War Hero in the Crosshairs

They slapped the cuffs on in broad daylight. Cameras rolling. Narrative locked in. Verdict already implied.

And just like that, a decorated soldier was paraded before the public as something far darker than the man his country once honoured. Ben Roberts-Smith has been arrested over alleged war crimes in Afghanistan. Alleged. That word still matters, or at least it used to. Because in modern Australia, the presumption of innocence now comes with an asterisk, a media disclaimer, and a decade-long character assassination.

Let’s not pretend this began today. For years, Nine Entertainment and its mastheads, The Sydney Morning Herald and The Age, have waged a relentless campaign branding him a war criminal. They pushed it so persistently that, thanks to a civil defamation loss, they can now effectively say it without consequence, despite no criminal conviction, no jury verdict, and no finding beyond reasonable doubt. That alone should trouble anyone who still believes in the rule of law.

But it gets worse. While presenting themselves as fearless truth-tellers, Nine quietly paid $700,000 to a key witness connected to the case, money wrapped in a confidentiality agreement they fought to suppress for half a century. That is not journalism. That is damage control dressed up as public interest. If the case is as strong as claimed, why the need to silence a witness with a cheque and a legal gag?

Strip away the headlines and you are left with something astonishing. Investigators themselves admit they do not have access to crime scenes, bodies, post-mortems, forensic evidence, confirmed causes of death, or weapons tied to alleged incidents. Australian Office of the Special Investigator director Ross Barnett said it plainly:

“We don't have access to the crime scenes. We don't have photographs, site plans, measurements, the recovery of projectiles, blood spatter. We don't have access to the deceased. There's no post mortem report, there's no official cause of death, there's no recovery of projectiles to link to weapons that might have been carried by members of the ADF.”

And yet here we are after ten years and $300 million, watching a prosecution proceed anyway. Fifty-three investigations launched, thirty-nine abandoned, and ten still ongoing. One additional charge laid. That is the scoreboard after a decade of effort and extraordinary taxpayer expense. At what point does due process become an exercise in justifying sunk costs rather than pursuing clear and provable wrongdoing?

The loudest voices condemning Roberts-Smith have one thing in common. Distance. Distance from the battlefield, from the decisions made in seconds, and from the consequences that follow. The war in Afghanistan was not a controlled environment with neat rules and tidy outcomes. It was an insurgency where the enemy did not wear uniforms, where civilians could become combatants overnight, and where trust could be weaponised.

Citizen journalist Drew Pavlou’s account of the 2012 insider attack is a sobering reminder of that reality:

“On the night of August 29th, 2012 a Taliban sleeper agent in the Afghan National Army massacred three Australian soldiers in cold blood as they prepared to sleep on their own base... Out of the 41 Australians who died in Afghanistan, 7 died by way of these insider attacks.”

And the uncomfortable truth sits right there in his conclusion: “The Taliban fought by blending into the civilian population.” That was the battlefield. That was the enemy.

Former Prime Minister Tony Abbott captured the absurdity of this disconnect when he said, “it’s wrong to judge the actions of men in mortal combat by the standards of ordinary civilian life.” He also asked the question no one in authority seems willing to answer: “If Ben Roberts-Smith transgressed, why wasn’t this picked up prior to his gallantry awards… and dealt with quickly, rather than being allowed to fester… for over a decade?”

Former Deputy Prime Minister Michael McCormack drove the point home even harder, warning, “nobody who hasn’t worn a uniform, nobody who hasn’t been sent to war probably really understands what he has gone through.” He added, “we should hold judgement until proper authorities have their say.” And then came the broader warning that Canberra would rather ignore: “what does this say to our ability to then recruit others to go and serve their nation?”

Senator Pauline Hanson did not mince words. “I remain steadfast in my support of Ben Roberts-Smith despite news of his arrest today… I will not abandon him like so many other politicians.” She highlighted the spectacle and the cost, stating, “Ben was disgracefully arrested in front of his twin 15 year old girls… AFP and OSI have spent $300 million dollars over 10 years to get to this point.”

Nationals MP Pat Conaghan brought it back to lived experience, saying, “decisions need to be made in a split second.” He then asked the question that goes to the heart of accountability: “where are those who were in charge at the time of the allegations… and not facing the scrutiny of their apparent failures?”

North Queensland MP Bob Katter, never one for understatement, put it bluntly: “HOW DARE YOU!!! HOW DARE YOU, SPEND $300 MILLION TAXPAYER DOLLARS ON SOME WITCH-HUNT!!!” It is raw, it is loud, and it reflects a frustration that is no longer confined to the fringes.

If Roberts-Smith is guilty, then what of those who sent him? Politicians authorised the war, military leaders designed the operations, and rules of engagement were crafted in offices far removed from the realities on the ground. Yet none of them are in the dock. Accountability, it seems, is something reserved for those at the bottom of the chain.

There is a difference between justice and theatre. Justice is grounded in evidence, delivered in a timely manner, and applied consistently. What we are witnessing looks increasingly like something else. A man tried in the court of public opinion long before any criminal verdict, a case proceeding despite acknowledged evidentiary gaps, and a process that risks becoming the punishment itself.

Even those who believe that any alleged wrongdoing must be investigated should pause here. Because if this is the new standard, then no soldier is beyond retrospective scrutiny based on incomplete evidence and shifting narratives. That is a precedent with consequences far beyond one individual case.

This is not ultimately about one man. It is about whether a nation stands by those it sends to war or distances itself when it becomes politically expedient. You cannot train men for violence, deploy them into chaos, honour them for doing their duty, and then express outrage at the very nature of the environment you placed them in. That is not justice by any stretch of the imagination.

“War does not determine who is right, only who is left.”
– Bertrand Russell