Conclusions

In this study the motive of the perpetrator to advance a particular cause, jihadist rather than anti-corporate views, resulted in participants perceiving greater blameworthiness. This was the case even when the participants, on the whole, neither strongly endorsed terrorism siege mentality beliefs nor supported the expansion of counter-terrorism powers at the expense of violating human rights in the interest of ensuring human security. This result alone is intriguing. It is of particular interest in terms of the possible impact on juries of evidence of the intention to advance political, religious or ideological causes. These data suggest that judges may need to use jury instructions to combat such attitudinal biases against defendants alleged to be pursuing particular motives.

However, as discussed by Gani, Chapter 13 this volume, a decision in Lodhi [45] handed down after the data collection has clarified the legal test to be used when determining the requisite intention. It was held in that case that the advancement of the political, religious or ideological cause attaches to the terrorist act itself and not to the state of mind of the accused as he or she was engaging in the conduct that constitutes the offence.[46] This means that the blameworthiness bias result in this study is most relevant to what Gani describes as the ‘simple cases’: where the accused actually shares the intention to advance the cause via the use of the coercive violence. In Gani’s ‘difficult cases’ where the accused does not share the intention to advance the cause, the blameworthiness effect for motive demonstrated here is less relevant to juries’ liability decisions. However, in ‘simple cases’ the demonstrated bias (that jihadist motives are more blameworthy than anti-corporate protest motives) remains concerning in terms of its residual impact on liability judgments despite the decision in Lodhi and the use of judicial instructions about the relevant legal test. In other words, what will be the ‘touchstone to which juries will intuitively turn when reaching their decisions’[47] in those simple cases? Will it be the view that jihadist motives are more blameworthy intentions than other examples of politically-motivated violence?

It is perhaps unsurprising that the sample surveyed in this study rejected extension of counter-terrorism powers beyond those powers consistent with established principles of criminal justice for non-terrorism offences and those consistent with civil and political rights. It is also perhaps unsurprising that our first attempt to develop a Terrorism Siege Mentality Scale did not produce the same psychometric simplicity as the more general siege mentality scale developed with Israeli samples in the Middle East. However, perhaps a stronger test of the Terrorism Siege Mentality construct would occur with samples of participants likely to endorse siege mentality beliefs to a high level. Based on this sample at least, some Australian undergraduates do not feel alone in the world due to the terrorism threat. It remains to be seen whether the socialisation of siege in other samples at other times can be measured; including measurement of the socialisation of siege amongst political elites responsible for counter-terrorism policy post-9/11, and, perhaps, also amongst perpetrators themselves.




[45] Lodhi v R (2006) 199 FLR 303 (Spigelman CJ, with McClellan CJ at CL and Sully J agreeing).

[46] Lodhi v R (2006) 199 FLR 303, Spigelman CJ (with McClellan CJ at CL and Sully J agreeing) quoted extensively at [80] and endorsed at [90] Whealy J’s judgment of 14 February 2006 (R v Lodhi [2006] NSWSC 584 (Unreported, Whealy J, 14 February 2006) [83] and [103] (see Gani, Chapter 13 this volume).

[47] Gani and Urbas, above n 14.