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Abuse of Protection Visas Government Speeds Up Review Process to Benefit Genuine Refugees

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As a signatory to human rights conventions, Australia has a protection visa system that allows people who are persecuted around the world to apply for asylum after arriving in Australia legally. However, this system is currently being abused, with the number of protection visa applications increasing significantly, resulting in applicants often having to wait for years. Whether the Australian government’s reforms to the protection visa application process will be successful remains to be seen.

Who is eligible?

Following the 2019 anti-extradition movement, hundreds of thousands of Hong Kong residents have left their homes in search of a freer and more stable future. As one of the countries operating under a democratic system, Australia boasts a robust social welfare system and a high standard of living, attracting many young people to come to Australia through student, working holiday, or short-term work visas. However, as their original visas approach expiration, many individuals, lacking sufficient information or driven by emotional anxiety, are misguided toward another “immigration shortcut”—the Protection Visa (Protection Visa, Category 866).

As of 2024, over 580 people from Hong Kong have applied for this Protection Visa, with only 5 successful approvals. This indicates that many applicants lack understanding of the visa requirements and relevant legal standards. Under Australian law, only those who can prove they face clear and specific risks of persecution—such as threats to personal safety, imprisonment, or torture—qualify for asylum under the Refugee Convention. What constitutes such risks varies from person to person. The Australian Department of Immigration advises those considering this option to seek professional immigration lawyer assistance rather than making unilateral assumptions or being influenced by unlicensed immigration advisors.

Many young people who participated in the 2019 protests have considered applying for this visa. They may currently be in Australia on various visas, but they fear political retaliation upon returning to Hong Kong, even if they have not faced explicit threats to their personal safety. They are experiencing a form of “psychological persecution” that is difficult to quantify—a long-term fear of the future and restrictions on freedom of speech, as well as concerns about potential reprisals upon returning to Hong Kong. However, these subjective feelings, without concrete evidence to support them, often fail to meet official approval standards.

The “persecution” criteria for protection visas are clearly defined in the system, but some applicants conflate personal psychological stress with systemic persecution, leading to a gap between expectations and actual outcomes. This misunderstanding sometimes stems from misinformation within the community and is also influenced by certain intermediary agencies that package and promote it as a “strategic maneuver” to replace immigration.

 

The “business” of immigration

The situations in China and Malaysia are different. In recent years, the number of protection visa applications in these two places has significantly increased. Some applicants from China were originally students or tourists, and due to their limited English proficiency, they often view this pathway as “low-threshold immigration option.” This is because applying for this visa does not require an English proficiency test or any technical skills; it only requires a fee of $45, making it a low-cost option. This has led many Chinese students to apply for the 866 protection visa when their student visas are about to expire, as they lack other immigration options. Meanwhile, some Malaysians use this visa as a stepping stone for legal employment. They typically submit protection applications before their student or tourist visas expire, not to seek asylum, but to extend their stay and work in Australia through a bridge visa. Although most of these applications are ultimately rejected during the approval process, the process is often time-consuming, tying up review resources and sparking concerns about the abuse of the protection system.

From Hong Kong residents’ ignorance and misunderstanding of protection visas to Chinese and Malaysian applicants disregarding the visa’s original purpose and using it to extend their stay and work legally, the credibility and legitimacy of the protection visa system have been gradually eroded. What was intended as a humanitarian aid system has gradually evolved into what some view as an “immigration backdoor.”

 

The Original Intent and Degeneration of the Asylum System

The Protection Visa (Protection Visa, Category 866) is intended to provide asylum and permanent residency opportunities for those who face the risk of persecution in their home countries due to race, religion, nationality, membership in a particular social group, or political opinion. As long as these individuals are already in Australia, they may apply for asylum. If they provide sufficient evidence to demonstrate that returning to their home country would expose them to life-threatening risks, torture, imprisonment, or other severe human rights violations, they may be granted asylum and permanent residency in Australia.

Such a system was originally intended to safeguard human dignity. However, over time, it has begun to be viewed by some as a “tool for extending stay.” . The approval process is already cumbersome, with each case requiring individual investigation, document verification, and interviews, often taking years to process. During this period, applicants are issued a Bridging Visa, allowing them to legally reside, work, and live with the same freedoms as ordinary residents.

This “waiting period,” from a certain perspective, has become a form of “alternative residency period” that does not require eligibility review.

What is even more concerning is that even if the application is ultimately rejected, the applicant may appeal, and the case will then enter the Administrative Appeals Tribunal (AAT) process. If dissatisfied, the applicant may further appeal to the Federal Court, extending the process by several years and once again prolonging the residency period. While the openness of this legal pathway is intended to be a safeguard of democratic institutions, it has, in practice, become an abused “delay tactic.”

Among various visa categories, the protection visa, which does not require skill, language, or financial thresholds, has become the “easiest to apply for and most likely to be extended” option in the eyes of many students and short-term workers in Australia. Compared to the technical immigration visa, which requires academic qualifications and occupational assessments, or the business investment visa, which demands substantial financial guarantees, the protection visa appears to require only a $45 processing fee, a statement, and some supporting documents to initiate the process. However, this “low-threshold” appearance often masks the high review standards behind it. The actual approval process still relies on the definitions in the Refugee Convention and international law to determine whether the applicant faces genuine and unavoidable persecution risks. The reviews conducted by the immigration department and courts are even more rigorous, often taking years and consuming significant resources.

Many individuals who originally came to Australia for education, when their courses are about to end and their visas are about to expire, may choose to apply for a protection visa to extend their stay and secure legal work rights if they are unable to successfully apply for skilled migration or switch to another visa. Many of them come from countries such as China, India, and Malaysia, with some having been misled by intermediaries into believing this is a viable “residence strategy.” For some students with limited family financial resources, staying in Australia for an additional two or three years, working legally, and sending money back home may be sufficient to recoup their costs, even if they are ultimately denied and neither they nor their families can ever return to Australia. They may still feel it is “worth a try.”

 

Is there really no cost involved?

For those applying for the 866 protection visa, there are indeed costs involved. First, during the waiting period, they will obtain a bridging visa, but this does not necessarily grant them work rights. For example, individuals who originally held tourist visas without work rights must still cover their own living expenses, have no access to medical insurance, and face significant challenges in daily life.

Additionally, during the waiting period, they cannot leave Australia. Those approved cannot return to their original country of residence (this is understandable, as they claim to be persecuted and cannot simply return). Many are thus separated from their families for an extended period, something they did not initially anticipate.

If the application for a protection visa is unsuccessful and there are no other valid visas available, these individuals may be deported, and some may be required to stay in detention centers. Additionally, they may owe the Australian government certain fees upon departure, which must be settled before they can leave. Many have found that the income earned during this period is significantly reduced as a result.

Furthermore, applicants must pay substantial fees to intermediaries and immigration lawyers to represent them in their applications and appeals. This is precisely the scam employed by unlicensed immigration consultants. There have been unscrupulous intermediaries in Malaysia and other countries openly soliciting “customers” to come to Australia through this route. Ultimately, it is these young people seeking opportunities who bear the costs.

In the long term, those whose protection visa applications are rejected will have a permanent record on file with the immigration authorities, making it extremely difficult for them and their families to apply for other visas and return to Australia in the future. For many, this has a severely detrimental impact.

 

What are the chances of success?

According to the final approval data for permanent protection visas in the 2023–24 fiscal year, 304 applicants from China were approved, resulting in an approval rate of just 10.16%; Malaysia had 257 approvals, with an approval rate of 22.99%. In contrast, out of 900 applications from Myanmar, the approval rate reached a staggering 99.45%. This significant disparity indicates that the proportion of applicants from certain countries who genuinely meet the definition of the Refugee Convention is extremely low, highlighting the misuse or even abuse of the system.

Moreover, this “delay-based residency” mindset is beginning to influence short-term visitors who originally had no intention of immigrating. They may have simply wanted to earn money in Australia, but found that protection visas have become a low-cost, high-return workaround. Such abuse not only overloads the overall review system but also delays the approval of other cases.

The system was originally well-intentioned, but when loopholes in the system are exploited, that goodwill gradually deteriorates. Protection visas have evolved from a last line of humanitarian defense into a “de facto immigration channel” in the eyes of some. This leaves those who truly need assistance facing even longer and more burdensome waits.

 

What’s next for the government?

As the number of protection visa applications continues to rise and approval backlogs worsen, the Australian government has gradually recognized the potential misuse of the system and began implementing reforms and tightening measures in 2024 to reduce approval times.

The government has implemented multi-faceted policies to combat the abuse of protection visas. During the Liberal Party’s tenure, the number of applications surged from thousands to tens of thousands, yet the government ignored the situation, resulting in cases taking years to process, allowing abusers to exploit the system. However, starting in 2024, the government significantly increased the staff handling such visas and established the principle of prioritizing new cases, reducing the waiting time for visas to one-eighth of the original duration. Many cases were completed within weeks or months, significantly reducing the waiting time for applicants to remain in Australia.

The Australian government has also launched community outreach campaigns to educate prospective applicants for protection visas about the potential consequences of abuse and to avoid being misled by intermediaries. Additionally, the Australian government offers assistance to applicants who voluntarily withdraw their applications and communicates with their home countries to ensure they will not face punishment upon return.

 

Conclusion

A protection visa originally designed to assist individuals facing persecution and extreme hardship has been widely abused due to unscrupulous business practices, leaving those who truly need assistance unable to receive it, which is regrettable. However, as economic migration increasingly becomes the mainstream, this is an unavoidable reality. The Australian government must respond more sensitively to effectively implement its original immigration policies.

 

 Article/Editorial Department, Sameway Magazine

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From the Farrer By-election to Australia’s Shifting Political Landscape

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A by-election in Australian politics has recently delivered a result that has surprised many observers. On 9 May, the electorate of Farrer in southern New South Wales went to the polls, where One Nation candidate David Farley secured victory with 57.4% of the two-candidate-preferred vote, or 14,643 votes, ahead of independent candidate Michelle Milthorpe. This result made him the first non–Coalition-affiliated member ever elected in the seat since its creation in 1949, and also marked One Nation’s first-ever seat in the House of Representatives.

Farrer has long been regarded as a safe Liberal stronghold. For the past 25 years, the seat was held by former Liberal leader Sussan Ley. Yet in this by-election, the Liberal Party not only lost the seat, but also fell to third place in first-preference votes and was excluded from the final count altogether. This is more than an isolated electoral defeat. It signals a warning: the long-standing political order built around Australia’s two major parties is beginning to fracture, while One Nation is shifting from a fringe protest movement into a political force capable of challenging established conservative power. This development may reshape Australia’s political landscape in the years ahead.

One Nation: No Longer Just a “Rural Party”?

The result in Farrer is broadly consistent with One Nation’s traditional base. The electorate is a rural seat, shaped by agriculture and mining, where issues such as agricultural development, water allocation, and regional economic survival have long been central concerns. One Nation’s core support has historically come from similar rural communities.

In many of these areas, social networks tend to be relatively homogenous, with limited direct engagement with migrant or multicultural communities. As a result, some voters may be more receptive to simplified and forceful political messaging around anti-immigration sentiment, opposition to globalisation, protection of local industries, and resistance to “big government”.

However, recent by-elections suggest that One Nation’s support base may no longer be confined to rural Australia. It is increasingly extending into outer suburban areas. The Nepean by-election on 2 May offers a clear example. Although Nepean is not a rural seat, it is also not inner-city, but rather an outer metropolitan community. In that contest, while Liberal candidate Anthony Marsh managed to retain the seat, the party’s primary vote fell by nearly 10%, and One Nation secured close to 25% of the vote.

This suggests that One Nation’s appeal is expanding beyond its traditional rural strongholds into outer suburban electorates. From this perspective, Farrer may not be an isolated case, but part of a broader pattern that could emerge in similar outer metropolitan seats.

Erosion of the Two-Party Base

Recent by-elections and polling trends indicate that Australia’s two major parties are experiencing a gradual but significant decline in political dominance.

The Liberal Party lost a long-held seat in Farrer and also faced a clear drop in primary vote support in Nepean. In the 2024 Werribee by-election, Labor narrowly held the seat with less than a 1% margin in the two-party-preferred vote, while its primary vote dropped by around 17%. Meanwhile, the February 2026 Newspoll showed One Nation’s national support at approximately 27%, compared with Labor at 33%, and well ahead of the Liberal–National Coalition at around 18%.

These figures reflect a broader pattern of voter fragmentation and declining loyalty to the traditional two-party system. Importantly, a vote for One Nation does not necessarily indicate full agreement with its more extreme positions. In many cases, it reflects dissatisfaction with the political establishment and a lack of trust in mainstream political narratives.

At the same time, Australia’s trust in government remains at historically low levels. Rising living costs, increasing rental pressure, and limited policy responses have contributed to growing frustration among voters. In this environment, major parties often avoid contentious issues due to electoral risk. This cautiousness can leave voters feeling that political language is overly vague or disconnected from lived reality.

As a result, when politicians—such as those from One Nation—speak in more direct and forceful terms, even when controversial, they can still attract support from segments of the electorate seeking clearer and more decisive positions.

Major Parties’ Irresponsibility

Beyond electoral outcomes, a more fundamental question concerns the strategic choices of the major parties.

In both the Farrer and Nepean by-elections, Labor chose not to field candidates. While this may reflect a calculation that victory was unlikely, it raises a broader issue: democratic participation is not solely about winning. Elections are also opportunities for engagement, representation, and maintaining long-term trust with communities.

When parties consistently withdraw from contesting certain seats, they risk weakening their connection with voters who may already feel disengaged. Over time, this absence can contribute to further political alienation and indirectly strengthen alternative parties.

On the other hand, the Liberal Party’s approach to One Nation also reflects strategic uncertainty. As both occupy the right of the political spectrum, the Liberals have often avoided directly confronting One Nation, fearing it could further alienate conservative voters. However, this hesitation has left the party struggling to clearly define its own position, while failing to prevent voter drift toward One Nation.

For many conservative voters, the Liberal Party increasingly appears politically unclear. When a party appears unwilling to firmly defend or articulate its own ideological position, voter trust naturally erodes.

Meanwhile, Labor, despite its public commitment to multiculturalism, has at times adopted cautious positions on immigration-related issues in order to avoid losing support in marginal seats. This balancing act can also contribute to perceptions of inconsistency or lack of clarity.

Even with One Nation’s rise, a significant portion of Australian voters remain opposed to its more extreme positions. The key question, therefore, is whether the major parties still have the capacity—and willingness—to reconnect with disillusioned voters and offer a credible political alternative. If they continue relying on outdated political messaging while avoiding difficult debates, they may face increasing electoral consequences, particularly in upcoming state elections in November.

A Changing Political Landscape

As public trust in the major parties continues to decline, voters are increasingly open to alternative political voices. One Nation’s rise may be only the beginning of this broader shift.

The Farrer result is also notable for another reason: the Liberal Party did not make it to the final count, which instead came down to One Nation and an independent candidate. This indicates that independents are also gaining traction and may play a more significant role in future elections.

Australia’s two-party system is therefore facing structural pressure. The issue is not only that the major parties are underperforming, but also that they appear to lack fresh political imagination. Faced with housing pressures, cost-of-living challenges, migration debates, infrastructure strain, and generational uncertainty, both parties often rely on familiar language and established frameworks without offering a compelling new direction.

As a result, voters are no longer confined to choosing between Labor and the Liberals. Increasingly, attention is shifting toward new faces and alternative voices.

Some voters turn to One Nation because it directly expresses their dissatisfaction with the status quo. Others do so not out of full ideological agreement, but out of frustration with mainstream politics. The key question moving forward is not whether Australia will swing sharply to the right, but whether a new political force can emerge that bridges the gap between distrust of the major parties and rejection of political extremism.

Such a force may not come from traditional party structures. Instead, it may require leaders capable of articulating a new narrative for Australia—one that addresses economic pressure and social change, without resorting to the exclusion of migrant communities or minority groups.

The Next Phase of Australia’s Political Language

Migration has long been a politically charged issue in Australia. As parties continue to highlight the economic and social pressures associated with immigration—particularly through the framing advanced by One Nation—the concept of “multiculturalism” has, for some voters, lost part of its persuasive power.

While this does not reflect a broader rejection of immigration within Australian society, it does suggest that prolonged reliance on established political language may reduce public engagement and interest in these debates.

The next stage of Australia’s political language may therefore not lie in repeating existing value statements, but in constructing a more responsive public narrative. Rather than focusing solely on “multiculturalism” as a slogan, there may be a need for a framework that emphasises mutual understanding, real-world interaction, and shared participation. Rebuilding trust between communities and institutions will likely matter more than reinforcing ideological divides.

From this perspective, current political turbulence may not be entirely negative. It may instead represent a turning point. Australia’s political future may already be entering a new phase. For voters, the key challenge is not blind loyalty to any one party, but a renewed commitment to critical thinking, scrutiny, and participation. As citizens move beyond passive acceptance of established political structures and begin actively seeking alternatives, Australian politics may be entering a new era.

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One Year Into Europe’s Rearmament, Where Does Australia Stand?

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As global attention shifts toward the conflict between Israel and Iran, the Russia-Ukraine war appears to be gradually moving away from the centre of international headlines. Europe, Russia and China have all appeared relatively subdued on the surface, with none of the dramatic diplomatic clashes or military mobilisation seen in the early stages of the war. But silence does not mean stagnation. On the contrary, away from the spotlight, a deeper strategic restructuring is quietly unfolding.

Among the most significant developments is the European Union’s “ReArm Europe” initiative proposed last year.

Reshaping the order

In March last year, the United States announced a suspension of part of its military aid to Ukraine, sending shockwaves through Europe’s security architecture. Around the same time, the European Union formally launched its “Readiness 2030” defence plan, proposing up to €800 billion in military and defence investment.

The plan focuses on joint weapons procurement, expanding defence industrial capacity, strengthening air defence systems, drone and artillery production, while continuing support for Ukraine.

This is not simply an increase in defence spending, but a signal of a broader historical shift.

For decades, Europe was built on one central assumption: security would be guaranteed by the US-led transatlantic system, allowing Europe to focus on economic growth, welfare and market integration. However, as Washington’s strategic focus shifted toward the Indo-Pacific and President Donald Trump returned to the White House with a different stance on NATO and aid to Ukraine, Europe has begun to realise that the security framework underpinning the post-war order may no longer be stable.

The question is no longer whether Europe needs defence, but whether the system that once provided Europe with security still truly exists. The implications of this shift also extend far beyond Europe itself.

For Australia, which has long relied on US security guarantees and remains deeply tied to the Anglo-American strategic system, Europe’s rearmament raises a similarly sensitive and practical question: as the world moves back toward militarisation and American security commitments become increasingly conditional, can Australia still assume the old order will remain intact?

The end of the peace dividend

Since the end of the Cold War, Europe has existed in what was often described as the era of the “peace dividend”.

Following the collapse of the Soviet Union and the end of East-West confrontation, many European countries reduced defence spending, downsized their militaries and allowed defence industries to decline. Security was treated as an established condition, while economic growth, free markets and regional integration became the core priorities of European politics.

For nearly three decades, this arrangement was considered almost self-evident, with many believing that large-scale war had disappeared from the European continent. That assumption is now rapidly reversing.

From Germany’s announcement of a €100 billion special defence fund, to large-scale military expansion across Northern and Eastern Europe, and the EU’s push for joint defence investment and industrial cooperation, European military spending is rising at a pace unseen since the Cold War.

Countries are reopening arms production lines, increasing ammunition stockpiles and discussing joint defence and rapid deployment mechanisms. Europe’s strategic thinking is undergoing a fundamental transformation.

European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen reflected this atmosphere during a joint press conference in 2023, stating that Europe must adopt “a bolder security policy” and build defence capabilities capable of sustaining long-term wars and crises.

This is not merely a numerical increase in spending, but a shift in policy logic itself.

When America becomes uncertain

If the Russia-Ukraine war was the trigger for Europe’s rearmament, the deeper driving force may actually be uncertainty surrounding the United States.

For decades, Europe’s security structure rested on a core assumption: regardless of global developments, the United States would ultimately intervene and guarantee Europe’s security. From NATO to US troop deployments across Europe, the transatlantic order was treated as a permanent reality and enabled Europe to reduce military spending while prioritising economic development.

That assumption is now beginning to weaken.

From Trump-era demands for NATO allies to dramatically raise defence spending, to fluctuating US support for Ukraine and increasingly ambiguous American security commitments, Washington’s role has become less predictable.

For Europe, this uncertainty may be even more destabilising than Russia itself. What worries Europe is not only external threats, but whether the United States is still willing to bear the cost of intervention when crises emerge.

If the Cold War question was “will the enemy attack?”, today’s question has become “will the ally still show up?”

As security can no longer be fully outsourced, Europe has little choice but to rebuild its own defence capabilities.

The concept of “strategic autonomy”, once championed mainly by France and viewed by some European states as overly idealistic, is increasingly shifting from political slogan to practical policy.

Europe has realised that while it may still need the United States, it can no longer fully depend on it. But autonomy comes at a cost.

The ability to disagree

Germany and Spain have emerged as two of the most active participants in Europe’s rearmament efforts.

Germany’s defence spending is expected to rise from €95 billion in 2025 to €162 billion by 2029, while Berlin is also reviving military conscription with plans to expand troop numbers to around 460,000 personnel. For a country that suppressed its military role for decades after World War II, the shift is highly symbolic.

At the same time, these countries have begun displaying greater diplomatic independence than in previous years.

On issues ranging from the Gaza war and tariffs on China, to Iran and NATO military deployments, Germany has not always fully aligned itself with the United States.

In early 2026, Germany also led efforts to establish the “E6” alliance alongside France, Poland, Spain, Italy and the Netherlands. The grouping is seen as an attempt to form a new European core bloc focused on rare earth resources, defence industries, energy and strategic supply chains, while reducing internal EU decision-making constraints.

To some observers, the move represents an extension of the idea of a “multi-speed Europe”, in which major powers integrate first to create a more agile strategic centre.

Spain has also increasingly diverged from Washington’s positions.

During the recent US and Israeli military actions against Iran, Spain openly opposed the operations and refused to allow certain American military bases on Spanish territory to be used for support activities. Reports later emerged that Washington was considering trade pressure against Spain, highlighting how tensions between Europe and the United States are now moving beyond diplomatic disagreements into deeper strategic conflicts.

Taken together, these developments suggest Europe is increasingly preparing for a world in which American leadership may no longer be guaranteed.

This does not mean Europe seeks a break with the United States. NATO remains the core framework of European security, and the US is still Europe’s most important military power. However, Europe has begun recognising that the old order — in which the US led and Europe followed — is gradually weakening.

A new geopolitical centre of gravity may already be forming.

Australia’s place in a changing world

For Australia, these changes are particularly significant.

Australia’s security outlook has long been shaped by geography. As a continent surrounded by oceans, Australia has faced few direct land-based threats, while neighbouring countries have historically lacked the military capacity to mount a full-scale challenge.

This is why Australian defence thinking traditionally focused on “forward defence” and reliance on allies.

That environment is now changing.

As China’s influence in Pacific island nations expands — through ports, security agreements and infrastructure projects — Beijing is increasingly entering what Australia once regarded as its strategic backyard.

This does not necessarily mean China intends to launch military action against Australia, but it does suggest Australia’s surrounding strategic environment is being reshaped.

The real issue may not be whether China would attack Australia, but whether Australia can still assume control over its surrounding region as it once did.

From a purely military perspective, directly invading Australia would be extremely costly. Australia’s vast territory, dispersed population and lack of concentrated strategic targets reduce its attractiveness as a military objective.

For China, economic influence through trade, investment and diplomacy is likely far more effective than war in achieving access to resources or strategic leverage.

But this also reflects a broader reality: future great power competition may not necessarily take the form of conventional war.

Instead, competition may increasingly involve supply chains, technological penetration, ports, infrastructure, energy dependence, cyber systems and information influence.

In other words, the definition of security itself is changing.

Rethinking Australia’s position

If Europe’s rearmament exposes fractures in the post-war order, Australia faces a deeper question: how should it reposition itself amid this global restructuring?

For decades, Australia’s security policy has rested on two pillars — military reliance on the United States and historical and intelligence ties with Britain.

From ANZUS to AUKUS, these relationships have continued to deepen. Australian strategic thinking has largely been built around the Anglo-American security framework.

But if American commitments to Europe are no longer guaranteed, can Australia still assume it will always remain a priority?

This is not an argument against the importance of the US-Australia alliance, but a recognition of its potential vulnerabilities.

In an increasingly multipolar and fragmented world, overreliance on a single security provider may itself become a strategic weakness.

Should US domestic politics shift further inward, middle-power allies such as Australia may face growing pressure to develop greater strategic autonomy.

This raises another question that Australia has rarely confronted seriously: beyond the United States, are there alternative forms of security cooperation?

Europe as a partner?

Historically, Australia’s defence cooperation with Europe has remained relatively limited, partly because Europe itself long depended on American protection.

But this may now be changing.

As Europe expands its defence industries and pursues more independent strategic frameworks, countries such as France and Germany may increasingly emerge not only as economic partners, but also as important security actors.

France in particular already maintains overseas territories and military presence throughout the Pacific, from New Caledonia to French Polynesia.

Europe has always existed within Australia’s broader strategic environment — it simply was not previously viewed as a major security player.

As the United States becomes less predictable, Australia may need to consider deeper military and technological cooperation with Europe.

Australia is, in many ways, a geographically isolated country. Compared with Europe or Asia, Australians have historically faced fewer direct military threats, resulting in less public focus on defence and security issues.

Geographical distance long provided a sense of safety.

But in the era of drones, cyber warfare, satellite surveillance and supply-chain competition, distance is becoming less meaningful.

Australia can no longer rely solely on geography for protection.

This means Australia may need to place greater emphasis on international cooperation, technological capability and regional diplomacy, rather than relying exclusively on traditional military alliances.

Defence industry and strategic resilience

Europe’s rearmament also highlights another lesson for Australia: defence is not only a military issue, but an industrial one.

Australia’s defence model has long relied heavily on foreign suppliers, with most major military platforms sourced from the United States or allied nations.

During periods of stable globalisation, this model appeared efficient. But in periods of geopolitical tension, supply chain disruption or regional conflict, dependence can quickly become vulnerability.

In wartime, countries prioritise their own needs. Shortages of missiles, semiconductors, rare earths, energy and critical components could leave Australia exposed.

The war in Ukraine has already demonstrated how even European countries struggled with ammunition shortages.

Australia’s most symbolic defence initiative in recent years has been the AUKUS nuclear submarine partnership.

The project reflects Australia’s strategic anxiety — a desire to establish stronger long-range deterrence capabilities in the Indo-Pacific.

But nuclear submarines remain primarily strategic tools with limited broader impact.

By contrast, Europe is increasingly focused on rebuilding domestic defence manufacturing and linking military spending with industrial development.

From drones and air defence systems to AI-based military technologies, Europe is shifting toward a more flexible, technologically advanced and decentralised defence model.

Such an approach not only strengthens strategic autonomy, but also drives research, supply-chain integration and advanced manufacturing.

This remains an area where Australia still lags behind.

Multiculturalism and internal pressure

Australia’s multicultural structure also complicates the implications of global fragmentation.

As a highly immigrant-based society, Australia maintains deep cultural, economic and demographic links with many parts of the world.

Chinese, Middle Eastern, Indian and European communities all contribute to Australia’s diversity, which has long been considered one of the country’s strengths.

In the era of globalisation, multiculturalism enhanced Australia’s international connections and provided advantages in talent, language and diplomacy.

But as the world moves toward greater geopolitical confrontation, diversity may also create new pressures.

Political conflicts overseas increasingly spill into Australian society through protests, ethnic tensions, hate speech, disinformation and foreign influence campaigns.

This does not mean multiculturalism itself is a problem, but rather that Australia can no longer remain insulated from global conflicts as easily as it once could.

International crises are no longer distant diplomatic issues — they increasingly affect domestic politics, public sentiment and national security.

Future security challenges may therefore involve not only military threats, but also the ability to maintain social cohesion, openness and democratic values in a fragmented world.

The more unstable the international environment becomes, the harder it is for Australia to remain detached from it.

A fragmenting world

The world is shifting from unipolarity toward multipolar competition, from outsourced security toward strategic autonomy, and from traditional military power toward technologically driven warfare.

The era defined by American dominance, globalisation, low conflict and low militarisation is gradually fading.

In its place is emerging a more unstable world shaped by supply chains, strategic competition and geopolitical rivalry.

For Australia, this is not simply a trend to observe, but a reality that must be confronted.

As old security structures become less stable, the central question for Australia is no longer simply “which side to stand on”, but how to build resilience and capability amid uncertainty.

That includes reconsidering relations with the United States, Britain and Europe, while also rethinking the connections between defence, technology, energy and industry.

Future security competition may ultimately depend less on military strength alone and more on overall national capability.

The world is changing — and the pace of change may be faster than governments can adapt.

The question has never been whether change will come, but how many countries will be prepared once the old order truly ends.

 

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Victoria’s Budget: The Illusion of Surplus and the Reality of Debt

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On May 5, the Victorian Labor government announced in its 2026/27 budget that it had achieved its first fiscal surplus in seven years, describing it as the result of “disciplined financial management.” Official figures indicate that the state expects a surplus of approximately AUD 1.048 billion, while emphasising that no new taxes have been introduced this year in an effort to ease cost-of-living pressures.

From a political messaging perspective, this narrative is clearly appealing: a post-pandemic fiscal recovery, maintained public services, and no additional tax burden. For voters, this combination is naturally attractive. However, when this “surplus” is examined within the broader fiscal structure, it reveals a far more complex reality—one shaped by underlying debt pressures and long-term fiscal risks.

Where does the surplus come from?

From a structural fiscal perspective, the so-called “surplus” is not the result of a sustained improvement in the government’s financial position. Instead, it relies largely on two types of one-off or non-recurring revenue.

The first is additional funding from the federal government. Budget figures show that Victoria received around AUD 4 billion more in federal transfers than originally expected this financial year. Under Australia’s federal system, state governments are already highly dependent on such transfers, particularly in areas like healthcare, education and infrastructure. While legitimate, this funding essentially represents external support rather than a reflection of Victoria’s own economic strength.

The second source is one-off revenue from assets and licensing arrangements, particularly in the gambling sector. For example, the operator of Keno and The Lott paid approximately AUD 1.15 billion to the state government in exchange for extending its licence for another 40 years. In simple terms, this approach brings forward revenue that would otherwise have been collected gradually over decades.

From a fiscal standpoint, such income does not improve the government’s long-term financial capacity. It merely shifts future revenue into the present, making the current balance sheet appear stronger than it actually is.

As such, this “surplus” is less a sign of improved fiscal health than a timing adjustment—an accounting outcome created by bringing future income forward.

The real issue: debt and future fiscal pressure

The budget does not fully reflect Victoria’s overall fiscal position. Major infrastructure spending is not directly accounted for in the operating balance, as it is largely funded through borrowing. This allows headline figures to appear relatively stable, even as total debt continues to grow.

According to budget projections, the government expects to borrow an additional AUD 40 billion over the next four years, indicating that debt has not yet peaked and will continue to expand. By 2029–30, net debt is projected to reach approximately AUD 199.3 billion, with annual interest payments rising to around AUD 11.8 billion—equivalent to roughly AUD 32 million per day. In other words, even without any new spending, the government will still face a substantial daily cost simply to service past borrowing.

Historical comparisons make the trend even clearer. In 2014, Victoria’s net debt stood at around AUD 21.8 billion. By 2029–30, it is expected to approach AUD 200 billion—an almost tenfold increase. Over the same period, annual interest payments are projected to rise from approximately AUD 2.1 billion to AUD 11.8 billion, more than five times higher.

To manage these pressures, the government is relying heavily on continued growth in future tax revenue. Payroll tax—currently the largest revenue source—is projected to increase by around 15% by 2029–30, while land tax revenues are also expected to rise.

However, this reveals a deeper structural issue. Much of the economic activity driving higher tax revenues is itself supported by debt-funded infrastructure spending. In other words, employment growth and revenue increases are, to a significant extent, built on borrowing rather than purely organic economic expansion. As a result, even rising revenues struggle to keep pace with the compounding growth of debt and interest obligations.

In effect, fiscal pressure has not disappeared—it has simply been deferred into the future. As for how this debt will ultimately be repaid, the government has yet to provide a clear plan. Treasurer Jaclyn Symes has not outlined any concrete timeline for repaying principal, instead stating that the current priority is to “stabilise” debt rather than reduce it.

How did Victoria reach such high debt levels?

To understand Victoria’s current debt position, it is necessary to look back to the period under former Premier Daniel Andrews. At the time, interest rates were historically low, making borrowing relatively inexpensive. The government adopted an approach that treated debt as an “investment tool”: as long as borrowed funds were directed toward infrastructure capable of generating long-term economic returns, short-term borrowing was seen as justified.

Under this logic, the government accelerated a range of major infrastructure projects, including the Metro Tunnel, the Level Crossing Removal Project, the North East Link, and later the Suburban Rail Loop. These projects aimed to address long-standing infrastructure gaps, improve transport efficiency, and stimulate employment and economic activity in the short term.

However, most of these investments were not funded through current revenue, but through long-term borrowing—effectively shifting the cost burden into the future.

The problem is that economic conditions do not remain static. As interest rates rise, previously manageable borrowing costs can escalate quickly. This model came under further strain during the COVID-19 pandemic. Faced with prolonged lockdowns and economic disruption, the government significantly increased spending to support businesses and employment, relying heavily on debt as a short-term stabilisation tool. While this helped cushion the immediate impact, it also accelerated the growth of public debt to one of the highest levels in the country.

Victoria’s fiscal structure further compounds the issue. Unlike resource-rich states such as Western Australia, which benefit from substantial mining royalties, Victoria relies heavily on property-related taxes and payroll tax. This makes government revenue more sensitive to fluctuations in the housing market and economic growth, weakening its capacity to manage high debt levels during downturns.

In modern public finance, high debt is not inherently problematic. What matters is whether borrowed funds generate sustainable long-term returns and whether there is a credible plan for repayment. The issue is not simply how much is owed, but why the debt was incurred and how it will be repaid. On this front, Victoria has yet to provide a clear and convincing answer.

Relief measures: shifting the focus

Rather than directly addressing structural fiscal challenges, the government has shifted its policy focus toward cost-of-living measures aimed at improving public perception. These include free or discounted public transport, vehicle registration rebates, and the continuation of vision care services for school students. These policies are highly visible and easily felt by the public, offering immediate relief in daily life.

At the same time, the budget sets aside approximately AUD 5 billion in reserves, part of which is expected to be used to reach wage agreements with teachers—likely to minimise the risk of industrial action ahead of the November state election.

These measures can be seen not only as social support, but also as a strategic allocation of resources—prioritising short-term, tangible benefits to maintain public support in the lead-up to an election, even as longer-term fiscal pressures remain unresolved.

The government has also emphasised that “no new taxes” have been introduced this year. While this is politically appealing, the broader context tells a more complex story. Since Labor came to power in 2014, Victoria’s overall tax burden has risen significantly. Data shows that combined state and local government tax revenue per capita increased from around AUD 4,066 to approximately AUD 6,605—an increase of more than 60%, making Victoria one of the highest-taxed jurisdictions in Australia.

In recent years, the government has expanded its tax base through various measures, including higher payroll taxes for large businesses to fund mental health services, the introduction of a windfall gains tax, additional levies on businesses to repay COVID-19 debt, as well as increases in land tax and the expansion of emergency services levies.

Against this backdrop, the claim of “no new taxes” is less a sign of tax relief than an indication that the government may have reached the limits of its capacity to impose further tax increases.

What should a responsible government do?

As Opposition Leader Jess Wilson has argued, the budget reveals a cash deficit of approximately AUD 7.7 billion, alongside rising debt, increasing tax burdens and growing interest repayments. This stands in clear contrast to the government’s emphasis on a “surplus,” and highlights the absence of a coherent plan to address underlying fiscal challenges.

In the face of expanding debt, a responsible government should not focus on presenting favourable headline figures or shifting attention elsewhere. Instead, it should openly acknowledge the scale of the problem and clearly communicate the associated risks and trade-offs to the public. Without transparency about where debt comes from, how it is being used, and how it will be repaid, the issue becomes not just economic, but one of public trust and governance.

A credible fiscal strategy should include clear timelines and pathways—outlining how debt growth will be managed, when and how principal repayments will begin, and how the revenue base can be strengthened without placing excessive burden on taxpayers. At the same time, greater transparency is needed in explaining the relationship between borrowing and spending, so the public can distinguish between long-term investments and short-term fiscal support.

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