by John Howard
I returned to my hotel room with some of my staff. Shortly afterwards I was told by my principal private secretary, Tony Nutt, that the Secret Service wanted me to leave the hotel immediately. The head of my detail, Keith Edwards, came to my room and said, ‘I haven’t lost anyone yet and I don’t intend to start today.’
I was worried about Janette and Tim, who a short while earlier had gone sightseeing. I was assured that they were okay and would be taken to the same place as me. At that stage no one knew who was responsible, or the full scale of the loss of life and property. I did not feel panic, nor did anyone around me show it. The reaction of all I spoke to that day was amazingly calm and deliberate.
Accompanied by blaring sirens and flashing lights, we were taken to what can only be described as a bunker under the Australian embassy in Pennsylvania Avenue. Janette and Tim arrived there shortly after I did.
Janette and Tim were being driven to the Jefferson Memorial when Tim saw smoke coming from the direction of the Pentagon, which lies across the Potomac River from Washington. He asked Frank Morgan, one of my AFP detail accompanying them, ‘Frank, does that [pointing to the smoke on the horizon] have anything to do with what has just happened in New York?’ Morgan, who had changed his radio frequency after he himself had seen the smoke, replied, ‘Yes, it does. A plane has hit the Pentagon.’
They were immediately joined by a Secret Service officer who had been following in another car who said that they were off to a safe house. Their car stopped, literally, in the middle of an intersection. The Secret Service driver, Sergeant Ranican, called to an officer who was in a marked police car, ‘I’ve got the missus of Australia with me. Where’s the nearest safe house?’ He was given an address and, accompanied by screeching sirens and a police escort, they headed for what turned out to be a fire station in a Washington suburb. After about half an hour they were driven to the bunker under the Australian embassy.
The bunker was a large area, and was rapidly filling with other Australians, including many businesspeople I had intended meeting later that morning. I telephoned the acting Prime Minister, John Anderson, to discuss responses in Australia. He told me that action had already been taken to provide protection for US assets and installations. The AFP had established an exclusion zone around the American embassy in Canberra, and heightened security arrangements had been put in place for the consulates in Melbourne, Sydney and Perth. There had also been increased surveillance and protection for Israeli and Jewish assets in Australia. He also briefed me on a meeting involving the security agencies to discuss first-response arrangements.
At this point, there was no way of knowing if the attacks were the first in a series to take place around the world. It was obvious that what had occurred in New York and Washington had been a planned act of terrorism. There was a legitimate fear that similar attacks would occur in places such as London, Paris, Tokyo and Rome. Australia could not be excluded. As time went by, it became apparent that there was not to be a pattern of attacks around the world. But it was some weeks after 11 September before we could be confident of that.
Tom Schieffer and his wife came to the bunker. My instinctive reaction was literally to embrace him and say, ‘Tom, I am so sorry for what has happened to your country.’ I had only known him for a few months but would come not only to see a lot of him but to like him immensely. He was a wonderful representative of his country in Australia at a critical period. His personal friendship with George Bush added enormous value to his ambassadorship. They had been partners in the ownership of the Texas Rangers baseball team. They had remained very good friends. The President told me on several occasions that if I really had a problem and was not getting anywhere through the normal channels, I should ‘ring Schieffer’ and he would fix it.
After speaking to Tom Schieffer, I dictated a letter to the President:
Dear Mr President.
The Australian Government and people share the sense of horror experienced by your nation at today’s catastrophic events and the appalling loss of life. I feel the tragedy even more keenly, being here in Washington at the moment.
In the face of an attack of this magnitude, words are always inadequate in conveying sympathy and support. You can however be assured of Australia’s resolute solidarity with the American people at this most tragic time.
My personal thoughts and prayers are very much with those left grieved by these despicable attacks upon the American people and the American nation.
I then addressed a news conference, commencing with the reading of the letter to President Bush. I expressed the horror and revulsion of the Australian people at the events which had taken place a few hours earlier. I reported my discussion with the acting Prime Minister and the arrangements put in place in Australia.
It was a time for unconditional expressions of support and sympathy. I said:
… the only other thing I can say to you is really on behalf of all of the Australians here is to say to our American friends, who we love and admire so much, we really feel for you. It is a terrible day. It is a day that recalls the words used by President Roosevelt in 1941 — it is a day of infamy that an attack of this kind can be made in such an indiscriminate fashion — not upon military assets as was the case in Pearl Harbor but upon innocent civilians: men, women and children going about their daily lives. As I say, words aren’t very adequate but they are a sign that we feel for our American friends. We will stand by them, we will help them, and we will support actions they take to properly retaliate in relation to these acts of bastardry against their citizens and against what they stand for.
I meant every word. To me there had been an attack on the American way of life. As a consequence it was also an attack on our way of life, because so much of what we held dear as basic freedoms are the things that Americans also held dear as basic freedoms.
The attacks on New York and Washington on 11 September 2001 were audacious, cruel and hideously successful acts of calculated terrorism, representing the most significant assault on the American homeland since Pearl Harbor. They hit the nation’s commercial heart and its capital; they claimed more lives than the Japanese assault in December 1941.
Being in Washington meant that I absorbed, immediately, the shocked disbelief, anger and all of the other emotions experienced by the American people. They were outraged by the audacity and stunned by the chilling effectiveness of the terror mission. In 24 hours the psychology of the United States was transformed. That the United States was utterly unprepared for these terrorist attacks was abundantly clear from my discussions with the President and Vice-president, the Secretary of State, the President’s National Security Advisor and the Defense Secretary, during the two days before that fateful 11 September.
There was no alarm in the bunker but, from the horrifying TV pictures, a realisation that America had been attacked in a way never before experienced. There was plenty of speculation by the businessmen about travel arrangements. Given the time differences with Australia, and the rapidly imposed closure of American airspace, speculation was the only option available.
I talked to my advisors about the possible source of the attack. Michael Thawley said that first suspicions would inevitably fall on the al Qaeda terrorist network operating out of Afghanistan. It had been linked to earlier terrorist attacks on American forces and bases abroad. Like others, I was aware of its lethal intent, but never imagined it had the capacity to mount the attack carried out just a few hours earlier.
I knew that my previously planned address to a joint sitting of Congress on Wednesday, 12 September could not go ahead, but told Michael Thawley that instead I would like to visit the Capitol Building the following day, as a mark of respect to the American people.
Janette and I decided to spend the evening at the embassy residence and that afternoon decamped there with a lot of our staff and later had an informal barbecue. We were all still quite numb. It was a sombre occasion and a sad contrast to the spirited optimism felt only two day
s earlier. It seemed the world had irrevocably changed in 24 hours and that so many things that seemed important just a day or two earlier would no longer be issues troubling us in the months ahead.
President Bush had been listening to the reading of a group of second-graders at Emma E. Booker Elementary School, Sarasota, Florida, when the attack occurred. Bush knew of the first tower being hit when he entered the classroom. He only knew that it was an act of terrorism when his chief of staff, Andy Card, came into the classroom and whispered news of the second attack in his ear. Later Condi Rice would do likewise, telling him, ‘America is under attack.’ For some extraordinary reason, some of the former president’s critics, such as the film-maker Michael Moore, made a big thing of the fact that Bush continued with the children for some minutes after being told of the attack. That seemed a remarkably petty reaction. Calmly completing the task at hand and not alarming the children was entirely the right response. Those few minutes with the second-graders allowed him to adjust to what he had been told.
Bush made a brief statement to the American people from the library of that school. Fox News reported Byron Mitchell, a fifth-grader present in the library, as saying, ‘I learned a lot. I learned anything can happen at any given moment. That was the biggest day of my life. I wouldn’t say I was in the middle of it, but I was part of it.’1 In his simple, direct fashion, this young American had sensed the life-changing character of the attack for America.
The President was whisked away to an undisclosed location and later delivered a short television address to the nation. It was not very comprehensive, and I could understand some of the criticism which it attracted. It must be remembered, though, that the United States had no way of knowing whether or not these attacks were the beginning of a rolling terrorist assault on various parts of the United States or whether they were, as turned out to be the case, one-off but devastating outrages.
Early on Wednesday morning, Michael Thawley was in touch with the office of the Speaker of the House of Representatives, and I was invited to attend a special sitting of Congress at which resolutions condemning the attacks and expressing support for whatever response would be necessary were to be debated.
Later that morning I had the unique experience of observing a stunned but calm US legislature discussing a response to one of the most horrific events in their nation’s history. Janette and I sat in the public gallery, accompanied only by Michael Thawley, his wife, Debbie, and our security detail. There would be no other people present in the gallery. The speaker graciously drew attention to our presence and described it as an expression of support and empathy with the American people. I received a standing ovation, and felt deeply moved by that reception; I was quite emotional about being able, at that time, in those circumstances to be in the capital of the United States to convey the sympathy and support of the Australian people. Tragic as the circumstances were, I felt especially privileged to be there. After the session ended, I went onto the floor of the Senate and sought out Hillary Clinton and Charles Schumer, the two New York senators, to say how I felt for them particularly, because of the attack on their city. Hillary told me that her husband, Bill, had been in Port Douglas, in Queensland, when the attack took place.
Later that day Janette and I, accompanied by Tim, attended a memorial service at the Washington National Cathedral. This cathedral has seen numerous significant services, funerals and memorials. Many of Washington’s officialdom attended the service, trying in their own way to comprehend what had occurred. After the service I returned to the embassy residence for lunch and that afternoon I was to take two important phone calls.
The first was from Rich Armitage, the Deputy Secretary of State. In recent years there has been no US official more supportive of Australia, better informed about our politics and more genuinely sympathetic to our cause than Rich Armitage. An imposing, barrel-chested Vietnam War hero, Armitage has a deceptively soft and husky voice. I first met him when he was deputy to Casper Weinberger, the Defense Secretary in the Reagan Administration. We established an instant friendship. Armitage and Colin Powell were close personally. He was a neat fit as number two to the retired general.
Armitage was not in much doubt that the attack had been organised by al Qaeda, and that the nerve centre of operations had been Afghanistan. He pinpointed the significance of Pakistan, making it clear that action was being contemplated against terrorist activities in Afghanistan. He said that Pakistan would have to make a decision quickly as to whose side it was on. He said that Perves Masharaff, the President of Pakistan, would ‘feel some pain from the United States to make up his mind very quickly’.
The other phone call was from Alan Greenspan, the chairman of the Federal Reserve. He was cautious in predicting the likely impact of the attacks on the markets. He said that if there were no further attacks, then the financial impact might be relatively short-lived. I was always interested in knowing Greenspan’s views. A face-to-face discussion with him was a regular feature of every visit I paid to the United States whilst he was still at the Fed. He was calm and measured and certainly did not foretell financial-system calamity as a result of the attacks. He was right.
During our many discussions on both 11 and 12 September, Michael Thawley said that he thought action against Iraq would be on the agenda as a result of the attacks. He did not say that he believed Iraq was involved, nor that this was a belief of the Bush Administration.
Due to the closure of airspace, no commercial aircraft could leave the country. After discussion with Armitage and others, arrangements were made for Air Force Two to fly me and my party from Andrews Air Force Base near Washington to Hawaii. I would then join a Qantas flight from Hawaii to Sydney. It would be the first flight from US airspace since the attacks.
Before leaving for Andrews Air Force Base, I held a news conference at the ambassador’s residence in which I made an important promise on behalf of Australia. I said: ‘I’ve also indicated that Australia will provide all support that might be requested of us by the United States in relation to any action that might be taken.’ I had committed Australia to assisting the United States in her retaliation against those responsible for the outrage against her citizens. I also predicted that the fight against terrorism would be with us for years into the future and that no nation, including Australia, was immune from a terrorist attack.
In making that commitment I spoke for my Government and the people of Australia. In words I would use later, this was a time for a 100 per cent ally, not a 70 or 80 per cent one. I am sure that the gratitude of the American people for the speed and unconditional character of our response remains to this day.
Our flight left Andrews Air Force Base at approximately 4.30 pm on Wednesday, 12 September. It had been a brief and drama-packed visit to the United States. Out of the window I watched the farewelling party on the tarmac, which included Michael and Debbie Thawley, US Air Force people, embassy staff and our son Tim. I kept my eyes on Tim for as long as possible. He was to return to London; exactly when, he did not know. After what had occurred, all manner of thoughts regarding his safety flooded through me. It would have been a like experience for parents all around the world.
Suddenly the world had become very different, much more dangerous, and vulnerabilities real or imagined abounded no matter what the calm logic of the situation suggested some months down the track.
On the way back to Australia I spoke to Alexander Downer. We agreed that, subject to cabinet approval, the ANZUS Treaty should be invoked. After I completed my telephone conversation I walked to another section of the plane and informed Tom Schieffer of our intentions regarding the ANZUS Treaty. He was moved by this important gesture by Australia. I also spoke to John Anderson regarding the Ansett matter. I would have a full plate upon my return to Australia.
After clearing customs in Sydney I was immediately confronted by a group of Ansett employees. They knew of my return. Albeit in a friendly fashion, they bailed me up. I listened to what they had t
o say and felt a genuine sympathy for those who feared for the loss of their positions.
The Government should not rescue Ansett. We would, however, need to provide assistance with entitlements. After speaking to the Ansett employees, I boarded an aircraft for Canberra and went straight to a cabinet meeting. There were two subjects on the agenda: the terrorist attacks and Ansett.
After the meeting I held a joint news conference with John Anderson and Alexander Downer. I announced that cabinet had decided the ANZUS Treaty should be invoked in relation to the attack upon the United States. As a result, we would consult the Americans regarding responses which might be deemed appropriate to what did amount to an attack upon the metropolitan territory of the United States, in accordance with the provisions of the ANZUS Treaty. I also said it was the unanimous view of cabinet that Australia stood ready to cooperate, within the limits of its capability, in any response that the United States may regard as necessary in consultation with her allies.
On Ansett, I confirmed the Government would not accept the proposition of the Leader of the Opposition for it to fund the operation of the company for a further two weeks. We had advice that it would cost between $120 and $170 million merely to keep the company operating until the evening of the following day. An extrapolation out to the period nominated by Kim Beazley revealed that such a step would impose an unacceptable additional cost on the budget.
I had been a regular customer of Ansett in the years before I became Prime Minister. I had always found their staff polite, helpful and efficient. Regrettably the company had become the victim of poor management, some overindulgent industrial relations arrangements and a multiplicity of aircraft types, which added hugely to maintenance costs.