What does the research tell us about the impact of dog-whistle politics on extreme-right groups in Australia?

DEBRA SMITH • March 25, 2019

Since the horrific attacks on peaceful Muslim worshippers in Christchurch, we have been subjected to a steady flow of mealy-mouthed condemnations by Australian politicians. Political leaders in Australia engaged in logistical backflips to distance their political rhetoric from any relationship to a growing far-right threat. From their perspective, there is no relationship between constructing certain groups as a  threat to the provision of healthcare, or to the safety of Victorians going out for dinner, or to jobs in Australia, and an environment conducive to nurturing bigotry and hatred. Neither is using Parliament to promulgate the idea of a white genocide seen as relevant, or blaming innocent victims for their own deaths at the hands of a self-proclaimed white supremacist terrorist.

At the same time, the attacks have left Muslim people around the world traumatised, yet not altogether shocked. Muslim leaders have pointed once again, as they have done for some time, to an atmosphere of unleashed racism that has not only impacted on their community, but also on Jews and people of colour around the world.

It is true that a straight line can rarely be drawn between the tone of political debate and specific outcomes like an act of terrorist violence. Yet social movement theory suggests that institutional political contexts set the tone for non-institutional political mobilisation.

The great social movement theorist Doug McAdam used the term ‘cognitive liberation’ to describe how non-institutional political movements take their cues from the opportunities provided by divisive political debate. When our leaders use dog-whistle politics to construct certain sections of Australian society as perennial outsiders, they not only send messages of legitimacy to extreme-right movements, but also of political opportunity. Extreme-right movements recognise a sense of collective strength in these comments, encouraging the idea that they are on the precipice of a political breakthrough where their anti-egalitarian agenda will inevitably be adopted.

 We can see this in the manifesto of the Christchurch terrorist who found hope in the initial electoral success of Marine Le Pen, only to have his hopes dashed when she was ultimately unsuccessful in the 2017 French presidential elections. This supposed failure of democratic politics to realise the hopes he had been encouraged to have was, according to his own words, a major factor in his radicalisation.

 Hope is generally viewed as a positive emotion, yet it often comes into play under circumstances of fear or anxiety. According to the terrorism scholar Bruce Hoffman, ‘terrorists exist and function in hope of reaching [an] inevitable, and triumphant end’.  By continually constructing certain sections of our society as a threat, political leaders are stoking the fear and anxiety that encourage people to search for hope of a way out. By making false promises that appeal to the extreme-right, they are creating the circumstances that can trigger the kind of political rage arising from feelings of impotence and dashed expectations that underpin terrorist attacks such as in Christchurch.

So is there any empirical evidence to show that the tone of the political debate in Australia is resonating with extreme-right groups here?

Research conducted at Victoria University with my colleagues, Dr Mario Peucker and Dr Muhammad Iqbal, on the networks and narratives of 12 far-right groups in the state of Victoria provides some answers to this question.

The research team collected quantitative data gleaned from the Facebook pages of 12 Victorian far-right groups. None of the groups were engaged in institutionalised politics, and all where characterised by nationalist and anti-egalitarian agendas.

Analysis of the posts and comments within the groups over the course of 18 months found that extreme-right groups strategically respond to discursive opportunities provided by our political leaders through divisive political debates. Initially this provided the momentum for taking to the streets in rallies, with claims of being the voice of ‘the silent majority’. The words of politicians echoed in the rally cries: ‘Islam is incompatible with Australian values’, ‘African gang crime is out of control’, ‘same sex marriage will lead to the breakdown of civilised society’, ‘Safe Schools is driven by radical gender ideology’, ‘progressive politics are a form of extreme ideology’.

Yet faced with counter-protests that far outnumbered them, it became increasingly difficult to maintain the hope that they were the vanguard of a new political era.  Marriage equality was unequivocally endorsed by the majority of Australians, Victorians discussed toxic masculinity in the face of the findings of the Royal Commission into Domestic Violence, a Muslim woman was elected to the Senate, and the Victorian Labor government exceeded even their own expectations as they decisively won an election in the face of fearmongering over supposed African gangs. The promise was being dashed; something needed to change.

During the period of our research a change in extreme-right tactics occurred. There was a retreat from the strategy of building a broad social movement in favour of smaller, more exclusive action-orientated activities. A men’s-only clubhouse, complete with fight club, gym, and ideological lectures, was established. Private meetings for the most dedicated were held to discuss setting up vigilante groups to respond to the alleged violent crime spree. Public PR stunts such as disrupting local council meetings and publicly harassing political opponents became regular events, and clashes against political opponents were often violent. Numerous postering campaigns displaying openly neo-Nazi material echoed the tactics of earlier far-right groups in Australia, some of which later turned to violence.

These action-oriented behavioural changes may indicate both a willingness and a desire to cross the criminal threshold. Our systematic monitoring of online search behaviour found a significant increase in search terms that indicate a desire to either use violence or join a potentially violent far-right group over the course of the project.

In light of this evidence, the tactic of wilfully portraying certain sections of Australian society as a danger or threat based on some aspect of their identity, whether that be their religious beliefs, their skin colour, their ethnicity, or their sexuality, must stop. While it may be tempting for some politicians to chase an electoral bounce through divisive politics, they do so at the peril of empowering decidedly undemocratic and dangerous political movements.