the language of safety and moral clarity.

And suddenly the Middle East isn’t that far away after all.

Because last year Australians were told something very different.

As Gaza was being destroyed, the message from Canberra was that Australia was only a “middle power”. The conflict was distant. Complicated. It is beyond our ability to influence. There was little we could do.

Restraint became the official moral attitude.

The government said this.

The opposition repeated this.

A large segment of the media echoed this.

Anyone who argued that Australia should speak out more forcefully about what was happening in Gaza was treated as naive or ideological. Moral outrage at the country must be tempered with realism, we are told.

However, while Australia was implementing this restriction, Gaza was being erased in real time.

Children were pulled from the rubble of apartment buildings that collapsed during air raids. Entire families disappeared under concrete slabs as neighbors dug through the rubble with their bare hands.

Hospitals were bombed or surrounded until the generators ran out of fuel. Surgeons performed the amputations without anesthesia. Premature babies died in the incubator because the electricity was cut off.

Schools became shelters for displaced families.

Later, those schools were also bombed.

Entire classes were destroyed in the explosions. Teachers and children were buried together under concrete and twisted steel.

Food disappeared.

Aid organizations warned that the famine was spreading. Children were dying of hunger. Mothers diluted the food because there was nothing left to feed their babies.

And in the midst of the chaos came news that startled even hardened war reporters.

Doctors describe children coming to the emergency room with gunshot wounds to the head or chest. Small bodies passed through shattered hospital corridors after sniper shooting in the streets.

This was not propaganda. These were the testimonies of doctors, humanitarian workers and journalists on the ground.

This was Gaza.

‘Caution’ cowardice

So how did Australia react?

Carefully.

For months the political class repeated the same carefully constructed argument. The situation was complicated. Australia’s influence was limited. Strong action accomplishes little.

It’s better to stay balanced.

It’s better to stay restrained.

The government hid behind diplomatic language.

The opposition, particularly loud voices within the Liberal and National parties, went further. They condemned the protests, rejected criticism that Israel is extremist, and opposed humanitarian aid pathways for Palestinians fleeing the destruction.

In some cases the rhetoric became openly hostile. Palestinian suffering was treated as a political inconvenience rather than a humanitarian disaster.

And much of the media followed suit.

Gaza reporting has often been framed in the language of “complexity” and “balance.” While Israel’s security concerns were explored in depth, Palestinian deaths were often reduced to statistics buried deep in reports.

Calls for sanctions or stronger diplomatic pressure have been portrayed as radical or irresponsible.

Constraint became the narrative.

We’re heading towards the Gulf

But now Australian planes are heading towards the Gulf.

Now Australia can defend its airspace thousands of kilometers away.

Now the Middle East is suddenly within our strategic reach.

It is difficult to imagine a clearer example of moral flexibility.

But the hypocrisy doesn’t end there.

At the same time, Australia moved quickly to provide protection to members of the Iranian women’s football team seeking asylum abroad. Many athletes were granted humanitarian visas and were welcomed with words of sympathy and concern.

And in principle this is exactly the right response. People fleeing oppression deserve protection.

However, it is impossible to ignore the contrast with Gaza.

Canberra’s attitude was very different when Palestinian families sought asylum from bombardment and starvation. Politicians warned of security risks. The opposition condemned the humanitarian visa proposals. Some sections of the media have raised fears about immigration.

Mercy suddenly became conditional.

The same political voices demanding the protection of Iranian athletes were among the loudest critics of the offer of asylum to Palestinians fleeing bombs and famine.

It seems some victims deserve shelter.

Others deserve suspicion.

And the media cannot pretend to be innocent in this performance.

When Iran’s crackdowns or attacks on Gulf states dominate the headlines, the language of moral clarity suddenly returns. The victims are humanized. Anger is expressed. The responsibility of democratic nations to respond is emphasized.

hierarchy of pain

But when Palestinian civilians were buried under rubble, hospitals collapsed and children starved, the dominant tone was caution.

A conflict is analyzed with sobriety.

The other one is urgent.

The political class and much of the media are together building a silent hierarchy of pain.

Some lives command anger.

Others barely attract attention.

This raises an uncomfortable question for a country that prides itself on its justice.

Australia likes to imagine itself as egalitarian. The country of the fair is leaving. A nation that instinctively sides with the oppressed.

But myths have a habit of collapsing when they collide with reality.

And the truth is this.

While children in Gaza were starving, hospitals were collapsing, entire families were buried under rubble, Australia was not speaking morally clearly.

Australia spoke cautiously.

When Gulf allies sought military aid and Iranian athletes sought asylum, suddenly the language of principle returned.

Australia has found its voice.

The truth is painfully simple.

Canberra has never been weak.

He was just selective.

And compassion ceases to be compassion when it only occurs when it suits our alliances, our politics, or our interests.

It’s theater.

Light and Hill