Althia Raj: A violent mood has disrupted politics in Canada. How do we fight back?

Rage, hate and harassment are everywhere in the public square. The Star is looking at the causes and costs - and what can be done to stop it.

Quebec Liberal MNA Marwah Rizqy is eight months pregnant and scared to leave her home without a police escort.

Last month, a man started sending her disturbing Facebook messages. He left voice mails at a neighbouring MNA's constituency office, and repeatedly phoned Rizqy's local police detachment telling them that a murder had been committed on her street, and there they'd find Rizqy's body.

The police identified the man and charged him. However, a judge released him from custody on the condition that he not contact Rizqy.

Rizqy, the national assembly member for Saint-Laurent, who is campaigning in the provincial election, was visibly shaken when she spoke to reporters.

She said she was surprised that someone making clear death threats to an elected official would be let go - and that even the prosecutor and the investigating police officer were surprised. She found it disappointing the judge didn't require that the man undergo a mental health evaluation prior to his release.

Now, Rizqy must decide what to do.

I'm a woman, who is quite strong, but I was in my bathroom and my knees started to bang together. That's when I realized, it's really not normal what is happening."

Police suggested Rizqy campaign from her home.

But door-knocking really can't be done from one's living room. Plus, she has medical appointments to attend.

She's asked the national assembly for police protection and a panic button, such as the ones federal MPs have been given.

For now, though, she describes feeling like a sitting duck. Constantly thinking about the threat against her and how to protect herself, without additional security.

Rizqy's case is just the latest example of the increasingly violent threats elected officials face and concerns the system might fail them.

That's not hyperbole. In 2012, after Parti Quebecois leader Pauline Marois won the provincial election, a man attempted to shoot her during her victory speech. A stage technician died and several people were injured. More might have been killed if the assailant's rifle had not jammed.

Now, politicians at every level of government and from all parties report a mood change across the country - violent, aggressive messages and outbursts previously rare have become all too common.

Politicians shouldn't live in bubbles. They should not be shielded from criticism; they should be aware of it and listen to it.

But criticism is not violence, and violence is what we are too often seeing.

Living with the fear of violence is what we are asking politicians - and in some cases journalists - to do.

That has a direct impact on our democracy. All too often intimidation is directed at women and Indigenous, racialized and gender-diverse individuals. These individuals must decide whether their participation is worth the cost. Then, they may second-guess what they say, what they cover, where they go to minimize the likelihood of a violent backlash (which, these days, seems to emanate from the free speech crowd"). Targets are intimidated from exercising their own free speech, from using their voice, muted in social spaces online or in public.

Living in fear, or with fear, is emotionally taxing. Some - like Calgary Mayor Jyoti Gondek - opened up this week about how they deal with it, choosing, like so many, to compartmentalize their fear, putting it away in their mind so they can focus on their work and family life. Constantly wondering about the threat lurking around the corner is draining.

Fear is not something politicians usually talk about. Discussing one's fear is associated with weakness, notes Gondek. As the saying goes, Can't stand the heat? Get out of the kitchen." But not talking about it may have given the public the impression it is less prevalent.

Last week, in a Twitter thread, Gondek spoke about the intimidation she's experienced on the campaign trail, and at her home. In April, someone left a costume of a dead horse's head on her driveway and black tire marks on her street as they made their 3:30 a.m. drop-off. The horse's head, of course, is a reference to the horse head left in the bed of a character in the film The Godfather." It symbolizes how someone can infiltrate your home, destroy your prized possession - do, essentially, anything to you, at any time.

Gondek genuinely worries today's climate will result in someone getting killed. In an interview with the Star, she was hopeful her vulnerability might spur change. Perhaps, this is a kind of #MeToo moment.

Too many people feel they can go after journalists or politicians without fear of retribution, she said. After the dead horse incident, charges were laid against the owner of the vehicle. But the Crown later decided to drop the charges, because, Gondek believes, the identity of the individual wearing gloves and a balaclava could not be confirmed. Still, she feels the charges should have been pursued, that it would have served as a deterrent," sending an important message about what's acceptable and what isn't.

I feel like the system let us down tragically," she said. If you press charges based on the evidence you have ... and then you have to drop the charges because you don't think it's enough. That's a problem."

While Gondek argued if the thresholds are too high they should be changed, others believe lowering the prosecutorial bar isn't the answer.

Instead, they say, the solution lies in encouraging the police and the courts to take threats - online and in person - more seriously.

If the identity of a person can't be confirmed, Ottawa criminal defence lawyer Michal Spratt told the Star, the Crown definitely shouldn't continue with prosecution."

But often, he said, one of the reasons there is poor evidence, a weak case, or no prospect of conviction is because police don't seem to be devoting a lot of resources to investigation and collection of evidence." They look at anonymous email accounts and say: We can't do anything about it," he said. Investigative work is hard and often the cops don't want to invest the time to secure production orders and search warrants for social media sites that are not based in Canada, or engage in forensic analysis of phones, or look for connections between cases to establish a pattern, he said.

Spratt also says that, unfortunately, police typically take complaints from politicians or journalists less seriously. They blame them as public figures for creating the situation they find themselves in. Female reporters, including at the Star, have complained publicly about the treatment they've received by police when reporting online threats. (The Toronto Police Service declined to offer specifics on investigations, citing privacy reasons and the integrity of its probes. But spokesperson Ashling Murphy told the Star hate crimes are a (police) service priority" and will not be tolerated." She noted police Chief James Ramer had committed to investigating all reported incidents.)

Pam Hrick, the executive director of LEAF, the Women's Legal Education and Action Fund, said women who complain are often asked by the police, What did you do to tick off" their aggressor? The criminal system, and the actors within it, haven't historically been great on crimes that are gender-based violence, and this is a form of gender-based violence," she said.

She suggested the police need to be properly educated on the harms and the violence that this conduct actually causes" and on available avenues for either investigations or laying charges."

This is especially true for online threats, which because of anonymous accounts are often difficult to chase down, she added. The law and the legal system don't always develop alongside advances in technology."

Karen Eltis, an expert in cyber-law at the University of Ottawa, argued the justice system needs to recognize the online world is as real as the physical world. What is important is a shift in mindset, where what is going online is taken seriously."

The shift in mindset that seems to be happening - spurred in part by video last week of Deputy Prime Minister Chrystia Freeland being verbally abused while visiting Grande Prairie, Alta. - is a recognition by the public that something alarming is happening.

Whether it's the bulletproof vests that party leaders in Quebec are wearing or growing calls for federal cabinet ministers to have round-the-clock protection, the notion of Canada as a peaceful place where politicians can stop by the local bar for a pint or go to a restaurant on a date night with their spouse without fearing for their safety is being increasingly challenged.

Yes, as Marwah Rizqy notes, politicians should not feed the anger found across the country for their own personal ambition. They should condemn it, and help calm the situation.

But we also have a duty to check ourselves and our neighbours, to shame unacceptable behaviour, and to demand the justice system ensures a safe space for all of us.

Althia Raj is an Ottawa-based national politics columnist for the Star. Follow her on Twitter: @althiaraj