In June 2023, I wrote a post about the then recent finding in what had been dubbed the “Defamation Trial of the Century”: Ben Roberts-Smith vs. Fairfaix Media Pty. Ltd. For those who need a refresh, Ben Roberts-Smith VC MG was a former corporal in the Australian Special Forces, who was accused in investigative reporting by Fairfax media of committing war crimes while deployed in Afghanistan. He denied the allegations and commenced defamation proceedings in 2018 (with a combination of COVID, sensitive evidence and sheer bad luck stretching the trial out long past its expected finish date), before it was found that the reporting was true and “on the balance of probabilities” Ben Roberts-Smith was a war criminal.
In February 2024, Mr. Roberts-Smith launched an appeal against these findings. He maintains his innocence, and still appears in the paper from time to time. No criminal charges have been laid. The Australian Federal Police announced in March 2023 that their own investigation into alleged war crimes by Roberts-Smith had collapsed, although the work of the Office of the Special Investigator, the agency set up to investigate and potentially prosecute war crimes by current and former Australian military personnel, remains ongoing. Their investigation into Roberts-Smith is still active, as evidenced by their recent request for documents from the failed defamation proceedings, although there has been no public announcement on their next actions. Whatever does happen next, Mr. Roberts-Smith will be allowed to defend himself, in a court of law, with the benefit of top-notch legal representation, although it remains to be seen if Kerry Stokes will once again foot his legal bills. It is estimated that the defamation action cost Mr. Roberts-Smith somewhere in the realm of $10,000,000, and squabbles about who is liable to pay are ongoing.
Since writing that post, I have read the books written by the journalists who first reported on the alleged conduct of Mr. Roberts-Smith: “Crossing the Line” by Nick McKenzie and “Flawed Hero: Truth, Lies and War Crimes” by Chris Masters. I’m also currently reading Chris Masters’ book “No Front Line” about the Australian Special Forces in Afghanistan. I am a military historian, but my expertise is in colonial Australia, from Captain Cook’s initial contact in 1770 until Federation in 1901. I don’t claim to have any kind of expert knowledge on modern conflict, nor on Afghanistan itself, although I don’t think one needs to be an expert to conclude that kicking a handcuffed man off a cliff, shooting bound detainees, and drinking out of a prosthetic leg taken from a dead body (crimes that Roberts-Smith is alleged to have committed) is wrong.
Which brings me to the subject I really wanted to discuss today: medals, specifically, the ongoing debate about whether Roberts-Smith should be allowed to keep his Victoria Cross and Medal for Gallantry. He received both decorations for separate actions in Afghanistan, neither of which were later connected to allegations of war crimes and there has been heated debate ever since about whether or not he deserves them. Since reading “Crossing the Line” and “Flawed Hero,” as well as following the extensive media coverage, nothing I have seen or read has caused me to have a change of heart since I posted “Who Doesn’t Love A Good Lie?” I remain convinced that Roberts-Smith should be stripped of his medals.
As Masters says in the appendix of “Flawed Hero,” the military honours and awards process “is no exact science,” and this is a sentiment I agree with. During the defamation trial, a witness for Fairfax (who appeared very reluctantly under subpoena) who was present at the action where Roberts-Smith was awarded his VC was not so concerned about the awarding of the medal, but about the politicisation of the action in the aftermath. He didn’t like the way it was used, something which (according to Masters in his book) is a common annoyance for decorated soldiers.
While some military personnel are accused of ‘gong hunting’ (i.e. deliberately putting themselves in dangerous situations in the hope of winning an award), winning a gallantry award can often be an awkward experience for a soldier. By the very nature of their job, they are obliged to place themselves in situations where a bad day at work could mean death or dismemberment, and they very rarely act alone in these types of situations, but as part of a team. While commendations can (and are) bestowed on teams and regiments, gallantry awards go to individuals; when an individual was part of a team, this can cause discord, but it can also be frustrating for the recipient of the decoration. They’re often proclaimed to be “so modest” when they insist that they were “just doing my job,” but what if we, as civilians, actually took the time to listen to them?
We expect our soldiers to do things we ourselves would never be capable of. Killing people is part of the job description, as is daily putting their lives on the line, and this is true for combatant and non-combatant personnel. Outside of emergency services, there are very few occupations in which this is expected and it seems right therefore, to us sitting at home, to reward soldiers for performing these tasks, especially in deadly or dangerous situations. But are they really being modest when they say “I was just doing my job,” or are they trying to tell us that they’d rather less fuss? I am certainly not in favour of abolishing military medals and honours, but the high risk of politicisation, as happened when Roberts-Smith was awarded his VC, means awards should be treated with caution. Because, while the award itself is given for a specific event or act, it suggests character and esteem beyond what is possessed by ordinary people, or even by other soldiers who are not so decorated. This argument was used by Roberts-Smith’s attorney’s at his trial: how could a man who has been awarded a VC possibly be a war criminal?
And right there is the rub, and the reason I think Roberts-Smith (and, for that matter, anyone else who is found to have committed war crimes) should be stripped of his medals. There is no denying Roberts-Smith acted with incredible bravery on the day he won his VC, but it then became a protective shield which, within the highly secretive and selective ranks of the SAS, prevented proper scrutiny being carried out. The medal became a measure of the man, and the assumption that war criminals don’t win gallantry medals meant that the Australian people only found out about the terrible crimes some personnel allegedly committed because of the actions of other soldiers who were forced to take their concerns to the media, because their own chain-of-command, who has much to answer for in this whole saga, took little or no action. Many of the soldiers currently known to be under investigation by either the AFP or the OSI are men who have been decorated for gallantry, and more than half served with the SAS, and none are being investigated for actions which took place during the heat of a fight, or while they were under fire. Instead, the crimes they are alleged to have committed happened after the gunfights were over, the rockets had stopped firing, and the compounds had been cleared. They are alleged to have harmed and/or murdered civilians, who had no links to the insurgency, some of whom were restrained when killed or maimed. That is not gallantry in anybody’s book.
Of course, it could be argued that people are nuanced and soldiers who behave reprehensively in one area are also capable of behaving gallantly in another. This is true, but it’s what got us into this problem in the first place; we couldn’t see the nuance behind the medal. We couldn’t (or perhaps wouldn’t) accept that medals are awards for actions, they’re not character references. Until we can make that clear distinction, no war criminal should be able to pin them to their chest.
In the appendix of “Flawed Hero”, Chris Masters argues that the awarding and stripping of medals is not “territory in which outsiders should presume expertise.” I’m probably one of those outsiders that Mr. Masters thinks should keep their opinions about medals to themselves, and I don’t claim to be an expert, but I respectfully disagree. The Australian Defense Force went to Afghanistan in the name of the Australian people. Whether you agree with the campaign or not, that is a fact, and the Australian people deserve to be reassured that their soldiers are acting ethically and abiding by the rules of engagement, and we have the right to end that representation if the soldier breaks those rules. As an Australian, I am furious and disgusted that a man who allegedly murdered innocent Afghans is walking around with a Victoria Cross and a Medal for Gallantry to his name: he’s a disgrace to the ADF, a disgrace to this country, and a disgrace to our proffered value of “a fair go.” He was brave, but that doesn’t undo the heinous actions he undertook, believing his VC would protect him for any consequences.
And, let’s face it, if it hadn’t been for Samantha Crompverts (very much the unsung hero of this story) scratching the surface of war crimes, the soldiers who braved leaking to the media because their officers were prepared to look the other way, and the Afghan people who took on their occupiers, it probably would have done just that.
Ben Roberts-Smith should be stripped of his medals, period. And while we’re examining our consciences, we might think about why we need to politicise such awards in the first place.