Two plans, one standard: why the islamophobia report must be judged against the antisemitism plan
In the space of just a few months, Australians have been handed two national reports on hate: one on antisemitism by Jillian Segal, and one on Islamophobia by Aftab Malik.

Jillian Segal
Both claim to address serious issues. Both make recommendations. But when you line them up, the differences are glaring—in what they propose, how practical they are, and how the government has chosen to handle them. If social cohesion means anything, then we need one clear rule: equal urgency, equal credibility, equal action. Anything less divides rather than unites.
For readers possibly outside Australia, some background is important. Jillian Segal is a respected lawyer, corporate leader and community figure who was appointed by Prime Minister Anthony Albanese in 2024 as Australia’s first Special Envoy to Combat Antisemitism. Her mandate was to examine the rise of antisemitism, especially after the Hamas attacks of October 7, and to recommend concrete policy responses.
Aftab Malik, by contrast, was appointed in 2024 as the government’s Special Envoy to Combat Islamophobia. An academic and interfaith adviser originally from the UK, Malik was tasked with producing Australia’s first national plan to respond to Islamophobia, particularly amid heightened tensions around the Israel–Hamas war.
The Segal plan, released in July, is practical and enforceable. It puts universities on notice: protect Jewish students or risk funding consequences. It directs resources to security upgrades for at-risk schools and synagogues. It insists on proper training so that police, courts, and agencies actually know how to record and prosecute antisemitic hate crimes. It pushes for online hate to be tackled using definitions Australia has already signed up to internationally. These are not abstract gestures. There are steps the government can take tomorrow. The benefits are obvious: safer campuses, stronger data, and better protection for Jewish Australians.
The Malik report, released in September, takes a different tack. It spends a lot of time on frameworks, messaging, and training sessions, while hanging its biggest outcome on one major reform: fixing the gap in federal law so that religion is clearly protected under anti-discrimination law. That’s an important goal. It would benefit Muslims, but also Christians, Jews, Hindus, Sikhs, and others. The problem is it’s a slow and messy reform that depends on Parliament. The rest of the recommendations—education programs, anti-racism frameworks, public-sector training—sound good, but without teeth or funding, they risk being symbolic.
The bigger issue is credibility. The antisemitism plan is built on recognised international standards and global best practice, so progress can be tracked year on year. The Islamophobia report, on the other hand, leans heavily on Gaza and the war of October 7. “Gaza,” “Israel” and “Palestinian” appear over and over, often in the context of controversial claims drawn from NGOs, UN statements, and opinion pieces—including allegations of genocide. That’s not neutral evidence. It turns what should be a domestic policy document into a platform for foreign policy advocacy, and that undermines its legitimacy. Just as troubling, the report repeatedly names Palestinian Australians as a group requiring special mention, but says nothing about Israeli Australians—even though many have faced hostility and vilification here since October 7. That double standard in naming sends a clear and corrosive signal about whose safety counts.
So the real question is: what delivers for all Australians? If Parliament legislates to protect religion, every faith community benefits from a proper legal shield. If universities are forced to meet their duty of care through funding consequences, all students—not just Jewish ones—are safer on campus. If hate-crime data are standardised and justice officials trained, the government can finally respond with facts rather than guesswork. Both reports overlap on some of these points, but only the antisemitism plan sets out a way to actually make them happen.
The other danger is political. Ministers have been quoted as linking their response to the antisemitism plan to the later delivery of the Islamophobia report, as if one community’s safety depends on the other’s timing. That’s not how rights should work. Jewish Australians and Muslim Australians both face threats. Both deserve urgent action. But safety cannot be traded on a political calendar.
The way forward is simple. The government should respond to both reports publicly, on the merits, with timelines. Fix the law to protect religion. Enforce duty of care on campus with real consequences. Standardise hate-crime data and training across the country. And use consistent language: if Palestinian Australians are named, Israeli Australians should be too. Above all, keep foreign wars out of the rules that protect Australians at home.
Australia is big enough to confront Islamophobia and antisemitism at the same time. The only way to prove it is not through words or sequencing, but through equal, measurable action—and to do it now. The question is: when measured against each other, are these two reports really equal?
By Michael Gencher is the Executive Director, StandWithUs Australia









Why are anti-Semitism and Islamophobia compared? One means ‘hatred of’, the other ‘fear of’.