Everyone soon came to realise that waiting around was the unofficial sport of the week. From the moment I showed up to get accredited – because apparently, getting a lanyard is the first step to “activism” – it was endless queues, and people frantically shuffling in factional groups acting like they left their entire political manifesto at home.
The process felt like a cruel joke. I mean, honestly, if they spent less time on getting people into lines and more on organising the event, maybe we’d actually finish on time?
By the time we got to start for day 1, it was nearly dinner, and the sun had been brutally hot. The conference, scheduled to open at 5pm, was off to a predictably dismal start. Organisers’ mounting frustrations as delegates arrived sporadically, and tempers flared before even a single motion hit the floor. From the get-go, the procedural motions were a battlefield. Throughout the debate, SAlt was particularly vocal, accusing Unity and NLS of reducing the conference to electioneering rather than genuine activism. Independents pleading for everyone to speak to the motions, instead of criticising the Labor government’s every move.
Sitting at the back after being held outside for the longest time (media was let in last, thanks guys) I couldn’t stop myself from huffing whilst documenting comprehensive minutes of these people thinking that yelling over each other is a conducive work environment.
Chief among the events of this conference is the perennial standoff between Labor and pretty much everyone else, the many ideological juggernauts whose rivalry defines much of the conference. SAlt positions itself as the righteous defender of students, railing against the Labor Party for betraying union values and profiting at the expense of young people. Unity, meanwhile, clings to a more pragmatic tone, attempting to argue for collaboration with university management – a stance that earns them jeers of “scab!” from SAlt at every turn. It’s a battle of purity versus pragmatism, waged with speeches, procedural amendments, and no small amount of heckling.
During every session of the conference so far, free speech and protest have emerged as dominant talking points, though they often felt like abstractions wielded for rhetorical advantage rather than substantive discourse. Delegates were quick to champion the right to protest—especially when it aligned with their own politics—but just as quick to dismiss dissenting voices. The irony of advocating for free expression while silencing opponents was lost on no one, though it did underscore the broader tension between ideological purity and the messy realities of democratic processes. Omar El-Sobihy (Unity/PYC) spoke to the pivotal role of student activism in achieving goals, asserting that “student activism has been at the heart of getting what we want as unionists.” His remark highlighted the critical importance of safeguarding the right to protest, delivering a pointed appeal to the conference floor, where seasoned hacks and newcomers alike deliberate.
Here are some of Vertigo’s key takeaways from procedural gymnastics of Day 1 and 2:
The talk on union business held up much of the Day 1 evening session, the only session of the day, since it took us the rest of it to get in. Speaker Salma Elmubasher (Unity/PYC) brought a deeply human element to the room, speaking with sincerity about the ongoing pain in Palestine: “The pain is widespread and unrelenting… unions are built on solidarity, and it is our duty to represent.” Her words struck a chord, reminding everyone that unions are not just political organisations but are rooted in the duty to advocate for those who are suffering, regardless of political lines.
There was then the broader debate over student unionism itself, a topic that felt like the intellectual equivalent of trench warfare. Unity played the practical card, emphasising the importance of collaboration with university management (cue SAlt groaning in unison), while SAlt argued that such collaboration amounted to betrayal. Words like “solidarity,” and “cuts,” were thrown around so liberally that they began to lose all meaning. At one point, it felt like the entire room was engaged in an unspoken competition to see who could work “neoliberalism” into a sentence the fastest.
The motion to abolish youth wages became an unexpected flashpoint, with all factions arguing that if you do the same work, you get the same pay. Xavier Olsen (La Trobe, NLS) pointed out that if the NUS truly cares about students, this should be at the top of the agenda. Speakers brought out personal experiences into the conversation and made the issue of youth wages feel all the more urgent, calling it morally and sensibly wrong to keep youth wages artificially low.
Day 2 certainly picked up speed with First Nations issues as front and centre throughout the conference session 1, with strong motions on sovereignty, land rights, and solidarity with Indigenous communities. Speakers didn’t hold back, directly calling out Australia’s colonial history and demanding meaningful action on truth-telling, treaties, and reparations. The motions on this passed, though not without some heated moments between factions. Daniel (NLS) said that “Unity should hang their heads in shame” when striking an action point from motion “9.2 Sovereignty Was Never Ceded So Give Land Back.” There was also a resounding call for solidarity with Māori in Aotearoa, highlighting the interconnectedness of these struggles globally.
Education followed, firmly under the microscope, with motions like "NUS Opposes the New Wave of University Cuts" receiving widespread support. But, as expected, the factions didn’t always agree on the best approach. SAlt pushed for bold, sweeping changes, while Unity focused more on practical, immediate steps to address the issues. Mia Campbell (Unity, UTSSA President) spoke on a motion passed at the UTSSA SRC that condemns staff cuts and reductions. Like the rest of us in the room sick of the bickering, she also refused to speak further when SAlt were yelling at her. The key takeaway? Students are financially struggling, and many want education to be treated as a public good, not just another money-making machine for universities.
The theme of accessibility for disabled students was the final hot topic, and despite the exhaustion, motions addressing issues like attendance policies, workloads, and digital learning received overwhelming support, with the general consensus being that more needs to be done to ensure equal access. Grassroots spoke to cuts on the NDIS and neoliberal austerity cuts. SAlt, however, spoke against Labor itself (we all question every time they speak if the motions will be addressed directly), citing the underlying problem of the for-profit nature of disability care schemes.
However, tensions flared when SAlt criticised Unity’s approach, accusing them of performative action. Unity used AUSLAN for accessibility in the final session, and SAlt’s refusal to do so in protest highlighted their frustration with what they viewed as shallow efforts at inclusion. The division was clear: while there was no shortage of will to change things, the paths to those changes were markedly different, and the frustrations of the final session only intensified the debate.
The pièce de résistance? The sheer endurance required to get through each day. Students baked under the sun while waiting to get into the theatre, only to shuffle into an air-conditioned room where the heat came from verbal sparring rather than the weather. The procedural motions were endless, with each bloc of items seemingly designed to drag out the agony. If there’s a more effective way to test someone’s commitment to activism than forcing them to sit through hours of amendments, I’ve yet to find it.
So as Day 1 and 2 of the NUS National Conference limped to a close, Day 3 and 4 seem to be already a looming spectre—more speeches, more debates, more chaos—but will any of it actually lead to change? As the sun sets on this marathon of motions and microaggressions, one thing is certain: the real battle will be surviving the next few days without getting lost in the ever-expanding labyrinth of factional rivalries. Hold on tight, comrades.