By Kevin Glancy – November 2018
Long before the late nineteen seventies Australia had become a growing and vibrant country. Its population and success was mainly built on the backs of impoverished European immigrants. On arrival they were referred to as new Australians by the existing population and generally had to incur a rite of passage before gaining acceptance. They were often called names like ‘wogs’ and poms’ etc and worse.
I can remember a front page headline in the fifties, dominating Adelaide’s main broad sheet newspaper, the Advertiser. It was big and black. ‘Whinging Poms Go Home’ it demanded and it was typical of the times. Although insensitive, unkind and sometimes cruel, the unwelcoming environment cluttered with name-calling served a purpose. I know, because I was on the receiving end.
Like many of our kind who arrived in 1956, we lived in one half of a corrugated nissen hut on a migrant hostel for five and half years. But we ‘no’ complain. Having waited seven years and undergone many prodding, medical examinations along the way, we were extremely grateful for the chance to build a new life in what was referred to as ‘the land of opportunity.’
As a ten year old migrant in the fifties I had an obvious accent and teachers at school would ask me the same question twice so the class could laugh at me…twice. Being new to the country I didn’t understand the vagaries of Australian culture or the various terms used so I was an easy target for ridicule.
Fellow students would call me names and push me around and I remained friendless – untouchable as it were. Barely a day went by without being involved in a fist fight on the school grounds. It was the only way to earn respect in an all boys’ Catholic school.
Terms like discrimination and racism were unheard of and I can assure you that being white was of no help. White male privilege? Forget it. Discrimination did not discriminate. Any newbie was fair game. There was no trauma counselling and no support. Nor did we seek it. You had to take it on the chin, most times literally.
My brother and I were regularly hauled out in front of the school assembly of around 500 students and ridiculed by the teachers; held up as a spectacle for not having the complete school uniform. The fact that we were poor was no excuse.
Within a few weeks of commencing our Aussie school life, we failed to attend a weekend sports event due to ignorance of such requirements. Consequently, on the Monday the whole school was given a half-day holiday. As punishment for our weekend non-attendance, my brother and I spent the afternoon locked up in a dreary classroom on a hot summer’s day until we were let out at 4.30 pm.
On another occasion I can remember being surrounded by a huge ring of students and handed an AFL football to kick. Although I knew my way around a soccer ball, the oval shaped one would be foreign to me and it was; I did my best as they jeered. I failed and they all laughed and jeered some more. A few years later I would make the first eighteen and the oval ball became my friend. I even won an award ‘Most Improved’ after my first football season. I became a proud Australian on that day.
And that’s the point. We were all trying to fit in, working hard to be accepted and grateful for the chance. I wanted to become an Australian and there’s no shame in that. I had already given up all loyalties to things afar. In those days I may as well have been on Mars and I supported Mars in sport and in everything else. I considered myself Australian from the day I stepped off the ship in Melbourne after six weeks at sea, even if no one else did.
This was to be our new home and as immigrants we would be judged on our character and on merit. I had no issue with that. We had to prove ourselves and it was the natural and orderly way of things back then. Bullies were a daily experience and confronting them made me tougher. This fighting spirit, multiplied by the experiences of other new Australians, made the country far more energetic, enterprising and resilient.
Even as a ten year old kid I understood. It was a natural human response I told myself. Like when people come into your house for the first time, there’s a natural suspicion that they might steal your furniture. I had entered a country and the residents were suspicious of my motives. Why shouldn’t they be?
It was an uncomplicated process of integration. Shape up or ship out and there was a sense of over-riding quality control that ensured that the country’s values, traditions and culture stayed on course. Even better, because it was always expanding, coloured and enhanced by the newcomers’ influences. It was at times a difficult marriage between the new, the not so new and the old but in the main, no bones were broken.
Underneath it all there was an underlying spirit and we were all, migrant or not, on the same journey, all going the same way. It was infectious. The drive by new Australians to be accepted inspired the existing population. There were new accents, new foods to explore and coffee lounges, restaurants and new businesses sprang up everywhere. Cultural influences from all over Europe began to spread like wildfire. The chance to prove one’s self was a formula that united us all.
It was an exciting time and migrants weren’t regarded as Greek Australians, Italian, German, Polish or English Australians, we were all Australians. For the newbies; if not then but soon.
It was the lucky country indeed with an added unifying bonus. Back then if war had broken out there would have been no question of whose side anyone would be on. Unlike today, having seen the fruits of the ‘no need to become one of us’ multicultural policy, it was unequivocal. Back then, we knew that we were all on the same side.
But then in the late seventies, the politicians, mainly Labor under Gough Whitlam perhaps influenced by the CIA or some other manipulating external force decided to impose a new and divisive immigration policy. Multiculturalism. By name it sounded harmless; in practice it was an expensive, affirmative action programme that would divide us all and remove any motivation for a newcomer to become ‘Australian’.
Its premise was based on white shame. Labor’s unspoken view was that; ‘you’re all racists and need to be re-educated.’ The Liberals under lefty Malcolm Fraser would later reinforce it and artificial tolerance, vote buying and virtue signalling would all be legalised to ensure the creation of tribes.
The natural forces of assimilation and integration were tossed aside and it would divide this once united country. Later further divisive tools would be brought to bear, influenced by multicultural policy with a range of anti-discrimination laws enforced by the Human Rights Commission. To make some folk more special than others; to reduce our individual freedom.
This was compounded by further discrimination under the politics of identity and quotas that devalued the natural benchmarks of character and merit. Human resource policies were now to be defined by race, ethnicity, colour, gender and the like.
The CIA would undoubtedly gasp at the sheer speed and destruction of what was once a cohesive and united society. ‘We can learn from this! Check it out! It’s in the manual under, Conspiring to destroy a nation by creating division and dysfunction 101.’
Affirmative action, multicultural policy would be the dawn of socialism in Australia and it’s still dividing us.
Before the cries of racism cloud the air, it’s important to understand that most Australians embrace their multi-racial country as I do and when objecting to costly multiculturalism it is not an objection to the presence of mixed races. It’s an objection to the divisive nature of such a policy. Ethnic groups made more special than others, given extra taxpayer dollars to make them feel that way or to buy their votes. The truth we dare not speak, for fear of giving offence.
The idea that a policy designed to encourage immigrants to bring all their baggage; their ethnic hatreds and prejudices to recreate the country from which they came from, has divided us into a country of tribes and anyone with half a brain could have seen it coming. Apart from the obvious question that Labor should have asked themselves at the time; why would anyone wishing to improve their lives by coming to Australia, want to re-create the place that they wanted to leave?
It defies logic. Shouldn’t that be the first test as to the suitability of someone who wants to live here? That when in Rome – are you prepared to do what the Romans do?
Sadly, Labor and Liberal have used multiculturalism to divide our once united multi-racial country. When you couple that with ‘white-shaming’ which is very much in vogue these days it’s a recipe for disaster.
When our children are taught in school to be ashamed of our white history; to see Australia Day as invasion day, with various Councils singing the same tune. Add to that a force-fed diet of domestic violence propaganda. You read it in the papers and see it on the television, The message is clear! All white Australian men are violent and privileged. With even young boys depicted in government sponsored commercials as on their way to becoming more of the same.
Female journalists constantly churning out articles complaining of white male oppression while ignoring their second-class, Middle Eastern sisters whose daily lives are cruelly devalued under government enforced, male oppression. Is it any wonder why young refugees and immigrants are radicalised. While such a formula does not account for extremism it certainly doesn’t help. When the left-wing dominated media constantly tries to make us feel ashamed of ourselves for simply being here.
When you consider that under multicultural policy there is no incentive whatsoever for a newcomer to want to be Australian and it actively encourages newcomers to keep to themselves; that citizenship and its rights are given away without respect for the privilege. A policy funded by the unfortunate taxpayer to the tune of one to two billion dollars a year and it’s still running up huge costs on the annual tab. Taxpayers forced to line the pockets of those who would divide us by race, it begs the question. Was it worth it? Is it worth it?
Is it any wonder why youth is so easily radicalised when we express so much shame for ourselves and for the whiteness of our country? Where are our leaders and those who think they know better? Those fools who still bend over backwards to appease the un-appeasable whilst making defenceless mugs of us all? Those who say that we will not let acts of terror affect the way we live and then line our cities with huge concrete slabs?
In June 2011, Holland one of the first countries to climb on board the multicultural bus, decided that it wasn’t worth it; that the ticket wasn’t worth the price.
On the 16th of that month, Dutch Interior Minister Piet Hein Donner announced in parliament;
The Dutch government will abandon the long-standing model of multiculturalism that has encouraged Muslim immigrants to create a parallel society within the Netherlands. (Note: this would apply to any migrant group that acted in the same way.)
‘The government shares the social dissatisfaction over the multicultural society model and plans to shift priority to the values of the Dutch people. In the new integration system, the values of the Dutch society play a central role. With this change, the government steps away from the model of a multicultural society.’
The new integration policy will place more demands on immigrants. For example, immigrants will be required to learn the Dutch language, and the government will take a tougher approach to immigrants who ignore Dutch values or disobey Dutch law.
A more obligatory integration is justified because the government also demands that from its own citizens. It is necessary because otherwise the society gradually grows apart and eventually no one feels at home anymore in the Netherlands. The integration will not be tailored to different groups.”
The government will also stop offering special subsidies for Muslim immigrants because, according to Donner, ‘it is not the government’s job to integrate immigrants. The government will introduce new legislation that outlaws forced marriages and will also impose tougher measures against Muslim immigrants who lower their chances of employment by the way they dress. More specifically, the government will impose a ban on face-covering Islamic burqas as of January 1, 2013.’
This was supported by 74 percent of Dutch voters who believe that immigrants should conform to Dutch values. Moreover, 83 percent of those polled supported a ban on burqas in public spaces.
Back then there were an estimated 1.2 million Muslims in the Netherlands, which was equivalent to about 6 percent of the country’s overall population. It’s much higher now.
In 2002, Dutch politician Pim Fortuyn was assassinated for his views on Muslim immigration, and in 2004, Dutch filmmaker Theo van Gogh was stabbed to death for producing a movie that criticised Islam. It was incidents like this and the advent of Sharia Law that precipitated this need to rid the country of divisive multicultural policy.
Source on Dutch parliament: Gatestone Institute – International Policy Council.
In the late nineties, I received a phone call from a reader in response to an article I had written in The Issue entitled, ‘The R Word of the Nineties’
It was at a time when Labor’s Paul Keating was Prime Minister. Assimilation and integration had become dirty words. Even discussing the balance of immigration was regarded as racist. Criticism had become racism under Hawke and Keating. The caller, a retired NSW public servant was in tears. I tried to calm him down and asked him why he was crying. He told me that after reading the article he felt ashamed because it had been his job under Labor to hand out money to ethnic groups. I told him that he was just doing his job as a public servant but he said that he was in effect buying votes for the Labor party under the cover of multicultural policy.
You can bet that nothing has changed. It never does where taxpayer funds are concerned.