The establishment of a royal commission into the tragic Bondi attack is a necessary and welcome step for Australia. However, according to Peter Kurti of the Centre for Independent Studies, its scope must extend beyond the immediate events of that summer afternoon. It must confront a deeply uncomfortable question: what should Australia have done in the two years prior to prevent this moment, and why was it not done?
A Pattern of Hathered Ignored
Since the events of October 7, 2023, anti-Semitism in Australia has become increasingly overt and widespread. This disturbing trend has manifested in schools, university campuses, workplaces, and across social media, escalating into successive mass protests in capital cities. Jewish Australians have endured harassment, intimidation, vandalism, and vilification.
This resurgence was not a sudden outbreak. Community organisations documented it, police recorded incidents, and intelligence agencies tracked its growth. It was a clear and dangerous trend. Yet, institutionally, Australia's response was fatally flawed. The problem was treated as episodic rather than systemic, framed as a cultural issue rather than an ideological one, and dismissed as a social irritation instead of a genuine security concern.
The Four Key Failures of the Australian Response
This fundamental misdiagnosis led directly to four critical failures in the nation's response, failures that the royal commission must scrutinise.
The first failure was one of language and clarity. Political leaders consistently struggled to name the problem explicitly. Anti-Semitism was routinely folded into vague, generic talk of "racism," "community tensions," or "polarisation." By blurring the specific targeting of Jews into a broader narrative of grievance, politicians failed to provide the clear, explicit statement that was needed: that anti-Semitism was a distinct and growing threat requiring a focused, national response.
The second failure was a lack of institutional seriousness. With the problem incorrectly named, it was never properly prioritised. The response was largely relegated to education programs and community dialogue—valuable tools, but utterly insufficient when hatred becomes organised, ideological, and mobilised. What was required was a whole-of-government approach: a standing interdepartmental taskforce, regular security threat assessments that treated anti-Semitism alongside other extremisms, and robust political backing for law enforcement to use existing powers against incitement.
The third failure was the erosion of civic boundaries. A liberal democracy depends on a clear line between legitimate protest and intimidation, between free speech and coercion. Over the past two years, that line fatally blurred. Political leaders fudged the consistent enforcement of laws and failed to establish clear thresholds for policing protests. Ambiguity became permissiveness, and that permissiveness emboldened those willing to escalate.
The fourth, and overarching, failure was one of political courage. There were pivotal moments when leaders, including Prime Minister Anthony Albanese, could have drawn clear lines, spoken plainly, and taken political risks to defend democratic norms. Instead, they chose caution. They hesitated to name anti-Semitism clearly, to confront extremist rhetoric directly, and to insist that multicultural success depends on acceptance of shared civic rules.
The Cost of Policy Drift and the Path Forward
The core issue underlying these failures is a profound reluctance among political leaders to make hard decisions for national security in a fraught geopolitical landscape. By treating ideological hatred as a minor social issue, Australia failed to implement the robust, integrated government approach needed to protect social cohesion—the very foundation of long-term prosperity and wellbeing.
The current approach, heavy on rhetoric but light on genuine strategy, represents a dangerous policy drift in the face of clear danger. This drift has already exacted a high price: the erosion of civic norms, the corruption of public discourse, and the normalisation of hate-filled protest.
The Bondi attack was not inevitable. It was the product of a cascade of smaller failures—of language, focus, and responsibility—that accumulated over two years. The lesson for Australia is not a need for more symbolism or reactive legislation. The lesson is the urgent need for clearer moral and institutional confidence: the confidence to name problems early, to ensure institutions have the capacity to respond, and to consistently enforce the boundaries of our civic life.
Most critically, Australia must accept the political cost of doing so. The greatest danger now is not only that we failed to act two years ago, but that we still refuse to admit we should have acted.
