“Have you seen this? This looks really scary.” —Australian faith leaders reacting to the Victoria inquiry on minority religions
On the one hand, after years of mounting antisemitic incidents—culminating in a deadly shooting at a Hanukkah celebration at Bondi Beach—the nation’s prime minister finally acknowledged the problem. But the acknowledgment came only after the government had failed to act as anti-Jewish hate crimes nearly quintupled, and despite warnings from his own Jewish envoy that antisemitism had become “ingrained and normalized.”
“If you say that there are eight elements that a cult possesses, I will bet that around six of them could easily be ticked off by a mainstream religion, too.”
He has subsequently convened a royal commission to investigate antisemitism—the nature, prevalence, drivers and the circumstances of the Bondi mass shooting—and to make recommendations on strengthening social cohesion and countering extremism.
In stark contrast, just 300 miles from the Australian capital, in Victoria another investigation is underway—one that threatens to incite more bigotry and give anti-religious agitators a national megaphone. The so-called “inquiry” has morphed into a hate campaign, spreading through mainstream media and social networks and giving an outsized platform to bigots who are making the most of their opportunity.
Their campaign has turned language into a weapon. In Victoria, the four-letter word “cult” is being bandied about with abandon in an attempt to stigmatize minority faiths.
“I think it is absolutely impossible to define a cult. I actually don’t even like the word,” said Mike Southon, the executive director of Freedom for Faith, a Christian legal think tank that recently provided testimony to the Victoria inquiry. “If you say that there are eight elements that a cult possesses, I will bet that around six of them could easily be ticked off by a mainstream religion, too. I did notice in the inquiry’s terms of reference they said a cult has an excessive commitment to the leader or founder. Well, if Jesus is the founder of Christianity, then if so, I have excessive commitment—millions of people do.”
He’s right. And Muslim devotion to the Prophet Muhammad is equally profound and widespread.
The math is simple: Muslims comprise 2 billion people, or 26 percent of the world’s population. Christians make up 2.3 billion. If you consider just those two religions, using the Victoria Parliament’s guidelines, over half of the human race belongs to a “cult.”
It’s no wonder multiple faith leaders approached Mr. Southon, all saying of the inquiry, “Have you seen this? This looks really scary.”
“My biggest concern with this inquiry would be if they come away with legislation that specifically targets religious communities and faith‑based communities,” Southon said.
“If you’re going to ban any organization [because its] people are really passionate about what they believe ... then we might as well also ban unions, environmental groups, every political party.”
Two inquiries. Two approaches. The prime minister’s protects faith communities; Victoria’s endangers them.
The royal commission should include, as one of its first orders of business, investigating the Victoria inquiry—and asking the question that matters most: Should anti-religious agitators be considered a cult?
