It is unusual when political enemies unite. We should take note of them. The spectacular deportation of Australian Open tennis champion, Novak Djokovic, is one such unusual moment.

Many of those who are implacably against Prime Minister Scott Morrison and his border control policies remarkably stood with him and the Immigration Minister, Alex Hawke, in the deportation decision. The use of the Immigration Minister’s wide-ranging powers met with wide acclaim. Such acclaim was indicative of the public mood which the Prime Minister had sensed days earlier. Sasa Ozmo observed in the UK’s Daily Mail: ‘Let's not forget, just a day prior to Djokovic's arrival, Prime Minister Scott Morrison shrugged off Djokovic's exemption as an issue for the state of Victoria. After the public backlash, Morrison appeared to realise that there was political currency to be earnt.’
What had changed?
The UK columnist and comedian, Simon Evans, points to an answer: ‘The sheer, undigested joy, the unmistakably bilious, pinched, grim satisfaction taken on social media, relishing Djokovic’s woes, have made it clear that sending him home is the very least a lot of people wanted to see. Strung up by his ankle from a decent-sized boab tree would have been more like it….’
Feeling had risen to a mob-like fervour. One is left wondering why?
Yes, Djokovic was not vaccinated against COVID-19 and has made public statements about wanting to control what goes into his body. He made a mistake on his visa application form. He’d also transgressed isolation requirements after contracting the virus in December and didn’t initially admit to it. For the Immigration Minister Alex Hawke, this all amounted to the potential for fostering of ‘anti-vaccination sentiment’, which was the reason Djokovic was deported.
In the midst of a pandemic, the fostering of this sentiment is clearly a justified concern. Moreover, the sensitivity of the public at a time of increasing COVID infections, hospitalisations and deaths is understandable. Many seem upset at an unvaccinated person being allowed to enter the country.
"For Morrison, whose poll ratings have recently slid with the spread of COVID, deportation seems to have worked in allaying public concern."
Yet, Djokovic provided evidence for the low risk he posed for transmitting the virus as he likely had a good level of immunity to the virus, which the Immigration Minister acknowledged. Moreover, the Immigration Minister ‘assumes’ Djokovic entered Australia consistently with ATAGI documents and that Djokovic believed he had a valid medical exemption. The Federal Court, moreover, initially found in his favour. In the end, the Minister gave a broad reason for deporting Djokovic (fostering ‘anti-vaccination sentiment’), which had little to do with the actual risk he posed.
The heightened public feeling and the Minister’s broad reasons given for deportation suggest dubious dynamics were influencing the outcome. This is not to deny the public health concerns that were and are at issue (and at this point, I’d like to declare that I’m triple vaccinated against COVID!). These concerns, at least in Djokovic’s case, are debatable. But the Minister’s decision cut off such debate by expelling Djokovic from Australia based on exaggerated public feeling.
Why was this public feeling so strong – even disproportionately strong, especially if we look critically at the irrational and slanderous social media and other commentary?
Djokovic’s father has called Djokovic a ‘scapegoat.’ Few others publicly sympathised, with Nick Kyrgios being the only tennis player to voice support. There are likely various reasons for this silence, but it remains indicative of the power of public sentiment. One of the leading theorists of violence, René Girard, has extensively shown that human societies rely on united public sentiment to maintain order and cohesion. This sentiment universally and repeatedly devolves into mob behaviour to resolve tensions and crises. Scapegoating provides a social mechanism to unify human groups with a singular desire motivated by moral outrage.
Girard, who is a former Stanford professor and member of the Académie française, provides four markers or criteria that manifest when a scapegoating occurs:
The first is when a social crisis is evident: in Djokovic’s case, there is a crisis around the effects of the pandemic, particularly with the rise of the Omicron variant, and appropriate measures to control it while respecting individual freedom; in Australia, this crisis has particularly centred on a strong vaccination campaign.
The second, a person is accused of heinous crimes that unifies the group against them: in Djokovic’s case, he is accused of spreading anti-vaccination sentiment by his very presence.
The third, certain traits, such as of vulnerability or notoriety, are associated with the accused and marks them out as different: Djokovic is a well-known public figure who has not been vaccinated against COVID, and is negatively viewed by many for his ‘unsympathetic’ character and tennis playing style.
The fourth, a climax of scapegoating occurs in the form of an exclusion or killing of the accused: Djokovic is expelled from the country.
Like Lindy Chamberlain and Cardinal George Pell, the media and popular judgement of Djokovic’s public statements, actions and demeanour have been mixed together to produce a ‘bad guy’ who has become a ‘fall guy’. This does not mean that the Commonwealth’s vaccination strategy or that its border policies are unjustified, but that they relied on an exaggerated and disproportionate public feeling, which was then politically mobilised.
Djokovic has become a convenient distraction to address and release public concern and fear. This concern is at a particular (and justifiable) height because of the spread of the Omicron variant and the federal cabinet’s decision to allow the variant to spread. For Morrison whose poll ratings have recently slid with the spread of COVID, deportation seems to have worked in allaying public concern. Djokovic’s case came just at the wrong time for him – and perhaps just the right time for those concerned about the spread of the virus and for politicians concerned with the consequent loss of political support. Djokovic provided a convenient scapegoat.
Girard has another insight that explains this shift: Western societies are affected by an awareness of scapegoats and victims, which the bible originally provided. While that insight can be overlooked in the heat of the moment, societies like Australia can’t help being affected by the qualms of conscience: Though he may be in the wrong, did we really treat Djokovic fairly? Did we let our mob-like fervour get the better of us?
Joel Hodge is a lecturer in theology at the Australian Catholic University and a Jesuit novice.
Main image: Novak Djokovic detained In Melbourne. (Diego Fedele / Stringer)