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When the Chaser team arranged for an American tourist to take snaps of
the Sydney Harbour Bridge, no security guard came to question what he
was doing even after fifteen minutes. When Chas Licciardello himself
dressed up in a bad Arab costume, stuck on a big bushy beard, and
walked onto the bridge with a camera, he was stopped within three
minutes. He hadn't even got to the same spot where the American tourist
had loitered. When the same experiment was repeated at Lucas Heights,
the American tourist took plenty of pictures and was pointed out where
to get security clearance to visit the facility. When the Arab Chas
approached the facility, a security vehicle screeched right up to him
within three minutes, and he was told that no photographs were to be
taken in the vicinity at all.
This is comedy of course, but
comedy is truly great when it rings of truth. When people are
encouraged to be alert to their surroundings, it is not difficult to
imagine which acts or which people will appear most suspect. While we
may laugh at Chas Licciardello being questioned by security, there are
some for whom this is an everyday reality. Some Muslims feel that the
post-September 11 environment places extra pressure on them to behave
very well in public, and become unnaturally conscious of performing
commonplace activities such as disposing of garbage or taking
photographs.
What has contributed to this heightened state of
alert that makes the general community suspicious of Muslims, causing
some Australian Muslims to feel less welcome than a busload of
tourists? Yes, there is that constant concern about the unrelenting
negative media coverage of arrests, raids and searches related to
terrorism and the often unsubstantiated link that is made to Islam
and/or Muslims. There is also the distinctly unhelpful commentary as
well as verbal stoushes between politicians and their desire to appear
to have a tough stance on terrorism, sometimes at the expense of reason
and logic. The most recent example is the Queensland Senate candidate
James Baker calling for "all radical Muslims" to be incarcerated in the
event of a terrorist attack in Australia.
However, the most
significant contributing factor is the anti-terrorism laws that have
been introduced since September 11. These laws have been described as
being too broad, as the definitions in the laws are vague and
all-encompassing. Certainly the nature of prevention requires that some
activities leading up to a terrorist act should be examined and
scrutinised. However, the laws that have been introduced appear to
cover a broad range of activities and situations, some of which are far
removed from any actual terrorist act.
For example, not only
is it an offence to commit a terrorist act, it is also an offence to
recklessly provide resources for a terrorist act; not only is it an
offence to be a director of a terrorist organisation, it is also an
offence to meet or communicate with that director of a terrorist
organisation on two occasions intending to provide support. It is an
offence to train, to finance, or even to possess anything connected to
the preparation or planning of a terrorist act. To avoid committing a
terrorism offence, the mere act of making a charitable donation
requires a careful examination of who you are donating to, what that
money will be used for, or where that money may end up. And as we have
seen in the recent Haneef case, it appears that even giving away your
phone card to a relative because you don't want to waste the credit on
it could mean that you are detained for questioning for more than 12
days, charged with recklessly providing support to a terrorist
organisation, and then having your visa revoked because the Minister
deems that you are associated with alleged criminals.
While
every murder, armed robbery and kidnapping is investigated with the
noble aim of bringing every culprit to justice, it is impossible to
check and monitor every charitable donation and every SIM card. Such
broad offences necessitate some discretion as to how these laws are
applied. Law-enforcement agencies have to be selective in who they
target or monitor. Recent laws have given police the power to intercept
certain communications without a warrant. Phone lines of non-suspects
may be monitored. Video surveillance on everyday activities is
permissible without warrant. Police now even have the power to enter
your premises (trespassing through your neighbour's property if
necessary), search it, photocopy documents and so forth without your
knowledge.
In addition, because the definition of "terrorist
act" requires an examination of the person's motives on political,
religious or ideological grounds, it also requires law enforcement
agencies to judge which ideologies are acceptable. This means certain
groups will be of particular interest to intelligence gathering
communities and law enforcement agencies. Accordingly, it is not
surprising that the overwhelming majority of banned organisations are
self-identified as Muslim organisations. Neither should it be
surprising that the consequent use of police and ASIO powers would be
concentrated on the section of the population that identifies as
Muslims.
However, the problem is that a real terrorist is more
likely to dress in plain clothes than in Arab garb. The misdirection of
attention could lead to oversight that could potentially be
devastating. At the same time, the perception in the Muslim community
that they are being targeted, scrutinised and marginalised by the
government's response to terrorism is counter-productive. This is all
the more so at a time when Australia's Muslims already feel alienated,
marginalised and targeted – there have been six years of relentless bad
press, with or even without the attacks on September 11; they have had
to respond to Muslim gang rapes, Muslim "queue-jumping" asylum seekers,
the Cronulla riots, speaking English, integration, citizenship, Aussie
values, and all the appropriate and inappropriate comments from their
community leaders, representatives and non-representatives. They have
had to defend, explain, excuse, distance, condemn, and at times, it
seems, even to justify their existence.
Justified or not, many
in the community have developed a siege mentality. Some adopt the
mindset of victims, others show manifestations of fear, isolation,
insecurity or even paranoia. Parents are careful to advise their
children not to go to protests, certain classes or certain mosques.
Worryingly, some members of the Muslim community feel as if they are
being watched for their every move. Recent research from Edith Cowan
University has found that since September 11, Australian Muslims are
likely to be afraid of even "being in the city, in their neighbourhood,
or in any public place". Almost half of the respondents to a
small-scale survey conducted by the Australian Muslim Civil Rights
Advocacy Network in 2005 felt they were monitored in some way by
authorities – they believed that their mail was being opened, or that
their phones were bugged.
The Edith Cowan University research
also found that the community experiences "a fear of government" and
"distrust of media" which lead to a closure of the community. It
revealed that some Muslims were suspicious of connections between
government and the media, and the fear led to loss of trust in their
own society.
Each of these perceptions causes ripples of
disempowerment which serve to undermine the spirit of cooperation that
must exist between Muslims, the wider community and the authorities if
terrorism is to be fought and eliminated. More dangerously, if it seems
that maps, snaps, taps and SIM cards can constitute accidental
terrorist behaviour, then it is not just the Muslim community that
should be concerned about the effects of this, but the wider community
also. In fact it may already be the case, if the heavy-handed approach
to APEC security is anything to go by.
Agnes Chong is Co-Convenor of the Australian Muslim Civil Rights Advocacy Network.
Chain Reaction Issue #101 - Special Features on Counter-Terrorism
Also available online.
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