In a reflective article in the Fairfax Press, Shaun Carney argued that it is not helpful to expect that politicians will treat the arrival of asylum seekers as a moral issue. Their decisions almost always involve compromise and conflict between professed values and actions.
I would like to argue that, whatever of political practice, we should ask politicians to consider the morality of their policies, and that to divorce politics from morality damages Australia.
Carney argues that although the refugee issue has moral aspects, governments can never fully embody moral positions. Politics is about compromise, so that moral rhetoric betrays government action and only alienates its support base. Nor does moral reflection resolve the questions which the government must grapple: the conflict between the needs of Australians and those of refugees, the decision about how many refugees we can take, the encouragement that generous policies may give to people smugglers who will then put more people's lives at risk, and our relative responsibilities to asylum seekers from different nations.
Carney canvasses the idea that governments should be expected to treat refugee policy as 'just politics', so removing the moral dimension in the way that business people do when they speak of 'just business'. This would avoid the inevitable disillusion that attends politicians whose actions do not match their words.
In this account moral reflection appears to be identified with simply insisting on universal principles. I would argue that moral reflection extends beyond this to negotiating how moral principles apply to the circumstances of each policy and decision. I have argued elsewhere that the universal moral principle at issue in our response to asylum seekers is that we have a responsibility, as persons and nations, to respect the human dignity of those who make a claim on us, and to help them live with dignity insofar as that is reasonably possible for us. Political decisions then need to consider the moral and other dimensions of 'what is reasonably possible'.
In making these decisions we need to take into account the wealth and resources of Australia relative to other nations, the relative burden borne by Australia imposed by on-shore asylum seekers, the needs of the Australian population, the relative needs of those who make a claim on us, and so on. In this reflection, the human dignity of those affected by our policy and decisions must remain in the foreground. For that reason, Sri Lankan asylum seekers make a claim on us, just as much as Iraqi and Afghan refugees.
The political challenge is to carry through this moral calculus into practicable policy. This is already done in the process of refugee determination, which establishes criteria for judging which asylum seekers are to be accepted as refugees. In the past it was also enshrined in concerted actions by which governments combined to stem refugee flows. They promised resettlement to those found to be refugees, and assisted the nations from which they fled to accept others back safely and without discrimination.
The principal moral demand placed upon refugee policy is that it respect the dignity of asylum seekers at each point of their journey. This forbids abusing their dignity as an instrument of policy. Indefinite and mandatory detention, the regime of Temporary Protection Visas, and the conditions of the Pacific Solution all involved abusing the dignity of asylum seekers in order to deter others. The Indonesian solution appears to involve the same abuse.
I agree with Carney when he insists that there is more to politics than morality. Politics is also about persuasion, about judging what is timely, about priorities in making resources available. In the case of asylum seekers, governments need to communicate and promote a humane policy.
But no government can be expected to act in moral ways against the strong and continuing opposition of its people. To propose and defend a humane perspective is the responsibility of groups and individuals within the community. If we finish with a popular but brutal policy towards asylum seekers, we need to reflect on our own shortcomings as citizens and not simply blame the government.
Finally, I believe it would be disastrous if we became content that governments should practise 'politics as usual'. The trust that citizens have in governments is based on the assumption that they will generally act in humane and principled ways. The government will be a model litigant, will not discriminate against its opponents, and will act in accordance with law. If people abandon these ethical expectations it will diminish the trust citizens have in the government, and ultimately in each other.
In the case of immigration policy, it also corrupts the sensibility, and ultimately the grasp of reality, of those who preside over immoral policies. We have already seen the consequences for the economy of tolerating 'business as usual'. It would be a pity to prostitute government in the same way.
Andrew Hamilton is the consulting editor for Eureka Street. He also teaches at the United Faculty of Theology in Melbourne.