The Yoorrook Justice Commission's final report, released in July 2025, has sparked intense debate by asserting that the colonisation of Victoria constituted genocide and that Aboriginal lands were stolen. Drawing on over 1,300 submissions and 10,000 documents, the commission paints a harrowing picture of colonial violence, cultural suppression, and systemic exclusion. While these findings resonate deeply with Aboriginal communities and reflect undeniable historical injustices, their framing invites critical scrutiny. This post offers acritique of the commission's claims, examining their legal, historical, and political implications.
The commission's assertion that colonisation in Victoria amounted to genocide is grounded in the United Nations Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide (1948), which defines genocide as acts committed with intent to destroy, in whole or in part, a national, ethnical, racial, or religious group. The report cites massacres, forced child removals, cultural suppression, and economic exclusion as evidence. However, this characterisation raises several concerns.
First, the legal definition of genocide hinges on specific intent to destroy a group. While colonial policies caused catastrophic harm, massacres on the frontier, the Aboriginal Protection Act 1869 restricting movement, and child removals under assimilation policies, the evidence for a coordinated, deliberate plan to eradicate Aboriginal peoples is contentious. Historians like Keith Windschuttle argue that many colonial actions, however harmful, were framed as "protection" or assimilation, rather than extermination. Unlike the Rwandan genocide, explicit policy documents mandating annihilation are scarce. This gap weakens the legal genocide claim, though the moral weight of the outcomes remains undeniable.
Second, the commission's broad application of "genocide" to include cultural destruction and systemic exclusion, risks diluting the term's precision. Cultural suppression, while devastating, does not always meet the legal threshold of genocide, which involves physical or biological destruction. This expansive framing could undermine the term's gravity in international law and invite scepticism about the commission's objectivity, especially given dissent among commissioners like Sue-Anne Hunter and Maggie Walter over parts of the historical record.
Finally, comparative context matters. Truth commissions in South Africa or Canada have rarely labelled colonial histories as genocide, focusing instead on systemic abuse or reconciliation. By positioning Victoria's history as uniquely genocidal, the commission risks polarising public reception, as seen in media critiques warning of societal division.
The claim that the "whole of the country was stolen" reflects the undeniable dispossession of Aboriginal lands through colonisation without treaties or consent. Violent dispossession, restrictive policies, and economic exclusion are well-documented. Yet, the term "stolen" invites critique for oversimplifying a multifaceted process.
Legally, colonial land acquisition relied on the now-discredited doctrine of terra nullius, which deemed lands unoccupied despite Aboriginal presence. While unjust, this framework shaped colonial actions, involving not just violence but also economic pressures and squatter expansion. The term "stolen" implies a singular act, which may obscure this complexity. Historians like Geoffrey Blainey argue that colonisation involved localised conflicts and economic motives alongside violence, suggesting a fragmented rather than monolithic process.
The narrative also carries contemporary implications. The commission's call for land return and compensation, assumes historical dispossession translates directly to modern reparative obligations. Critics, including Victoria's opposition leader Brad Battin, argue this risks prioritising historical grievances over pressing issues like cost of living, potentially alienating non-Indigenous Victorians. The "stolen country" framing may complicate treaty negotiations by implying a zero-sum transfer of land or sovereignty, which could inflame tensions rather than foster reconciliation.
Some historians, like Windschuttle, challenge the extent of dispossession narratives, noting that Aboriginal communities in some areas maintained land access or adapted through negotiation. While controversial, these arguments underscore the need for nuanced evidence to support claims of total land theft. The commission's reliance on oral testimonies, while vital, may be seen as choosing narrative over archival records, which are often incomplete or biased themselves.
The Yoorrook Commission's methodology, while inclusive and Aboriginal-led, raises questions about balance. Its 1,300 submissions, primarily from Aboriginal communities, and 10,000 documents provide a rich evidence base, but the emphasis on oral testimonies risks being perceived as selective if not rigorously cross-referenced with archival records. Critics like Windschuttle have questioned similar inquiries, such as the Bringing Them Home report, for ranking oral accounts over written records, a critique that could apply here.
The commission's broad scope, covering all aspects of colonization's impact, may dilute its ability to provide granular evidence for specific claims like genocide. Its dual role as both inquiry and advocacy, framing the report as a "blueprint" for justice, risks undermining perceived neutrality. The dissent among commissioners and the resignation of some during the process, further signal potential issues with the strength or interpretation of findings.
The commission's findings carry significant political weight, particularly in Victoria's treaty process and national debates about Indigenous justice. The use of terms like "genocide" and "stolen country" risks deepening societal divisions, as evidenced by the opposition's critique of an "ideological agenda." Outlets like Quadrant have labelled related narratives, such as the Stolen Generations, as exaggerated, potentially fuelling public scepticism.
The Victorian government's response, accepting only six of 46 interim recommendations and rejecting key reforms like bail changes, suggests a disconnect between the commission's ambitions and political realities. This gap raises questions about the report's actionable impact, with treaty negotiations now tasked with addressing unresolved issues. The cancellation of truth-telling processes in Queensland and the Northern Territory highlights the fragility of such initiatives, and Yoorrook's strong language may deter other governments from pursuing similar efforts.
While the commission's findings align with Aboriginal experiences and voices like Lidia Thorpe and Thomas Mayo, alternative perspectives offer balance. Historians like Blainey argue that colonial violence, while horrific, was often driven by localised conflicts or economic motives rather than a singular genocidal policy. The commission itself acknowledges Aboriginal resilience, noting that "survival became the ultimate resistance." Focusing on genocide and theft risks overshadowing stories of agency and cultural continuity, which are equally vital.
The call for all Victorians to "accept, recognise, and reconcile" with the findings raises questions about collective responsibility. Holding contemporary society accountable for historical actions may foster guilt or resentment rather than dialogue, especially when practical recommendations, like education reform, are overshadowed by emotive language.
The Yoorrook Justice Commission's claims of genocide and stolen land reflect profound historical injustices, supported by extensive evidence and Aboriginal voices. However, the genocide label stretches legal definitions, risking overstatement, while the "stolen country" narrative simplifies a complex history. Methodological concerns and political resistance further complicate the report's impact. A balanced approach would acknowledge colonisation's harms and large benefits (i.e. civilisation), while fostering dialogue that bridges divides, ensuring truth-telling serves reconciliation rather than division, which is what occurred with Yoorrook.