Even ‘lone wolf’ attackers have support networks
Violent extremism rarely bred in isolation, notes John McCoy
When an event like the heartbreaking shooting in Orlando, Fla., takes place we struggle to find an adequate description. Did Omar Mateen carry out a hate crime? Was he a terrorist? Or, as we have often heard in the resulting media coverage, was he a so-called lone wolf ?
This is not a trivial point — these descriptions matter, as they build an image of a particular type of violence that not only shapes our individual and collective responses (often fearful or angry), but also how we approach prevention.
There is little doubt that Mateen sought to terrorize with his actions, and with his declarations of fealty to the leader of the so-called “Islamic State” he indicated some political motivations and ideological leanings. He wanted to create fear. He wanted publicity, and he wanted to have a psychological impact beyond those he targeted. In this sense he was a terrorist. But should we think of him as a lone wolf ?
Canada is not unfamiliar with this form of violence. In October 2014, Canada suffered two “lone wolf” attacks — one in Quebec and one in Ontario — which resulted in the deaths of Canadian Forces members Warrant Officer Patrice Vincent and Cpl. Nathan Cirillo. Both assailants were described as lone wolfs. Yet, both Martin Couture-Rouleau and Michael Zehaf-Bibeau saw themselves as part of something bigger — something beyond the image of a rogue loner.
The problem with the lone wolf description is its inaccuracy, since the “lone wolf ” tends to be grounded in some kind of social or organizational network — even if that network doesn’t go beyond a relative handful of individuals. In reality there are extremely few wholly independent violent extremists — a vast majority become committed to violence in a social setting, most frequently among close friends.
The very idea of a lone wolf suggests that individuals become violent extremists independently, that they “self-generate” into terrorists or mass shooters. It logically follows that if violent extremists can self-generate, the threat of terrorism is potentially, perceptually, widespread.
What cannot be denied is that the Internet has created new social networks in which individuals can connect with like-minded individuals and develop an extremist world view. The point then is that even in the very rare cases of “homegrown” terrorism where it is difficult to detect direct, physical, supportive relationships, the so-called lone wolf can find alternative support structures for his or her beliefs.
Take Norwegian Anders Breivik, who in 2011 killed 77 countrymen. Breivik, despite his claims of belonging to an organization of fellow anti-Islamic extremists, is largely understood to have acted independently, although this is disputed by some. What is beyond dispute is that Breivik saw himself as part of a wider social and political movement that shared a militant opposition toward Muslims and multiculturalism in Europe. What differentiated him was that he chose to act on his beliefs through violence.
With this in mind there are really very few, if any, true lone wolves — whether they are connected loosely to an organization, a small social network or online community. What we are really talking about when we speak of the lone wolf is the reality of 21st century terrorism and all the challenges that come with it.
The brand of violence perpetrated by Omar Mateen, and others, represents a significant challenge for national security officials. Yet in almost all of these cases these individuals were “on the radar” because of their connections and actions within extremist circles. Of course, in Canada we were fortunate that Couture-Rouleau and Zehaf-Bibeau did not have access to, among other weapons of war, assault rifles.
With this in mind we should take some solace in the fact that although prevention remains difficult, it is not impossible.