The fear that haunts Australia

Muslim students in Sydney preach peace. Picture / Reuters

At 2.30am on Tuesday, Australia's worst fears emerged from the shadows and took terrifying form. Seventeen men, one shot in the neck during a gunfight with police, were hauled from their homes and accused of preparing to launch a bloody jihad in the nation's two biggest cities. Another was arrested on Thursday night, allegedly on the run.

Not only white Australia trembled. The country's large and fast-growing Muslim community paled, caught between natural fears of death or maiming through random bombings on the one hand and the near surety of violent reprisals on the other.

And although the charges against the alleged terrorists have yet to be heard - let alone proved - there is little doubt in the minds of most Australians that lethal religious extremism has sprung from the nation's suburbs, among fanatics who place a twisted interpretation of Islam above the lives of their countrymen and women.

Without doubt, this week's raids have also satisfied most Australians that the latest and most draconian anti-terror laws now passing through the Federal Parliament are indeed needed to preserve their safety, regardless of the restrictions they impose on civil rights and their availability for wider abuse by a future government with a darker agenda.

"It sounds over-dramatic to say that the proposed laws are of a kind that may identify a police state," John von Doussa, QC, president of the Government's Human Rights and Equal Opportunity Commission told a forum on the impact of the laws on human rights.

"But let us reflect for a moment on this proposition: the defining characteristic of a police state is that the police exercise power on behalf of the Executive, and the conduct of the police cannot be effectively challenged through the justice system of the state. Regrettably, this is exactly what the laws which are currently under debate will achieve."

But all this pales beneath the reality that homegrown terrorism has taken root, as intelligence agencies have long been warning it would, and that the horrors inflicted abroad will now, inevitably, be repeated here, possibly sooner rather than later.

Blood had previously been shed by acts of terror in Australia, but as a product of violence abroad: the firebombing of Yugoslav interests in Sydney, the assassination of the Turkish Consul-General and a bodyguard, the 1978 anti-Indian bombing of the Sydney Hilton that killed three innocents.

Now Australia, its people and its interests are targets, largely because of its close association with the United States and regional activities, notably intervention in East Timor and widely reported support by Prime Minister John Howard for pre-emptive strikes against terror bases.

Australia's participation in the invasion of Iraq, while by no means a cause in itself, is regarded by many to have increased the nation's vulnerability to attack.

Osama bin Laden first specified Australia as a target on November 3, 2001, in a reference to Timor: "The Crusader Australian forces were on the Indonesia shore ... They landed to separate East Timor, which is part of the Islamic World." The nation has since been named five times by bin Laden or his deputy, Ayman al-Zawahiri, and further by regional terrorists. Bali bomber Mukhlas warned: "This is a curse from God that they be afraid of their own shadow."

The threat has grown year by year for the past five years, since American intelligence agencies warned their Australian counterparts before the Sydney Olympics of communications between the 1993 World Trade Centre bombers and Australian residents.

Abroad there was the horror of the two Bali bombings, last year's bomb blast outside the Australian Embassy in Jakarta, and thwarted plans by Jemaah Islamiyah to attack other interests.

At home, radical Muslim convert Jack Roche planned to bomb Israeli interests, French terrorist Willy Brigitte set up a terror cell in Sydney, and other alleged terrorists are now before the courts.

But nothing was so chilling as the activities allegedly uncovered during Operation Pandanus, an 18-month game of cat-and-mouse in the suburbs of Sydney and Melbourne, that built on two years of earlier work and erupted in the dark of early morning, as 400 heavily armed police, backed by helicopters, swooped down on sleeping suspects.

The operation, as it has unfolded through police statements and preliminary court proceedings, traced the development of cells in Sydney and Melbourne dedicated to death and destruction.

On the strict qualification that at present these are allegations yet to be tested in court against the presumption of innocence, the police case is thus: for many months - in some cases, years - agents of the domestic spy agency, the Australian Security Intelligence Organisation (ASIO), and counter-terror police had been watching suspect Muslim radicals.

They were alerted by the public pronouncements and activities of some, by information from abroad, and by tip-offs and informers from within the Muslim community.

The body of knowledge increased as other players were tracked, observed and even arrested. The network established in Sydney by Brigitte (now in custody in France) led to new suspects. Further information came from 240 hours of telephone taps, electronic surveillance, and alerts that reportedly included concern by a supplier at the amounts of chemicals being bought by Muslim customers. Widely reported raids last year produced more evidence.

At the head of the group was radical Melbourne cleric Abdul Nacer Benbrika, also known as Abu Bakr, a 45-year-old Algerian-born Australian citizen and associate of Sheik Mohammed Omran, whose extreme views and support of foreign terrorism sparked a furious exchange with Howard and other Government ministers.

Benbrika has openly supported bin Laden as a "great man" and is an advocate of violent jihad. He told an ABC radio interviewer, "You die, you don't lose nothing because if you die, there's a big reward and the Muslim who goes to the jihad, he doesn't go for the money, he goes to die. That's why he's not scared when you tell him, 'I'm going to kill you' - he's not scared, he already came to die."

Around him Benbrika allegedly gathered like-minded followers and began preparing what police claim was to be a jihad of catastrophic proportions.

Potential targets included key railway stations, buildings such as the Stock Exchange and Melbourne's 43-storey Casselden Tower - home of many federal offices - and national icons such as Sydney's Opera House and Harbour Bridge.

In Melbourne, former rock musician and recent Muslim convert Shane Kent, 28, allegedly joined 25-year-old Fayal Sayadi, Ahmed Raad, 22, Ezzit Raad, 23, Hany Taha, 31, Aimen Joud, 21, and Addulla Merhl, 20, in a conspiracy to kill.

They downloaded jihadist propaganda and bomb-making information from the internet, gathered weapons and underwent military-style training and ran a stolen car operation to fund their goal.

Suicide bombing was discussed, especially by Merhl, who wanted to become Australia's first martyr for the cause.

The Sydney cell included several former intimates of Brigitte, including 36-year-old butcher Abdul Rhakid Hasan, who arranged several safe houses for the alleged French terrorist, known Benbrika associate Khalid Sharrouf, 24, and Khalid Cheiko, 32, who allegedly trained in a Pakistani terror camp.

The others were Mohamed Ali Elomar, 40, whose family were previously suspected of running a training camp for militants, television bit-player and car painter Omar Baladjam, 28 - shot in the neck in a gunfight with police - Mazen Touma, 25, Bosnian car painter Mirsad Mulahalovic, and Mustafa Cheikho, 28.

Police said the Sydney cell was well ahead of its Melbourne counterpart, already having acquired enough chemicals to make 15 large bombs of the kind used to attack London. Their progress was such that they could have assembled the bombs within days.

For the moment at least it appears the arrests have broken the back of any immediate danger of major attack within Australia. The national counter-terrorism alert level remains at medium, meaning an attack "could occur". The level has yet to reach high, when an attack is likely, or extreme, when an attack is imminent or under way.

But for most Australians there remains a sense of inevitability, and a continuing fear that the worst danger exists within. Moderate Islam has condemned terror at home and abroad, has censured those of its faith who have advocated violent jihad and is working closely with

For most Australians there remains a sense of inevitability, and a continuing fear that the worst danger exists within.

governments and police to calm fears on one hand and root out evil on the other.

"Our religion does not preach violence," said Dr Ameer Ali, president of the Australian Federation of Australian Councils.

Much of the nation remains to be convinced. A Meet The Press/Ispos poll in August found one-third believed the Muslim community was working to discourage terrorism, one-third believed it was not doing enough and the rest did not know.

Of the roughly 281,000 Muslims living in Australia, about one-third were born in the country, 10 per cent were born in Lebanon and 8 per cent in Turkey. The remainder come from countries such as Indonesia, Afghanistan, the Balkans, Iraq, Iran, Pakistan and Bangladesh.

Most become passionate Australians. The young men take readily to the Australian characteristic of physically standing up for themselves. But they also suffer the problems of all migrants. Unemployment rates can soar to 23 per cent, and social isolation and discrimination are facts of life.

Many have suffered directly for their faith, especially in the aftermath of September 11 and the later Bali bombings.

A Human Rights and Equal Opportunity Commission survey found a "rising wave of prejudice" driven by fear and the need for scapegoats. Muslims were attacked, spat at, abused and threatened. Traditional hajib headwear were torn from women's heads.

This week's arrests have raised deep fears of more to come. Calling for greater protection of mosques, schools and Muslim enclaves, Ali said: "My people are afraid that it is on occasions like this the rednecks can create havoc."

ASIO and other terror experts warn that this combination of anger and fear opens the door to extremism. The advocates of violence are waiting: dozens have been identified and are being tracked by counter-terror agencies.

The voices of hate are also some of the most influential, speaking at mosques and suburban religious meetings. A number of those arrested this week are known to be followers of the radical Sheik Omran.

Others, such as Wassim Doureihi, the Australian-born leader of the Sydney branch of the Islamic movement Hizb ut-Tahrir, believe Muslims cannot co-exist with Western society. Doureihi regards his nationality second to his faith, telling the Sydney Morning Herald, "I consider myself a Muslim first and foremost."

Ali concedes the problem of religious firebrands and, like other Muslim leaders, condemns the "tiny minority" who try to suborn Islam to their own ends. He said a major problem was that 90 per cent of Australian imams (religious teachers) were born overseas and did not understand the culture.

Even without religious extremism, the threat of violence exists. Muslim leaders have warned of anger among their young and have appealed for calm. In Melbourne, supporters of the alleged terrorists attacked media crews outside a court. In Sydney, police suspect one of their cars was firebombed in retribution.

And for all the assurances to the contrary, many Muslims believe Howard's new anti-terror laws target them. Community leaders are alarmed at the extent of powers of arrest and detention, and the secrecy around them.

Ali said the arrests had been made under existing laws, proving them adequate and upholding democracy through public scrutiny and media debate. "Under the new laws, everything that has happened [in the terror arrests] would have happened in darkness."