In Denys Arcand's latest film, Days of Darkness, the protagonist is left in complete malaise after his wife leaves with the kids and his job engenders in him cynicism rather than satisfaction. At speed dating, he meets a quirky woman who enjoys dressing up and attending Renaissance fairs. Thinking it harmless and looking to score points with the new beau, he heads to the fair and is surprised to find a world where people leading banal lives adopt historical alter egos with religiosity. In a mob scene led by an RCMP officer in a monk's robe, the medievalists chant together in support of creating a pseudo-Crusade against their country's invaders.
Disenchanted with their country's changing demographics, these people delved into fantasy and role-playing to articulate their urges. Reflecting on the heated scene, no one would discredit the serious undertone to their games, and while dress-up is not a criminal offence, some might even advocate placing light surveillance on their activities lest the monsters under the bed come out to see the light of day.
Yet the same logic is not being applied to the confusing case of the 11 young men facing charges after the so-called Toronto 18 arrests. They face lengthy proceedings on multiple terror charges, some quite sensational. A number of pundits and letter-writers have suggested that these young men should be written off as harmless because of their amateur indulgence in war games and role-playing. They were not risks to national security, not true terrorists. A myriad of facts are supposed to support this: They did not have a large network of members; there was no considerable financial pool at their disposal; they were merely wannabe al-Qaeda with no real connections; they were just a bunch of kids, save for a couple diehards. These may all be proven true.
Recently, Western states have appeared overly eager to prosecute people terror-related allegations. Combined with the abuse reports from Guantanamo Bay, many Canadians who believe in upholding civil liberties have knee-jerk rejections to any terror allegations, presuming them to be overblown. Thus, it becomes very attractive for average citizens to rally behind the Toronto 18 as village idiots being tormented by an overzealous state.
When Mr. Justice John Sproat of Ontario Superior Court considers his decision on the first part of the case this summer, one might wonder what place he will give fantasy in his interpretation of Canada's presently untested anti-terrorism laws. Will fantasy be something that discredits a person's cause, suggesting they're a mere video-game enthusiast whose violence will never leave the basement? Or will he allow a broader definition, considering fantasy the catalyst for a considerable action?
The first category tends to include gothic suicide pacts that amount to nothing, paintball enthusiasts who've had one too many and big talkers looking to seem sensationalist. The latter category are the people who make history. No one can deny that Napoleon, Adolf Hitler, even Pierre Trudeau all had outrageously ambitious youths full of wide-flung statements and grandiose visions. Likewise, biographies of billionaires Donald Trump, Richard Branson and David Geffen make them out to be dreamy megalomaniacs. And yet, they did not succeed in spite of their fantasies - but because of them.
Then there are those who fall into a grey area. This is the area where the Toronto 18 would have fallen into had they committed the crimes they are accused of plotting. They would have been a motley crew of far-fetched terrorists who succeeded against the odds. The grey area consists of the basement loners who actually achieve something worthy of international repute - the history-makers.
A notable denizen of the grey area is Timothy McVeigh, the veteran who displayed his dissatisfaction with the U.S. government by perpetrating the Oklahoma City bombing. Another example more familiar and closer to Canadians is the 2003 rape, murder and dismemberment of Toronto 10-year-old Holly Jones by 35-year-old Michael Briere. He explained how he was grossly enthralled by the child pornography on his computer and fantasized about committing such acts. One day, seeing the child pass by his window in solitude, he figured he'd give it a shot. He falls into this category because he was very banal, yet succeeded in his goal: a video-game dreamer who decided one day to take action.
To invoke a self-professed failed human being like Mr. Briere in the same page as the Toronto 18 is not to suggest that these men who are innocent until proven otherwise bear any resemblance to him, but to show that it's very simple for simpletons to do things that are far from simple.
Only the facts, interpreted fairly through the law, will reveal whether these men are guilty of the accused charges. To hold their fantasies against them, no matter how destructive they may be, is not a legitimate pursuit - that would be policing thought. Many Canadians murder their in-laws in their dreams every night. However, to ignore someone's lofty intentions because they do not have the resources is to ignore the innumerable triumphs of the underdog throughout history.
If Judge Sproat does use fantasy as damning evidence in such a trial, the debate Canadians must then publicly have is over the point when pre-emptive strikes slide from rushing in just before a crime is committed to imprisoning people for their ambitions, whether delightful or dark.
Anthony Furey is a Toronto writer. anthony.furey@utoronto.ca