Sydney siege that began with a tweet came to loud, bloody end

Man Haron Monis wanted media to report attack had been carried out by Islamic State

A Lindt hostage escaping the cafe in Martin Place, Sydney, on Monday. Photograph: Joel Carrett/EPA
A Lindt hostage escaping the cafe in Martin Place, Sydney, on Monday. Photograph: Joel Carrett/EPA

The first that most people heard about what was to rapidly become Sydney’s biggest security operation in more than three decades came shortly after 10am local time

on Monday, when New South Wales police sent out a blandly worded tweet saying an “operation” was under way in the city centre, and people should avoid the area. It was almost 17 hours later, in the early hours of Tuesday, when another brief social media message announced the end of the bloody hostage drama at the Lindt Cafe, which had appalled and horrified the city and the wider world. “Sydney siege is over,” read the tweet. “More details to follow.”

About 15 minutes before that first message, an unshaven man wearing a white shirt and a dark cap had approached the cafe in Martin Place, a bustling pedestrianised strip bisecting Sydney’s central business district which is also home to several bank HQs, the city’s main post office and the MLC Centre, a 67-storey 1970s office block.

It remains unclear precisely how the siege began. But, at a certain point, the man opened his bag to show terrified cafe customers that it contained a weapon, believed to be a shotgun. Chris Reason, a reporter with Australia’s Channel 7 News, based in an office building directly opposite, said he first saw a scuffle and a surge of people and initially thought he was witnessing an armed hold-up of one of the cash vehicles parked near the Reserve Bank of Australia, also in Martin Place. Then he saw the doors of the cafe were locked, and a uniformed employee was rattling them, shouting to be allowed in. Reason said: “The gunman came up, opened his bag, showed her he had a gun of some sort inside the bag. She ran off screaming, and that’s when the situation was brought to the attention of police.”

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Sealed off

The cafe was soon surrounded by police and paramilitary officers. A grid of central streets was sealed off, bringing transport chaos and disruption even outside the exclusion zone, with performances cancelled at the Sydney Opera House. Apparently unconcerned by what was unfolding inside, onlookers gathered, some of them taking photographs of themselves on their mobile phones. One hashtag was #hostagesituationselfie.

The man holding the hostages was Man Haron Monis, an Iranian-born self-professed Muslim cleric with a distinctly chequered history in Australia since claiming asylum in 1996. Monis ( 59), who styled himself Sheikh Haron, had been convicted of sending offensive letters to the families of Australian soldiers killed in Afghanistan, and was on bail for allegedly being an accessory to the murder of his former wife. He was also facing dozens of charges of indecent and sexual assault.

Vantage point

At first police were at a loss to explain what was happening inside, beyond an unknown number of terrified customers being held at gunpoint, or the motivation of the hostage-taker. But, as it turned out, Channel 7’s glass-walled newsroom provided a perfect vantage point. Before they were evacuated by police, Reason and his colleagues were able to carefully count 15 different faces inside the cafe, as well as the gunman. They also saw hostages being ordered in turn to stand against the cafe windows, facing outwards to the street. One young blond woman, Reason said, was made to remain there for two hours. “We could clearly see her face, and her red, raw eyes. Obviously, she had been crying uncontrollably at some stage, quite understandably.”

Another hostage, a young man, was standing with his head in his hands. Reason saw Monis push his gun into the ribs of another captive.

One woman told Australian radio station 2GB she had received a text message from her son saying he was among those being held. “My heart stopped,” she said. “I sent back a text message: ‘What is going on? Are you okay?’”

The parade of hostages then brought an insight into the man’s motivation. Several captives were forced to stand holding up a black and white flag bearing the Arabic script “There is no god but the God, Muhammad is the messenger of God.” The creed is common in the Islamic world – it appears on the Saudi Arabian flag – but has been embraced by Islamist groups such as Jabhat al-Nusra and Hizb ut-Tahrir.

Monis’s name soon emerged, but police asked the media not to reveal it. The good news for them was that his involvement appeared to preclude an attack by an organised group. The less good news was that Monis had a history of very erratic behaviour.

Amid the news blackout, the sightings of the Islamic banner prompted public fears of an attack by a group such as Islamic State, or militants associated with them. The Australian prime minister, Tony Abbott, addressed the media to say he feared the "disturbing incident" could have some political motivation, but that this meant the country should ensure it was not paralysed.

Abbott’s tone appeared to be reflected in the wider public mood, most prominently in a fast-emerging Twitter tag called #illridewithyou. Sydney people started to offer to travel with Muslim citizens to protect them if they found themselves targeted by anti-Islam sentiment. Inside the cafe, however, Monis was attempting his own propaganda. First it emerged that the hostage-taker had phoned a Sydney radio presenter, Ray Hadley, asking to speak on air, which Hadley refused.

Videos

Brief videos were uploaded to YouTube – most swiftly taken down – apparently from within the cafe. These showed a series of terrified hostages relaying messages from Monis, whom they called only “the brother”. He wanted delivery of an Islamic State flag and the media to report that it was an attack by the militant group. Finally, he wanted a live, on-air talk with Abbott. Unsurprisingly, none of these was granted, and the press were asked not to report the demands.

About four hours into the siege came the first big development: three male hostages seemingly escaped, followed about an hour later by two women. Television footage showed the terrified women sprint frantically from a door and into the arms of waiting police. Two of the escapers were later identified as Stefan Balafoutis, a lawyer, and Elly Chen, a student who worked at the cafe whose Facebook page was, within hours, covered with messages of solidarity and support from her friends.

Reason, watching again from his vantage point inside the Channel 7 newsroom after police had allowed him and a cameraman to return, saw the consequences of the escape for those remaining: “You could see his [Monis’s] face become suddenly very agitated. You could see him screaming at the other hostages.”

Pitch black

Darkness fell, and briefly Reason and the watching police could see everything taking place in the cafe. Then Monis turned off the lights. Inside was now pitch black. Then, shortly after 2am local time, came the sudden, loud and bloody end. A series of loud bangs shook Martin Place. Watching media saw armed police rush in and a series of hostages sprint out, hands held in the air, faces fixed in terror.

Then came the paramedics, bringing out a series of obviously injured people, and 25 minutes later the police tweet: the siege was over. But its end had come, as had been the fear from the very beginning, at a heavy cost. Monis was dead. So was a 34-year-old man and a 38-year-old woman. Four others were injured, including a police officer shot in the face.

– (Guardian service)