There is a quiet fear that keeps immigrants silent — even at the expense of truth and justice - ABC Religion & Ethics

Australia Broadcast Center

2 days ago

In one of the sessions about racism that I attended, the group facilitator asked me, 'Have you experienced a racist situation before?'
I answered, 'Yes, a couple of times.'
She continued, 'Have you complained?'
I replied, 'No, I have not.'
When she asked 'Why not?', my answer was simple: 'Because I do not trust the system.'
This hesitation is not mine alone. Many immigrants in Australia live with a quiet fear that speaking up or filing a complaint about racism could bring serious consequences. Some of this fear comes with us from our home countries, where speaking out often meant punishment. But some of it grows here, shaped by the stories we see in the news and the experiences we hear from friends and communities.
To understand this fear, it helps to look at two factors that shape it: the experiences we bring with us from our countries of origin, and the realities we encounter once we arrive in Australia.
Carrying fear across borders
Immigrants are central to Australia's story and its future. The country attracts people who bring scientific expertise, financial investment and cultural diversity. Many immigrants made a conscious decision to apply to come to Australia, seeking a place where they could build stable lives.
For some, that choice was shaped by the realities of their home countries: restrictions on political freedom, human rights violations, gender-based discrimination or conflict. Some had already lost land and livelihoods before making the decision to move.
What unites many immigrants is a determination to rebuild and to contribute — far from being a burden, we are a source of growth and renewal. Yet alongside this commitment lies a learned caution. Many of us come from societies where speaking out carries real danger, where dissent can cost you your job, your safety, your freedom, even your life.
That fear does not vanish at the border. It follows us here, shaping how we navigate life in Australia.
The experience of racism in Australia
The second factor that feeds our fear is racism in the society we have joined. It comes in two forms:
individual racism — the everyday prejudice or exclusion we encounter;
individual racism — the everyday prejudice or exclusion we encounter; institutional racism — when government policies or decisions produce unequal outcomes.
Both forms are damaging, but institutional racism cuts deeper. If individuals can be unfair, institutions are meant to provide fairness. When they do not, it undermines confidence in the system as a whole and helps explain why so few incidents of racism are formally reported.
Research in Victoria shows that although more than three-quarters of respondents had experienced racism, only around 16 per cent lodged a complaint. For immigrants in particular, the hesitation is often shaped by three concerns:
lack of trust that institutions will act fairly or transparently;
lack of trust that institutions will act fairly or transparently; fear of repercussions, particularly around visas or citizenship;
fear of repercussions, particularly around visas or citizenship; uncertainty about what filing a complaint might trigger.
Without confidence that the process is safe and effective, silence feels like the safer option.
This silence sits uneasily alongside the government's own commitments. Successive politicians and community leaders have said that racism has no place in Australia. The Racial Discrimination Act 1975, moreover, makes racial discrimination unlawful, and the Australian Human Rights Commission is developing a National Anti-Racism Framework to help guide future policy. Yet despite these commitments, racism persists across institutions. For many immigrants, this gap between promise and practice only deepens mistrust.
But this raises a deeper question: why don't we trust the system in the first place?
When the system feels unfair
This fear is not abstract — it is reinforced by the way systems and institutions operate in practice. Even for those who may not have personally faced racism, trust is shaken by the way systems treat people differently. Several recent incidents show how institutional practices can deepen fear and mistrust.
Disparities in humanitarian visas
Since 24 February 2022, the Australian Department of Home Affairs has granted nearly 15,000 visas to Ukrainian nationals, with over 34,600 Ukrainian nationals arriving in Australia. By contrast, Palestinians fleeing Gaza faced a far tougher process. Between 7 October 2023 and 12 August 2024, less than 3,000 visa applications were approved while over 7,000 were rejected. And of those granted visas, only an estimated 1,300 Palestinians have so far been able to reach Australia. These figures do not yet include 2025 data, but even taken alone, they expose a pattern that Amnesty International has condemned as discriminatory.
Racism in universities
A 2024 interim report from the Australian Human Rights Commission highlighted pervasive racism at tertiary institutions. International students reported stereotyping, exclusion, and social isolation and many refrained from raising complaints out of fear it could affect their visa status. Students were often dismissed as 'cash cows' rather than recognised for their academic contributions.
Cultural censorship and the Bendigo Writers Festival
Just last week, more than fifty authors and moderators withdrew from the Bendigo Writers Festival after being asked to comply with a new code of conduct. The code required avoidance of 'inflammatory, divisive, or disrespectful' commentary, which many felt effectively meant complete self-censorship — especially involving issues surrounding the conflict in Gaza. Critics of this code of conduct warned it conflated criticism of Israel with antisemitism and had the effect of silencing dissenting voices.
The fear that leads to silence
As immigrants, such incidents shape the way we see Australia. Each story of unequal treatment, each example of silenced voices, deepens the fear that speaking up will bring consequences rather than protection. These fears do not exist in isolation: we carry some with us from our home countries, but many are reinforced here, in the very institutions and systems that are meant to be fair.
I know many friends and colleagues who are afraid to attend protests or even share their opinions on social media. They worry it could put their permanent residency at risk, delay their path to citizenship, or even threaten the status they have already secured. This quiet fear keeps people silent, even when they want to speak, and it undermines the promise that immigrants can belong and participate fully in Australian society.
If Australia truly values the contributions of its immigrants, it must also confront the barriers that keep us silent. Building trust means showing that institutions act fairly, that rights are protected in practice and that immigrants can express themselves without fear. Until then, many will continue to believe that silence is the safer choice, even when silence comes at the cost of truth and justice.
Sara Abdelmawgoud is an education designer, advisor and researcher. An immigrant and member of Amnesty International Australia's Activist Leadership Committee, she writes on education, equity and human rights.