We don't wear those shoes. The decisions they make at that time, we can't judge them.
In a riverside park in Brisbane, a small but deliberate gathering formed around Ben Roberts-Smith, a decorated soldier facing five charges of war crimes murder for allegedly killing unarmed Afghan civilians in Afghanistan. Pauline Hanson, leader of One Nation and herself a figure who has navigated the machinery of prosecution and acquittal, lent her voice to the rally, framing the case as a question of whether civilians can ever fairly sit in judgment over the decisions of war. The event was modest in size but pointed in meaning — a reminder that legal proceedings do not occur in a vacuum, and that the stories nations tell about their soldiers carry their own kind of force.
- Ben Roberts-Smith, Australia's most decorated living soldier, now faces five murder charges over the alleged killing of unarmed Afghan civilians — a case that cuts to the heart of how democracies account for wartime conduct.
- Pauline Hanson arrived at the rally not merely as a supporter but as a mirror, invoking her own wrongful conviction to argue that the justice system can and does fail those it targets.
- The crowd — flag-bearers, T-shirt wearers, a woman who rode a bus for twelve hours from western Queensland — signalled that this is becoming a cause, not just a court case.
- Organizers are already planning further events and speaking openly of building 'an army of civilians,' suggesting the political mobilisation around Roberts-Smith is only beginning.
- The unresolved question at the centre of it all — what actually happened in Afghanistan, and who has the right to judge it — remains unanswered, even as conviction hardens on both sides.
On a Sunday afternoon in the Brisbane suburb of Seventeen Mile Rocks, around a hundred people gathered in a riverside park to stand behind Ben Roberts-Smith, a Victoria Cross recipient facing five charges of war crimes murder. Roberts-Smith, a former Special Air Service Regiment soldier, is accused of killing unarmed civilians during his deployment to Afghanistan. He denies all allegations.
Pauline Hanson took the microphone and called him a war hero. The event was framed as a community barbecue, but its intent was unmistakable — a public declaration that a segment of Australians believed the former soldier was being treated unjustly. Signs called for his election as prime minister; T-shirts demanded justice for Ben; Australian flags were held aloft.
Hanson drew on her own history to make her case. Jailed in 2003 for electoral fraud and later acquitted, she argued that soldiers trained to make split-second decisions in combat could not be fairly judged by civilians reasoning in hindsight from safety. "We don't wear those shoes," she told the crowd.
Organiser Lawrence Henzell had been selling support T-shirts since Roberts-Smith's arrest, directing profits to a trust in the soldier's name. He called on the crowd to become "an army of civilians" and announced plans for further events. Among those present was Tammy Hickey, a community organiser who had travelled more than twelve hours by bus from western Queensland. She invoked her father's service in World War Two and his words — "war's war" — to express her belief that Roberts-Smith had been wronged.
The rally was a small but telling moment: the deliberate construction of a political constituency around a military figure facing grave allegations. The legal proceedings continue, and the question of what happened in Afghanistan — and who may rightly judge it — remains open.
On a Sunday afternoon in the Brisbane suburb of Seventeen Mile Rocks, about a hundred people gathered in a riverside park to stand behind a man facing five charges of war crimes murder. Ben Roberts-Smith, a Victoria Cross recipient and former Special Air Service Regiment soldier, has been accused of killing unarmed civilians during his deployment to Afghanistan. He denies everything.
Pauline Hanson, the One Nation leader, took the microphone to address the crowd. She called Roberts-Smith a war hero, a person she respected and admired. The event was billed as a community barbecue for friends of Ben, but it was something more deliberate than that—a show of force, a declaration that some Australians believed the former soldier was being treated unjustly. One supporter carried a sign suggesting Roberts-Smith should be elected prime minister. Others wore T-shirts demanding justice for Ben, or simply held the Australian flag.
Hanson drew a direct line between Roberts-Smith's prosecution and her own past. In 2003, she had been jailed for electoral fraud. That conviction was later overturned and she was acquitted. Standing before the rally, she suggested that soldiers trained to fight, trained to survive, could not be fairly judged by civilians sitting safely at home, making decisions in hindsight about split-second choices made in war. "We don't wear those shoes," she said. "The decisions they make at that time, we can't judge them, and I'm not even going to start."
Lawrence Henzell, the event's organizer, had been printing and selling T-shirts supporting Roberts-Smith since his arrest in April. The profits, he said, went to a trust established in the former soldier's name. Standing before the crowd, Henzell called for something larger: "an army of civilians" to rally behind the accused man. He told reporters afterward that he intended to organize more events.
The supporters who showed up were not casual. Tammy Hickey, a community development organizer with the Cunnamulla Aboriginal Corporation, had ridden a bus for more than twelve hours from her home in western Queensland to attend. She spoke of her father, who had fought in World War Two, and what she believed he would think of how Roberts-Smith was being treated. "War's war," she said, echoing something her father had told her. "It's just a travesty what he's been put through."
The rally represented something worth watching: the mobilization of a political constituency around a military figure facing serious allegations. Roberts-Smith's case involves allegations that he killed unarmed Afghan civilians during his service. The legal proceedings are ongoing, and the question of what happened in those moments in Afghanistan—and how those moments should be judged—remains unresolved. But on that Sunday in Brisbane, one answer was being offered with conviction.
Citas Notables
I think that we see Ben as one of our own. When we see what's happened to him, you basically sort of think, well, what's next?— Pauline Hanson
I think right now we need to form an army of civilians and support this man.— Lawrence Henzell, rally organizer
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
Why did Hanson choose to show up for this particular case, at this particular moment?
She saw a parallel to her own experience—a person she believed was being persecuted by the system. That resonance matters to her politically. It also signals to her base that she stands with people she sees as outsiders being treated unfairly.
But the allegations against Roberts-Smith involve deaths of unarmed civilians. Doesn't that distinction matter?
It does to some people. But Hanson's argument is that civilians can't judge the decisions soldiers make under fire. She's asking people to separate the person from the charges, to give him the benefit of the doubt based on his service.
The organizer talked about building an "army of civilians." What does that language suggest?
It suggests this isn't just about one man's legal defense. It's about mobilizing a constituency, turning sympathy into sustained political pressure. The language of military organization isn't accidental.
Someone traveled twelve hours to be there. What does that tell us?
That this resonates beyond the usual political circles. These aren't just party operatives. They're people who genuinely believe Roberts-Smith has been wronged, and they're willing to invest time and money to say so publicly.
What happens next?
More events, more organizing. The legal case will proceed independently, but the political case—the narrative about whether Roberts-Smith deserves support—is being actively constructed in public spaces like that park.