It’s been a difficult three months. The UK has been through a series of terrorist attacks, which have punched through the daily news cycle with repeated horror and intensity.
We will remember them all – Westminster (22 March), Manchester (22 May), London Bridge (3 June), Finsbury Park (19 June) – and hope there are no more to come. A total of 36 killed and more than 220 wounded over this terrible period.
The tower fire at Grenfell in London has added to what HM The Queen described as a ‘sombre mood’ in the UK. At least another 79 people, including many children, lost. I’ve found this one particularly hard to contemplate. Partly because of the horror of the fire itself, but also because of the lack of a clear enemy or source to blame – at least until the investigation and the public inquiry are complete. It’s easy to be angry with extremists and terrorists, and in the clarity of that anger we can find a unity of purpose. But on Grenfell I feel a deep sense of hopelessness and sadness, that such a thing could have happened in our capital city in this – the 21st century.
We have all shed tears for those we have lost, and for their families and friends. For while the rest of us can pick ourselves up after these terrible events, that will not be the case for those directly affected by trauma. When the flowers have wilted, the candles have gone out and the media has moved onto the next Big Story, people will still be suffering and their lives will never be the same again.
Dealing with all of this as the leading representative of the UK government, thousands of miles away from home, has tested my personal sense of resilience. Being the public face of your country is a huge privilege – and mostly a joy. But when things go wrong at home, I feel as if I carry the burden of that too – with my team, with the media, with our friends and contacts across Australia.
My most difficult moment in all this was when it was confirmed two Australians had been killed in London Bridge. It felt like a terrible twist on the great story of our young people crossing the world to spend time in each other’s countries – those vibrant people and familial links that underpin the extreme closeness of UK/Australia relations. I felt accountable – if clearly not responsible – for what had happened, and found myself apologising repeatedly for what had occurred.
Minding my own resilience through this period has made me reflect that the things that make each of us strong as individuals by extension also apply to our countries. I think some essential ingredients for me and for the UK more broadly are:
1. Acknowledge and grieve. As individuals we need time to reflect and remember, to help us to move forward. The same goes for our countries, which is why we come together in times of trouble to create the space for national mourning and collective grief. Think of the vigil in Manchester, for example, the day after the suicide attack there; or the memorial we held here at the British High Commission later that week.
2. Keep perspective. For me, this has meant trying not to wallow too much in the grief of others – these are their stories, not mine; and the rhythm of my own family life has been a great corrective to the bad news for home – even if I hug my kids a little tighter these days. The same goes for the UK. Yes, horrible things have happened on the streets of London – but it’s a city of 8.7 million people. After the Blitz, the IRA, 7/7 – we will come through this, taking confidence from our energy and dynamism and strong multiculturalism. 38% of Londoners were born overseas, and are now a key part of what makes my city so global, so great.
3. Go about our business as usual. Or (at the risk of non-diplomatic language) – sod the terrorists and two fingers up to the extremists. We will carry on, as individuals, as cities and as countries. For me, that means looking forward with eager anticipation to my own trip to the UK in a couple of weeks’ time. For my country, that means the One Love Manchester concert, just a week after the Arena atrocity. It means continuing to attract tourists and investors and students. We are open: come and see us. You will find us unbowed and defiant, in a @SoVeryBritish sort of way. (For example: responding to someone saying no to a cup of tea by asking: “is everything OK?”. Or feeling extremely uneasy when someone insists you won’t need a jacket.)
These are the things that give each of us, and my home city and nation, a relentless sort of resilience. We kind of need it right now. And the support of our friends in Australia helps sustain that through dark times – and has helped me enormously too. Thank you all for your friendship and support. We will be OK.