By Asha Lang

Ladies and gentlemen, take your seats and consider the latest spectacle from the Albanese Government—a performance so outrageous it would make even the most seasoned of jesters blush. Forget the circus tent; this debacle unfolded in the hallowed halls of Parliament, where three brutal bills were been rolled out with all the finesse of a bull in a china shop. Yes, my dear readers, it seems our esteemed leaders decided to transform the plight of refugees and asylum seekers into a grotesque political theater, complete with all the melodrama and none of the compassion.

Picture this: a press conference staged in Mural Hall, with an ensemble cast of independent MPs and human rights advocates, all gathered to denounce the government’s latest legislative folly. The crowd, a veritable who's who of righteous indignation, clamors for attention as they brandish their placards, shouting about the “Brutal Bills” threatening the lives of over 80,000 vulnerable souls. It’s a heart-wrenching tableau, and yet, one can’t help but wonder if the real tragedy lies not in the bills themselves, but in the farcical manner in which they are being pushed through Parliament. (For clarity, it's the former. Defintiely the former)

The three acts in this unholy drama are the Migration Amendment Bill 2024, the Migration Amendment (Prohibiting Items in Immigration Detention Facilities) Bill 2024, and the Migration Amendment (Removal and Other Measures) Bill 2024. A veritable trifecta of terror, these bills promise to expand offshore detention regimes and, in a particularly chilling twist, deport individuals back to countries where they face persecution, violence, or worse—death. Bravo, Albanese! Who knew that the Australian government had morphed into an audition for "Survivor: Human Rights Edition"?

Let’s not gloss over the sheer absurdity of the situation. The same government that decries the dangers of travel to countries like Iran and Afghanistan is now waving a magic wand, eager to send refugees scampering back to the very horrors they fled. It’s as if our leaders have collectively decided that empathy is a quaint relic of the past, better suited for the pages of a Victorian novel than modern governance. “Compassion? What’s that?” they seem to ask, donning their best poker faces while they shuffle the deck of human lives.

Ready, fire, aim

And if you thought their approach couldn't get more ludicrous, hold onto your hats—these bills are being rushed through Parliament in a single day. One can almost hear the frantic whispers of “quick, quick, we must act before anyone notices!” echoing through the marble corridors. It’s a classic case of legislative sleight of hand, where the audience is distracted by the shiny objects of haste while the real action—namely, the erosion of human rights—takes place right under our noses.

Ah, but let us not forget the reaction of those brave enough to stand up against this farce. Advocates and legal experts have described these proposals as “draconian,” “punitive,” and “anti-migrant.” One can only imagine the tea being spilled in the back rooms of power, where whispers of “what on earth are they thinking?” mingle with the bitter taste of betrayal. As Paul Power, CEO of the Refugee Council of Australia, so aptly put it, these bills are among the most “harmful and extreme” seen in over a decade. And yet, here we are, watching as our leaders throw compassion out the window, eager to embrace an agenda that appears more like a deranged publicity stunt than any semblance of thoughtful policymaking.

Let’s add some facts to this tragicomedy, shall we? Reports indicate that should these bills pass (spoiler alert- they did), the consequences will be dire for thousands of lives. Families will be torn apart, entire communities barred from entry, and individuals imprisoned for the crime of not wishing to be sent back to danger. The government claims to act in the name of “security,” yet one can’t help but feel that the only thing they are truly securing is their own political capital.

In this circus of cruelty, we must ask ourselves: is this what we, as a nation, stand for? Or have we allowed the political class to turn our values into mere puppetry, where the strings are pulled by the whims of those in power? So, dear readers, as the curtains draw on this act of political theater, let us not be mere spectators. Let us demand better. For in the end, it’s not just the refugees who are at stake; it’s our very humanity that hangs in the balance.

And as the lights dim on this dreadful comedy of errors, remember: we deserve leaders who don’t just play political games, but who genuinely care about the lives of those they govern. Until then, I suggest we keep our popcorn handy—this show is far from over.

Bipartisan bastardry

In a dazzling display of bipartisan unity, the Coalition has pledged to outdo Labor's tough stance by proposing even deeper cuts to international student numbers, aiming to reduce net migration intake based on economic conditions.

Opposition Leader Peter Dutton criticised Labor's cap on international students for favoring elite universities and not addressing housing shortages for Australians. It's heartwarming to see our leaders competing over who can be more unwelcoming to those seeking education and opportunity on our shores

Meanwhile, the Australian Border Force has been busy trialing contactless border clearance using facial recognition technology, with ambitions to phase out passports by 2030.

Because nothing says "secure borders" like entrusting our personal data to a system that has yet to prove its infallibility. But fear not, dear citizens, for the government assures us that privacy concerns will be carefully considered—presumably after the technology is fully implemented.

And let's not forget the recent High Court ruling that deemed the use of electronic tracking bracelets and curfews for migrants unconstitutional.

In response, the government is scrambling to introduce new legislation to address the ruling, ensuring that those released from detention remain under strict surveillance. After all, nothing says "justice" like finding creative ways to circumvent the highest court's decisions.

In this grand production, the Albanese government plays the lead role, delivering lines about "protecting our borders" and "ensuring national security" with all the conviction of a seasoned actor. But behind the curtain, one can't help but wonder if this is less about safeguarding Australia and more about scoring political points at the expense of the vulnerable.

So, as the final act unfolds, we, the audience, are left to ponder: Is this truly the best script our leaders can produce? Or is it time for a rewrite that prioritizes humanity over hubris?