I recently sat down for a meal with a friend who was originally from Beijing. She’s an Australian citizen now—grateful to be one, she’ll tell you—but when she first arrived all those years ago, things weren’t easy.
The conversation started light—work, travel, the absurd price of groceries. But then I asked her about those early days, settling in Perth some 25 years ago. What was it like? How did people treat you?
She hesitated, glancing down at her plate, moving food around with her fork as if rearranging her thoughts. Then, quietly, she began to recount it. The stares. The muttered insults on the bus. The offhanded jokes at work about her accent, her “funny” name. The not-so-subtle way people assumed she didn’t belong. Its not so bad today she says, but it is still there.
I nodded, thinking back to my own experience as an immigrant, arriving in Australia with a South African accent that made me a curiosity at best, a target at worst. I copped my fair share—imitations, taunts, slurs. But let’s be honest: I had an advantage. I was white. Anglo-Saxon. A colonialist, not from Asia.
That night, I went home feeling unsettled. How is it that in 2025, “Stop Asian Hate” still needs to be said out loud?
I acknowledge that Australia has come a long way. It’s more diverse, more outward-looking, more accepting than it used to be. And yet, racism against Asian Australians isn’t just a relic of the past—it lingers, shaping everyday experiences in ways that don’t always make headlines. It’s the hiring manager who assumes an Asian-sounding name belongs to someone “less qualified.” The stranger who mutters “go back to where you came from” under their breath. The ingrained belief that made in China is shorthand for inferior. The casual dismissal, the unspoken assumption that no matter how long you’ve lived here, you’re still a visitor.
Now, you might be wondering—why do I care?
Well, because for the past 14 months, I’ve been traveling across Asia. And what struck me most wasn’t just the landscapes or the street food or the frenetic energy of cities like Bangkok, Manila, Mumbai and Jakarta. It was the people. The kindness. The generosity. The humour. The way strangers welcomed me with warmth, curiosity, and a genuine sense of hospitality.
In fact, my experience has completely reshaped who I am and how I see the world.
It was humbling. And it made me realise something uncomfortable: back in Australia, Asian people don’t always get that same warmth in return.
Yes, we’ve made enormous strides toward inclusivity. Many Australians embrace multiculturalism. But let’s be honest—racism hasn’t disappeared. And for Asian Australians, it still manifests in everything from racial slurs on the street to workplace bias, inappropriate social media comments, and even outright violence.
Seriously, what is wrong with people? I just don’t get it.
A History of Exclusion: The White Australia Policy and the Gold Rush
Anti-Asian sentiment in Australia isn’t just a social issue—it was once government policy. The White Australia Policy (1901–1973) was explicitly designed to keep non-Europeans out, particularly Chinese immigrants, who had been arriving in large numbers since the Gold Rush of the 1850s.
Chinese miners were often met with hostility. In 1861, the Lambing Flat riots in New South Wales saw white miners violently attack Chinese workers, burning their camps and driving them out of the area. This wasn’t an isolated event—Chinese migrants were harassed, overtaxed, and blamed for “stealing jobs.” Sound familiar? While not as frequent today, the same rhetoric, just repackaged for a new century still persists in some places.
Even after the White Australia Policy was dismantled, anti-Asian attitudes persisted. In the 1980s, Perth became the battleground for one of the most extreme displays of racism in modern Australian history.
The 1980s: Jack Van Tongeren and the War on Asian Australians
Growing up in Western Australia, I remember hearing about Jack Van Tongeren and his white supremacist group, the Australian Nationalist Movement (ANM). They weren’t just spouting racist slogans—they were firebombing Chinese restaurants, spray-painting hate speech across Perth, and pushing the idea that Australia should remain a “white nation.”
Van Tongeren was eventually jailed, but his ideology never fully disappeared. Even today, far-right groups and political commentators continue to recycle anti-Asian rhetoric, shifting their focus to immigration fears, economic competition, and paranoia about China’s influence.
Anti-Asian Racism in Australia Today: Is It Still Happening?
Australia has changed significantly over the last few decades. The majority of Australians now embrace multiculturalism, and Asian Australians are playing an integral role in shaping the country’s culture, economy, and identity.
But to say that racism has vanished would be naive.
- COVID-19 fueled a spike in anti-Asian hate crimes. A 2021 report by the Australian National University found that 66% of Asian Australians had experienced discrimination that year, with verbal abuse, workplace exclusion, and physical intimidation being the most common.
- A 2022 Lowy Institute survey found that one in five Chinese Australians had been physically threatened or attacked in the past year.
- High-profile racist incidents still occur. In 2023, a Melbourne school was forced to apologize after students of Asian descent were subjected to racial slurs and bullying. In Sydney, Asian businesses reported a rise in vandalism and hate speech.
- Far-right groups continue to push anti-Asian narratives. Certain conservative commentators claim that Asian immigration is “changing Australian culture too quickly.”
While these incidents don’t define Australia, they prove that underlying tensions haven’t disappeared. They still flare up, often driven by fear, economic anxiety, and political scapegoating.
How We Treat Others is How We’ll Be Treated
This isn’t just about political correctness or social justice—it’s about Australia’s future. If we continue to alienate Asian communities, both within Australia and across the region, we shouldn’t be surprised if one day we find ourselves on the receiving end of that same hostility.
Respect is a two-way street. When I travelled through Asia, I was met with kindness, generosity, and an openness that was humbling. People welcomed me into their homes. They shared meals with me, laughed with me, and showed a warmth that made me feel like I belonged.
That’s the kind of Australia I want to see—one where Asian Australians, international students, and visitors from the region feel that same sense of belonging here.
A Vision for Australia’s Future
For most of its history, Australia has seen itself as a European outpost in Asia—first tethered to Britain, then leaning into its alliance with the United States. It has clung to its Western identity, often resisting deeper engagement with the region it’s geographically part of.
But things are changing. The world is changing. The economic and cultural center of gravity is shifting toward Asia. The question now isn’t whether Australia belongs in this region—it’s how we choose to engage with it.
We can embrace this reality, build stronger connections, and thrive. Or we can resist it, clinging to outdated fears, and risk being left behind.
And in the end, the choice is simple:
Do we want to be part of the future, or do we want to fight a battle that was lost before it even began?