Kim Beazley took over from Mark Latham as federal opposition leader in 2005; the same year nine young Australians tried to smuggle 8.7kg of heroin into Australia.
John Howard was prime minister, the Swans defeated the West Coast Eagles to nab their first premiership in 72 years, and Sir Joh Bjelke-Petersen, Graham Kennedy and Kerry Packer were all laid to rest.
It was a long time ago.
The Bali Nine’s Australian ringleaders – Andrew Chan and Myuran Sukumaran – were 21 and 24. Renae Lawrence was 27. Tan Duc Thanh Nguyen, who has since died, was 22.
And the others, who are now on Australian soil and awaiting freedom, were aged between 18 and 28.
What mistake did we make at 18? And how many of us have paid a 20-year price for that? Mostly, all of us have made stupid, reckless decisions and faced the consequences – but been allowed to move on.
This isn’t to excuse the Bali Nine’s criminal behaviour. Imagine how many deaths that 8.7kg of heroin could have caused. Perhaps it might have ended the life of one of our own children, who were making their own mistake.
But 20 years, in awful conditions, away from family and friends? Seeing two of your co-accused, who had reformed their ways, shot in the dead of night? Watching the heartache, writ large on their mothers’ faces?
It’s time.
And yes, my email will be flooded within hours, attacking what some see as a soft touch. But I’ve followed this case for 20 years. Cindy Wockner and I wrote a book about these nine youths.
This is not about taking sides, except the side of time.
Did you know that others connected to this case were later arrested in Australia, faced the judicial system here, and moved on in months, or a couple of years?
For those grappling with the decision to bring Si Yi Chen, Michael Czugaj, Matthew Norman, Scott Rush and Martin Stephens home, it’s worth learning how this group got caught up in an international drug-smuggling operation (where the up-the-line culprits have never faced judgment).
Let’s just take Brisbane boy Czugaj for example. Even his family called him a follower, who didn’t fit with school, and preferred to play truant. His mother, Vicki, used to worry about the sixth of her eight children, until she sat down and considered the type of adult she believed Mikey, as his family called him, would become.
He was the first to put up his hand to help, even massaging his mother’s feet after a long work day. He was laid back, certainly. The funniest – and cheekiest – of her children. And oh, so naive.
As a journalist, you learn to disbelieve. That’s not always a good thing but a necessary thing. But I’ll go to my grave thinking that Michael Czugaj didn’t have a clue what he was getting into when he met Nguyen at a Brisbane nightclub.
Nguyen asked Michael whether he had ever been abroad. “Next he offered me to come to Bali and I agreed,” Michael told investigators. Michael took the offer on face value; a free trip from a bloke with money to burn.
He was just 19 years old.
Could our children make the same mistake? And if they did, is a 20-year sentence too long?
Scott Rush was also from Queensland; the third child of Christine, a teacher, and Lee, who worked for Telstra. Scott was good-looking, toned, athletic. And he got into trouble. In 2005.
In all nine cases, there are backstories.
Si Yi Chen was born in 1985 in Guangzhou China, later settling in Doonside in Sydney. An only child, his parents were desperate to give him the best the world could offer.
Martin Stephens, the born-and-bred Illawarra boy, caused confusion for those who knew him, when his face filled the screen on arrest. “He has always been naive,’’ his mother told me almost 20 years ago. “He was willing to believe the best of people.’’
Matthew Norman was a child when arrested but is now edging towards 40. A twin, his childhood was touched by hardship. He was born weeks premature, suffered the acrimonious separation of his parents, and then – at 14 – helped save the life of a friend’s mother, who almost overdosed on drugs.
None of this excuses their behaviour. But what if it was your child who mixed with the wrong crowd? Or who was so naive they thought a rich peer would shout a trip to Bali?
Whatever you believe, isn’t it time?
• Madonna King is a journalist, having worked in Australia and the US for three decades. She is the author of 13 books. Bali 9: the Untold Story was co-authored with Cindy Wockner
