For two decades, Australian governments have invoked social cohesion as a national virtue. It appears in budget papers, multicultural statements, speeches, and media briefings.

The phrase suggests harmony, belonging, unity. But for many communities, it carries a different meaning. Beneath its warm surface, social cohesion has often meant suspicion, securitisation, and stigma. It has functioned as the velvet glove over an iron fist: a demand for assimilation disguised as inclusion. Today, as “Save Australia” marches draw crowds unearthing vitriol and hate, while Prime Minister Anthony Albanese describes many participants as “good people”, the duplicity of this language has never been clearer.

The birth of modern ‘cohesion’

The Howard Government redefined how cohesion would be used in Australia.

The Children Overboard scandal in 2001 framed asylum seekers as manipulative and untrustworthy, accused of throwing children into the sea to gain sympathy. Though later disproven, the image cemented asylum seekers as threats rather than victims. Howard abandoned multiculturalism and insisted on “mainstream Australian values”, later introducing a citizenship test that demanded English fluency and civic knowledge as proof of loyalty.

For Muslim Australians, the post-9/11 years were defined by securitisation. As sociologist Scott Poynting observed, Islamophobia was justified as the price of “protecting cohesion” (Poynting 2008). Communities were told they were either with the nation or against it. Cohesion was not about safety – it was about silence.

Inclusion, with shadows

Kevin Rudd and Julia Gillard softened the language. Their Social Inclusion Agenda created a Social Inclusion Board tasked with tackling poverty and disadvantage. On paper, this marked a shift toward equity.

But Howard’s shadow endured. The National Action Plan on Social Cohesion, Harmony and Security remained active, and Muslim leaders were still asked to prove their community’s loyalty by publicly denouncing extremism. Inclusion was offered, but only if communities absorbed the burden of preserving “cohesion".

Loyalty tests and culture wars

Tony Abbott dispensed with subtlety. In 2014, he declared that Muslim leaders must “join Team Australia” (ABC News), turning belonging into a blunt loyalty test.

Malcolm Turnbull’s 2017 Multicultural Statement spoke warmly of unity but linked cohesion directly to counter-terrorism and “shared values". Diversity was tolerated, but only if it fit into pre-approved boxes.

Scott Morrison hardened the hostility. “Stop the boats” became a campaign brand, and the “African gangs” panic in Victoria stigmatised entire communities as criminals. Cohesion rhetoric justified fear campaigns, where conformity was rewarded and cultural difference cast as a threat.

Fragile cohesion and ‘good people’

The Albanese Government has adjusted the tone but left the underlying framework intact. In 2023, amid protests and grief over Gaza, Home Affairs warned that one-sided messaging risked damaging “social cohesion.” The phrase was wielded not to reflect inclusion, but to caution communities against speaking too loudly even if that speech was entirely in line with human rights and international law.

The 2024–25 Budget allocated hundreds of millions to cohesion initiatives – security upgrades for places of worship, funding for multicultural media, anti-hate programs. These are important investments, yet framed as tools for stabilising a fragile resource rather than addressing deep inequities.

And now as “Save Australia” marches rallying people under banners of exclusion, the prime minister has sought to calm tensions by insisting that many who marched were “good people". But describing such participation as “good” normalises intolerance as part of the national fabric. Once again, cohesion is deployed to excuse prejudice when it comes from the majority, while dissent from minorities is treated as a threat.

By her own admission, Minister Anne Aly has admitted: “Making multicultural communities solely and wholly responsible for social cohesion… has added to the perception of multicultural communities being over-securitised” (SBS). Her words capture a long-standing truth: cohesion has never been a shared burden. It has been a demand placed on some, while others are indulged as “good people,” no matter the harm and even illegality of their rhetoric.

Communities remember

These patterns are not forgotten because they have been lived. African-Australians recall being branded as criminals. Muslim Australians remember the demand to “join Team Australia". Refugees still carry the legacy of Tampa and Children Overboard. First Nations peoples know that calls for unity often mean silence about justice.

For marginalised communities, the truth is sharp: cohesion never meant equality. It meant belonging on someone else’s terms.

The phrase social cohesion is not neutral. It has always been elastic enough to sound aspirational while masking coercion. It shifts responsibility for unity onto those already marginalised. It equates dissent with division and dresses up exclusion as harmony.

Australia does not need more “cohesion.” It needs justice, equity and plural belonging. It needs honesty about whose voices are valued and whose are suppressed. Because when far-right rallies are excused as the work of “good people”, while communities fighting for dignity are told not to fracture cohesion, the hypocrisy of the term is laid bare.

It is time to retire social cohesion once and for all. Communities will not forget – and nor should we.

The views expressed in this article may or may not reflect those of Pearls and Irritations.