When Cyclone Tracy struck Darwin in 1974, it destroyed over 6,000 homes. In response, the Australian Government sent in more than 8,000 Defence Force personnel to rebuild. That was leadership.
Fast forward to 2025: Floods have ravaged the Hunter and Mid North Coast. Over 10,000 properties have been damaged, thousands of homes are uninhabitable, entire roads washed away, bridges have colsaped. Farms destroyed, livestock lost, fencing and infrastructure obliterated. It’s a national crisis.
So what did the Albanese government do?
Nothing—for seven days. It took an entire week of suffering and relying on volunteers, thounsands of people stranded and rural communities crying out for help, before the government finally agreed to send in just 70 ADF soldiers.
Seventy soldiers. After a week. In a region the size of a small European country.
That’s not leadership—it’s an absurd joke. And the punchline is being delivered by a Prime Minister who increasingly looks completely out of his depth.
And it gets worse.
Farms across the region have been decimated. Thousands of kilometres of fencing destroyed. Livestock drowned or stranded. Families who feed the nation now face financial ruin. These are not just homes lost—they’re businesses, food production, and generations of investment wiped out in a matter of days.
Meanwhile, the government’s response? Some emergency grants, a disaster recovery allowance, and a press release. The heavy lifting—literally—is being done by locals, volunteer firies, and SES workers working around the clock with little backup and no rest and no resources to rebuild
Now contrast that with how we respond overseas:
- Cyclone Winston in Fiji (2016): Over 600 ADF troops, $14 million in aid, schools and infrastructure rebuilt.
- Cyclone Yasa (2020): 400+ Navy personnel, HMAS Adelaide, $4.5 million in direct aid.
- Boxing Day Tsunami (2004): $1 billion in total Australian aid to foreign nations.
We are generous to our neighbours—as we should be. But when disaster hits our own, why are we suddenly broke and short-staffed?
The answer is chilling: regional Australians are not this government’s priority. If you’re not in an inner-city swing seat or a foreign disaster zone looking to impress the UN, you’re on your own.
It’s insulting. And it’s dangerous.
This isn’t a question of logistics. It’s not a matter of capability. We’ve seen what our country can do—when it wants to. This is a question of political will and moral responsibility.
Anthony Albanese had a chance to rise to the occasion. Instead, he disappeared. Then, after seven days, he sent a symbolic handful of troops and hoped no one would notice.
We noticed, the locals noticed and locals are angry.
