Why Adoptees Have Every Right to Reject Australia Day
and Why Criticizing Them Reveals Complicity
For many Australians, January 26 is a day of celebration marked by barbecues, and national pride. But for others – particularly adoptees affected by forced adoption – it is a painful reminder of the systemic harm woven into the country’s history. When adoptees speak out against Australia Day, they are not simply rejecting a public holiday; they are rejecting a narrative that has long erased the realities of dispossession, exploitation, and identity theft.
To criticize adoptees for their stance is to misunderstand – or willfully ignore – the deep connections between their experiences and the colonial history Australia Day represents. It reveals a refusal to confront complicity in systems of harm and a discomfort with the truth adoptees embody: that this nation’s history is as much about loss and suffering as it is about growth and pride.
The Legacy of Forced Adoption and Its Colonial Roots.
Forced adoption in Australia, particularly during the 20th century, was not an isolated phenomenon. It was part of a larger pattern of institutional control, where governments, churches, and adoption agencies wielded power over vulnerable individuals – most often unmarried mothers and their children. These practices robbed countless adoptees of their birth families, cultures, and identities, leaving a legacy of trauma that persists today.
The forced removal of children from their families has striking parallels with Australia’s treatment of Indigenous peoples. The Stolen Generations, for example, experienced the same systemic severing of family ties in the name of assimilation and colonial dominance. These practices were justified by a belief in the superiority of white settler society – a belief that underpins the very foundation of Australia Day.
To ask adoptees to celebrate January 26 is to ask them to ignore the parallels between their personal histories and the broader history of dispossession in this country. It is to demand that they cheer for the systems that erased them.
Criticism of Adoptees:
A Reflection of Complicity.
When adoptees speak out against Australia Day, the backlash is often swift and harsh. Critics accuse them of being “ungrateful” or “unpatriotic,” as though refusing to celebrate a national holiday is a betrayal of the country itself. But this criticism is not about adoptees – it’s about the discomfort their refusal causes.
Adoptees, by rejecting Australia Day, force us to confront uncomfortable truths:
- That Australia’s history is one of systemic harm and exploitation.
- That institutions of power have not only failed to protect vulnerable people but have actively caused their suffering.
- That national pride often comes at the expense of acknowledging the pain of others.
This discomfort can lead to deflection. Rather than grappling with the ways they benefit from or perpetuate these systems, critics of adoptees turn their frustration outward. They attack the very people whose lives have been shaped by the injustices these systems created.
The Government’s Refusal to Establish a Royal Commission
Adding to my frustration, I have personally been told by the office of Prime Minister Anthony Albanese that there is no intention to establish a Royal Commission into forced adoptions at this time. I was informed that Royal Commissions are only established in “exceptional circumstances,” and while forced adoption practices are acknowledged as wrong, the government does not view them as warranting such a high-level investigation even though various legal scholars have deemed not only Forced Adoption but also Adoption as “exceptional circumstances.”
Anthony Albanese, that at this time, there is no indication or intention to establish a Royal Commission into this issue.
“In terms of your request for the establishment of a Royal Commission into forced adoption, Royal Commissions are a form of non-judicial and non-administrative governmental investigation and are only established in exceptional circumstances. Royal Commissions are established by the Governor-General, in accordance with the Royal Commissions Act 1902 and on the advice of the government, to inquire into matters of public importance. The government of the day determines the need to request a royal commission. At this time, the Government has not indicated an intention to establish a Royal Commission into this issue.”
office of Prime Minister Anthony Albanese
This response is deeply disheartening. A Royal Commission is exactly what is needed to comprehensively investigate the systemic abuses that allowed these practices to thrive for decades. Without a Royal Commission, there is no formal mechanism to hold the institutions responsible for these atrocities fully accountable. It also limits the scope for legal reform, leaving survivors of adoption and forced adoption without adequate means to seek justice.
The refusal of the government to act on this front underscores a broader resistance to confront the depth of the harm caused. While apologies and inquiries are important, they are only part of the process. True justice for adoptees and mothers requires a full reckoning — something that can only be achieved through a Royal Commission.
The refusal by the office of Prime Minister Anthony Albanese to consider a Royal Commission into forced adoptions undercuts the gravity of the injustices inflicted on generations of adoptees and their families. By framing Royal Commissions as reserved for “exceptional circumstances,” the government diminishes the systemic abuses perpetrated through forced adoption policies — abuses that many legal scholars and survivors argue are quintessential examples of “exceptional circumstances.”
Nahum Mushin and the 2013 Apology
Professor Nahum Mushin is a distinguished legal professional, educator, and advocate recognized for his significant contributions to family law, legal education, and social justice. With over two decades of service as a judge of the Family Court of Australia, he earned a reputation for his deep understanding of legal complexities and his commitment to fair adjudication. An adjunct professor at Monash University, he has shaped future generations of legal minds with his expertise in family law, ethics, and cultural diversity. Professor Mushin also played a pivotal role as Chair of the Australian Government’s Past Forced Adoptions Implementation Working Group, addressing the traumatic legacy of forced adoptions in Australia. Honoured with the Member of the Order of Australia (AM) for his tireless work in law and advocacy, he remains a powerful voice for justice and reform, dedicated to confronting systemic inequities and advocating for marginalized communities.
Professor Mushin, who played a key advisory role in shaping the 2013 National Apology for Forced Adoptions, contributed to an acknowledgment of past wrongs but stopped short of advocating for judicial accountability. His use of the term “illegal” in the context of forced adoptions is crucial. By labelling these acts as not merely unethical but legally dubious, Mushin underscored the need for systemic accountability — a point that remains unresolved.
The government’s reluctance to confront these issues head-on signals a troubling gap between symbolic gestures, like apologies, and substantive justice mechanisms. The word “illegal” opens the door to examining whether those responsible for forced adoption practices violated laws at the time, whether through coercion, forgery, or fraud. Yet without a Royal Commission, this avenue remains closed.
The Implications of “Exceptional Circumstances”
The government’s assertion that Royal Commissions are reserved for “exceptional circumstances” is a profound misjudgment of the scale and impact of forced adoptions. These practices were not isolated incidents; they were systemic, affecting tens of thousands of families and leaving a legacy of trauma, identity erasure, and social ostracism. Forced adoptions were enabled by state institutions, religious organizations, and medical establishments — all of which operated with impunity.
Failing to recognise forced adoption as a matter of exceptional national importance suggests a reluctance to confront the entrenched power dynamics and institutional complicity that made these practices possible. It also denies survivors the comprehensive justice and acknowledgment they deserve. Apologies without action become hollow, failing to address the ongoing harm inflicted by this history.
Broader Resistance to Accountability
This resistance is emblematic of a broader societal unwillingness to fully reckon with historical injustices. Just as Australia struggles with acknowledging the truth of colonization and its effects on First Nations peoples, the refusal to establish a Royal Commission into forced adoptions reflects a fear of uncovering the full extent of systemic harm. It is easier to offer apologies and acknowledge “wrongdoing” in abstract terms than to create mechanisms that might expose the complicity of powerful institutions and lead to calls for reparations or criminal accountability.
The absence of a Royal Commission is not just a bureaucratic decision — it is a moral failing. Acknowledging forced adoption as exceptional is not an act of charity but a necessary reckoning with a shameful chapter of Australia’s history. Without it, the promise of justice for survivors remains unfulfilled.
Solidarity Through Accountability.
Rejecting Australia Day is not an attack on the country; it is a call for accountability. Adoptees who take this stance are asking for a deeper reckoning with history – one that moves beyond shallow apologies and token gestures to address the systemic roots of harm.
Instead of criticizing adoptees, it is worth asking why their stance makes some people so defensive. What does it say about a society that demands silence and conformity from those it has wronged? And what might change if, instead of dismissing their pain, we listened to their stories and stood in solidarity with their call for justice?
A Better Future Begins With Truth.
Australia Day, as it currently exists, is an emblem of denial. It denies the violent history of colonization, the ongoing struggles of Indigenous peoples, and the systemic injustices that have shaped the lives of adoptees and others who have been displaced and dispossessed.
Adoptees who reject this day are not rejecting Australia itself. They are rejecting the falsehood that celebration must come at the cost of truth. Their refusal is an act of courage, a reminder that real pride comes not from ignoring history but from facing it head-on and striving to create a more just and inclusive future.
To criticize them for this is to reveal a commitment to the very systems that have caused so much harm. But to stand with them is to take a step toward the reconciliation and justice Australia so desperately needs.
When will Australia Own Its Accountability?
Australia’s refusal to fully own its accountability for the atrocities of forced adoption reflects a broader pattern of selective reckoning with systemic injustices. From the ongoing denial of sovereignty to First Nations peoples to the hesitancy to confront institutional complicity in historical abuses, the nation continues to sidestep the uncomfortable work of meaningful accountability. The question is not when Australia will own its accountability but what will force it to confront the truth — because history shows that reckoning does not come voluntarily.
Symbolic Gestures Without Substance
Apologies, like the one delivered in 2013 for forced adoptions, are often positioned as milestones of progress. However, without mechanisms like a Royal Commission to ensure accountability, these gestures remain symbolic rather than transformative. Survivors of forced adoption are left with words instead of justice, while the systemic structures that enabled these atrocities escape scrutiny.
Australia has demonstrated a pattern of delaying accountability until public pressure becomes too great to ignore. Whether it was the Royal Commission into Institutional Responses to Child Sexual Abuse or the Stolen Generations, meaningful action only came after relentless advocacy from survivors and their allies. This resistance is rooted in a fear of exposing the full extent of institutional complicity and the potential legal and financial repercussions.
Why the Refusal?
- Protection of Institutions: Governments, churches, hospitals, and welfare organizations that orchestrated forced adoptions fear exposure, as it would challenge their legitimacy and potentially lead to reparations.
- Cultural Amnesia: Australia’s national identity is often built on myths of progress and egalitarianism, leaving little room to confront its darker chapters. Forced adoption, like colonization, disrupts this narrative.
- Political Convenience: Acknowledging forced adoption as “exceptional” would demand resources and political will, neither of which seem to be priorities in a system that values placation over justice.
What Must Happen
- Public Demand for Accountability: Just as survivors drove the Stolen Generations and child sexual abuse inquiries, adoptees and allies must continue to amplify their voices, making it impossible for the government to ignore.
- Framing as a National Crisis: Forced adoption is not a private tragedy but a systemic issue. Public campaigns should emphasize its parallels with other historical abuses that warranted Royal Commissions.
- International Advocacy: Leveraging global human rights platforms could draw attention to Australia’s failure to uphold justice for survivors.
Reckoning Is Inevitable
Accountability will come, but it will not be handed over willingly. It will require relentless advocacy, public pressure, and a refusal to accept apologies as sufficient. The weight of these injustices cannot be buried forever — whether through a Royal Commission, legal challenges, or a cultural awakening, the truth will emerge. The real question is whether Australia will choose to lead with courage or continue to delay, compounding the harm it has already inflicted.
Are you Australian?
Because our Government isn’t!
Sorry is only the beginning for forced adoption survivors
Shane Bouel | The West Australian
medium.com
When “Move On” Is a Weapon: Dismissing the Pain of Forced Adoption Survivors
Every time an article about forced adoptions is published, you can count on the comment section to host the same predictable refrain: “Move on. Every country has a past. Regurgitating it won’t change anything.”
These comments aren’t just ignorant – they’re a direct affront to survivors of forced adoptions and their families. They’re dismissive, minimizing, and steeped in privilege. They suggest that those who lived through these atrocities, whose lives were irreparably altered by the systemic theft of identity and family, should quietly endure their pain so that others don’t have to feel uncomfortable.
Let’s be clear:
Forced adoptions weren’t an unfortunate chapter in history. They were deliberate acts of institutional violence – coercive, often illegal, and always dehumanizing. Families were torn apart, mothers were silenced, and adoptees were stripped of their identities. These aren’t “historical wounds” to be forgotten; they are living scars that survivors carry every single day.
Telling survivors to “move on” is a refusal to acknowledge the gravity of these injustices. It is complicity in the silence that protects the systems and institutions responsible. Healing doesn’t come from turning away – it comes from confronting the truth, dismantling harmful systems, and ensuring accountability.
If you’re tired of hearing about forced adoptions, consider this:
The survivors are tired of living it. They’re tired of waiting for justice in a country that issues apologies with one hand and denies inquiries with the other. They’re tired of having their pain minimized by comments like “regurgitating it won’t change the past.”
Here’s the truth:
Revisiting these stories isn’t about changing the past – it’s about changing the present and the future. It’s about ensuring no other generation experiences this kind of systemic harm. If you think history doesn’t matter, then you’re complicit in its repetition.
To those who feel the need to tell survivors to “move on,” I challenge you to ask yourselves:
Are you really advocating for progress, or are you just trying to silence the voices that make you uncomfortable?
Silence might be easier for you – but for survivors, it’s just another form of harm.
This Is Australia!
