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5.
"Home-grown terrorists"
On June 2, 2006
the arrests of seventeen Muslim men
and youths in Toronto on terrorism
charges made headlines around the
world. And yet any careful reader of
the news stories which followed
these arrests could not help but be
struck by a number of anomalies. The
case was represented as a major
triumph of police and intelligence
work, and the dangers involved were
underlined by massive paramilitary
theatrics at the arraignment
hearings, including grim-faced
snipers-on-rooftops, and helicopters
thumping overhead. But how were we
to interpret these theatrics? Did
Canadian intelligence agencies
really anticipate that squads of
heavily armed terrorists might
descend on the Brampton courthouse
in a desperate Robin-Hood style
attempt to free their captured
comrades? Or would it be cynical to
think that the state was trying to
panic the Canadian media and the
public at large with this graphic
demonstration of how terrified we
should all be-if not of the
handcuffed prisoners, then certainly
of their shadowy accomplices. The
logic is clear: if the brave and
clever men who dress like ninjas,
carry big automatic weapons and work
in intelligence are worried, then
the rest of us ought to be
gob-smacked with fear.
This message
appears to have got through quite
widely-not least to an American
versifier on the Buzzflash website
who proposed ironically that his
compatriots should stop worrying
about building a fence along their
southern border to stop Mexican
immigration, given what seemed more
urgent problems to the north:
Putting up a Mexican
fence
May
not be the best defense.
Let's
build one near Toronto
And
get it finished pronto.
No-one,
presumably, had told him about the
existence of Lake Ontario.
Snipers and
helicopters notwithstanding, there
turned out to be a bizarre
disjunction between the material
resources the arrested group (if it
was a group) possessed, and what the
Toronto police claimed were their
goals: blowing up the Houses of
Parliament, the CN Tower, the
headquarters of CSIS (the Canadian
Security Intelligence Service) and
the CBC, and beheading Stephen
Harper. For the arsenals of weaponry
revealed by the arresting officers
were distinctly unimpressive. In
addition to five pairs of boots,
they consisted of "six flashlights,
one walkie-talkie, one voltmeter,
eight D-cell batteries, a cell
phone, a circuit board, a computer
hard drive, one barbecue grill, a
set of barbecue tongs, a wooden door
with 21 bullet marks and a 9 mm hand
gun."
Oh yes-and
centrally displayed, a bag of
ammonium nitrate fertilizer, as
evidence that the group had intended
to emulate Timothy McVeigh's feat of
destroying the Murrah Federal
Building in Oklahoma City with an
ammonium nitrate fuel oil (ANFO)
truck bomb. Not that any of the
accused had actually been in
possession of that or any other bag
of ammonium nitrate fertilizer-much
less fuel oil, or an appropriately
configured truck in which to mix the
two, or a detonating device-in the
absence of which ammonium nitrate
makes plants grow, but won't blow
anything up, not even the
headquarters of CSIS. Yet one or
possibly more of the accused had
been lured by a police agent into
making a purchase order of a large
quantity of ammonium nitrate, and
had accepted delivery of some
quantity of a harmless substitute
chemical, at which point the police
swooped.
Most media
outlets found nothing worthy of
comment either in the entrapment of
the accused or in the extreme
sketchiness of the accused
terrorists' equipment. But the motif
of decapitation, which was headlined
in many accounts of the arrests,
ought to have prompted a pause for
critical reflection. This motif
evokes the most lurid misdeed of the
arch-terrorist Abu Musab Al-Zarqawi-who
for several years (until, that is, a
narrative of his extinction seemed
more useful than stories of how he
ran the Iraqi resistance more or
less single-handedly on behalf of al
Qaeda) was represented by the
Pentagon's fabulists as a demonic
Scarlet Pimpernel: that "demmed
elusive" one-legged Jordanian was
here, there, and everywhere.
In the spring of
2004, a fortnight after revelations
about the torture and murder of
Iraqi prisoners at Abu Graib were
headlined throughout the American
media, Zarqawi very conveniently
videotaped himself beheading an
American captive, Nicholas Berg. It
would be an understatement to call
this videotape problematic. Berg,
who had been arrested by American
forces, was acknowledged as having
been in their custody shortly before
his death; in the videotape he is
wearing American orange prison
overalls, while a plastic chair in
the background closely resembles
chairs that appear in Abu Graib
torture photographs. Cries of
anguish were dubbed onto the tape,
but Berg was clearly already dead
when he was beheaded. Zarqawi, his
executioner, whom the CIA described
as having an artificial leg, is
vigorously bipedal, and speaks
Arabic without his known Jordanian
accent. In brief, the video appears
to be a black-operations product,
and Berg a victim of the same people
who ordered the Abu Graib
atrocities.
The reason for
the Zarqawi video's manufacture
seems obvious. It abruptly reversed
the valences of news about torture
and executions, making an American
the hapless victim and a brutal
terrorist the perpetrator. And it
allowed media pundits to argue that
whatever the lapses of a few 'bad
apples' on their side, their
adversaries were wholly barbaric.
Meanwhile, damning evidence of the
responsibility of Bush, Rumsfeld and
other senior officials for
systematic torture in the American
gulag could be flushed down the
memory hole.
In the case of
the Toronto 17, the beheading motif
strengthened associations with al
Qaeda by linking the accused with
Zarqawi-even though, behind the
headlines, it appeared that
beheading Stephen Harper was not a
crime any of them had actually
proposed to carry out, but rather
something an imaginative police
officer had speculated in a synopsis
of accusations one of them would be
likely to want to do.
The outlines of
an interpretive framework-or framing
narrative, if you like-were thus in
place. Like McVeigh, whose method
and object of attacks they are
accused of wanting to imitate, the
Toronto 17 are constructed for us as
'home-grown terrorists'; but the
association with Zarqawi's most
sensational supposed crime makes
them at the same time barbaric
outsiders, with spiritual loyalties
to the Islamist terrorist
international for which his name is
a metonymy. The links to both key
aspects of this framework, we can
observe, are provided by the police:
the first through entrapment, and
the second through mere supposition.
Only some time
after the arrests did the
elaborateness of the entrapment
scheme become apparent. Early
reports made much of an alleged
"training camp" session the group
conducted in Washago, Ontario in
December 2005-one of the leaders of
which, Mubin Shaikh, turned out to
have been a CSIS mole, who has
received $77,000 for his services
and claims to be owed a further
$300,000. Shaikh seems to have
taken some trouble to establish his
'cover' role, agitating so noisily
for the acceptance of sharia courts
in Canada that fellow Muslims urged
him to desist. Yet as multicultural
chair of Liberal MP Alan Tonks' York
South-Weston riding association, he
let the mask slip: according to the
association's website, this "Traveller,
philosopher, theologian ... is not
your ordinary Torontonian. At first
look, one might think they've
encountered an extremist but on
second take, you realize you've been
had!" It would appear that whatever
technical expertise the Toronto 17
possessed was also provided by the
government: a second mole, an
agricultural engineer, "provided
evidence to authorities that the
conspirators had material they
thought could be used to make
bombs."
Most journalists
who covered the story found nothing
out of the ordinary in the fact that
after their arrests the men and
youths were subjected to sleep
deprivation torture-confined in
brightly illuminated isolation cells
and woken every half-hour-by
authorities obviously desperate for
evidence. Nor were they able to
remember that three years previously
another large group of Toronto
Muslims had been arrested on
suspicion of plotting similarly
lurid acts of terrorism-which had
turned out to be no more than
products of the active imaginations
of RCMP and CSIS agents, Toronto
police detectives, and Immigration
Canada officials. In that case, an
investigation called Project Thread
(and re-named "Project Threadbare"
by skeptics) led to twenty-four men
being arrested as members of an al
Qaeda sleeper cell with plans to
destroy the CN Tower, blow up the
Pickering nuclear power plant, and
set off a radioactive dirty bomb.
The allegations were eventually
dropped, and no charges were laid.
And yet the men were held in maximum
security detention for months, no
statements of exoneration were
issued, and seventeen of them were
deported, in a manner marked by
flagrant illegalities, to countries
where the mere suspicion of
terrorist affiliations could have
very dangerous consequences.
There may then be
good reason to suspect that the
Toronto 17 are "terrorists" in much
the same sense as were the father
and son in Lodi, California who,
after being set up by a lavishly
paid agent provocateur, were talked
by FBI interrogators into confessing
they had attended an al Qaeda camp
in Pakistan (or perhaps Afghanistan
or Kashmir) which they located
variously on a mountaintop and in an
underground chamber where a thousand
jihadis from around the world
practised pole-vaulting. Or perhaps
they could be compared to the
infamous "Miami Seven," members of
an oddly un-secretive "Sons of
David" cult who are accused of
having conspired with al Qaeda to
conduct terror attacks "even bigger
than September 11" against targets
like Chicago's Sears Tower: the men,
who had no visible means of carrying
out such attacks, actually committed
nothing worse than the thought-crime
of swearing allegiance to al
Qaeda-an oath that was administered
by their FBI agent provocateur.
One begins to
notice how regularly these
much-hyped terror threats dissolve
into mist and confusion. The vaunted
"UK poison cell" whose members
planned to murder thousands of
Londoners with ricin turned out not
to be a terrorist conspiracy after
all. The "red mercury plot" ended
with another embarrassing but
largely unpublicized acquittal: the
'terrorists', as John Lettice
writes, "had been accused of an
imaginary plot to produce an
imaginary radioactive 'dirty' bomb
using an imaginary substance." The
deployment of 250 London policemen
to shut down an equally imaginary
chemical bomb factory in Forest Gate
resulted only in the near-murder of
a man who, though otherwise
innocent, was indeed both Muslim and
bearded. No less asinine was the
huge international stir in August
2006 over a purported "liquid bomb
plot": most of the alleged plane
bombers possessed no passports and
only one had an airline ticket, and
the bombs that someone in Pakistan
had been tortured into saying they
planned to make in aircraft toilets
are a technical absurdity.
Even in cases in
which large-scale terrorist
atrocities have been perpetrated,
there are serious doubts about the
official accounts of what occurred.
The London bombings of July 7, 2005,
for example, are said to have been
carried out by suicide bombers-a
story that is contradicted by the
testimony of survivors that the
explosions blew the floors of the
underground carriages upward from
below. If the bombs were not
carried onto the carriages, but
detonated from beneath, then the
purported Islamist fanatics said to
have been responsible for these
appalling crimes cannot have been
the actual mass murderers.
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