KEEPING CANADA’S PARLIAMENT SAFE
Two years after a gunman entered the Parliament building with a rifle and was shot dead, security has been completely overhauled
Michael Zehaf-Bibeau should not have been able to get into his car after gunning down Cpl. Nathan Cirillo at the National War Memorial.
He should not have been able to drive a short distance along Wellington Street. He shouldn’t have gotten past the Parliament Hill gate openly carrying a rifle. He shouldn’t have been able to hijack an idling ministerial car.
He shouldn’t have gotten into Centre Block and he sure shouldn’t have gotten down the Hall of Honour and to within 40 metres of the prime minister attending a caucus meeting.
Ironically, Stephen Harper and Tory MPs that morning had been discussing legislating new anti-terrorism powers, what would soon become Bill C-51.
The failure to stop an amateur terrorist, armed with and old leveraction rifle, a handful of bullets and a knife, was stunning.
Once in the Hall of Honour, Zehaf-Bibeau was quickly felled by some of the 56 bullets fired by police and parliamentary guards. Their actions were exemplary, even heroic. But the archaic and disjointed system under which they operated created a dangerous opportunity Zehaf-Bibeau unwittingly exploited.
Parliament Hill doesn’t look much different today. Tourists pose for photos by the Centennial Flame, antiabortion crusaders, gay marriage protesters, school kids, yogis and Falun Gong pamphleteers are out in force.
But there, in the midst of the pedestrian throng, stands one of a handful of Mounties with deadly, made-in-Canada Colt C8 carbines slug across their chests. It’s the only place in Canada where federal police routinely and openly carry such heavy firepower.
The officer belongs to the 16-monthold Parliamentary Protective Service, or PPS, created from the Hill’s three separate and now-defunct security forces — House of Commons Security Service, Senate Protective Services and RCMP Parliament Hill unit — under the single operational command of the RCMP.
When Zehaf-Bibeau commandeered the parked ministerial car in front of East Block, parliamentary guards outside the East Block entrance had no way of radioing RCMP officers in front of Centre Block, less than 100 metres away, that a clear and present danger was barrelling their way. Their radios weren’t interoperable.
Nor could they or the RCMP officers communicate with Ottawa police, on a different radio system, converging on the National War Memorial. Even the House of Commons plainclothes security detail operated on a different radio channel than the uniformed House guards.
What’s more, three separate Hill security command structures (four, counting Ottawa police), each possessing only one-third of the overall operational picture, compounded the communications problem.
A central RCMP command centre, where senior officers from various agencies were supposed to co-ordinate, control and support the frontline commanders, was itself hobbled by a complete void of investigative details of what was happening on the ground. What information the centre did receive was often conflicting, making informed decision-making in short supply.
It wasn’t until that evening, more than eight hours after Zehaf-Bibeau had been killed, that senior commanders at the command centre were able to confirm he was the lone shooter.
In the aftermath, four separate, independent reports were produced. In all, 160 recommendations were made, most of which remain classified.
The two most important — a unified security force under a single command and an interoperable communications system — are now reality.
The wrought-iron fence running the length of Parliament Hill along Wellington Street is an original security feature, as is the wide expanse of open lawn, a 19th-century military practice developed by the Royal Engineers.
Now, post- Oct. 22, three beefed-up layers of physical defence are visible. Manned police vehicles dot the Wellington perimeter, each responsible for an overlapping line of sight down to Wellington, west to Bank and east toward the Château Laurier.
A second defensive line of police vehicles and officers is positioned along the roadway in front of the Peace Tower.
Dozens more uniformed men and women of the PPS form the third layer, guarding the entrances, offices, corridors and the “assets” within Centre Block, East Block, the Victoria Building and more than 30 other sites within the parliamentary precinct.
And, in the words of RCMP Commissioner Bob Paulson, “We’re armed to the teeth.”
But is that the same as saying they are prepared for anything? Moving vehicle bombs, stationary vehicle bombs, weaponized aerial drones, walking suicide bombers, hand-placed bombs, mail bombs, people throwing rocks, Molotov cocktails, hand grenades, rocket-propelled grenades, light anti-tank weapons, covert entries, and chemical or radiological agents slipped into the building’s water and ventilation systems? The haunting possibilities seem endless, sadly.
More than $8 million worth of heavy metal retractable bollards, installed in 2013, guard the three main vehicular gates against a four-wheeled assault. Above, security cameras gaze out from the rooftops. (They captured Zehaf-Bibeau’s dash through the bollards and across the Hill that day, but otherwise were completely ineffective.)
Unseen is a new PPS intelligence unit that liaises with domestic and international police and security agencies. The information it gathers determines the PPS’s daily security posture.
But vulnerabilities always remain, namely a busy public space enveloped within a highly symbolic target.
How do the people in charge take what amounts to a military approach to security in a civilian environment and make these historic buildings and the seat of Parliament unassailable without turning the Hill into a bastioned fort?
Maintaining the site’s openness, vitality and aesthetics means accepting a certain amount of risk. The challenge is figuring out a reasonable level at an affordable cost.
RCMP Chief Supt. Michael Duheme, a muscle-bound southshore Montreal native, is director of the PPS, operating on a $62-million annual budget. Most of the money is an amalgamation of the former budgets of the House, Senate and RCMP Parliament Hill security units. Its operational manpower strength is kept secret.
The former House and Senate guards are now all armed with Glock and Sig Sauer 9-mm handguns, wear distinctive PPS uniforms (patrol vehicles in PPS livery are coming, too) and are trained to RCMP standards. The biggest remaining pre-unification leftover is three collective bargaining contracts.
Duheme, 51, reports to the Speakers of the House and Senate on administrative issues and to the RCMP on operational matters. The PPS executive also appears before the standing committee on procedure and House affairs.
What would happen to Zehaf-Bibeau today?
“Without a doubt, he’d be stopped at the gate and then we’d proceed with a complete lockdown of the Hill,” Duheme told the Citizen this week.
Duheme acknowledged some may find the sight of police openly carrying automatic assault weapons on the Hill too aggressive. “I just think it’s a sign of the times. In Europe, it’s part of the culture.
“We could erect a wall 10 feet high, but that’s not the image of Canada. Is there a happy medium? Maybe.”
With Centre Block scheduled to close in 2018 for a decade-long renovation, PPS has asked Defence Research and Development Canada (DRDC), the science and technology arm of the Defence Department, to help develop a security plan for the future.
“What will the threat look like in 10 years time?” said Duheme. “That’s what we have to look at. We want to be able to influence what goes into the Centre Block, but also on the ground to make it safe for the 4,000 employees, parliamentarians and the three million visitors.”