Australia’s Special Envoy to Combat Islamophobia, Aftab Malik, recently released his landmark report:  A National Response to Islamophobia: A Strategic Framework for Inclusion, Safety and Prosperity.

It is the first time the federal government has produced a comprehensive strategy to address Islamophobia. It draws on evidence from Muslim communities, service providers, and researchers across the country.

Some commentators have compared Malik’s report to Jillian Segal’s  recent plan to address antisemitism. The contrast could not be sharper. Segal’s report has been widely criticised for its highly problematic definition of antisemitism, for conflating criticism of Israel with antisemitism and for proposing extraordinary overreach in universities which academics have  vehemently opposed. Education scholar Jane Kenway  argues Segal’s plan “is dangerous and should be rejected” because it undermines critical debate and silences dissent.

By contrast, Malik’s report draws on wide-ranging evidence of pervasive anti-Muslim, anti-Arab, and anti-Palestinian hate in Australia. It points to the need for structural change without institutional overreach. Its release also coincides with long overdue  UN recognition of Israel’s genocide in the Gaza Strip, the launch of the  Anti-Palestinian Racism in Schools report, and the Australian Government’s recognition of the state of Palestine. A reminder: questions of racism and religion in Australian public life and education are always tied up with global politics.

What the report covers

The first half of the report sets out the evidence: what Islamophobia is, how it plays out in everyday life and its impacts on people and communities. Muslim Australians describe being harassed on the street, stereotyped in classrooms and excluded from civic life. The report highlights both interpersonal incidents and the deeper structural and institutional dimensions of Islamophobia.

The second half outlines 54 recommendations for a whole-of-government strategy, with responsibilities shared across departments and actions ranging from legal reform to public awareness campaigns.

What the report says about education

• The report calls for a renewed approach to tackling Islamophobia in Australian schools and universities. It recommends that the Department of Education, in partnership with national and state bodies, establish national anti-racism frameworks with implications for curriculum, teacher training, school policies and research:
• Curriculum: ensuring that Muslim histories, cultures, and contributions are accurately represented.
• Teacher training: embedding professional learning so teachers can recognise, prevent and respond to Islamophobia in their classrooms.
• School policies: establishing safe reporting mechanisms, clear anti-harassment procedures and stronger protections for students’ religious expression (for example, around dress and prayer).
• Data and research: investing in ways to track the extent and impact of Islamophobia in schools.

These recommendations suggest a strong commitment to change, but they raise familiar questions. How will they be implemented in practice? Are they genuinely new? As Sara Cheikh Husain notes_,_ the report risks being overcautious and toeing the line if it avoids naming systemic power imbalances directly. And, as  highlighted elsewhere, educators and communities have long been calling for action on Islamophobia. The real significance may lie less in the ideas themselves and more in the fact that they represent formal government recognition at a politically charged moment.

Why this matters for teachers and students

If implemented, the recommendations could help reshape the way that Australian schools approach diversity and inclusion.

For Muslim students, the potential benefits are clear: greater visibility in the curriculum, safer and more respectful school environments and stronger protections when incidents occur. This could translate into a greater sense of belonging, better well-being and more opportunities to thrive academically and socially.

For non-Muslim students, inclusive curricula and school cultures offer a chance to dismantle stereotypes early, learn about the diversity of Muslim lives and build genuine intercultural understanding.

Teachers, however, will carry much of the responsibility. They play a pivotal role in shaping how students see themselves and where they belong. Research shows teachers’ professional identities are not fixed but constantly negotiated within institutional norms and expectations. This is why tokenistic “awareness” sessions rarely work; real change depends on relational, ongoing professional learning.

Professional learning about Islamophobia will need to be specific, sustained, and supported by leadership. Teachers will need practical strategies for responding to prejudice in the classroom, for supporting students who experience discrimination and for facilitating challenging conversations.

For  many Muslim educators in particular, teaching is experienced as a moral and spiritual vocation, lived at the intersection of faith, gender and race. Hence addressing Islamophobia requires an  intersectional approach because, as Uzma Asif contends, Muslim educators “construct identities by virtue of exclusion”.

Seen this way, Malik’s recommendations are about more than curriculum reform and reporting systems. They are an opportunity to reshape the cultural conditions that influence both how teachers see themselves and how students come to feel a sense of belonging at school.

So what’s next?

The report lays valuable groundwork, though much work still lies ahead.

On a practical level, how will progress be effectively implemented, monitored, and resourced? Complementary practical guidance already exists (see, for example, teaching resources related to the Australian Human Rights Commission’s  _Racism. It Stops with Me_ initiative and state government  anti-racism education materials). But the challenge is coherent national uptake rather than scattered tools.

On a deeper level, there are questions about how schools navigate the complex politics of religious and cultural identity, especially in contexts where debates about Palestine and the Middle East have already become flashpoints.

Emerging research may help answer some of these questions. For example, the  Anti-Palestinian Racism in Schools register is documenting the silencing and discrimination faced by students and staff who speak up about Palestine. Current doctoral research (led by lead author Lara Alqudah under the supervision of fellow authors Catherine Hartung and Perri Campbell) is exploring more deeply the experience of Muslim teachers, listening to how they bring their whole selves into Australian schools, as professionals, as people of faith and as members of diverse communities. Islamophobia is part of that story, alongside questions of belonging, identity and the everyday negotiations of staffroom culture, curriculum, and school leadership. Placing these experiences alongside the Special Envoy’s report helps us see why recommendations on paper matter so much in practice.

A welcome step

The Special Envoy’s report is a welcome step in recognising Islamophobia as a systemic issue in Australia. The challenge now is ensuring schools become places where every teacher and student, Muslim and non-Muslim alike, can learn, teach and belong in a context shaped by global atrocities and local realities. This is not about shying away from discomfort; we know that education is always political, contested and difficult. Rather, as the Anti-Palestinian Racism in Australian Schools report attests, schools and systems must be willing to engage with pedagogies of discomfort, as well as the experiences of Muslim teachers and students themselves.

Republished from EduResearch Matters, 20 October 2025

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