What comes after truth? Sweden prepares landmark Sámi report

Sweden is working through a formal reckoning of its historical treatment of the Sámi people. As the process enters its final phase, attention is turning not only to what the report will say, but why the country has taken a longer and more complicated approach than its Nordic neighbors.

While Norway and Finland have already completed their commissions, Sweden has suffered delays and turnover at the top with the final report not expected until October.

The Truth Commission for the Sámi People, launched in 2021, has been investigating the legacy of state policies that marginalized Sámi communities, including restrictions on language, land use and cultural practices. For commissioner Dr Krister Stoor, the scale of the task helps explain the timeline.

The final body of work is expected to run to hundreds of pages and draw on testimony from more than 300 people, alongside historical research and policy recommendations.

“We’ve had to gather a great many stories, carry out extensive research and bring them together in a report that can guide what comes next,” Stoor says. “That takes time, but it is necessary if we are to do our work properly.”

Why Sweden chose truth before reconciliation

Sweden’s path to the final report is also more complicated, as indicated in the name. Unlike the commissions in Norway and Finland, which were formally framed as truth and reconciliation, Sweden’s official title only includes the word truth.

This deliberate distinction reflects the view of the Sámi Parliament, which originally pushed for this process back in 2014.

Dr Malin Arvidsson, who was a commissioner in an earlier Swedish commission for other minority groups, says the process was deliberately framed this way by those involved in preparing the commission.

“They argued that the truth must come first,” she says, describing an approach where reconciliation would only be discussed after the publication of a final report.

Why the Swedes are taking longer

Sweden’s extended time frame is a question Stoor says can’t be answered by the calendar alone. So far, the process has faced a series of practical and internal challenges that repeatedly slowed the work.

The commission originally began with 12 members, but is now down to nine after three members stepped down. Stoor says that’s not as bad as it sounds. Only person left due to ideological differences, while the other two suffered serious health issues. But the process has also been disrupted by high-level resignations.

Two successive chairs stepped down before Lena Nyberg was appointed in 2025. Stoor sees the commission on firmer footing under Nyberg’s leadership. “It is working well now,” he says, praising the current chair for helping bring stability and focus during this final phase.

The work itself has also been logistically demanding. Gathering testimony means reaching people across the vast geography of northern Sweden, often in remote communities and sometimes in several Sámi languages. Arvidsson says these processes are difficult to schedule precisely because commissions depend on people coming forward in their own time and in their preferred language. So rather than rush the final report, Stoor says the commission ultimately concluded that more time was needed to complete a task of this scale properly.

What has the commission uncovered so far?

Although the final report is still to come, Stoor said several themes have already emerged clearly through the commission’s research and testimony. They include the long erosion of Sámi land rights, the loss of language, discrimination in public life and education, and efforts to suppress or marginalize Sámi culture.

Accounts gathered by the commission also include painful experiences of boarding and nomad schools, where many Sámi children were separated from their families and discouraged — or even forbidden — from speaking their own language. For many families, the effects of those policies are being felt across generations.

“The 19th century was a turning point,” Stoor said. “That was when the Swedish state took away Sámi rights, while settlers were given property rights.”

The commission has also examined how older policies continue to influence modern debates over land use, reindeer herding, mining and political representation. “In that sense, the inquiry is not only about the past, but how the past still shapes relations between the Swedish state and the Sámi people today.”

For Stoor, who has Sámi roots himself, these histories are also personal. He describes how connections to land and place are central to Sámi life, in ways that can’t easily be captured in official reports.

“We belong to the land,” Stoor said. “But we don’t own the land, I think the land owns us.”

What happens after October?

If the report marks the end of the commission’s work, it also opens a new uncertain phase. With elections approaching, Stoor was candid about the risks. “I’m a little concerned that after we’ve done our work, will the government really want to follow through?”

The commission is expected to propose a wide range of measures, some more difficult than others to achieve. However, Stoor points out some steps he believes could be taken quickly.

“One easy win would be to give the Sámi Parliament more power and a lot more money,” he says. “What they have today is very small numbers, and for culture it’s almost nothing at all.”

Stoor also points to the need for stronger cultural infrastructure. “They could establish a national Sámi theater,” he said. “It could go together with the parliament. That’s something you could solve quite easily.”

Even so, Stoor returns to the same underlying concern. Producing recommendations is one thing. The real test, he said, will be whether they are translated into action.

As Arvidsson puts it, truth commissions are not designed to provide closure. “They are temporary bodies,” she says. “What matters is the follow-up, the institutions, the education and the political will to carry the work forward.”