The March that made them Panic

The March That Made Them Panic

— Perth Proclaimer Editorial Retort Special —

I. The Panic Begins

Over the past months we have made it abundantly clear that the Perth Proclaimer unconditionally supports, promotes, and co-organises the March for Australia (MFA) events in Western Australia.
We have said it on air, on print, in person, and occasionally over a badly poured pint.
We mean it. And apparently, that’s enough to terrify half the ideological commentariat into hysterics.

Since the announcement, a parade of hand-wringing “analysts,” anonymous tweeters, and professional outrage merchants have appeared, each clutching a thesaurus open at the word extremist.
We have been labelled every adjective short of galactic villains.
All because ordinary Australians gathered in a park, waved flags, and dared to call for unity.

It’s astonishing.
We used to live in a country where standing for your flag was a photograph, not a police sketch.

II. The Outrage Industry

The first volley came from local media.
You could almost hear the newsroom glee when the headline template loaded:
“Right-wing march attracts controversy.”
They only had to fill in the date and wait for social media to provide the moral panic.

Then came the self-anointed “social commentators” - the ones who treat Twitter like an Olympic sport.
They issued statements of “concern,” the kind written in the tone of someone discovering gluten in their salad.
Apparently, the real threat to democracy wasn’t government overreach, inflation, or energy poverty - it was a few thousand Australians daring to walk together without permission from a UN subcommittee.

To these people, patriotism is a virus, and the cure is hashtags.

III. What the Proclaimer Actually Wants

Let’s make something uncomfortably clear for the ideologically fragile:
We are not seeking notoriety, wealth, or the empty buzz of popularity.
We don’t exist to trend, we exist to tell the truth.

The Perth Proclaimer could fill its page daily with clickbait if it wanted to.
Instead, we use it sparingly - because the point isn’t us.
It’s Australia.
It’s about breaking down ideological barriers that keep neighbours suspicious of each other.
It’s about seeing people as fellow citizens, not political demographics.

The March for Australia is not a brand; it’s a mirror.
And what some people see in that mirror frightens them, because it shows how divided they’ve become.

IV. The Ants’ Nest

COVID was the government’s big experiment in social entomology.
They kicked the ants’ nest and then stood back to watch the swarm.
Now they’re busy rearranging the colony - redefining who belongs, who doesn’t, and which ant gets to hold the flag.

During those years, Australians learned the hard way who their neighbours really were.
We saw who would offer a helping hand, and who would dob you in for walking the dog too enthusiastically.
We learned that “we’re all in this together” translated roughly to “you’re all in this together - we’re on paid leave.”

And when it was over, when people wanted to heal, the government couldn’t let that happen.
They needed a new line of division.
Suddenly the national flag - that blue patch of cloth uniting every creed, colour, and ancestry under one sky - became a suspect symbol.
To fly it was to risk being branded “far-right.”
To wave it proudly was to be accused of nostalgia for oppression.

The accusation is absurd.
The flag is the only banner under which every one of us already stands, voluntarily and without paperwork.

V. The Narrative Machine

Media bias in Australia isn’t a conspiracy; it’s an ecosystem.
From COVID to Net Zero, the symbiosis between politicians and broadcasters is as obvious as the cables connecting their microphones.
They repeat each other’s lines so often you could swap their scripts mid-show and no one would notice.
They call it “alignment of messaging.”
We call it ventriloquism.

The question isn’t whether the government and media share a bed - it’s who’s holding the camera.

VI. Enter the 17 SDGs

And there, lurking in the corner, are those 17 Sustainable Development Goals - the alphabet soup of global benevolence. They sound harmless, like motivational posters in a school library:
“Goal 1: End Poverty.”
Lovely. Who wouldn’t sign up?
By Goal 13, however, you realise it’s less a wish list and more an operating system.

It seeps into local councils, into planning laws, into your children’s school projects.
Suddenly you’re not a citizen with rights - you’re a “stakeholder” in a “sustainability outcome.”
That’s bureaucrat for “lab rat.”

It’s mesmerising, really, how a handful of unelected think-tankers managed to turn an entire democracy into a compliance seminar. Divide people, feed them slogans, and they’ll never notice who’s writing the script.

VII. What MFA Actually Is

The March for Australia exists to cut through that fog.
It’s not a protest; it’s a reminder.
Young men and women - not crusty retirees, not conspiracy addicts - have had enough of being spoken to like naughty schoolchildren. They want the same deal their parents had: work hard, buy a home, raise a family, and not have to apologise for being Australian.

The march is about reclaiming sanity.
It’s a living declaration that national pride is not a hate crime, and unity is not extremism.

VIII. The Third-Tier Circus

Meanwhile, our government - both state and federal - stands around like a committee of scared meerkats while local councils rewrite the rules of civilisation.
Australia was never meant to have a third tier of government.
Yet here we are, with unelected CEOs issuing edicts that shape your daily life.

A local bureaucrat can now decide whether your backyard, business, or belief system complies with “Sustainability Goals.”
That’s not administration; that’s soft tyranny in hi-vis.
The Constitution never signed up for this - but the councils never asked.

IX. The Real Extremists

And yet, when ordinary citizens point this out, the response from the ideological class is a screech of “Neo-Nazis!”... It’s the laziest slur in the modern playbook.
They use it the way toddlers use the word “poo” - indiscriminately and for attention.

Let’s state for the record:
The March for Australia has no affiliation, sympathy, or coordination with any extremist group, organisation, or dress-up club.
If a few random individuals decide to appear at a public march and wave their own banner, that’s called public space, not partnership.

On August 31, while MFA organisers were still setting up speakers at Parliament House, another group - uninvited, unendorsed, and frankly unwelcome - raised a flag at the other end of the grounds.
The media filmed that corner, cropped out the stage, and wrote an entire morality play about “the rise of fascism in WA.”. It was theatre, and not even good theatre.

They didn’t interview the organisers, the crowd, or the police, who by the way were exemplary.
They just pointed their cameras at the one image that matched their pre-written outrage and called it journalism.

If that’s the standard, the next Christmas Pageant could be reported as

“mass child exploitation ring, led by elderly bearded male.”

X. A Note to the Accusers

To the activists, journalists, and self-appointed moral auditors currently clutching their pearls:
Consider this your proclamation.

We see you.
We see your selective outrage, your performative gasps, your sudden interest in unity only when it involves kneeling.
We see the way you use words like far-right as insecticide for inconvenient opinions.
And we see the fear behind it - fear that Australians might start thinking for themselves again.

Because if ordinary people stop apologising for their flag, your career in moral panic loses its funding.

XI. A Country of Bullies and Bystanders

It’s fashionable now to preach “kindness” while practicing intimidation.
To talk about tolerance while cancelling anything that breathes differently.
When governments and media bully citizens into compliance, change isn’t a desire - it’s an emergency.

Australians have a built-in radar for bullies.
We used to deal with them in the schoolyard.
Now they hide behind blue ticks and parliamentary privilege.
The technique hasn’t changed: shout louder, label faster, retreat to safety when challenged.

But history is unkind to mobs.
Eventually, the mob realises it’s being used - and turns around.

XII. The Philosophy of the Pub

If you really want to understand MFA, go to any Australian pub at 6 p.m. on a Friday.
You’ll find the nation in microcosm - tradies, teachers, immigrants, veterans, farmers - all arguing, laughing, swearing, and shouting each other drinks.
That’s what unity looks like.
No hashtags, no moderators, no censorship - just people being gloriously, imperfectly Australian.

The ideological mob can’t stand that image.
They prefer citizens in categories, not conversations.
You can’t divide a pub table; you can only join it.
That’s why MFA scares them - because it’s the physical embodiment of the Australian pub ethos: come one, come all, leave your politics at the door, and don’t nick my chips.

XIII. The Reality of Fear

Let’s be honest.
There is intimidation in this country, but it doesn’t come from patriots with flags.
It comes from bureaucrats with clipboards and journalists with agendas.
It’s the fear that saying the wrong word might cost your job, your friends, your social media access.
That’s not freedom; that’s managed democracy.

MFA is the antidote.
It’s the refusal to whisper in a country built on shouting.

XIV. The Mathematics of Control

Governments understand one formula perfectly:
Control = Compliance × Division.
Keep people divided, and they’ll police each other.
Make them compliant, and they’ll thank you for the handcuffs.

The Perth Proclaimer stands against that equation.
We believe in another one:
Freedom = Courage × Unity.

Unity terrifies the ideological class because it cancels their business model.
They survive on outrage margins.
If Australians stop hating each other, they’re out of work.

XV. The Coming March

So we look forward to the next March for Australia - October 19, Langley Park.
We’ll be there, flags raised, voices steady, and humour intact.
And to the professional doomsayers already drafting their op-eds: save your ink.
We’ve read your work before.
It’s all the same story with different punctuation.

The day will come, the people will march, and nothing catastrophic will happen - except perhaps the realisation that ordinary Australians are done being caricatures in someone else’s narrative.

XVI. The Ironic Footnote

There’s a particular kind of irony when those screaming “diversity” cannot tolerate diversity of thought.
When those waving “equality” banners demand speech permits.
When those preaching “love” issue death threats online.
The modern moral crusader is a strange creature: half humanitarian, half hall monitor.

We don’t hate them; we just wish they’d pick a hobby that doesn’t involve surveillance.

XVII. Lessons from the Past

Our ancestors built this country with bare hands and brutal humour.
They disagreed on everything except the belief that Australia was worth the argument.
They’d laugh themselves sick at the idea that unity could be extremist.
They’d also wonder why anyone needs permission to love their own flag.

The generation that fought for freedom never imagined their grandchildren would need to explain it.

XVIII. What We Stand For

So here it is, plain and unembellished:

We stand for the right of Australians to gather peacefully without ideological branding.
We stand for the national flag as a symbol of inclusion, not suspicion.
We stand against unelected local authorities masquerading as governments.
We stand against media manipulation dressed as virtue.
We stand with those who want their country back - not from anyone else, but from apathy.

XIX. A Message to the Young

To the young Australians reading this: the future isn’t owned by the loudest hashtag.
It’s owned by those who build, not those who berate.
You are the generation that can restore humour, reason, and humanity to this sunburnt circus.
Don’t let anyone shame you for loving your country.
It’s yours.
Treat it well.
Defend it when it’s mocked.
And never outsource your conscience to a committee.

XX. Closing Time

So to the mob that tried to brand the March for Australia as extremist: thank you.
You’ve proven our point more elegantly than we ever could.
You’ve shown Australians what ideological hysteria looks like in high definition.
You’ve reminded them why unity matters - because division is exhausting, and nobody likes living in perpetual outrage.

We’ll continue to march, publish, and laugh - because laughter is the most dangerous weapon against propaganda.
You can censor, smear, and spin, but you can’t out-joke the truth.

And when the day comes that Australians can wave their flag without an asterisk, we’ll know we’ve done our job.

Until then, we remain exactly what you fear:
Unapologetically Australian, inconveniently sane, and professionally impossible to cancel.

Alan’s One Liner:
“If loving your country makes you an extremist, then moderation is vastly overrated.”