The city of Montreal is drowning in a fog of grief and outrage this morning. Three people are dead, gunned down in what local authorities are calling a targeted attack. The motive remains nebulous, swirling in the ether of speculation. But here in Blighty, the reaction is as predictable as a badger at a bins: the Home Office has ordered an 'urgent review' of counter-terror protocols. Because nothing says 'we care' like a committee.
Let us be clear: three human beings were extinguished, their futures torn from them in a hail of lead. And the British government’s response is to form a working group. I can see it now: a gaggle of civil servants in ill-fitting suits, huddled around a whiteboard, discussing 'synergy' and 'best practices' while the bodies are still warm. It is a grotesque parody of concern, a bureaucratic dance to the tune of 'we’re doing something, please clap.'
Meanwhile, the real questions are left to rot: Who did this? Why? And what systemic failures allowed a killer to acquire a weapon of war in a city where guns are already illegal? In Canada, the land of maple syrup and politeness, gun crime is a rarity. But when it happens, it is spectacularly brutal. The police have confirmed the attack was 'not random' but are staying tight-lipped about the target. Could it be gang-related? A personal vendetta? Or, whisper it, terrorism? The initial reports suggest no, but try telling that to the Home Secretary, who is no doubt frantically Googling 'Montreal' while dictating a press release.
And what of our own counter-terror review? Let us not pretend this is about protecting the public. This is about optics. It is about appearing to take decisive action without actually doing anything that might upset the apple cart. The last 'urgent review' of counter-terror protocols in the UK followed the Fishmongers' Hall attack. Remember that? The one where a convicted terrorist was allowed to wander around with a fake suicide vest and knives? Yes, that review produced exactly nothing. Except, perhaps, a renewed sense of complacency.
The truth is, the British establishment is addicted to process. It’s a drug that numbs the pain of real action. When a crisis hits, the instinct is not to tackle root causes, but to convene a summit. To commission a report. To form a taskforce. It is all a magnificent sleight of hand, a way to appear engaged while the real problems fester. Poverty, inequality, the glorification of violence in media, the utter failure of our justice system to rehabilitate. These are the ur-sins that lead to shootings in Montreal or Manchester. But they are too difficult, too messy to address. Far better to hold a meeting and pat yourself on the back.
Let me offer a modest proposal: instead of a review, why not a minute’s silence? It would be just as effective and cost a fraction of the price. Or better yet, let us donate the money we would waste on this review to a charity that actually helps victims of violence. Imagine that: tangible, material support for those who suffer. It is a radical idea, I know. But then, I am a radical fellow.
In the meantime, the families of the dead in Montreal are left to grieve. They do not care about Whitehall’s protocols. They care about justice. They care about answers. They care about a world where their loved ones are not torn from them by a man with a gun. But they will get none of that from our Home Office. They will get a press release and a mention in the Commons. And that, dear reader, is the true crime here: our utter failure to respond with humanity, substituting a simulation of action for the real thing.
Three are dead in Montreal. The British response is a parody of concern. But the gunman is still at large. And somewhere, another lunatic is loading his magazine, ready to prove that our reviews mean nothing.
