Let mosque bereaved read killer’s interview

The sentencing date for the Christchurch mosques terrorist is set for August 24, which will bring at least a little closure to hundreds of close family members most affected by the massacre. Yet there is another opportunity for the Canterbury Muslim community to make sense of the events of March 15, 2019. With the Royal Commission into the Attack on Christchurch Mosques having interviewed the mass murderer, some of the questions surrounding his crime can now be answered.

For the people so directly impacted – the bereaved spouses and parents, their children, the 40 injured and their families – the killer’s interview responses could be an important bridge along the undulating road of grief they are on.

But the commission is bound by its terms of reference; the interview is ‘‘subject to confidentiality . . .’’ and it is ‘‘not at liberty to discuss the content’’.

The focus of the commission’s inquiry is to identify parts of the New Zealand system that enabled the attacks to occur, but in doing so, other information from the gunman will have come to light. When and how did his Islamophobic interests begin? Who inspired his hatred of Muslims? In his worldwide travels, did he meet any Muslims and what were they like? Questions set out in the commission’s scope about his use of online media, his connections to others, and his life in Dunedin must be answered.

While making a podcast series about their first year after the attacks, I asked four of the widows their views of the man who murdered their husbands. Their responses were as diverse as they are. One wanted to ‘‘look this man in the eyes and ask him – why did you kill my husband? Why did you kill the dreams of such a good man?’’

Another tries not to think about him at all, instead giving over responsibility for her life to her Creator, who predetermined the death of her husband as part of a greater plan. A third widow wavers between wanting to face up to ‘‘the monster’’ and wanting to move on and focus on the many wonderful things in her life, like her children, her spirituality, and her career.

There were similarities in the widows’ stories too. Three were frustrated at how Islam was portrayed, especially since the events of 9/11 in New York City. Like many other Muslims, they commented on the excess scrutiny by security and police, the inflammatory comments from strangers about their headscarves, and the generalised distrust of Muslims across the world, perpetuated by media and people who had never really known a Muslim person.

The Muslim community in New Zealand is very involved in addressing these stereotypes and is of course interested in the murderer’s relationships and influences as he developed his deadly plan.

The need for bereaved families to understand the making of a Muslim-hating mass murderer must be balanced with whether the public has a right to know the same information. Muslims I spoke to share the Government’s legitimate concerns about the terrorist’s vitriol getting even more air and inspiring similar acts of violence. One widow was concerned that, if the interview was publicised, it ‘‘could serve the killer’s agenda in terms of propagating his ideology and methods’’.

Fanning the flames of hatred that gave rise to the massacre is an important reason for the royal commission to keep the killer’s interview material out of the public eye. Bereaved family members who choose to read the interview transcript should therefore be advised to treat the information with confidentiality, provided with only hard copies in a supervised setting, and with non-disclosure agreements.

Not all bereaved families will want access to the transcript of the interview, but many do. In an informal survey in a WhatsApp group of widows, seven of eight respondents said they wanted to read the transcript if they were allowed to.

There’s another possibility. Imagine if the murderer’s words, after 16 months in confinement and without access to the online venom that fuelled his crimes, contained a hint of remorse. Imagine if his words could be interpreted by the families as healing, or even asking for forgiveness. The restorative value of that would be unimaginable.

Without a trial, the sentencing days in court and the commission’s report are all the bereaved families have to answer questions about the man who murdered their loved ones because he hates followers of their faith. They deserve a set of facts and responses that members of the public do not.

We can all read the commission’s public findings on July 31. But for a small group of the most affected, a different, more detailed report should be provided which acknowledges the families’ right to know and helps them make real steps towards a better life.

Imagine if the murderer’s words, after 16 months in confinement and without access to the online venom that fuelled his crimes, contained a hint of remorse.