The dawn-morning thunder of boots and badges crashing through heavy doors in Melbourne, Sydney and Adelaide is rewriting the story of Australia’s sex-industry frontline — and for many Asian migrant workers it reads like a warning. In recent weeks the Scarlet Alliance and other sex-worker advocacy groups have raised the alarm about what they say are racially disproportionate raids by the Australian Border Force (ABF) and state police on brothels and massage parlours staffed largely by women from Asian communities.
These crack-downs, ostensibly pitched as efforts to combat trafficking and “illegal” sex work, are being condemned by worker-led campaigns as thinly veiled acts of racism — the kind of “dawn raid” style policing long used to target minority-ethnic labour. One blog post from Sydney Criminal Lawyers titled “Sex Workers Unite to Condemn Racist Raids Against Asian Migrant Workers in Brothels” charges that these operations “fail to engage with the lived realities of migrant sex workers” and instead reinforce racialised stereotypes of Asian women as vulnerable, silent and in need of rescue.
The context is essential. Sex work in Australia occupies a patchwork legal map: street work remains criminalised in many states, while brothels and escort services are regulated or decriminalised in others. According to a 2020 report by the Australian Institute of Criminology, migrant sex workers face layered stigma: they negotiate clients and employers, language barriers, visa uncertainty and police attention, all while often working outside the formal employment protections.
In the brothels of Sydney’s outer suburbs and under the fluorescent signs of Melbourne’s fringe red-light corridors, a significant share of workers are Asian migrant women. One ABC feature found that many of these women prefer to keep their jobs secret from family and friends because of the stigma, reinforcing their vulnerability to exploitative conditions. Advocacy groups say this visibility problem feeds directly into policing bias — because when a raid happens, it tends to zero in on venues staffed by ethnic-minority workers, rather than mainstream outlets. “The assumption that Asian workers are inherently trafficking victims is racist,” says a speaker from the worker-led group Sex Workers Outreach Project NSW.
It’s also worth remembering that Australia’s sex-industry history has long been tinted by immigration and racialised labour. From the late 19th-century “karayuki-san” era of Japanese women trafficked into colonial settings to serve non-white male labourers, to modern migrant flows from East- and Southeast-Asia, the notion of an “exotic” Asian sex worker has been embedded in cultural stereotypes. These histories don’t just disappear; they shape how law-enforcement and rescue-industry mentalities view migrant workers today.
For women working in brothels, the impending knock of police or border officers can trigger a cascade of consequences: fear of detention, deportation, loss of income, even trauma. The raids are often carried out without meaningful consultation with workers themselves, leaving them with no voice in the process. Meanwhile, industry insiders argue that such tactics disrupt safer working environments and push more workers underground — exactly the opposite of harm-reduction aims.
Critics argue that the “rescue” rhetoric is also a smokescreen. While trafficking is a real and urgent problem, conflating all Asian migrant sex workers with “trafficked victims” erases the agency of many who make conscious choices, and traps them in a narrative of victimhood. One paper frames this as the racialised bordering politics of sexual humanitarianism: where migrant sex workers are subjected to dual regimes of stigma and surveillance simply because of their ethnicity and job.
So what’s the up-shot for policy in Australia? Sex-worker organisations say raids must be replaced with rights-based, worker-centred regulation, inclusive of migrant voices. That means no more blanket brothel storming. It means visa pathways for migrant workers, anti-racism training for enforcement agencies, and clearly differentiated responses to genuine trafficking versus voluntary sex work. It means acknowledging that Asian migrant workers are not just victims in a shiny hard-copy policy brief, but individuals with desires, fears and rights.
As the morning light reveals the aftermath of another raid — locked doors, shaken workers, seized cash, deportation threats — the question hangs in the air: Is Australia policing ethnicity under the guise of protecting victims? For the women at the sharp end, the question is immediate: When the sirens fade and the Abbot Street woolgathering ends, who will stand for their rights?
My dear sisters, Auntie’s heart burns hotter than a Melbourne summer when she sees our Asian women being dragged out of brothels like criminals, humiliated for daring to earn a living. Let’s be clear — what happened in these so-called “rescue” raids is not about justice, nor protection. It’s about easy targets. The Australian Border Force and police know where the cameras are, and who looks foreign enough to parade for the evening news.
To my Asian sisters — Thai, Chinese, Filipino, Vietnamese, Korean, Malaysian, Nepalese, and beyond — Auntie sees you. Many of you left home chasing a better life, supporting families, paying school fees, and sending remittances back through Western Union counters while politicians call you “illegal workers.” You’re not victims; you’re survivors of a global system that values your beauty but not your humanity. And when cops storm your workplace under the banner of “anti-trafficking,” they’re not saving you. They’re saving face.
Let’s also clap for the brave souls of the Scarlet Alliance, SWOP, and other sex-worker organizations — the real defenders of human rights in this fight. They’re the ones providing legal aid, safe spaces, and a voice when the mainstream media refuses to listen. It’s their press statements, not the police ones, that tell the truth: that these raids are racist, selective, and cruel. They don’t touch the glossy “gentlemen’s clubs” or the high-end escort agencies. No, the authorities go after migrant women with accents, dark hair, and little power.
Auntie has a bone to pick with the Albanese government, too. If Labor really wants to prove it stands for inclusion and multiculturalism, it should stop turning these women into scapegoats to placate Australia’s rising anti-Asian sentiment. Don’t use migrant workers to polish your “law and order” credentials. Don’t weaponize morality against those whose only “crime” is trying to survive in a world that gives them no other option.
Australia likes to boast about its “fair go,” but fairness isn’t found in a raid. It’s found in rights, protection, and dignity — for all workers, regardless of their passport or job title. Auntie stands with her sisters in stilettos, sarongs, and survival mode. The message is simple, baby: Stop the racist raids. Start treating sex workers as workers. And to the government — do better, before Auntie shows up at Parliament House with her red lipstick and a very loud megaphone.