Speech to the Bali Bombings Tenth Anniversary Memorial Service
Ms. Julia Gillard makes an emotional address at the Bali Memorial
Your loss is not forgotten
Today, we gather to commemorate the worst terrorist attack our
nation has ever known.
88 Australians died
here. And they did not die alone.
38 Indonesians died with them.
In all, 202 lives were lost
and more than 200 were injured.
The bodies of the dead and the
living bore wounds more often seen in wartime.
But these were not soldiers.
Our fellow Australians – those
lost, those hurt – were doing nothing more than seeking a few carefree days
amid full and busy lives.
They had come to a place loved
for its sunshine and uncomplicated joy.
A place, like London and
Gallipoli, where something of the Australian spirit dwells upon another shore.
This is what the Bali bombers
struck at here.
On September 11, terrorists
attacked the great symbols of American prestige.
Here in Bali, they attacked
our people and through them, sought to overwhelm our values.
Here on these bustling
streets, they inflicted searing pain and grief that will never end.
But even as the debris fell,
it was obvious the attack on our sense of ourselves – as Australians, as human
beings - had failed.
Rescuers ran towards the
terror.
Volunteers extended their
hands by the hundred, Indonesians and Australian alike.
A remarkable medical rescue
effort swung into place.
A thorough policing effort
methodically dismantled the terrorist network responsible.
And our two countries drew
closer than we ever had before.
Amid the horror, it was a time
for heroes. Like Peter Hughes and Jason McCartney, victims who became
rescuers.
Like the Sanglah Hospital
staff who provided frontline care in those first critical hours.
Or Len Notaras, Fiona Wood and
their colleagues who were angels of healing back at home.
It was a time for leaders too.
President Megawati and then
Minister Yudhoyono were quick to embrace international cooperation and a
decisive security response.
Prime Minister Howard was a
steadfast, reassuring voice for Australians in those dramatic days, and it is
very fitting that he is here today.
Police Inspector General
Pastika and Commissioner Keelty gave us confidence that justice would be done.
Ten years later and we witness
today another sort of courage: the courage it has taken for the survivors and
families to make this pilgrimage.
The physical journey by plane
has been easy but the inner journey is wrenchingly hard.
This is a day of contesting
emotions, from anger and unamended loss to forgiveness and reconciliation with
a bitter past.
Wounds and scars abound,
healed and unhealed.
But nothing can replace the
empty seat at your family table.
The graduations and
christenings you will never know.
And the fault line that will
always divide your lives into two halves: “before” and “after” Bali.
There are, at least, some
fragments of comfort on this day of recollection and return.
There is peace in this island,
and the knowledge that millions still come here for the same reasons you and
your loved ones did.
And perhaps there is a grim
reassurance in knowing that the terrorists did not achieve what they set out to
do.
They did not undermine
Indonesian democracy, which has only grown stronger across the passage of a
decade.
And though our vigilance is
greater, we have not surrendered the freedoms that brought us here in the first
place.
We were hurt and so were our
friends, but we did not falter.
Instead, we endured and found
strength in each other.
With that strength, we embrace
those who suffered in Bali and lost so much.
With that strength, we affirm
the endurance of our ideals.
Because in the end, terror is
not beaten by policing or force of arms alone.
We prevail because we have a
better way.
We prevail because our beliefs
endure.
Terrorists have killed and
maimed thousands around the world.
But they will never sunder or
displace a single ideal.
So today we return here in
remembrance, but we also gather in quiet defiance.
We will never forget all that
we lost.
We will hold fast to that
which remains:
To our determination as a free
people to explore the world unbowed by fear; to our resolve to defeat
terrorism; and to our duty to care for each other.
I ARRIVED back in Australia from Bali on Friday, October 11,
2002. My sister and I, my nephew and a friend of his had been there for a
holiday. I stayed in Ubud.
My sister and I walked
through the rice fields and the countryside with a Balinese guide. He showed us
his village and his family home; he told us how he had left his village at the
age of 14 to live and work at the hotel at which we were staying. When he had
left home he was younger than the nephew I was travelling with. As payment for
his work as a houseboy, the hotel owner had paid his school fees, and 16 years
later, he was still at work there. We talked about the future of tourism in
Bali and how important visitors were to his work and life.
When I woke up at home
on Saturday the 12th, I could still feel the warm, humid Balinese air. I could
still see in my mind's eye the Hindu offerings which are everywhere as you walk
around the streets. I could still hear the voices of the Balinese people in
restaurants and in the streets making a fuss of the children who visit.
And then on Sunday
morning, all those memories changed. The warmth and humidity that we had loved
took on a different meaning as we watched people carry bags of ice into the
makeshift morgues.
The streets of Kuta that
had been the site of simple family pleasures for us became a place where people
desperately searched for their loved ones, living and dead. I could only
imagine how my family would have felt if our holiday had been timed slightly
differently: I could picture my parents desperately trying to find out whether
members of their family were safe.
This was the torment
that so many Australian families went through on that dreadful day. And, of
course, it is not just Australians who suffered: many Balinese were killed and
injured, along with the nationals of many other countries.
Those of us who know
Bali always felt that there was something particularly perverse and terrible in
a violent attack against people in such a peaceful and welcoming place.
When I left Bali 10
years ago, I looked forward to returning there one day.
Today, I return to Bali
for a very sad duty, to commemorate the 10th anniversary of the terrorist
attacks. Families will be travelling there. Many dignitaries will gather to pay
their respects. It will be a day in which we remember what that moment was like
for Australians.
I will be there to
remember the worst and the best in human life. The worst: this shocking murder
of innocent people by fanatics motivated by hate and trying to spread that hate
to all. And the best: the courage and compassion of so many ordinary people
caught up in this extraordinary event.
The families and the
friends of those who died and those who were grievously injured will be there
to remember the day their life changed. There is always this divide in their
lives: this line between the days "before Bali" and "after
Bali". I hope that, amid the sorrow and pain they will feel this week,
they will also be able to hang on to the joy and love of their old life.
At our best, Australians
are a brave and carefree people: we have built a great nation at home, and when
we travel the world we are welcome wherever we go.
When I've been lucky
enough to travel overseas, I always smile when I hear someone say "the
Australians are here". We show an optimistic and resolute face to the
world. No one ever complains that we are too quiet.
The people who attacked
us in Bali wanted to kill the Australians who were there — but they wanted to
change the rest of us as well. The terrorists wanted to make us people who
hate. They wanted to divide us against each other, they wanted to divide us
from our friends in Bali, in the rest of Indonesia and the world.
They failed, and they
failed for a reason, because we are better than that and we are better than
them. In the worst of circumstances, Australians did what we always do: we
stuck together, we took care of each other, we took care of our friends.
I hope all Australians,
wherever you are, take a moment to pause and reflect on all that we lost that
day.
