They marched in their tens of thousands, a river of discontent flowing through the heart of Australia’s cities on its national day. To the political and media class, they are easily dismissed – a fringe element, a problem to be managed or explained away. But to dismiss them is to ignore a deep and growing vein of anxiety, a palpable sense that the foundational bargain of Australian society has been broken. This is not merely a protest against immigration; it is a lament for a lost Australia, a plea from a generation that feels disinherited in its own land.
My Australia was built on a different bargain. Growing up in the sun-drenched playgrounds of Sydney’s east, my childhood was a vibrant tapestry of backgrounds. My prep school was a microcosm of the post-war world: a sprinkling of European accents, the aromatic hint of Middle Eastern spices at lunchtime, and the easy, unforced camaraderie of the playground. We didn’t talk about ‘diversity’ or ‘inclusion’. We simply were. We were Australians.
I ate dolmades, lasagne and cevapi at friends’ birthday parties, and then we spilled onto the same patch of grass to play footy. Identity politics did not exist. Our shared identity did.
When I moved to Sydney Boys High in the mid-1970s, my closest friends were Italian, Greek, Austrian, Croatian – and one fair-dinkum Aussie whose father had fought in New Guinea. The common thread running through all their families was not a passport or a government benefit, but a profound work ethic and a determination to build something lasting.
None of their parents arrived and stepped straight into comfortable suburban semis. The formula was universal: years of hard labour in the regions – picking fruit, working in factories, building railways – followed by the great Australian dream of a small business. Fruit shops in Cremorne with links to growers in Griffith. Greek groceries in Paddington. Pastry factories expanded one oven at a time. Laundries, cafés, milk bars. They were entrepreneurs, taxpayers, and community pillars.
And yes, they even contributed to the more colourful corners of Australian life. The post-war migrants didn’t just give us delis and bakeries – they enlivened the gambling scene too. Some of it entirely legal, some of it famously Kings Cross. In the 1970s and ’80s, card rooms behind cafés and back-room bookmaking were part of the city’s folklore. But even there, the unwritten rules held: debts were paid, families were supported, and work always came first. Excess was self-funded, not subsidised – and no one mistook indulgence for entitlement.
There was perhaps no clearer example of this bargain than the European Jews who arrived here after the war. Many had survived the Holocaust. They came with little more than trauma, discipline, and an unshakeable belief in work. From nothing, they built industries that helped modernise Australia – in retail, property, manufacturing, and media. Their names became synonymous with ambition, resilience, and success.
They did not arrive demanding accommodation to the nation; they adapted to it. They did not seek to dilute Australian culture; they strengthened it. Their loyalty to Australia was absolute because the bargain was clear: contribute first, belong fully. Citizenship meant obligation as much as opportunity.
They asked little of the state and gave much in return. Welfare was a last resort, not a lifestyle. Extremism was rejected, not indulged. Violence was condemned, not rationalised and excused as grievance and never imported as a feature of life in Australia.
None of them ever went to Bondi and started shooting people that may have haunted their childhoods.
They understood something we have forgotten: Australian citizenship was not a right to be claimed, but a privilege earned through contribution. That was the greatness of an immigration system that worked for Australia – selective, purposeful, and unapologetically national in outlook. We were the fulcrum generation, the last to fully experience the benefits of a system that valued national interest above globalist idealism.
Today’s immigration policy bears little resemblance to that bargain. It has become an economic con – not because immigration itself is bad, but because it is now being used to disguise failure. For more than two decades, governments have substituted population growth for productivity, inflating headline GDP while living standards quietly stagnate.
This is not nation-building. It is statistical manipulation.
The Productivity Commission’s own data is damning. Productivity growth – the only sustainable source of higher wages and national prosperity – has slumped to around 1.2 per cent over the past decade, barely half the rate achieved in the 1990s. This collapse has occurred alongside record immigration. If mass migration were the economic elixir its advocates claim, productivity should be surging. It is not.
When governments cannot generate real growth, they pad the numbers. Add more people and total output rises. Shops sell more. Services expand. The economy looks bigger. But output per person flatlines. Australians are working harder to stand still. This is growth without enrichment – a sugar hit masquerading as reform.
The beneficiaries of this model are obvious and concentrated. Asset owners enjoy relentless housing demand and soaring prices. Big business gains access to a permanently abundant labour pool, suppressing wage growth. The costs are borne by everyone else – especially younger Australians – through stagnant incomes, exploding rents, and home ownership receding into fantasy.
Nowhere is the damage clearer than housing. In the mid-1990s, the median home cost about four times the median household income. Today it exceeds eight times nationally and well over twelve times in Sydney and Melbourne – the primary destinations for new arrivals.
This outcome is not accidental. Planning failures and tax distortions matter, but population pressure multiplies every failure. Governments have not built cities for a growing nation; they have imported a nation and forced cities to absorb the shock. The result is a permanent bidding war where locals compete with investor capital, inherited wealth and population-driven demand – all while being lectured about ‘supply constraints’.
The social costs are just as corrosive. Post-war immigration succeeded because integration was expected. Today’s system prioritises numbers over cohesion. Family reunion dominates intake settings, despite selecting for neither skills nor integration capacity. Chain migration into enclaves may be humane, but it is not a serious nation-building strategy.
The welfare state compounds the problem. What was once a safety net has become, in some cases, a lifestyle support system, eroding the ethic of contribution that defined earlier migration waves. More troubling still is the casual importation of illiberal values. Granting permanent residency and citizenship to those hostile to free speech, gender equality, secular law, or democratic norms is not tolerance; it is national negligence.
None of this is an argument against immigrants. Many integrate, work hard and strengthen Australia. They too are failed by a system that treats people as economic inputs rather than future citizens.
The solution is neither radical nor cruel. Australia must abandon the quiet pursuit of a ‘Big Australia’ and return to national-interest migration. Skilled migration should dominate intake settings – young, capable, English-proficient entrants in fields that genuinely lift productivity. Family reunion must be capped and conditioned on self-sufficiency and integration. Population targets must be transparent and aligned with housing, infrastructure, and environmental capacity. And citizenship must once again require a demonstrated commitment to Australia’s liberal democratic values.
Public anger on this issue is not xenophobia. It is economic realism. Australians can see that the promise has been broken – that they are told the nation is growing richer while their own prospects shrink.
A country does not prosper by endlessly adding people while failing to create value. It prospers by lifting productivity, rewarding effort, and preserving a fair go.
Immigration must once again work for the nation – not the United Nations.
