Scapegoating is an ugly tactic in politics — but it works

Fear of the Other is a winning formula: it gets column inches, inflames grievance, unites a group in a sense of indignant rancour. It’s ugly psychology, and it’s un-Australian.

US President Donald Trump is a strategic scapegoater. Picture: AFP

Do you recognise the scapegoating playbook? It’s a simple strategy, a highly effective one, if you know the template. It’s applied in so many arenas: work environments, friendship groups, family dynamics, politics. The American Psychological Association defines scapegoating as “the process of directing one’s anger, frustration and aggression onto others, and targeting them as the source of one’s problems”. It’s a form of bullying that demonises and ostracises The Othered, in an attempt to stoke hatred towards them for the sake of a wider group’s cohesion. And the careless cruelty of it feels easy, too easy.

French sociologist Emile Durkheim named the concept in 1897. He believed it was a way for groups or communities to cope with difficult or stressful situations, by providing an outlet for tension. It meant that when people felt overwhelmed, broken or helpless, they’d blame someone on the outside to relieve their injured feelings. The group’s self-esteem had been threatened by the consequences of the target’s behaviour; and as a result, the bullies would lash out against that target, to bring the attacking group closer together. The target may well be blameless.

Trump is a strategic scapegoater. Straight after the tragic air disaster in Washington he was blaming DEI hires. He’s also been busy scapegoating public servants, Haitians in Ohio (“they’re eating the dogs!”) and immigrants in general (they’re “destroying the blood” of America!). In Australia, too, we have form with political scapegoating. You can see it in play with Opposition leader Peter Dutton. He’s called for an end to the Welcome to Country ceremonies that begin so many of our sporting and cultural events. To me they’re an act of generosity, of respect and open-heartedness, the mark of a mature nation embracing its complex past. I especially love the Welcome to Countries that have been personalised, giving the listener a little of the indigenous history of the lands they stand on. What joy they are, representing a new Australia; a modern, forward-looking, generous-minded nation.

Mr Dutton wants to remove the Aboriginal flag from his press conferences and major public events. His party also wants to reverse the dual naming of military bases, which honour First Nations place names.

Opposition Leader Peter Dutton. Picture: Richard Dobson.

“It’s like every other day we get a sugar hit of racism. ‘Look at us. We’re going to cause this much harm to Aborigines. Oh, we’re going to take away their self-esteem by removing flags,’” Indigenous academic Marcia Langton said recently. “These are not actual nation-building policies. They’re sugar-hit propaganda announcements.”

A more recent scapegoating target: women. Mr Dutton told Mark Bouris’s podcast that men are “fed up” with being overlooked at work; that the pendulum has swung too far on gender hires. Yet he leads a Coalition where women comprise just 30 per cent of the MPs and senators in federal parliament. Also in the sights of the Coalition’s scapegoating playbook, public servants – thanks Donald – which he wants to cull.

What group can he target next to galvanise the community he panders to? Scapegoating gets column inches, inflames grievance, unites a group in a sense of indignant rancour. It’s ugly psychology, and it works. Fear of the Other is a winning formula, an easy tool for those sitting in judgment.

Who can we find next to focus our hatred upon? To bring together our fractious group? Yet does Australia actually want to buy into the politics of scapegoating? It’s not generous, or big-hearted, or positive, or visionary. To me it’s heart-breaking for our nation, after coming so far. It’s not us.