A few weeks ago I watched as protesters braved the rain to cross the Sydney Harbour Bridge in a March for Humanity, calling for aid to Gaza. Among the Palestinian flags, one image stood out: the Indigenous flag, symbolising a shared history of dispossession.

This week Prime Minister Anthony Albanese announced that Australia will next month recognise a Palestinian state at the UN. These developments remind us that identity cannot be separated from politics. At a time when democracies elsewhere are fracturing under the weight of polarisation, Australia’s institutional resilience should embolden us to embrace our differences more openly in political discourse – not frighten us.

As an Australian studying in the US during both of Trump’s presidential victories I saw first hand how identities can be politicised to fracture a society. After the October 7 Hamas attacks I witnessed, as a graduate student, how Harvard students retreated into ideological silos, avoiding dialogue with those whose identities they perceived to be at odds with their own.

Australia feels different – partly because of how our political system is structured. Identity weighs less heavily on our social conscience, but perhaps that’s why it’s so often ignored.

Identity politics refers to the idea that our race, gender, religion or class shapes our political views. Over time it has often been framed as divisive. Peter Dutton, after the 2023 Voice referendum defeat, said the result was a rejection of “the madness of identity politics”. But his own loss in the 2025 election might suggest otherwise. A wave of post-election commentary emphasised the Liberal Party’s need to better reflect “modern Australia”, with female representation highlighted as one of the most glaring absences in the party room.

Australia’s electoral system structurally limits the worst elements of polarisation caused by identity politics. Unlike the US, where turnout hovers around 60 per cent, Australia’s compulsory voting system ensures broad participation and fosters a more centrist politics. Our Westminster system means Australian voters elect a party to govern, not a singular leader. Our ballots are cast for local MPs, and the party with the majority elects our prime minister. In contrast, the US system centres on the direct election of a president, making national politics more personalised by design.

Preferential voting also encourages engagement with more than one party and rewards coalition-building over extremism. This institutional design helps insulate us from the deep political tribalism seen in the US and gives us the space to explore identity in a less adversarial way.

A few months ago, during the 2025 Australian federal election, the main topics on the campaign trail were the cost of living, Medicare, affordable housing and Australia’s future energy mix – a far cry from the US presidential election, which focused on a “war on woke” and employed rhetoric that divided American voters along lines of race, gender and sexuality. This contrast is driven in part by the need of American candidates to use emotionally charged narratives to boost voter turnout.

With one of the most diverse parliaments ever elected this year, there’s a growing mandate to speak more frankly about what identities shape the Australian experience.

The 2025 federal election marked a milestone in representation: the highest number of women and multicultural MPs ever elected. New Labor MP Ash Ambihaipahar captured the moment well: “None of us chose the colour of our skin, our birthplace or our family … but we can choose to serve.” Across the aisle, the Coalition’s youngest current federal member, Leon Rebello, paid tribute to his “multicultural family that embraced a global perspective”.

Australia’s voting system has prevented us from falling into the pitfalls of politics dominated by identity, but has it also erased our ability to speak frankly about our differences? Australia was one of the last Western democracies in the world to legalise same-sex marriage. A number of our MPs at the time were in or had been in same-sex relationships, but this was not always made publicly relevant.

Reflecting on his electorate of Calwell, Basem Abdo, the first MP of Palestinian descent, remarked, “It’s a place where the world can be found and where people truly understand the world.” In a nation where nearly half the population has at least one parent born overseas, it’s unrealistic to assume the Australian identity will remain identical over time.

Identity politics didn’t break the US, but a refusal to engage with different identities did. Australia has the tools to do better. Rather than fear our differences, we should embrace them. With one of the most diverse parliaments in our history, we’re ready for a more honest conversation about what it means to be Australian.

Liliana Tai is an economist and former political staffer currently working in the US.

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