providing training to movements such as Gerakan Aceh Merdeka or the Tamil. Liberation ... Questions or Compromising Constitutionality? The ASIO .... some of their British counterparts, defend the Palestinian Islamic Jihad's bombings as.
Melbourne Law School
Legal Studies Research Paper No. 391 Australian terror laws and academic freedom
Joo-Cheong Tham This paper can be downloaded without charge from the Social Science Research Network Electronic Library at: http://ssrn.com
Electronic copy available at: http://ssrn.com/abstract=1397443
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Australian terror laws and academic freedom By Joo-Cheong Tham, Law Faculty, University of Melbourne Introduction In Australia, the domestic ‘War on Terror’ has been waged through a multitude of laws with at least 26 separate pieces of anti-terrorism laws passed since the September 11 attacks.1 More disturbing than the pace of legislative enactment is the character of the laws passed. These laws mean that Australian security and police agencies now have the power to detain without trial. Broad discretion has also been conferred upon the government to ban so-called ‘terrorist organisations’. These laws also cloak the operations of police and security organisations with greater secrecy, criminalise speech and heighten the risk of political and religious persecution. It is these features of the ‘War on Terror’ that particularly threaten academic freedom in Australia.
Australian anti-terrorism laws Before examining the impact of secrecy, criminalisation of speech and an increased risk of persecution on academic freedom, it is useful to sketch the key features of Australia’s post-September 11 terrorism laws.2
These laws rest on three key planks. First, these laws brought into existence a range of ‘terrorism’ offences.3 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
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See list published on the federal Attorney-General’s website (http://www.ag.gov.au). For analysis of these laws prior to the 2005 changes, see Michael Head, ‘“Counter-Terrorism” Laws: A Threat to Political Freedom, Civil Liberties and Constitutional Rights’ (2002) 26 Melbourne University Law Review 666; Greg Carne, ‘Terror and the Ambit Claim: Security Legislation Amendment (Terrorism) Act 2002 (Cth)’ (2003) 14 Public Law Review 13; Jenny Hocking, ‘CounterTerrorism and the Criminalisation of Politics: Australia’s New Security Powers of Detention, Proscription and Control’ (2003) 49(3) Australian Journal of Politics and History 355-71; Jenny Hocking, Terror Laws: ASIO, Counter-Terrorism and the Threat to Democracy (2004) ch 11; Jenny Hocking, ‘Protecting Democracy by Preserving Justice: ‘Even for the Feared and the Hated’ (2004) 27(2) University of New South Wales Law Journal 319. 3 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’ (2004) 27(2) University of New South Wales Law Journal 271. 2
Electronic copy available at: http://ssrn.com/abstract=1397443
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like picketing by nurses.4 These offences travel far beyond acts like bombing and hijackings to not only criminalise ‘terrorist acts’ but also conduct ancillary to ‘terrorist acts’. For example, a ‘terrorism’ offence is committed by merely possessing a thing that is connected with the preparation for, engagement in or assistance in a ‘terrorist act’.5
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.6 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.7
Under the Criminal Code Act 1995 (Cth) (‘Criminal Code’), regulations can be passed listing an organisation as a ‘terrorist organisation’ if the federal AttorneyGeneral 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)’.8 Last year, the Anti-Terrorism Act (No 2) 2005 (Cth)9 expanded this banning power to include 4 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’’ (2000) 13 Australian Journal of Labour Law 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]. 5 Criminal Code, s 101.4. For an analysis of the ‘terrorism’ offences, see Bernadette McSherry, ‘Terrorism offences in the Criminal Code: Broadening the Boundaries of Australian Criminal Laws’ (2004) 27(2) University of New South Wales Law Journal 354. 6 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). 7 Such conduct is not illegal if authorised by the Foreign Minister: Charter of the United Nations Act 1945 (Cth) ss 20-1. 8 Criminal Code, s 102.1(2)(a). This power was conferred by the Criminal Code Amendment (Terrorist Organisations) Act 2004 (Cth). 9 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
Electronic copy available at: http://ssrn.com/abstract=1397443
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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.10
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.11 Once listed, a particular 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.12 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 be related to a ‘terrorist act’. The crime is committed so long as training, whatever its content, is received or provided to a ‘terrorist’ organisation.13 Hence, an aid worker providing training to movements such as Gerakan Aceh Merdeka or the Tamil Liberation Tigers, groups known to have resorted to acts of ideological/political violence, in the wake of the tsunami disaster would definitely be culpable under this offence despite having no direct involvement with such violence. Given that there is (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). 10 Criminal Code ss 102.1(1A), 102.1(2)(b). This amendment was inserted by the Anti-Terrorism Act (No 2) 2005 (Cth). 11 Criminal Code s 102.1. 12 Criminal Code, s 102.3. 13 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 ‘AntiTerrorism’ Laws’ (2004) 4(2) Queensland University of Technology Law Journal 1, 5-14.
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knowledge that the organisation is a ‘terrorist’ organisation, the aid worker in both scenarios presently faces the prospect of 25 years in jail.14
The third plank of Australia’s anti-terrorism laws are unprecedented coercive 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.15
With the passage of the Anti-Terrorism Act (No 2) 2005 (Cth) late last year, the Australian Federal Police (‘AFP’) acquired a new set of powers. A senior AFP officer 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 judicial officer.16
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
14 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. 15 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. 16 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).
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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.17
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.18 Under Australian anti-terrorism laws then 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. Each of these planks poses threats to academic freedom.
Hindering academic inquiry through secrecy Laws granting security and police organisations additional power often provide these authorities with the ability to cloak the exercise of such power in secrecy. For instance, a preventative detention order may, in some circumstances, be accompanied by a prohibited contact order banning the detainee from disclosing details of the order.19 The ‘notice to produce’ regime, on the other hand, provides the AFP virtually unrestricted ability to conceal the existence and contents of such notices. If an issued notice states that information about it must not be disclosed, it is then punishable by up to two years’ jail to disclose such information. The AFP has unfettered discretion whether or not to require non-disclosure. There is no statutory requirement it needs to be satisfied of. Neither does it need to demonstrate the need for non-disclosure to an independent authority. This means a 17 18
Anti-Terrorism Act (No 2) 2005 (Cth) Schedule 4. Ibid Schedule 6.
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person subject to a ‘notice to produce’ could be prohibited from disclosing details about this notice indefinitely simply by virtue of the untested belief of an AFP officer.20 In essence, this regime allows the AFP to maintain secret dossiers on ‘terrorism’ suspects, for instance, aid workers who provide training to Gerakan Aceh Merdeka. This wall of secrecy is clearly anathema to public and academic scrutiny. Arguably, the most egregious example of secrecy provisions are those that apply to ASIO’s detention and questioning powers. These provisions generally make it illegal to disclose information relating to ASIO’s conduct in detaining and questioning persons while a warrant is in force. Even more significantly, for two years after the expiry of such a warrant, it will generally be an offence to disclose information related to the warrant which is ‘operational information’. The term ‘operational information’ is broadly defined to cover information possessed by ASIO, its sources of information and any ‘operational capability, method or plan’. In effect, ‘operational information’ is defined to mean information relating to ASIO’s knowledge and activities. The legislation goes further by imposing strict liability on detainees or lawyers that disclose ‘operational information’. Lawyers and detainees can be criminally liable even if they disclose ‘operational information’ inadvertently or disclose information they were unaware was ‘operational information’. The maximum penalty for committing any of these offences is five years in prison.21 In 1993, Professor Paddy Hillyard published a book titled Suspect Community: People’s Experience of Terrorism Acts in Britain. The focus of the book is on the experiences of those examined, arrested and detained under UK anti-terrorism laws. A similar study of the operations of the ASIO detention and questioning regime could not be undertaken in Australia given that detainees would not be able to relate their experiences of being detained for up to two years after their detention. Such a delay would almost certainly render such a study logistically impossible. It would also make any study that could be undertaken less relevant politically and less newsworthy as 19
Criminal Code ss 105.14A-105.16. Crimes Act s 3ZQT. 21 Australian Security Intelligence Organisation Act 1979 (Cth) s 34VAA. For analysis of these provisions, see Greg Carne, ‘Brigitte and the French Connection: Security Carte Blanche or A La Carte?’ (2004) 26 Deakin Law Review page reference; Michael Head, ‘Another Threat to Democratic Rights: ASIO detentions cloaked in secrecy’ (2004) 29 Alternative Law Journal 127; Joo-Cheong 20
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the information and analysis would be largely of historical rather than contemporary interest. This scenario is far from hypothetical as Australian academics have already undertaken some work on the role of ASIO since the September-11 attacks. In a refereed journal article ‘Bin Laden in the Suburbs’: Attacks on Arab and Muslim Australians before and after 11 September, Associate Professor Scott Poynting describes a number of raids conducted by ASIO and the AFP in 2001 against Lebanese Muslims living in Sydney. He concludes that the raids were ‘clearly meant to be a public gesture . . . designed to intimidate’.22 Associate Professor Poynting acknowledges the source of the information on the raids as interviews with the families raided. The new ASIO laws will have a tremendous chilling effect on undertaking such interviews. Given that ASIO’s investigatory operations in this context would have very likely involved the use of its compulsory questioning and detention powers, such interviews might very well be illegal because they disclose ‘operational information’. In the middle of 2005, ASIO and the AFP raided various houses in Melbourne and Sydney, it seems, for the purpose of ‘rattling the cages’.23 In some instances, these raids were preceded by the use of the ASIO’s questioning powers. As a consequence, neither those raided nor their legal representatives could publicly speak of the raids or their forced questioning despite the raids being publicly broadcast on national television. An academic wanting to legally conduct interviews with those raided in Melbourne and Sydney will have to wait until 2007. A time delay of this magnitude creates so many logistical difficulties for researchers and others wishing to document such events that eyewitness first-hand accounts will be next to impossible to obtain. The lack of eyewitness and first-hand accounts of much of ASIO’s activities will mean that academic research in this area is severely hampered.24
Tham, ‘Casualties of the Domestic ‘War on Terror’: A Review of Recent Counter-Terrorism Laws’ (2004) 28(2) Melbourne University Law Review 512, 514-8, 523-8. 22 (2002: 58). 23 A unnamed senior AFP officer quoted in Brendan Nicholson, John Silvester and Selma Milovanovic, ‘ASIO raids aim to spook suspected extremists’, The Age, 28 June 2005, 3.
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Criminalising speech Academic freedom in Australia has also taken a blow through the criminalisation of speech. The secrecy provisions applying to exceptional investigative powers clearly target discussion of these powers. The ‘terrorist organisation’ offences which impose guilt by association also make illegal some types of speech. For instance, an academic providing a seminar to officials of the Kurdish Workers’ Party, a banned ‘terrorist organisation’25 would, arguably, be committing a training offence. This will be the case even if the seminar was devoted to the European Union rules governing Turkey’s possible membership of the EU. The crime of ‘associating’ with a ‘terrorist organisation’ also has implications for free speech. This offence is typically committed when a person meets or communicates with members of a proscribed ‘terrorist organisation’ with the intention of supporting the organisation to expand or continue to exist.26 Australian philosophers, who like some of their British counterparts, defend the Palestinian Islamic Jihad’s bombings as a form of legitimate resistance in published refereed articles27 would, arguably, be committing an ‘association’ offence. The publication of these articles is a form of communication to the world-at-large including members of Palestinian Islamic Jihad that arguably intends to support the organisation by defending some of its tactics. Part of the suite of criminal of offences enacted late last year were a range of sedition offences. These offences criminalise various forms of advocacy with most requiring that a person urges the use of force or violence.28 There is, however, no such requirement with two of the sedition offences. With no required nexus between speech and violence, these offences make it a crime to intentionally urge another person to engage in conduct that will assist an organisation or country at war with Australia or engaged in armed hostilities against the Australian Defence Force.29 For
24 For more detailed discussion of these secrecy offences, see Jude McCulloch and Joo-Cheong Tham, 'Secret State, Transparent Subject: The Australian Security Intelligence Organisation in the Age of Terror' (2005) 38 (3) Australian and New Zealand Journal of Criminology 400-15. 25 Criminal Code Regulations 2002 (Cth). 26 Criminal Code s 102.8(1)-(2). There are exceptions to this offence, for instance, association with a close family member, that are not presently relevant: ibid s 102.8(4). 27 An example given by Ben Saul in relation to sedition offences: Brendan O’Keefe, ‘Freedom of incarceration’, The Australian, 2 November 2005, 33. 28 Criminal Code ss 80.2(1)-(6). 29 Ibid ss 80.2(7)-(8).
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instance, academics calling on Arab countries to assist the Iraqi insurgents engaged in armed hostilities with occupying forces (which include the Australian Defence Force) in seeking a cease-fire will likely be committing a sedition offence unless they can prove a ‘good faith’ defence.30
Increased risk of religious and political persecution Two features of the ‘terrorism’ powers conferred upon Australian security and police agencies increase the risk of religious and political persecution. First, many of these powers can be exercised upon an undemanding standard of proof. For instance, the criteria for the issuing of control orders are satisfied on the balance of probabilities.31 Similarly, preventative detention orders can be made with there are reasonable grounds for suspicion of various matters.32 A relaxed standard of proof also results from the fact that the AFP does not need to satisfy an independent authority before the exercise of some of its coercive powers. For example, initial preventative detention orders and ‘notices to produce’ can be issued by a senior AFP officer.33 Second, these powers hinge upon ‘terrorism’ offences which depend upon a person’s political and/or religious motivation. A ‘terrorist act’ is an act done ‘with the intention of advancing a political, religious or ideological cause’ that results in serious physical harm or serious property damage.34 A relaxed standard of proof operating upon these offences poses the danger that evidence of a person’s political or religious beliefs alone would suffice for exercise of coercive power. If so, this raises the spectre of thought-crimes. This danger is possibly heightened by the centrality of ASIO in the Australia’s ‘War on Terror’ and its history of suppressing political dissent.35 The latest major review of ASIO’s operations, for instance, found that ‘in the past, ASIO officers have shown a tendency to think of anyone they chose to call “left wing” as subversive’.36 Such 30
Ibid s 80.3. There is also the exception for providing aid of a humanitarian nature: ibid s80.2(9). Criminal Code ss 104.4, 104.14 (control orders) 32 Ibid s 105.4. 33 Ibid s 105.7 (initial preventative detention orders); Crimes Act s 3ZQN (notice to produce). 34 Criminal Code s 100.1. 35 See generally Frank Cain, The Australian Security Intelligence Organisation: An Unofficial History (1994) and Frank Cain, ‘Australian Intelligence Organisations and the Law: A Brief History’ (2004) 27 University of New South Wales Law Journal 296. 36 Royal Commission on Intelligence and Security, above n 63, 130. 31
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tendencies might not have entirely faded into history. In ASIO 200/2001 Annual Report, a photo of Usama bin Laden was followed two pages later by photos of the Melbourne anti-globalisation protest at World Economic Forum in September 2000 captured under the heading ‘Threat from local politically motivated violence’.37 The focus on ‘home-grown’ terrorists after the London bombings might also increase the risk of domestic dissent being policed. One likely target are groups opposed to the invasion of Iraq. The case of Hizb-ut-Tahrir (‘HUT’), an Islamic group operating in Melbourne and Sydney, is instructive. In late August last year, the federal government actively considered listing HUT as a ‘terrorist organisation’ under the Criminal Code after a similarly-named organisation was banned in the United Kingdom. It did not do so because it could not find any evidence that HUT planning, fostering or preparing a ‘terrorist act’. The Attorney-General, however, publicly stated that this organisation was still being monitored because of its position that those living in occupied lands, including Iraq, have the right and duty to resist occupation.38 It appears that it was the government’s inability to proscribe groups that HUT that prompted it to expand the proscription power to include organisations that ‘advocate’ a ‘terrorist act’.39 With the passage of the Anti-Terrorism Act (No 2) 2005 (Cth), groups that urge armed resistance to the Iraqi occupying forces are now liable for proscription. All this suggests that opposition to the invasion of Iraq will be the subject of increased policing and surveillance. Such opposition, of course, will not the sole target. For example, the Kurdish Workers Party (‘PKK’) was listed as a ‘terrorist organisation’ under the Criminal Code late last year, scarcely a week after the visit to Australia by Recep Erdoğan, Prime Minister of the Republic of Turkey.40 Such listing will impact upon the thousands of Australian
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Australian Security Intelligence Organisation, Report to Parliament: 2000-2001 (2001) 17. See Ruddock plans expanded anti-terror laws, AAP, 30 August 2005. Available online: http://www.theage.com.au/news/world/ruddock-plans-expanded-antiterrorlaws/2005/08/30/1125302541269.html at 18 September 2005. 39 See text accompanying n 10. 40 Attorney-General Philip Ruddock, ‘PKK listed as Terrorist Organisation’ (Press Release, 15 December 2005). See also Prime Minister John Howard’s address to the parliamentary luncheon in honour of the visit to Australia by Prime Minister Recep Erdogan (available at http://www.pm.gov.au/news/speeches/speech1719.html on 19 January 2006). 38
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Kurds41 including those who were granted asylum on the basis of the persecution due to their PKK sympathies.42 The increased danger of religious and political persecution has already been felt in Australian universities. In July last year, an Anglo-Saxon, Australian-born Muslim convert by the name of Abraham was quizzed by AFP officers after borrowing and purchasing books on martyrdom and terrorism. It turned out that Abraham was studying a terrorism studies course at Monash University together 200 other students who apparently were not questioned by the AFP. After media coverage, the AFP publicly confirmed that Abraham did not pose a security threat.43 Actions like these may have a dangerous ‘chilling effect’ on academic freedom.
Concluding thoughts In a recent speech, federal Attorney-General Philip Ruddock observed that ‘(t)errorism is arguably the greatest threat this nation has faced in many decades, and perhaps the most insidious and complex threat we have ever faced’.44 It is perhaps because a significant majority of Australians share this view that many are willing to contemplate fairly draconian measures. A recent poll, for instance, found a majority of survey respondents supporting detention without trial of terrorist suspects for up to three months.45 The logic seems to be that the ‘extraordinary’ threat of terrorism requires extraordinary measures. As former federal Attorney-General, Daryl Williams acknowledged with the introduction of the first tranche of anti-terrorism laws, ‘(t)hese measures are extraordinary, but so too is the evil at which they are directed.46 So it is there are now broad-ranging ‘terrorism’ offences that impose guilt by association with 41
For numbers of Australian Kurds, see Australian Bureau of Statistics, 2001 Census: Ancestry – First and Second General Australians: Census Paper No 03/01a (2003). 42 See, for example, Re N05/50976 [2005] RRTA 214 (unreported, Refugee Review Tribunal, Tribunal Member McIntosh, 26 July 2005) (emphasis added) (available at http://www.austlii.edu.au/au/cases/cth/RRTA/2005/214.html on 19 January 2005). 43 Clay Lucas, ‘University books make students people of interest’, The Age, 27 July 2005; Louise Perry, ‘Police quiz university student over research’, The Australian, 26 July 2006. 44
Attorney-General Philip Ruddock, ‘A safe and secure Australia: An update on counter-terrorism’ (Speech delivered Manly Pacific Hotel, Manly, Sydney, 21 January 2006) 23 (website address? 45 Michelle Grattan, ‘War in Iraq raised terror risk, say 66%’, The Age, 3 August 2005, 1. 46 Commonwealth of Australia, Parliamentary Debates, 21 March 2002, 1932 (Daryl Williams MP, Attorney-General).
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clandestine and unprecedented security powers. These laws which result in greater secrecy, criminalisation of speech and an increased risk of political and religious persecution clearly threaten the freedom of academic inquiry and discussion. If academic freedom is under siege by a ‘War on Terror’ supported by the majority of Australians, two things seem to follow. First, a defence of academic freedom needs to be grounded upon a broader affirmation of openness, democracy and freedom of speech and religion in the ‘War on Terror’. Second, the key challenge in defending academic freedom is probably winding back the public’s support for draconian measures. In meeting this challenge, it is especially useful to remember Raimond Gaita’s warning that: Terrorists threaten our lives. They do not threaten the values that we hold dear. Only we do that.47
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Raimond Gaita, ‘Don’t let terrorism win’, The Age, 2 August 2005, 13.
