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Showing posts with label AFP. Show all posts
Showing posts with label AFP. Show all posts

Monday, 10 November 2014

The World has Changed?

The recent tranche of terror laws passed Federal parliament with the support of both the government and the Labor party, and with almost no debate. It seems appropriate to dust off this address delivered over eight years ago...

Keynote Address to Australian Lawyers Alliance
Victorian State Conference

13 May 2006


British ships bombard Alexandria in 1883


At 7 am on 11 July 1882, the guns of the British Mediterranean fleet opened fire on the Egyptian shore batteries at Alexandria. By five that evening, most of the inhabitants of the town were streaming south towards Cairo. The British landed a force of 20,000 men under the command of General Sir Garnet Wolseley. The invading army fought a number of skirmishes, and the Battle of Tel-el-Kebir, and soon occupied Egypt, including, most importantly, the Suez Canal.

The rhetoric preceding this conquest has an eerie familiarity. In England the Egyptians were described as “terrorists” who broke all pledges and murdered innocent European civilians. It was said to be imperative to land troops to restore law and order. In Paris and London politicians began to speak of “a dangerous pan-Islamic conspiracy, a resurgence of fanatical Mohammedanism”.

In Cairo, of course, it seemed the other way round – they described themselves as surrounded and menaced by a Pan-Christian movement.

These were perilous times for Europe – the underprivileged seethed in opposition to the powerful. The previous year, on 13 March 1881, Tsar Alexander II had been assassinated by a Polish suicide bomber.

Britain also had its bombers – mostly anarchists at that time. In 1903 Joseph Conrad penned his novel The Secret Agent about anarchists in London planning to blow up the Greenwich observatory.

And yet we have this rhetoric that the world changed on 11 September. What on earth does this mean? Of course the world changed on that day, as it does on every day. But there has been no fundamental shift. 11 September saw the perpetration of a shocking crime, but it did not threaten our democracy or our traditions.

Prime Minister Howard commenting on counter-terrorism laws passed in 2005 acknowledged that while the laws were unusual, they were ‘necessary because we live in unusual times’ [1]. The logic seems to be that the ‘extraordinary’ threat of terrorism requires extraordinary measures.

But the Federal Government’s National Counter-Terrorism Alert Level remains, as it has done since before 11 September 2001, on its second lowest level – medium, which indicates “a terrorist attack could occur”. [It moved up a notch in 2014 – but for reasons which were never clearly explained.]

On 27 February 1933, the immense Reichstag (parliament) building, the focal point of Berlin’s imperial district, was set on fire and destroyed. Only the shell remained. It was a shocking act of terrorism.

In the midst of the public alarm that followed, Adolf Hitler, who had been Chancellor for less than a month, and whose coalition ministry contained only two other Nazis, went to President Hindenburg and presented him with an emergency decree, drafted by non-Nazi public servants, “for the protection of the people and the state”.

The decree abrogated basic civil rights. Hitler said that with this decree he could “try enemies of the state legally and deal with them in a way that will put an end to conspiracies.”

The Reichstag fire was also used to justify the passing of the Enabling Act which further consolidated the control of the executive over elected representatives.

These two pieces of legislation were the legal foundation for all the excesses that followed.

Here in Australia, following the 11 September attacks, both Labor and the coalition combined to pass so-called “anti-terror” laws. Not only do these laws deliver extensive new powers to security services, they remove any practical means of public scrutiny of those bodies. No other country in the world has gone as far as Australia in passing such laws.

The rule of law requires that government authority be exercised through precise written laws which avoid arbitrary application - or the rule of whim. The rule of law is intended to operate as a bulwark against tyranny. The rule of law is not served where laws are so broadly expressed that their implementation depends on the particular prejudices and agendas of those empowered to administer them. So it is often said that our so-called “Westminster system” is designed to be a rule of laws, and not of men.

The rule of law embodies many specific principles, including habeas corpus – the principle that a person denied liberty is entitled to know the charge upon which they have been arrested, and to have the lawfulness of their custody reviewed by judicial authority.

The terrorism laws passed by both Federal and State governments since 11 September 2001 are contrary to the concept of the rule of law.

These laws rest on three key planks. First, these laws brought into existence a range of ‘terrorism’ offences.[2] At the base of these offences is the wide statutory definition of a ‘terrorist act’; a concept that, at its margins, embraces certain acts of industrial action like picketing by nurses.[3] These offences travel far beyond acts like bombing and hijackings (already serious criminal offences) not only to criminalise ‘terrorist acts’ but also conduct ancillary to ‘terrorist acts’. Australia’s terror laws now define as terrorism many things that most people would not understand as terrorist crimes.
1.              Recklessly helping an organisation indirectly engage in fostering the doing of a terrorist act is now a crime. (publication of views that are favourable to a particular organization may well be enough)’
2.              Possession of a thing associated with terrorism is a crime – an incredibly vague provision.
3.              Reckless collection of documents likely to facilitate terrorist acts is a crime – how would one know if one was breaching this law?
4.              Deliberate assaults by politically motivated protesters in another country are now a terrorist crime under Australian terror laws.
5.              Violent resistance to any foreign government, regardless of the oppressive nature of the regime, is now a crime in Australia. Under our present laws, the Kurds fighting Saddam Hussein would be guilty of terrorism, and so would anyone raising money to help them. The same may be said of Fretilin in East Timor. If resistance to Mugabe becomes violent in Zimbabwe, our law will treat those opposing his regime as terrorists. Perhaps it is unlikely such people would be prosecuted, but it is contrary to the rule of law for enforcement of criminal offences to be dependent on the foreign policy of the government of the day.
6.              Under our laws, a striking worker who assaults a scab while manning a picket line against a certain government policy would be guilty of terrorism.
7.              A person who is believed to have information relating to terrorism may be detained by ASIO for questioning for 7 days, and a further warrant may be obtained for further questioning if new information comes to light - indefinitely. Only Australia has authorized detention of non-suspects in this way.

Second, powers have been conferred on the Government to ban ‘terrorist’ organisations. Part 4 of the Charter of the United Nations Act 1945 (Cth) requires the Foreign Minister to list a person or entity if satisfied, among others, that such a person or entity is involved in a ‘terrorist act’; a term that is not defined by the Act.[4] If an entity or person is listed, it is illegal to use or deal with the assets of the listed person or entity. It will also be an offence to directly or indirectly provide assets to a listed person or entity.[5]

Under the Criminal Code Act 1995 (Cth) (‘Criminal Code’), regulations can be passed listing an organisation as a ‘terrorist organisation’ if the federal Attorney-General is satisfied, on reasonable grounds, that the organisation is ‘directly or indirectly engaged in, preparing, planning, assisting in or fostering the doing of a terrorist act (whether or not the terrorist act has occurred or will occur)’.[6] Last year, the Anti-Terrorism Act (No 2) 2005 (Cth)[7] expanded this banning power to include organisations that ‘advocate’ the doing of a ‘terrorist act’. ‘Advocate’ was defined broadly to include in/directly counselling or urging the doing of a ‘terrorist act’ as well as directly praising such acts where there is a risk that such praise might lead another to engage in such acts.[8]

This proscription regime captures organisations that many would not consider ‘terrorist’ organisations. The definition of ‘terrorist organisation’ is not restricted to organisations whose principal activities are the promotion and engagement of extreme acts of ideological/religious violence. A ‘terrorist’ organisation can, for example, be an organisation which is predominantly involved in charitable work but is also indirectly involved in a ‘terrorist’ act.[9]

Once listed, a particularly far-reaching set of ‘terrorism’ offences will apply to the organisation. The ‘terrorist organisation’ offences under Criminal Code basically impose criminal liability upon the entire group and persons who engage in certain forms of association with the proscribed group. Membership of such organisations, for instance, is punishable by a maximum of ten years in prison.[10] Take another example: an aid worker providing ‘first aid’ training to a predominantly charitable organisation s/he knows has, on a few past occasions, engaged in an extreme act of ideological/political violence would clearly be committing the offence of providing training to a ‘terrorist organisation’. It is no defence to this crime that the training was not related to a ‘terrorist act’. The crime is committed so long as training, whatever its content, is received or provided to a ‘terrorist’ organisation.[11] Hence, an aid worker providing humanitarian training to movements such as Gerakan Aceh Merdeka or the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam, groups believed to have resorted to acts of ideological/political violence, in the wake of the tsunami disaster would be culpable under this offence despite having no direct involvement with such violence. Given that there is knowledge that the organisation is a ‘terrorist’ organisation, the aid worker in both scenarios presently faces the prospect of 25 years in jail.[12]

The third plank of Australia’s anti-terrorism laws are unprecedented powers conferred upon security and police organisations. Since mid-2003, the Australian Security Intelligence Organisation (‘ASIO’) has had powers to compulsorily question and detain persons suspected of having information related to a ‘terrorism’ offence. Such persons can be detained for up to a week in largely incommunicado circumstances.[13]

With the passage of the Anti-Terrorism Act (No 2) 2005 (Cth), the Australian Federal Police (AFP) acquired a new set of powers. A senior AFP officer (without the necessity of judicial warrant) can now issue a preventative detention order authorising the imprisonment of a person for up to 24 hours when there are reasonable grounds to suspect the person is engaged in various ‘terrorism’ offences and the order will substantially assist in preventing a ‘terrorist act’ and is reasonably necessary for this purpose. Such detention may be extended for another 24 hours by a current or retired judicial officer.[14]

Further, upon a request by a senior AFP officer, a control order may be issued by a court against persons not suspected of any crime. If satisfied on the balance of probabilities that the order will substantially assist in preventing a ‘terrorist act’ or the person has provided or received training from a listed ‘terrorist organisation’, the court may issue such an order if it is reasonably necessary to protect the public from a ‘terrorist act’. These orders can last up to a year and result in house arrest.[15]

The Anti-Terrorism Act (No 2) 2005 (Cth) also enacted a ‘notice-to-produce’ regime. This regime included provisions allowing the AFP to issue a notice requiring the production of documents including those disclosing financial, telephone, travel and residential details if a senior AFP officer was satisfied that such documents were relevant and would assist the investigation of ‘terrorism’ offences. Once subject to such a notice, a person must produce the documents with failure to do so punishable by a fine.[16]

The Victorian terror laws quietly passed parliament during the Commonwealth Games. This was despite a damning critique from the Privacy Commissioner, and many concerns expressed by the Scrutiny of Acts and Regulations Committee. Victoria’s 2002 legislation was due to sunset in 2006, and there was to be an inquiry that year to consider whether to extend them. The 2006 legislation removed the requirement for an inquiry and removed the sunset provisions. The new laws were more draconian that any other terror laws, permitting, for example, the detention without charge of citizens for 14 days, without court supervision. Once again the hysteria in relation to terrorism was used to sweep away long established human rights which are fundamental to our democratic system of government and the rule of law.

Under Australian anti-terrorism laws broad criminal offences are accompanied by executive power to trigger such offences. Also hinging upon these offences are coercive powers to investigate and prevent these offences. Together these planks evidence a shift from preventing terrorism in conformity with the rule of law to a model based on pre-emption.

Counter-terrorist measures were not brought into existence by these laws. Prior to the enactment of these laws, however, ‘a counter-terrorism structure (was) developed within the existing criminal justice system which treats terrorism as essentially a peace-time, criminal, matter’.[17] Being indigenous to the existing criminal justice system, the previous set of counter-terrorism measures was informed by what could be dubbed a rule of law model.[18] Various elements constitute this model. First, terrorism was to be punished by traditional criminal offences. For instance, Sir Victor Windeyer who advised the Protective Security Review emphatically rejected the enactment of ‘terrorism’ offences and said:
all forms of violent wrongdoing that are called terrorism are punishable as crimes under Commonwealth or State laws. The best safeguard against new terrors and apprehensions may lie in the rigorous enforcement of existing criminal law rather than in making new laws expressly about ‘terrorism’.[19]

Second, these criminal offences were set out in statute and typically only made illegal intentional conduct causing serious physical harm or property damage. Third, an accused was presumed innocent with the onus on the prosecution to prove its case beyond reasonable doubt. Fourth, detention being ‘penal or punitive in character’ was seen to ‘exists only as incident of the exclusively judicial function of adjudging and punishing criminal guilt’.[20] Arrest of those charged with crimes was a qualification to this notion but a heavily qualified one: those arrested were to be promptly brought before a court. Fifth, prevention of criminal activity (and not only its prosecution after the fact) was clearly a legitimate aim of policing and to that end, police were not only granted arrest powers but also investigative powers of search, questioning and interception. These powers could only be exercised with some proof of criminal activity and were typically supervised by independent authorities.

With the enactment of the post-September 11 terrorism laws, the aim of prevention has become dominant. The model then becomes of one of pre-emption. This model is pre-emptive in the sense that prevention of the risk of terrorism comes to the fore. And in preventing this risk, it is legitimate under this model to launch anticipatory strikes. The model is also pre-emptive in a different sense: prevention takes priority over other considerations whether it be the rights of the accused or the need for proper proof.

Criminal laws and police powers then become less about criminal justice, that is, bringing the accused to trial for the purpose of conviction and punishment, but rather about reducing the chance of terrorism. Not surprisingly, key elements of the rule of law model are displaced. Under the pre-emption model, not only are there ‘terrorism’ offences but some of these offences can be triggered by executive decisions. The powers to ban ‘terrorist’ groups do precisely this. The ambit of these offences also goes far beyond intentional conduct causing serious physical harm or property damage. Indeed, in many instances, in particular the offences relating to ‘terrorist organisations’, there is no need to demonstrate a nexus between the conduct of the accused and violence or damage. For example, breaching ‘(a)n important premise behind the rule of law . . . that governments should punish criminal conduct, not criminal types’,[21] the ‘terrorism’ offences provides for status crimes, most notably, by making mere membership of a ‘terrorist organisation’ an offence.[22]

Significant inroads have been also made into the presumption of innocence. Many ‘terrorism’ offences provide for strict liability elements which place the onus on the defendant to disprove a circumstance.[23] More strikingly perhaps there is now a presumption against granting bail to those charged with ‘terrorism’ offences. This presumption operates by way of statutory fiat and draws no distinction between ‘terrorism’ offences involving serious violence and those that do not. For instance, ten Melbourne men were charged with terrorism offences late last year with none of the charges alleging any violent acts or attempts to commit violent acts. Yet all have been refused bail because of their failure to demonstrate ‘exceptional circumstances’[24] and, as a result, are now in solitary confinement in Barwon Prison’s maximum-security Acacia unit.[25]

Further, detention is no longer seen as largely the function of criminal punishment. ASIO’s compulsory questioning and detention powers are ostensibly aimed at intelligence-gathering. Control orders (which may in the extreme result in house-arrests) and preventative detention orders may be issued without the need for any criminal charges, let alone proof of criminal guilt.

Broad investigative powers have also been conferred in the name of fighting ‘terror’. No longer are investigative powers restricted to situations where there is some proof of criminal conduct. ASIO’s questioning and detention powers can be exercised against persons suspected of having information relating to a ‘terrorism’ offence. A control order can be issued against a person so long as the relevant authorities are satisfied that the order will substantially assist in preventing a ‘terrorist act’ regardless of whether person subject to the order is suspected of a crime. These powers, at least, are subject to some independent oversight. This, however, is not the case with initial preventative detention powers and key aspects of the 'notice-to-produce’ regime.

By departing from many established principles of criminal law, the model of pre-emption underlying the ‘terrorism’ laws then must necessarily be seen as exceptional. Are they justified?

As Lord Hoffmann said when the House of Lords found that legislation permitting the administrative detention of foreign terrorist suspects violated human rights:
Terrorist crime, serious as it is, does not threaten our institutions of government or our existence as a civil community.

The real threat to the life of the nation, in the sense of a people living in accordance with its traditional laws and political values, comes not from terrorism but from laws such as these.

That is the true measure of what terrorism may achieve. It is for parliament to decide whether to give the terrorists such a victory.







[1] (Age 18 October 2005).
[2] Before the September 11 attacks, federal laws did not criminalise ‘terrorism’ as such. See generally Ben Golder and George Williams, “‘What is ‘Terrorism’? Problems of Legal Definition” University of New South Wales Law Journal 27(2) (2004): 271.
[3] While the definition of a ‘terrorist act’ excludes ‘industrial action’ (Criminal Code Act s 100.1), this is unlikely to afford any protection to picketing which has been found not to be ‘industrial action’ under the Workplace Relations Act 1996 (Cth): Davids Distribution Pty Ltd v National Union of Workers (1999) 165 ALR, 550, 575 per Wilcox and Cooper JJ (with whom Burchett J agreed at  586) (‘Davids’). For commentary on this case, see John Howe, “Picketing and the Statutory Definition of ‘Industrial Action’” Australian Journal of Labour Law 13 (2000): 84-91. The ruling in Davids has subsequently been applied in Auspine Ltd v CFMEU (2000) 97 IR 444; (2000) 48 AILR [4-282] and Cadbury Schweppes Pty Ltd v ALHMWU (2001) 49 AILR [4-382].
[4] Charter of the United Nations Act 1945 (Cth) s 15 and Charter of the United Nations (Terrorism and Dealings with Assets) Regulations 2002 (Cth) reg 6(1).
[5] Such conduct is not illegal if authorised by the Foreign Minister: Charter of the United Nations Act 1945 (Cth) ss 20-1.
[6] Criminal Code, s 102.1(2)(a). This power was conferred by the Criminal Code Amendment (Terrorist Organisations) Act 2004 (Cth).
[7] For a detailed analysis of the Anti-Terrorism Bill (No 2) 2005 (Cth), see Senate Legal and Constitutional Legislation Committee, Provisions of the Anti-Terrorism Bill (No. 2) 2005 (2005) and Sue Harris et al, Anti-Terrorism Bill (No. 2) 2005: Parliamentary Library Bills Digest No. 64/2005-06 (2005). For an earlier analysis of the government’s proposals, see Agnes Chong et al, Laws for Insecurity? A Report on the Federal Government’s Proposed Counter-Terrorism Measures (2005) (available at http://www.amcran.org on 26 January 2006).
[8] Criminal Code ss 102.1(1A), 102.1(2)(b). This amendment was inserted by the Anti-Terrorism Act (No 2) 2005 (Cth).
[9] Criminal Code  s 102.1.
[10] Criminal Code, s 102.3.
[11] Criminal Code s 102.5. For an excellent discussion of the training offences, see Patrick Emerton, “Paving the Way for Conviction Without Evidence – A Disturbing Trend in Australia’s ‘Anti-Terrorism’ Laws” Queensland University of Technology Law Journal 4(2) (2004): 1, 5-14.
[12] For an analysis of the constitutional issues relating to the proscription regimes, see Joo-Cheong Tham, ‘Possible Constitutional Objections to the Powers to Ban ‘Terrorist’ Organisations’ (2004) 27 University of New South Wales Law Journal 482.
[13] Division 3, Part II, Australian Security Intelligence Organization Act 1979 (Cth) (‘ASIO Act’). A recent analysis of these powers can be found in Parliamentary Joint Committee on ASIO, ASIS and DSD, ASIO’s Questioning and Detention Powers: Review of the operation, effectiveness and implications of Division 3 of Part III in the Australian Security Intelligence Organisation Act 1979 (2005). For an analysis of the constitutional issues relating to these powers, see Greg Carne, ‘Detaining Questions or Compromising Constitutionality? The ASIO Legislation Amendment (Terrorism) Act 2003’ (2004) 27(2) University of New South Wales Law Journal 524.
[14] Anti-Terrorism Act (No 2) 2005 (Cth) Schedule 4. For a thorough review of the Anti-Terrorism Bill (No 2) (Cth), see Sue Harris Rimmer et al, Anti-Terrorism Bill (No 2) 2005: Australian Parliamentary Library Bills Digest No 64/2005-6 (2005).
[15] Anti-Terrorism Act (No 2) 2005 (Cth) Schedule 4.
[16] Ibid Schedule 6.
[17] Jenny Hocking, Terror Laws: ASIO, Counter-terrorism and the Threat to Democracy (2004) 193 (emphasis added).
[18] David Cole, ‘Are We Safer’ 15, (2006) Volume LIII (4) The New York Review of Books 15, 17.
[19] Victor Windeyer, ‘Opinion on certain questions concerning the position of members of the Defence Force when called to aid the civil power’ in Justice Hope, Protective Security Review, Appendix 9, 292.
[20] Lim v Minister for Immigration, Local Government and Ethnic Affairs (1992) 176 CLR 1, 27.
[21] Bernadette McSherry, ‘Terrorism Offencesin the Criminal Code: Broadening theBoundaries of Australian Criminal Laws’ (2004) 27(2) UNSW Law Journal 354, 364.
[22] Criminal Code s 102.1.
[23] For example, section 102.5 of the Criminal Code. See generally Bernadette McSherry, ‘Terrorism Offences in the Criminal Code: Broadening the Boundaries of Australian Criminal Laws’ (2004) 27(2) UNSW Law Journal 354, 369-70; PatrickEmerton, ‘Paving the Way for Conviction Without Evidence – A Disturbing Trendin Australia’s ‘Anti-Terrorism’ Laws’ (2004) 4(2) Queensland University of Technology Law Journal 1.
[24] See Jamie Berry, ‘No bail accused terror pair’, The Age, 23-4 December 2005, 3.

Wednesday, 31 March 2010

Serendipity: Tamils and Terror Australis

The three Tamil men accused of terrorism by the AFP

Today three Tamil men walked free from the Supreme Court after defeating serious terror charges under the Criminal Code, and pleading guilty to the minor charge of providing funding to an organisation listed under the Charter of the United Nations Act.

It was an extraordinary case, and highlights the dangers in our terror laws. My own role in the case was as lead counsel for the defence, especially during the Criminal Code aspects of the trial.

Once my involvement was completed, I wrote the following article for Overland which was published today.

On 1 May 2007, the Australian Federal Police (AFP) used the Commonwealth Criminal Code to charge three prominent members of the Australian Tamil community with serious offences, including being members of a terrorist organisation, namely, the Liberation Tigers for Tamil Eelam (LTTE or Tamil Tigers). The charges carried penalties of twenty-five years jail.

The background was as follows. In February 2002, the LTTE and the government of Sri Lanka signed a ceasefire overseen by a Norwegian peace-keeping force. The situation remained fragile and there was considerable distrust on both sides, but the government no longer proscribed the LTTE as a terrorist organisation. On Boxing Day 2004, the Asian tsunami hit the coast of Sri Lanka, particularly devastating the Tamil-controlled coastline. Humanitarian aid was desperately needed but the Sri Lankan government refused to permit any foreign aid to go direct into Tamil Eelam. It decreed instead that all assistance needed go through the government, a procedure that would have caused tragic delays.

Major aid organisations defied the instructions and delivered aid directly to the LTTE, which they found to be far more efficient than the government. Indeed, in the Tamil-controlled parts of Sri Lanka, aid agencies dealt exclusively with the LTTE.

In the meantime, the Tamil community around the world began raising funds. Much of this was directed through the Tamil Rehabilitation Organisation, which had an office in Colombo and operated openly in Sri Lanka.

Seventeen days after the tsunami struck, the Sri Lankan High Commissioner in Canberra formally complained to the AFP that Tamils in Australia were raising money for tsunami aid that was being diverted to the LTTE for terrorist activities.

It remains surprising that any credence was given to the allegations. With aid of any kind only just reaching Sri Lanka, it is hard to see what evidence could underpin allegations of material funnelled to terrorist activity. In any case, the complaint was clearly made in furtherance of the conflict between the Sri Lankan government and the LTTE.

In Sri Lanka, the Tamil community constitutes a large majority in the northern part of the island, but a small minority in the country overall. Tamils are a distinct people: they are culturally different from the dominant Sinhalese, have a different heritage, speak a different language and most have a different religion. Prior to colonisation by the Portuguese and then the British, the Tamils had their own separate kingdom on the island.

The Sinhalese have a proud Buddhist tradition. The daughter of the great Indian emperor Asoka brought a shoot of the Bodhi Tree (under which the Buddha obtained enlightenment) from India to Sri Lanka, and 2500 years later it still stands – the oldest documented tree planted by humans in the world. A tooth of the Buddha, recovered from the ashes of his funeral pyre, is venerated in the Temple of the Tooth in Kandy. Most Tamils, by contrast, are Hindu.
During the colonial period, the Tamils were generally better educated and formed the backbone of the civil administration. This permitted resentments against them to grow.

Independence was granted in 1947, just as in India. But whereas India was partitioned, Sri Lanka was not. As a result, the Tamils became a permanent minority in the new nation. Racist laws against the Tamils were enacted almost immediately. Those whose families had been brought to Sri Lanka by the British during colonial times – often more than a century earlier – were deported to India, a country they and their families had never known.

To win government, a political party needed to court the majority Sinhalese vote, and a process of parties outbidding each other in the demonisation of the Tamils ensued. The measures adopted against the Tamils became increasingly discriminatory, to the point where they were effectively denied tertiary education altogether and even tuition in their own language. Politicians whipped up pogroms in which thousands died, often with the police looking on or participating, and systematic ‘disappearances’ of Tamils were common.

Tamils began a violent military insurgency in the 1970s. It included conventional warfare but also featured measures such as suicide bombing, generally directed against political leaders opposed to the Tamil cause. The Tamils sought a separate homeland, Tamil Eelam, in the north of the island – and for decades, in fact, they ruled such a homeland. The LTTE led the insurgency although there were other groupings, sometimes in alliance with the LTTE, sometimes separate.

The government of Sri Lanka has one of the worst human rights records in the world. Anyone interfering with its rule is at risk of extrajudicial murder. Many journalists and editors – even those of Sinhalese background – have been killed.

Clearly, Australia should not have permitted its resources to be diverted to assist in a civil war. Nonetheless, the AFP embarked on a multi-million-dollar spending odyssey in response to the Sri Lankan High Commissioner’s complaint, including multiple overseas trips by several officers. According to answers produced in parliament, the AFP spent no less than $5 271 706.91 on its investigation.

The Australian Attorney-General has the controversial power under the Criminal Code to list an organisation as terrorist. Both the current and previous incumbents have considered proscribing the LTTE but declined to do so, even after considering material that went well beyond evidence admissible in court. In fact, the LTTE are not proscribed in most countries around the world.

Members of the Tamil community, accordingly, thought they were entitled to deal with the LTTE – which was, after all, the de facto government of their homeland. Nonetheless – even though the Attorney-General had never listed the LTTE as a terrorist organisation, and even though at the time of the alleged offences the LTTE was not proscribed as terrorist even in Sri Lanka – the AFP set out to prosecute, under the Criminal Code, those men alleged to have sent aid to the LTTE.

The burden of the prosecution case was that the accused sent money to the LTTE (there were other allegations, but this was the central one). The prosecution said it did not matter if that money was for the purpose of charity – the Act makes no exception for such circumstances. Not surprisingly, when the charges were laid, major international aid organisations immediately feared that they too would be subject to criminal charges. After all, they had done exactly the same thing as the accused men. Privately, the authorities reassured these organisations that they would not be charged. That reassurance, of course, itself raises a serious issue about the rule of law: where a law is so broad that it is a matter for the subjective choice of police or prosecutors as to who will be charged, it can be (as it was in this case) applied selectively.

The prosecution set out to prove that the LTTE was a terrorist organisation under the Criminal Code. To do so, they had to prove that it was responsible for terrorist acts.

Normally, the foreign policy of Australia is a matter of some delicacy, but the terror laws handed power to make substantive decisions – in this case, the attitude of our country to a civil war in Sri Lanka – to police, something which no responsible government should countenance. Once the police were permitted to view that conflict through the lens of terrorism, it had a major impact on our foreign relations concerning an important issue.

To establish that the LTTE was a terrorist organisation, the prosecution sought to adduce primary evidence of violent acts in Sri Lanka, such as suicide bombings, and then call experts to opine that the acts were attributable to the LTTE. The process posed significant problems for our criminal justice system. The accused had no personal knowledge of these highly prejudicial violent events, and yet the evidence was to be led against them in a trial before a jury.

Furthermore, the government of Sri Lanka was at war with the LTTE. Every witness from Sri Lanka was in some way engaged in that war on behalf of the government. No witness statement was provided without the express approval and authority of the Sri Lankan government. All the evidence was vetted by the Sri Lankan Solicitor General, who conferred with and coached the Sri Lankan witnesses. He then claimed legal professional privilege for his discussions (since he was a witness himself).

None of the normal safeguards for a police investigation in Australia were available. It was clear that not all relevant evidence had been brought forward, as the accused and their representatives could not safely travel to Sri Lanka to gather evidence or examine the evidence relied upon by the prosecution and no documents or records could be subpoenaed.

The legal process required an Australian jury to assess the complex workings of the Sri Lankan political situation, and then pass judgement on it. They were required to assess evidence about controversial events in Sri Lanka when they had none of the cultural background normally necessary for such judgements.

As it happens, the LTTE has been listed as a terrorist organisation in Australia – not by the Attorney-General but by the then Foreign Minister, Mr Downer. The United Nations has never listed the LTTE as terrorist, but did call for the freezing of the assets of terrorists. So, using legislation to give effect to UN resolutions (The Charter of the United Nations Act), Downer listed the LTTE as an organisation that should have its assets frozen. It then became a little-known offence, carrying five years imprisonment, to make an asset available to the LTTE. This much less serious alternative charge was added some months after the three Tamils were initially charged under the Criminal Code.

In the end, after months of legal manoeuvring, which all but bankrupted the accused men, the DPP dropped the most serious charges under the Criminal Code. The accused men pleaded guilty to these lesser charges, with the final outcome on 31 March 2010 - when they all received sentences which allowed them to walk free from court.

Last year, as the civil war came to an end, Sri Lankan government troops indiscriminately shelled hundreds of thousands of Tamil civilians trapped in a small area. On 18 May, Tamil leaders, seeking to prevent further bloodshed, arranged with international mediators that they would carry white flags and give themselves up. When they did so, they were murdered in cold blood.

In fact, throughout the war’s closing stages, Sri Lankan forces extrajudicially executed many surrendering Tamils. Film showing naked Tamils with their hands and feet bound behind them being shot dead by Sri Lankan troops has been declared genuine by Philip Alston, UN Special Rapporteur on extrajudicial, summary or arbitrary executions.

General Fonseka, then commander of the Sri Lankan armed forces (and failed aspirant for the nation’s presidency), has said that his troops were ordered to kill any Tiger leaders attempting to surrender. The orders came, he said, from Defence Secretary Gotabaya Rajapaksa – the brother of the current Sri Lankan president. Both Rajapaksa (who has US citizenship) and Fonseka (who has a US green card) are currently under investigation in the US for war crimes and genocide. Shortly after he lost the presidential election, Fonseka was arrested by Sri Lankan government forces.

Now that the decades-old civil war is over, hundreds of thousands of Tamils remain behind barbed wire in unsanitary concentration camps. Many risk perilous voyages to other countries – including Australia.

Not surprisingly, there is tension in Australia between the expatriate Tamil community and the expatriate Sinhalese community. Both sides consider themselves wronged and misunderstood. For the Australian legal system to take sides in a dispute like this inevitably exacerbates those tensions. Recently, ASIO has delivered adverse security assessments in relation to some Tamil refugees – presumably because they had links with the LTTE, although the process lacks the transparency it should have in a democracy. ASIO’s value judgement as to which side of a foreign conflict should be regarded as ‘terrorist’ should not prevent Australia fulfilling its obligations under the UN Refugee Convention.

The Tamil community here has been regularly raided by security personnel. They have generally come to Australia to escape the danger in their homeland at the hands of security personnel, and the trauma occasioned by these raids cannot be overstated. The Tamil community is also acutely conscious of the humanitarian crisis affecting their people in their homeland, and yet they are disempowered in relation to supplying aid themselves.

In the end, the anti-terrorism laws that we have passed, and the large agencies which have been staffed to enforce them, have resulted in Australia taking sides with war criminals and adding to the misery of a terrible humanitarian crisis.

We expect more than this from our governments.

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