Families of Australian September 11 victims reject retaliatory wars

By Margaret Hale · 2026-09-11

Grief without hatred

There is a particular cruelty in being asked, repeatedly, to perform your grief for an audience. The families of ten Australians killed on 11 September 2001 have had twenty-five years of anniversaries, statements and ceremonies, and what several of them said this week was quieter and more unsettling than any official tribute: they did not want more war fought in their names.

Simon Kennedy, whose mother Yvonne was killed in the attacks, put it plainly. "Those decisions did lead to me losing my mother. But hating that guy wasn't going to bring her back," Kennedy said.^[1] It is a sentence that takes a quarter-century to arrive at, and one that no government statement issued on this anniversary quite manages to say.

Stuart Knox, whose brother Andrew was among the dead, was equally direct about the wars that followed. "We all know from history that war claims innocent lives. That was some of the hardest, hardest stuff to see," Knox said.^[1] Knox said he opposed retaliation, a sentiment shared by others in this small, dispersed community of Australian loss.

The texture of institutional grief

Paul Gyulavary, brother of Peter Gyulavary, described the moment his brother's remains were returned draped in an American flag. "In a huge coffin with an American flag draped over it. To me, it was like he died again," Gyulavary said.^[1] The flag was meant as honour; Gyulavary received it as a fresh wound.

Geoff Thompsett, brother of Stephen Thompsett, used harder language about the way authorities had dealt with his family. "The insensitivity with which they've approached us as a family has been pretty disgusting," Thompsett said.^[1] Twenty-five years is a long time to feel poorly handled by institutions that invoke your grief in their own commemorations.

At Ground Zero, a new silence

Ceremonies at the National September 11 Memorial and Museum in New York followed the established pattern: family members read aloud the names of the 2,977 dead, and seven moments of silence marked the times of impact and collapse.^[2] This year, for the first time, one of those silences was held specifically to honour victims who died of 9/11-related illness and injury, the toxic-dust deaths that accumulated in the years after the towers fell.^[2] The addition acknowledges a category of casualty the original ceremonies did not foresee.

In Washington, President Donald Trump had issued a proclamation designating 11 September 2026 as Patriot Day, directing that flags be flown at half-staff across the United States in honour of the 2,977 victims.^[3] On 8 September, Trump had attended a Steel Across America event on the Ellipse, where a 21-foot steel beam salvaged from the South Tower was displayed as a tribute to first responders.^[4]

Australia's split register

The Australian political response revealed the usual divergence between solemnity and warning. Prime Minister Anthony Albanese, Deputy Prime Minister Richard Marles and Foreign Minister Penny Wong issued a joint statement acknowledging the grief of victims' families, honouring the courage of first responders, and reaffirming Australia's resolve to stand against terrorism.^[5] The statement honoured; it did not argue.

Opposition Leader Angus Taylor's statement struck a different register, warning that Islamist extremism remains a civilisational threat and committing to root it out to protect Australia's way of life.^[6] The language of civilisational threat is pointed, implying a scale of response that the bereaved families interviewed this week were not endorsing.

Ten Australians died when 2,977 people were killed across four hijacked aircraft and two collapsed towers on 11 September 2001.^[5] The next round of anniversary commemorations at the National September 11 Memorial and Museum is scheduled to continue through the day on 11 September 2026.

Margaret Hale

Margaret Hale writes about politics, policy and the culture of business. She is drawn to the people behind decisions and to the moments when a political story turns out to be a human one.