The United Nations defines a refugee as one who leaves his or her country of nationality due to "well-founded" fears of persecution for reasons of race, religion, nationality, or membership of a particular social group or political organisation. Australia adopted the 1951 UN Refugee Convention very early, partly because it was in dire need of European workers for its national development and partly because of its genuine humanitarian concern for those whose lives had been shattered by the Second World War and its aftermath.

Living conditions may have been spartan, the environment sometimes harsh and the food and language foreign, but for most refugees half a century ago, Australia was a welcome and welcoming safe haven and an opportunity to restore normalcy and dignity to their lives. The vast majority eventually settled here permanently with little or no regrets, contributing unselfishly to the growth of both Australia’s economy and its cultural diversity.

Fifty years later, Australians are asking themselves "What’s gone wrong?" Any mention of refugees now is accompanied by events like riots, hunger strikes, mass breakouts, assaults, intimidation, abuse, isolation and, sadly, even death. Recently Shahraz Kayani, a 48-year-old Pakistani father, died in Concord Hospital, Sydney, due to severe infection resulting from self-inflicted burns to 54% of his body. Mr Kayani set himself alight outside Parliament House in Canberra after unsuccessfully battling to have his wife and family - including a 10-year-old daughter suffering from cerebral palsy - join him here. He epitomised in a most horrific and ultimately fatal way the desperate extent to which refugees can thrust themselves in order to bring attention to their plight and recognition of their traumatic circumstances.

Exactly how and when did Australia’s refugee policy turn from being humanitarian and start to become punitive? Mandatory detention of refugees for lengthy periods (often-even years) is now the norm in Australia, but it remains a breach of international human rights law by arbitrarily depriving people of their liberty. Immigration Detention Centres are in reality prisons and are definitely not "just like homes" as the Minister for Immigration, Mr Ruddock, so insensitively put it in March this year. What Australian homes are run by a private American prison company (the Australasian Correctional Management) whose sleeping, food, recreation, security and privacy conditions have been soundly and justly criticised? Prisons are not renowned as reforming institutions. Quite the opposite, in fact. Heavy-handed guards and corrupt administrative practices can hardly be regarded as the best means to improve the character and attitude of the inmates.

The vast majority of refugees currently within Australian Immigration Detention Centres are Muslims and have already suffered unimaginable traumatic experiences just getting here. Now they are treated like criminals, kept behind razorwire fences, denied access to information and basic legal services, and segregated from their families and loved ones. Is it any wonder then that these restrictions, coupled with various post-traumatic stress disorders, lead to disturbances and conflict? Late last year an alleged incident of sexual abuse was reported - after an eight month delay - involving a 12-year-old boy at Woomera Detention Centre. That report later turned out to be incorrect, but there are others surfacing now of alleged indecent and physical assaults as well as the stalking of women and children by fellow refugees. Is this just another example of a hysterical media beat-up or is it the tip of the proverbial iceberg? The Department of Immigration cannot simply wait but must initiate positive action to improve the conditions under which these refugees languish, before it is too late.