Earlier this month,
the columnist Mark Steyn went on trial for being mean. Steyn’s offense was to
have published, in the fall of 2006, an excerpt from his book, America Alone, in the Canadian
newsweekly Maclean’s. In it, Steyn
advanced the provocative but by no means untenable argument that plunging
birthrates in Europe would precipitate a demographic
decline, forcing Continental countries to reach an “accommodation with their
radicalized Islamic compatriots.” Europe’s future, Steyn
suggested, “belongs to Islam.”
Islamic radicals, one might think, would be heartened by the
backhanded vote of confidence. Instead, led by a group called the Canadian
Islamic Congress, they elected to take offense. Had they limited their
remonstration to an angrily worded letter to the editor or a rebuttal in
another magazine, they would have been unobjectionably within their rights. But
several of the group’s more aggrieved members decided to press things further.
First, they demanded that Maclean’s
publish an equal-length rejoinder to Steyn’s article – a crude attempt to
dictate content no independent publication would accept. Failing to hijack the
magazine’s pages, Steyn’s disgruntled detractors did the next best thing: they
took the author and the publication to court.
The resulting case brings into bold relief the outsize power
that political correctness and its more ardent executors wield in Canada.
In the United States,
a suit purporting to seek justice for a perceived slight involving nothing more
than a difference of opinion would be laughed out the docket. But tolerance for
legal frivolity seems to increase above the 49th parallel. A
subsection of Canada's
Human Rights Act defines hate speech as speech “likely to expose a person or
persons to hatred or contempt.” By that impossibly opaque standard, Steyn’s
article – or, indeed, any article – could theoretically be considered hate
speech. In practice, as well, that has been the case. The Canadian Human Rights
Commission, which enforces the act, has a record of conviction that recalls the
awful efficiency of Soviet courts: In over three decades of existence, the
commission has yet to find someone innocent.
Undoubtedly mindful of the fact, the Canadian Islamic
Congress turned to the Human Rights Commission to adjudicate its case against Maclean’s. Shopping around for a
friendly forum, the group initially took up their complaint with the Ontario
Human Rights Commission. They met with partial success. Although the commission
declined to hear the CIC’s complaint, it did so on narrowly technical grounds.
And, lest anyone doubt what the verdict would have been, the commission issued
a censorious ruling effectively finding in the CIC’s favor. Reproaching both
Steyn and Maclean’s, the commission
wrote that it “strongly
condemns the Islamophobic portrayal of Muslims” they had supposedly published.
Never mind that neither Steyn not Maclean’s
were afforded the opportunity to contest the charges against them. In the
commission’s crypto-totalitarian calculus, Steyn’s article had offended
someone. Ergo: hate crime.
Even
more fulsomely accommodating was the British Columbia Human Rights Tribunal,
the complainants’ next choice of venue. Between June 2 and June 6, the tribunal
heard the case against Steyn and Maclean’s.
In keeping with historical precedent, one might have expected the “trial” to be
farce on a grand scale. According to those in the audience, it was that and
more.
“You didn’t have to be a lawyer to see how it ridiculous it
was,” says Ezra Levant, who attended the tribunal. Levant
is no stranger to such proceedings. A former publisher of Canada’s Western Standard magazine, he was hauled before the Alberta Human Rights
Commission for publishing the Danish cartoons of the prophet Muhammad. Even so,
Levant was shocked by what he saw at the recent hearing.
Most striking, Levant said,
was the incompetence of the tribunal’s three judges. “You had a room
full of professionals – the two top lawyers in the country [for the defense],
journalists, including from the New York
Times – presided over by three crackpots,” Levant
recalled. “It was a weird juxtaposition between people living in the real world
and a kangaroo court with three radical, Marxist clowns.”
Just how about was it? Levant noted that on one occasion,
the accusers produced blog posts – some from the U.S., some from Belgium, and
none written by Steyn – that they submitted as incriminating evidence. It is a
commentary on the benthic standards of such tribunals that some of this
“evidence” literally had been printed out the day before. “There are so many reasons why that evidence would be
inadmissible,” Levant, himself a lawyer, observes. “But the tribunal said,
‘Sure, we’ll look at it.’ None of the judges knew how to run a trial.”
If the judges were inept, the prosecution was scarcely more competent.
Attempting to prove Steyn’s “Islamophobic” views, the prosecution’s lawyers
summoned Andrew Rippin, an expert on Islam and a professor at the University
of Victoria in British
Columbia. At issue was Steyn’s use of the word
“Mohammedan” to describe Muslims. The prosecution charged that this was
insulting, possibly even hateful. Only, their star witness disagreed. Professor
Rippin pointed out that just as Christians adopted the name of Christ, Muslims
in various parts of the world referred to themselves as followers of the
prophet Mohammed. “The prosecution was so stupid that
their own expert witness made the case for Steyn,” Levant says.
Similarly wince-inducing moments
were a regular feature of the five-day hearing. All the more so if one happened
to be a supporter of free speech. One such moment came when Faisal
Joseph, the lawyer for the complainants, accused Steyn of failing to provide
alternative points of view in his article. In a trial about hate speech, it was
the equivalent of saying that all journalism that didn’t meet Joseph’s
specifications was punishable as hate. Equally revealing was a comment from Dean
Steacy, an investigator for the Canadian Human Rights Commission. When asked
what value he gives to free speech in his investigations, Steacy breezily
dismissed the question. “Freedom of
speech is an American concept, so
I don't give it any value,” he said.
With the tribunal thus revealed as a travesty of justice, Steyn
and Maclean’s wisely decided to focus
their attention on the absurdity of the proceedings. Maclean’s lawyers refused to provide any witnesses. Meanwhile,
Steyn said that he would be happy to loose, if only to demonstrate how far the
Human Rights Commission had gone in trampling on freedom of speech and the
liberty of the press in Canada.
As he put it to one interviewer: “We want to lose so we can take it to a real
court and if necessary up to the Supreme Court of Canada and we can get the
ancient liberties of free-born Canadian citizens that have been taken away from
them by tribunals like this.”
Supporters applaud that strategy. “Six months ago it would have been unrealistic for any
politician to tackle the human rights commission. It would have been like going
after apple pie,” says Ezra Levant. “But a year from now, their reputation will
be so tarnished that politicians can act. The first step to reform is to
publicize its insanity.” In that sense, it may be said that even if Steyn and Maclean’s lose, Canadians have
already won.