Canada: "This Very Sorry Moment'

There are a lot of bleeding hearts around who just don't like to see people with helmets and guns. All I can say is go and bleed . . . It is more important to keep law and order in society than to be worried about weak-kneed people . . . Society must take every means at its disposal to defend itself against the emergence of a parallel power which defies the elected power.

--Pierre Trudeau

THROUGH the week Canada's Prime Minister, Pierre Elliott Trudeau, pondered the most difficult decision of his career. On the surface, the threat that confronted Canada, hardly seemed to merit the label "parallel power." Still, the terrorists of the minuscule Quebec Liberation Front (F.L.Q.), with about 100 hard-core members, had openly defied the government by kidnaping two high-ranking officials and threatening to execute them. First, Trudeau called out thousands of armed troops to stand guard in major cities. Then, because he feared that the Quebec separatist movement (see box following page) would be significantly strengthened and federalism gravely weakened, he decided to move even more forcefully. At week's end, he declared all-out war on the terrorists.

To combat those who "are seeking the destruction of the social order through clandestine and violent means," he invoked Canada's drastic 1914 War Measures Act. Only twice before, during the two world wars, had the act been put in force; it had never been applied in peacetime. Backing up Trudeau's dramatic action was a proclamation by his Cabinet that "insurrection, real or apprehended, exists."

The F.L.Q. evidently saw Trudeau's move as a challenge that could not be ignored. In responding to the challenge, the terrorists amply justified the Prime Minister's description of them as "a new and terrifying type of person." Less than two days after the War Measures Act was proclaimed, the terrorists murdered at least one of their hostages and offered little reason to hope for the survival of the other.

Tipped off by an anonymous caller, police were directed to a message from the terrorists declaring: "In the face of the arrogance of the federal government, we have decided to move into action." With the message was a map that led authorities to a parked taxicab in the Montreal suburb of St. Hubert. In the cab's trunk was the blood-covered body of Pierre Laporte, 49, Quebec's Labor Minister. He had been shot in the head. Still missing was James Cross, 49, British Trade Commissioner in Montreal. It was Cross who was first kidnaped two weeks ago when his maid unwittingly let two terrorists into his home, mistaking them for deliverymen. For his release, the terrorists demanded $500,000 in gold bullion, the freeing of 23 F.L.Q. members from prison, and safe passage for them to Cuba or Algeria. When the government firmly refused to meet the terrorists' terms, the F.L.Q. responded by grabbing Laporte from the lawn of his home.

A Powerful Instrument. Drawn, almost dazed, Trudeau described the execution as a "cowardly assassination" and called on Canadians to "stick together in this very sorry moment of our history." The Prime Minister's reaction to the murder is likely to be forceful, to put it mildly, and in the War Measures Act he has an immensely powerful instrument for applying pressure. Under the act, a large segment of the Canadian Bill of Rights is suspended for up to six months. Police and troops are empowered to make searches, seizures and arrests without warrants, and to hold suspects up to seven days without making charges. The F.L.Q. is formally outlawed. Anyone who attends an F.L.Q. meeting or speaks favorably of the organization is presumed to be a member unless he can prove otherwise--and membership can mean a five-year prison term.

When the act was first put into effect, government forces moved swiftly. All over Quebec, police cars roared through the predawn darkness in search of F.L.Q. members and sympathizers. Nearly 300 people were seized. Among them was a fiery young F.L.Q. sympathizer, Lawyer Robert Lemieux, 29, a sort of Canadian Kunstler with a penchant for publicity and overblown rhetoric. Police also discovered several arms caches, including guns, pistols, bayonets and knives. They found no trace of Cross and Laporte, but messages received from both hostages earlier in the week had indicated that they were then alive and safe. "Decide about my life or death," Laporte wrote to Quebec's Premier Robert Bourassa. "I count on you and thank you."

At that point, Trudeau's mind was just about made up. After canceling a ten-day trip to Russia scheduled for this week, he conferred with opposition leaders, former Prime Ministers, friends and aides in his spacious corner office in the Centre Block of Ottawa's solid gray federal complex. As a lifelong defender of civil liberties, one who helped to legalize homosexuality and broaden the abortion law, Trudeau could not help being disturbed by the draconian powers of the War Measures Act. But there were other considerations. He is a French Canadian from Quebec, but he has always been a staunch federalist, with little sympathy for those who place province over union--and less for those separates who want to quit the union altogether. Moreover, the government was said to have information that the terrorists' next step would be selective assassination of political leaders. Adding to the urgency was the knowledge that over the past year more than 2,000 lbs. of dynamite--9,000 sticks --had been stolen throughout Quebec, and the F.L.Q. was chiefly known for its acts of robbery, arson and bombing.

Sixteen hours after invoking the War Measures Act, Trudeau appeared on nationwide television to explain the move. He delivered perhaps the most effective speech of his career. Referring to the 23 prisoners whose release the F.L.Q. was demanding, he asked: "Who are these men who are held out as latter-day patriots and martyrs?" They included, he said, three convicted murderers, five men jailed for manslaughter, one bomber and several robbers.

Turning his attention to the terrorists, he went on: "If a democratic society is to continue to exist, it must be able to root out the cancer of an armed, revolutionary movement that is bent on destroying the very basis of our freedom." He conceded that the War Measures Act conferred "strong powers, and I find them as distasteful as I am sure you do." But he pleaded for understanding. "I appeal to all Canadians not to become so obsessed by what the government has done today in response to terrorism that they forget the opening play in this vicious game.

That play was taken by the revolutionaries; they chose to use bombing, murder and kidnaping."

Like a Sledgehammer. Most Canadians seemed to endorse Trudeau's action, but there was evidence that some had forgotten who made the opening play. T.C. Douglas of the socialist New Democrats accused Trudeau of using the War Measures Act like "a sledgehammer to crack a peanut." At colleges and universities in Quebec, some students boycotted classes to protest the War Measures Act.

Laporte's execution is certain to inspire revulsion throughout Canada and the rest of the world toward the terrorists. Trudeau's hand will be immeasurably strengthened as a result, and he has demonstrated that he will not hesitate to use his power. The last play of the week belonged to the terrorists, who by their senseless savagery forfeited what little sympathy they had ever commanded. The next play will be Trudeau's, and it is not likely to be a gentle one.

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