When I first arrived in Melbourne four years ago, my introduction to the country’s political landscape came in an unexpected form – posters.
They bore the image of a fellow Afghan from the Cameleers’ era, accompanied by the curious label: Aussie. I spent weeks pondering its significance and discovered much later that this striking image was the work of Australian artist Peter Drew, who sought to challenge the exclusivity of national identity and acknowledge the often overlooked histories shaped by the White Australia policy.
The man on the poster, Monga Khan, was one of many Afghan cameleers who, in the 19th century, played a crucial role in connecting Australia to the wider world by helping to build the telegraph lines across the vast outback. As a journalist who fled Afghanistan during the fall of Kabul and was now settling into life in Melbourne, I was also reflecting on my own relationship to this curious label.
Living in the multicultural area of Casey in the city’s south-east, I have noticed the complexities of identity struggles within various communities, and how these tensions echoed through the political arena. During the 2022 Victorian state elections I volunteered with the electoral commission, giving me an intimate perspective on how different party manifestos shaped the national fabric, often revealing gaps in political representation for minority communities.
Having spent much of my career fighting for democracy and equal rights in Afghanistan’s autocratic and feudal system, I find it fascinating to witness how those same principles of identity and representation unfold here in Australia.
Nearly two centuries after Monga Khan roamed this land, Muslim Australians like myself continue to navigate the political implications of our identity. The challenge is not merely one of representation but of belonging – ensuring that in the pursuit of political solutions no community is left feeling alienated from the very nation it calls home.
This tension has heightened since the Gaza war and was also laid bare in February when Creative Australia decided to revoke Lebanese Australian artist Khaled Sabsabi’s appointment as Australia’s representative in the Venice Biennale just five days after he was selected, following negative commentary around two of his historical works.
Sabsabi has described his anger at the decision and how damaging the past two months have been: “I’m a Lebanese Muslim Australian artist. Regardless of my ethnicity or where I was born, regardless of my faith, I am an Australian artist, who has lived here for the majority of my life. So therefore I should be entitled to the rights of every other Australian citizen.”
He has also described what he called a “double – or triple – standard” when it comes to the idea of citizenship in Australia. “Who is Australian? What is Australian? These definitions, and these hierarchies of citizenship, all they do is just further divide the nation, further cause infighting and breed more hate, breeds more distrust of the other.”
These questions – and this sense of alienation – has emerged in conversations with people in my community in Casey and are no doubt present in other parts of the Muslim Australian community. It has no doubt been exacerbated by the war in Gaza, and the rise in reports of Islamophobia in the community (the number of in-person incidents doubled between late 2024 and early 2023, with women and children disproportionately targeted).
It’s unsurprising in this context to see groups such as Muslim Votes Matter and The Muslim Vote emerge ahead of this election. These organisations are hoping to gain support from Muslim Australians who feel left out of the major parties and disenchanted by the status quo.
While any push to amplify the voices of a marginalised community should be welcomed, these groups face the challenge of representing large and diverse communities which have different political beliefs within them. Regardless of their success at the ballot box, I hope they serve as a wake-up call for the major parties in seeking more inclusivity within their own ranks.
While I am not yet entitled to vote in Australian elections, I will be watching with interest as migrants such as myself wrestle with the idea of identity and citizenship, and what exactly it means to be “Aussie”. I hope they find their voice.
Shadi Khan Saif is a Melbourne-based journalist and former Pakistan and Afghanistan news correspondent
