Bill Shorten (Maribyrnong, Australian Labor Party, Leader of the Opposition) Share this | Hansard source

I thank the Prime Minister for his statement.

… we were treated as slaves, beaten and abused, used for their perverted desires. These were terrible years. No love or kindness, no safety or warmth. Always hungry and always frightened.

That's a bare 30 words from the royal commission's final report—one survivor's account of the abuse that he suffered and the betrayal he endured. It is just one story among thousands. Open almost any page of the final report and you can find words that shake us to our core. The child with disability abused daily, who couldn't get an uninterested police officer to take any notice of their plea for help. The good Catholic boy who, after each time he was abused sexually by his priest, had to go to confession and confess his sin of impurity to his abuser. And then this boy, this child, being preyed upon by this monster would be asked if he was sorry and told to do three Hail Marys for penance. There was the student who, after years of being groomed and then sexually abused by her teacher, saw her parents take his side of the argument because she was the instigator.

Every story is different and every story is individual. But, in every young life broken and betrayed, there are common threads. First, there is the disgusting sense of moral superiority, the presumption that the abuser had the authority—even the right—to commit these unforgivable crimes, because they were an adult dealing with a child, or because they were white and the child was black, or because they did not have a disability and the child did, or because they claimed to be acting in the authority of religion. Second, there is the harsh reality that, no matter where the survivor turned for help, they would not be believed. They were children, seen and not heard. They could not find a counsellor to listen to their story. They could not find justice in a criminal court or compensation in a civil court.

These institutions failed our fellow Australians, and then our nation did. People continue to count the cost of that failure in a hundred different way: lives of violence and addiction, substance abuse, post-traumatic stress, poverty and incarceration; lives that never recovered their equilibrium; childhood stolen from children; people who never learned to trust again, who would never love again, whose faith in their fellow human beings was shattered beyond repair.

As one survivor put it:

I felt dirty, and responsible for what happened to me as a child. I have isolated myself … hidden my true feelings. The loneliness I have experienced is overwhelming …

Sometimes, when we say child abuse is unspeakable, actually for too long that was precisely the problem. It wasn't spoken of. Instead, the survivors were silenced. Perpetrators were protected. The reputation of powerful institutions and individuals was put ahead of the welfare of children. Truth was buried, with only trauma and scar tissue to mark its place.

But the royal commission stripped away the denial and betrayal of decades. Painfully at times, it exposed the most unforgivable, unimaginable acts of evil. It has shown without doubt or exception the extraordinary courage of all of the survivors who stepped forward to tell their story, the brave souls who reached back into the darkness of their memories and brought their suffering to light, not for their own sake but because they don't want another generation to ever suffer what they did, to be disbelieved the way they were and to live with the pain that they had to. I also think they did it for all of the other kids who didn't make it.

Therefore, I want to pay tribute to Julia Gillard for her leadership in establishing this royal commission. I actually think that with every passing day that decision enhances her legacy. I thank the royal commission and its staff, as the Prime Minister has done—remarkable, their work. Even though she's not going to ask me to do this, I also think the House should recognise the work of the member for Jagajaga, Jenny Macklin, who supported the endeavour with 100 per cent of her passion for social justice.

I had the privilege of standing alongside Jenny and a group of the remarkable campaigners from CLAN when the commission's final day of hearings was handed down and then the report. They're extraordinary Australians, and I know many members of parliament on both sides of the House have spoken to them and know them, so they'll know what I'm saying. These are survivors. They've spent five years travelling to the royal commission hearings around the country to provide support to others as they tell their stories. I pay tribute to each and every one of them. Again, although she would modestly share credit with all others, I think it is appropriate that I note and salute the incomparable Leonie Sheedy—fierce, fearless, with a heart as big as this continent. Australia owes her and all that she represents a huge debt.

I have to say about the royal commission, the commissioners and their team that at all times they balance their human compassion for those providing testimony with a legal detachment to recommend a constructive way forward. But, as the Prime Minister has done, every member of this place, I think, would agree that the hardest task, the most important work and the greatest credit belong to the survivors themselves. First, as the Prime Minister has done, I say to the survivors: 'Australia believes you. Australia thanks you. Your bravery and honesty has done something that no parliament, no court, no media outlet on its own could or would ever do. You faced us up to a hard truth about our history, and you have shown us that we must do better in the future.'

I can't speak for everyone in this House or indeed Australians, but I for one was shocked at the extent of the abuse. Now it is up to our parliament and to our nation to do just that—to be better, to prove worthy of the courage of the survivors. The report cannot be left to sit on a shelf and gather dust. The stories of raw pain and powerful resilience cannot be consigned to one uncomfortable corner of the national conversation. The royal commission has given us a blueprint; we must follow it. The report calls for the Commonwealth and every state to formally respond to every recommendation within six months. It is a deadline we should meet. Since 2015 federal Labor's focus has been on the design and delivery of the national redress scheme, one where the states and the institutions responsible for the abuse help fund the compensation that is owed.

Compensation in many ways is an unfair term, because anyone who has survived this knows that they are not in it for the compensation, and the compensation can never give them back their childhood or their trust. You cannot ever repair the damage done. No dollar figure can make shattered lives whole or bring people back. But that is no reason for delay, no reason for avoiding clear-cut obligations. As of today not a single dollar has come from any of the states or institutions whose names and deeds fill the pages of this report. I say to the institutions and indeed the states: the time for lawyers is over; the time for justice is here.

If we believe the survivors, and we do, and if we accept responsibility, and we must, then conscience demands only one course of action: we must deliver a truly national redress scheme, one underpinned by uniformity and equity. Trauma does not stop at state borders. Justice should never depend upon your postcode. The Commonwealth has a contribution to make in dollars and in leadership. I invite the Prime Minister to think about an event at this parliament itself to thank and recognise the survivors. But, having spoken about the Commonwealth's obligations, the bulk of the funds must come from state governments and all those institutions who so badly failed their duty of care and trust to children. The money does matter. Compensation at least helps people get back on their feet a bit, but it is also a tangible admission that the institution was at fault and should pay for its wrongs.

I believe that every member of this parliament feels this matter most keenly. When I was a child my mother used to take me to the Polish mass at Sacred Heart in Oakleigh. We lacked Polish ancestry. I said to my mum, 'Why do we go do this mass?' There were four other sessions. It turned out she took us to that service because she didn't like the priest, Father O'Donnell. He approached us to become altar boys. I said, 'What do you think, Mum?' She said no. How lucky was I! It is that sense of a shark swimming imperceptibly, unseen, so close to you. Chrissie and Anthony Foster at that same church, and hundreds of other families affected by this monster, were not so lucky. Thousands of Australians didn't by mere luck avoid their monsters. It is for these people that we must deliver redress.

I would not wish to hear anyone describe the push for national redress as 'rushed'. Survivors have been waiting decades for justice that they are owed, and some—too many—have not even lived to see it. To everyone upon whom redress depends, I simply say this: our nation turned a blind eye to the abuse that our fellow Australians were suffering, and now we know the truth, we cannot turn our backs—no more tricky legal tactics, no more litigation to exhaustion, no more artful means of delay. The days of excusing the inexcusable are long gone. This issue is not about politics, but it is what politics should be about: doing the right thing, making good wrongs and helping the vulnerable. Fundamentally, this is a test of who we are as a parliament, as a people and as a country which calls itself the home of the fair go.

I wish to conclude using the commissioner's final address. On presenting the report, he said:

The sexual abuse of any child is intolerable in a civilised society. It is the responsibility of our entire community to acknowledge that children are being abused. We must each resolve that we should do what we can to protect them. The tragic impact of abuse for individuals and through them our entire society demands nothing less.

Let that profound and clear statement guide us and challenge us to right the wrongs of the past and do better in the future. I thank the House.

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