On 19 November 2020 I gathered at 1100h with other staff and trainees at Army School of Transport, as did other units all around Australia, to watch the Chief of the Defence Force General Angus Campbell announce the Brereton Report of alleged war crimes by Australian Special Forces in Afghanistan. Trainees wanted to debrief afterwards as they questioned what had happened. They understood the Australian Defence Force (ADF) was highly respected by the Australian public and that acknowledging murder of civilians, torture and mistreatment of detainees and other atrocities turned a new page in history. They were starting to digest how and why that happened, and what it meant for ADF moving forward?

Given these are questions which most of us in ADF have been asking, Veiled Valour is timely for its background insights. The author Thomas Robert Frame AM is an Australian academic and formerly an Australian Naval Officer (1979-1992) and Anglican Bishop to the ADF (2001-2007). His focus is not the Inquiry’s findings but the political and military contexts of the events it uncovered, and the media and consultant reports and Brereton investigation that uncovered them.

Part 1 explores the context of Afghanistan’s modern history including the Soviet Union’s decade-long occupation and widespread and shameful violations of human rights, and the subsequent civil war and rise of the Taliban and its oppressive religious extremism. The intractable conflict and morally degrading context of counterinsurgency increased the possibility of breaches of humanitarian law.

Part 2 discusses the evolution of Australia’s Special Forces since 1957 and their deployment in Afghanistan between 2001 and 2013, and the changing shape of the Taliban and the human terrain of Uruzgan province where Australians were based. Frame notes the Special Air Service (SAS) has always recruited humility over hubris, bravery over bravado, and stressed the importance of good character and not going “rogue”. They have had to be careful not to see themselves as elite soldiers exempt from rules that apply to broader Army, especially given the sensitive nature of their missions. They have proven themselves in many conflicts, including navigating difficult ethical dilemmas in Vietnam and East Timor.

The overwhelming majority of Defence members including Special Forces have always been and are today good people of the highest integrity who conscientiously navigate ethical dilemmas. Yet in Afghanistan the SAS faced a perfect storm of situational stressors:

“The conditions under which the anti-Taliban insurgency would be fought were the most complicated, and the most constricting, ever faced by Australian uniformed personnel on deployment, including the war in South Vietnam. With one side enveloped by an intricate web of rules and regulations and the other bound by none, the possibility, if not the probability, of the law being violated and ethical principles being ignored had never been greater.” (p.164)

The ADF was already stretched by deployments in East Timor and PNG, Iraq and Solomon Islands. There were differences of opinion between Cabinet and ADF leaders on what forces were needed in Afghanistan. Those deployed were sent with some ethical training but not fully aware of the ethically challenging context. The Taliban did not wear uniform, had no front lines, used homes as staging posts and recruited locals with fear and money. It was easy for troops to feel Rules of Engagement were inadequate, grew annoyed with the “catch and release” policy, and were angry the enemy did not hold to humanitarian law. Improvised explosive devices (IEDs) and insider “green-on-blue” attacks occurred leading to distrust and resentment. The task of rebuilding a functioning post-Soviet and post-Taliban State was huge and yet the mission seemed more about supporting the Americans than other clear goals. And Special Forces became the troops of choice of the Australian government and thus their operational tempo and fatigue only increased, stretched by multiple rotations.

Part 3 unveils the drama of rumours of alleged misconduct that emerged since 2013 from media reports and including official reports by sociologist Samantha Crompvoets in 2016, former Intelligence head David Irvine AO in 2018 and 2020, and then the process of the formal IGADF inquiry. Crompvoets and Irvine had identified Unacceptable Behaviour, exceptionalism, dysfunctional culture, alcohol abuse, a distorted ‘warrior culture’, mateship being elevated over leadership, and a fraught relationship between SAS and Commando Regiments. They also hinted at stories of war crimes, and the media began reporting specific incidences.

Part 4 identifies comparative experiences in the New Zealand, United Kingdom, Canadian and French armed forces – the legal and ethical dilemmas they faced, how they responded, and the political and public responses in their home countries. Frame begins to identify lessons Australia could learn from Canada about ethical training after their Somalia scandal, the French determination to avoid repeats of Algeria, and what New Zealand learned about navigating the political-military interface. Finally, Frame discusses the UK “human factors analysis” and training recommendations following Sergeant Blackman murdering a wounded Taliban insurgent, recorded as saying: “Obviously this doesn’t go anywhere, fellas, I just broke the Geneva Convention” (p.321).

Part 5 examines the process of the IGADF report and the need to ask deep questions about the war crimes it identifies – not “heat of battle” incidents but atrocities unbecoming of Australian soldiers. Frame introduced the book with the surprise many felt about the atrocities, given the high regard Australia has for its military: “Larrikins yes, murderers no” (p.2). He concludes with the sad recognition, “The reputation of the Aussie ‘digger’ for valour had been veiled” (p413).

Strengths of the book are, on the one hand, the empathy Frame expresses for how the SAS has been challenged, but on the other hand identifying where misconduct has to be faced and culture change and further training is needed. Regarding implications for preparation and training of forces especially for counterinsurgency operations and other operations that present “wicked” problems, in many ways the book asks more questions than it answers. It concludes at a point in history one day before the Brereton report’s public release. In that sense it leaves analysis of the report’s details and actioning necessary recommendations to those responsible for recruiting, training, and leading the next generation of Australian Special Forces. Veiled Valour is invaluable reading for those troops and those responsible for leading and supporting them.

Notes

Publisher details: Veiled Valour: Australian Special Forces in Afghanistan and war crimes allegations, by Tom Frame (Sydney: UNSW Press, 2022, ISBN 9781742237633 pbk, 456pp, AU$49.99)

An earlier version of this review was published in Australian Army Chaplaincy Journal (2023), pp.106-108.

The views expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the position of the Australian Army, the Department of Defence or the Australian Government.