The Prime Minister's Eid Message

Anthony Albanese’s Eid message speaks of humanity, fellowship and comfort, yet it comes from a Prime Minister who has refused to say genocide, extended diplomatic honour to Isaac Herzog, and now offers Muslims a reminder about values his own office has failed to uphold.

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The Prime Minister's Eid Message

Anthony Albanese offered the Australian Muslim community an Eid message, and it deserves a careful response because public language about humanity carries weight when spoken in a time of mass killing. What he issued, however, was not a message grounded in moral seriousness. It was a carefully worded note from a Prime Minister who has refused to say genocide, honoured Isaac Herzog with diplomatic respectability, and now offers Muslims a reminder about humanity that his own office has failed to uphold.

Below is a sentence-by-sentence response to the Prime Minister’s Eid message, measured against the reality of his own record.

“For Muslims, Eid al Adha is a moment to reflect upon the spirit of sacrifice in the name of faith.”

Muslims do not need a lesson on sacrifice from a leader who has watched Palestinian families lose everything, their homes, their children, their futures, while his government perfected the art of "dignified" silence.

That dignified silence is real. In the San Diego mosque shooting by attackers inspired by Brenton Tarrant, we could not locate an official statement from the Prime Minister or Tony Burke. Muslim killings rarely seem to summon the same urgency, symbolism or public mourning from power.

“It is a time of renewal through acts of goodness and love, and embracing Eid al Adha’s message of fellowship and humanity and its abiding emphasis on making connections, building communities and enriching lives.”

There is something deeply jarring about hearing the language of fellowship and humanity while you help provide and enable the political cover under which an apartheid state continues to mass kill civilians. What makes the sentence cut even deeper is that this message sounds like an instruction on "fellowship and humanity", and it is a reminder that the Prime Minister should first direct it at himself before presenting it to Muslims as though they are the ones in need of moral orientation.

One does not get to wrap oneself in the language of humanity while refusing to call genocide by its name, despite Australia being a party to the Genocide Convention, while maintaining relations with an apartheid state, and while inviting Isaac Herzog to Australia and literally rolling out the red carpet for him in Canberra.

“As people gather to honour the great traditions of Eid al Adha, I say thank you to Australia’s Muslim community for the boundless generosity, deep faith and powerful community spirit with which you lift our nation.”

Praise without principle eventually becomes insult, especially when it comes from a government that has demanded emotional composure from Muslims while offering no comparable moral seriousness toward Gaza.

The Muslim community is repeatedly praised in language and dismissed in practice. It is thanked for its generosity, while its grief is afforded no political weight. It is admired for its faith, while its outrage is treated as an inconvenience. It is celebrated for lifting the nation, while the nation’s leadership refuses to lift even the smallest burden from a people being crushed in full public view.

“I also acknowledge the burden that so many of you carry in your hearts as conflict continues to cast its shadow across Gaza and the broader Middle East.”

A shadow. That is the chosen word. Not missiles, not mass killing, not starvation, not siege, and not annihilation.

Gaza is not living beneath a shadow. Gaza is being torn apart by Israeli missiles, pulverised by military assault, and buried beneath the rubble of language designed to keep powerful men comfortable while children are pulled from the ruins.
And as for the broader Middle East, Prime Minister, you were among the first Western leaders to give open political backing to Israeli and American military expansion across the region, so this sudden sorrow arrives after you helped normalise the very violence now being mourned in softened prose.

“At Eid al Adha, all Australians join you in hoping for a lasting peace.”

Peace is the language politicians reach for once they have decided that justice is too costly. Lasting peace requires moral clarity, political consequence and a willingness to name the aggressor without hiding behind the fog of generic statesmanship. Lasting peace is built by confronting the aggressor, not by offering the public the diplomatic equivalent of a scented candle while Gaza burns. A lasting peace requires more than hope, and cannot be spoken into existence by leaders who refuse to use the word genocide.

“And may the season of Eid al Adha wrap you in the warmth and comfort of your faith and community.”

This is the line that lands with the greatest hollowness of all. Warmth and comfort are invoked while generations of families have been shattered, while millions have been dispossessed, while Muslim families in Australia are carrying the daily torment of watching mass killing unfold in real time, and while institutions and media continue to deepen hostility, suspicion and damage across communities without encountering anything like the seriousness this catastrophe demands from government.

To offer warmth and comfort in this setting, without any reckoning with the scale of destruction and with Australia’s own political posture toward it, is the language of a Prime Minister who wants the emotional register of humanity without the political burden that humanity imposes.


Prime Minister, your Eid message reaches for humanity, fellowship and comfort, but it does so from an office that has consistently refused to use its power in the protection of humanity when it mattered most. Muslims are being asked to receive a message about goodness, love and enriched lives from a government that has helped sustain and enable political cover for an apartheid state. The message lands as hollow; its words are carefully chosen to avoid the truth.

When you remind Muslims of the meaning of fellowship and humanity, Prime Minister, the reminder is misdirected. It is a reminder you should first apply to yourself. Gaza is not under a shadow; Gaza is under bombardment. The broader Middle East is not drifting into instability on its own. It is being driven there by aggression that your government was among the first to politically endorse. And when you speak of peace, comfort and community while refusing moral precision and extending legitimacy to figures like Isaac Herzog, you expose the real problem with this message: it offers sentiment where justice is required, atmosphere where truth is required, and ceremony where courage is required.