The Royal Commission into Antisemitism in Australia opened its formal proceedings this week, with former High Court Justice Virginia Bell setting a deliberately measured tone that will please some stakeholders and disappoint others in equal measure.
Bell, who brings decades of judicial experience to one of the most politically charged inquiries in recent memory, delivered an opening address that functioned as much as a reality check as a statement of intent. Observers who had hoped the commission would serve as a vehicle for sweeping conclusions — or conversely, those who feared it would — came away with a considerably more complicated picture.
The inquiry was established against a backdrop of heightened community tension. Since the Hamas attacks of October 7, 2023, and the subsequent Israeli military campaign in Gaza, Australian Jewish communities have documented a significant rise in antisemitic incidents, from verbal abuse and property damage to coordinated online harassment. The government's decision to establish a royal commission reflected both genuine concern and a recognition that the issue demanded a structured, authoritative response.
Bell made clear from the outset that the commission would be scrupulously bounded by its terms of reference. She is operating in a constrained environment, one shaped by political sensitivities that extend well beyond any single community's expectations. Notably, two concepts that many commentators and advocates had anticipated would feature in her opening remarks were conspicuously absent — an omission the Sydney Morning Herald described as significant in framing the commission's likely approach.
Competing Expectations
For the Jewish community, the commission represents a long-sought formal acknowledgement of the threat posed by antisemitism in Australian public life. Community organisations have spent years documenting incidents and advocating for a more robust institutional response, and the royal commission format carries genuine weight.
For those on the progressive side of politics, questions persist about how the commission will navigate the relationship between antisemitism and legitimate political debate about the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. Civil liberties advocates, meanwhile, have raised concerns about the potential for a commission of this nature to create a chilling effect on protected political speech — concerns that are not frivolous and deserve serious consideration in any final recommendations.
Bell's evident awareness of these competing pressures is appropriate. A royal commission that overreaches its mandate risks producing findings that are easily dismissed; one that pulls its punches risks failing the very communities it was established to serve. The narrow path between those outcomes is the one she appears to be walking.
The Policy Question That Remains
The deeper question underpinning the entire exercise is whether Australia's existing legislative framework — including racial hatred provisions under the Racial Discrimination Act 1975 — is adequate to address contemporary forms of antisemitism, including those that operate through coded language, social media algorithms, and organised online campaigns. That is precisely the kind of question a royal commission is well-placed to examine, and where evidence-based recommendations could meaningfully strengthen Australia's response.
Royal commissions are not courts. They find facts and make recommendations, but they cannot compel legislative change. Their lasting value depends on the quality of their analysis and the political will of governments to act on the findings. Bell's first day demonstrated that she understands both the weight of the task and the limitations of the instrument. Whether the commission ultimately produces rigorous, actionable analysis will depend on how it navigates the difficult terrain ahead — terrain that, on day one, she appeared to approach with clear eyes.
Originally reported by the Sydney Morning Herald.