Mass killings in other parts of the world have led to serious gun control
On the morning of March 13, 1996, a 43-year-old gunman had entered the Dunblane Primary School and killed 16 children and a teacher, injuring 15 others. The man was carrying four handguns — two Browning Hi-Power pistols and two Smith & Wesson Model 19 revolvers — all purchased legally. The massacre horrified the country and united both major parties. Following an official inquiry, the Conservative government of Prime Minister John Major introduced the Firearms (Amendment) Act 1997, which banned virtually all citizens from owning guns; a year later, Tony Blair’s Labour government expanded the ban to also include.22-caliber, single-shot weapons. There has been no mass shooting in the U.K. since, and Dunblane today is better known as Andy Murray’s hometown. (The two-time Wimbledon champion was an 8-year-old pupil at the Dunblane Primary School at the time of the massacre.)
Six weeks after Dunblane, Australia, too, was struck by tragedy when a 28-year-old went on a rampage in Port Arthur, killing 35 and injuring 23. Two children, aged 3 and 6, were killed along with their mother, execution style. The defense psychologist claimed that the shooter had been inspired by the notoriety of the Dunblane killer. The Australian government, however, needed no foreign inspiration. Prime Minister John Howard’s Conservative government was even quicker than Britain’s in introducing highly restrictive gun laws, passing the National Firearms Agreement within 12 days of the massacre, buying back 650,000 guns within a year. Howard defied his own base and Australia’s gun lobby, which was being secretly supported by the National Rifle Association (NRA) and the Christian Coalition to mobilize Australians against the restrictions. The measures proved effective enough that in the years since, there have been no mass shootings (some have tried to define incidents of family homicide as a “mass shooting” to downplay Australia’s success). The numbers of suicides and homicides also dropped. There were 521 deaths from firearms in 1996; by 2019, the number had fallen to 219.
So successful was this policy that two decades later, when an Australian terrorist resolved to kill a large number of Muslims, he had to move to New Zealand to enact his plot. On March 15, 2019, the 28-year-old shooter shot and killed 51 worshippers and injured 40 at two mosques in Christchurch. The six guns he used were all legally purchased. A week later, Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern announced a ban on semi-automatic weapons, and, on April 10, the Arms (Prohibited Firearms, Magazines, and Parts) Amendment Act 2019 was passed by the New Zealand Parliament with support from all parties except one.
A year later, in April 2020, a 51-year-old Canadian dressed as a police officer went on a killing spree through rural Nova Scotia, killing 22 before being killed himself by the police. Three of the four guns he used had been smuggled from the U.S. But within two weeks, Prime Minister Justin Trudeau had announced a ban on assault weapons.
From Britain to Australia, New Zealand and Canada, mass atrocities have been followed by public outrage and political action. The responses were rational, necessary, inexorable. The link between a public issue and political action seemed obvious. But even as the U.S. mourns the victims in the most recent of its painfully frequent mass atrocities, the grief feels enervated by the certainty of inaction. Even the angriest seem resigned to the fact that a country that could live with the killing of 10 people at a supermarket in Buffalo, New York, 10 days earlier can also live with the murder of 19 children and two teachers at a primary school in Uvalde, Texas. Republicans — the main obstacle to political action on guns — require the bereaved to be content with “thoughts and prayers.” Those who fail are accused of making the tragedy “political.”
“Now is not the time for politics,” they say. But given the frequency of mass shootings in America, where every “now” is preceded by tragedy, this precludes any political action lest it profane the moments whose solemnity the Republicans are eager to preserve. [Continue reading…]
We spoke directly to Wayne LaPierre at the NRA Convention and thanked him for all his thoughts and prayers. pic.twitter.com/EfdDrgD4Af
— The Good Liars (@TheGoodLiars) May 29, 2022