What is dehumanisation? Some want it to replace definitions of antisemitism and Islamophobia

Muslim and Palestinian advocacy groups have called for the term dehumanisation to be used by Australian universities, instead of two distinct terms: antisemitism and Islamophobia.

In February, Australian universities agreed to adopt the International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance (IHRA) definition of antisemitism. Now, they are developing a corresponding definition of Islamophobia.

Eight Muslim and Palestinian organisations argue separate definitions would pit groups against each other and risk “suppressing legitimate criticism”.

But what is dehumanisation?

What is dehumanisation?

Dehumanisation involves seeing certain groups as inhuman or subhuman, so undeserving of equal treatment. It can attribute evil, machine-like or animal features to them.

There are two broad forms of dehumanisation. In the first, groups are denied uniquely human traits, such as cognitive aptitude, refinement and civility. This is called animalistic dehumanisation.

In the second, groups are denied traits fundamental – but not necessarily unique – to humans (such as warmth and being emotional). This typically means groups are likened to robots or self-operating machines. This is called mechanistic dehumanisation.

Both kinds of dehumanisation strip people of intrinsic human qualities and dignity, while morally justifying discrimination and violence against them. It is an outcome of racism, xenophobia, misogyny and religious intolerance.

Compared to group-based terms like “Islamophobia” or “antisemitism”, dehumanisation is a broader and more inclusive definition of hate. It applies to hate directed at the disabled and homeless, as well as racial, religious and sexual minorities. It also includes everyday hate, with no historical or political backdrop.

In February this year, the Australian Human Rights Commission, after consulting widely with Arab, Jewish, Muslim and Palestinian communities, published a report noting that dehumanisation was “a common characteristic of racist incidents”.

Viewing or framing everyone within the same community as having “the same inherent nature” fosters “isolation, exclusion and fear”, the report said.

Hate speech

Dehumanisation can appear in subtle forms, like thinking others lack fully developed human qualities, so are incapable. This can lead to negative stereotypes.

For example, Black and Indigenous communities are often portrayed as dangerous, backward and inherently prone to criminality. Samuel Huntington’s Clash of Civilisations (1996) is just one example of a widely cited, “classic” book that portrays Muslims as violent and backward,. It states “Islam’s borders are bloody and so are its innards”. Its many critics include Edward Said.

In its stronger form, dehumanisation involves seeing groups of people as animals or machines. This can create a feeling of disgust, and escalate to a desire by one group to exterminate the other.

History shows the danger of dehumanisation if it is not stopped early. Before the 1994 genocide in Rwanda, Hutu leaders labelled all Tutsi men, women and children cockroaches. In Nazi Germany, Jewish people were likened to viruses or parasites, which led to murder and genocide.

Israeli officials have used animal and insect metaphors to dehumanise Palestinian people and justify violence.

In Australia (and around the world), First Nations people were exploited and mistreated, cast as less than human. In just one example, up to 20 Aboriginal people were taken from northern Australia to be exhibited alongside animals in a “Human Zoo” that toured Europe and North America in the 18th and 19th centuries.

Responding to different forms of hate

Community-specific hate definitions are shaped by unique histories and struggles. Yet hate is rarely one-dimensional. The term dehumanisation helps address:

• Complex motives: hate often stems from a mix of religion, race, gender and politics – not just one identity.

• Intersectionality: groups with overlapping vulnerabilities – such as Muslim women who are visibly identifiable, migrants or solo mothers – often face layered discrimination, missed by single definitions.

• Regional and historical differences: antisemitism in Europe, Islamophobia in China or anti-Black racism in the US vary widely in context and expression.

• Blurry lines between critique and hate: legitimate criticism is sometimes wrongly branded as bigotry. Criticism of the Taliban, for example, is not Islamophobia. Nor is criticism of the current Israeli government’s actions necessarily antisemitic.

• Uncategorised hate: Dehumanisation captures harms that fall outside traditional categories. This includes discrimination against the elderly, obese, mentally ill, or homeless.

• Clarity: University complaint officers can lack the legal or cultural expertise to interpret nuanced definitions. A dehumanisation framework simplifies the process. It focuses on impact, not intent.

Yet, dehumanisation as a framework needs to be made even stronger.

It should cover hate-motivated property damage. It should be legally grounded and adaptable across marginalised groups. And it should be tested by complaint officers, so it can streamline responses, aligned with Australia’s Racial Discrimination Act (Sections 18C and 18D), to ensure fairness across all forms of hate.

An inclusive alternative

Global tensions have led to growing pressure on universities to adopt politicised, sometimes controversial definitions of antisemitism and Islamophobia.

Such community-specific definitions have educational value. They raise awareness and build empathy. But relying solely on them can risk creating a hierarchy of hate, over-prioritising some groups, while leaving others unrecognised or unsupported.

Research suggests dehumanisation is a more inclusive, evidence-informed alternative. As a standalone, standard description of hate, dehumanisation highlights our common vulnerability to hate and exclusion. And it invites collective strategies to overcome it, regardless of background.

Derya Iner does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.