The Mystery of the Lone Wolf Killer

by Unni Turrettini

  The local police, consisting of eight armed men, arrived first at the port closest to Utøya, and although they were trained for battle, when they heard the gunshots from the island, they hid behind a container and decided they should “observe and report” from the mainland instead of getting themselves over to the island. They also heard over the radio that the Delta forces were coming from Oslo and decided it was best to wait.

  After Breivik’s first recorded call to the police emergency number, one of the police cars driving from Oslo was able to contact the local police station. Thirty-eight minutes had passed since Breivik’s arrival on the island. The officers agreed to meet at a place called Storøybrua, almost two and a half miles from Utøya, and not at Utøya port, which would have been closest to the island, and where the local police were waiting. According to Terje Klevengen, head of the Delta forces on their way to the island, they believed they were dealing with three to five perpetrators, all armed with guns and possibly with explosives.

  Sixty-six minutes after Breivik started shooting, Klevengen and his Delta forces set foot on the island. They ran toward the northern part while, unaware of their presence, Breivik walked toward the south. He called the police again, saying he was ready to surrender. Then he hung up and continued to kill.

  The second boat arrived with more Delta forces; hearing shots coming from the south tip of the island, they moved toward the sound, where they met Breivik walking calmly with his hands out to the side, ready to surrender. Breivik was apprehended at 18:34, one hour and thirty-four minutes after he killed his first victims on the island.

  For more than an hour, tourists had risked their lives picking up and rescuing the desperate teenagers struggling to swim and stay afloat in the cold water. Tourists and the local population had also stood on the shore on the mainland to receive the ones who managed to swim or were picked up by the boats, many of them wounded and freezing.

  The ambulances with doctors and paramedics were still not allowed to go down to the dock, as the police didn’t think it would be safe. Only twenty minutes after Breivik was caught were the ambulances permitted to enter the dock and treat the wounded. No doctors or paramedics were allowed to go over to the island to treat the injured there. The police were still looking for other perpetrators.

  In the evening, as the police and paramedics searched the island trying to find survivors and count the dead, there were cell phones ringing and lighting up everywhere. Parents tried to contact their children without getting responses. Adding to their anguish, officials were uncertain how to interpret the confidentiality provisions in the Health Personnel Act. As a result, hospitals were unable to provide police information regarding the victims’ identities. As police counted the dead on the island, they counted some victims more than once. By the following morning, the incorrect death count reported was as high as ninety bodies.

  HUBRIS AND DENIAL

  The “contrast between the inconceivable and the conceivable presents a challenge for a commission appointed to gain knowledge from 22 July,” the report concluded with typical vagueness. Hindsight was not an option, it said, and “no one wants a terrorist to be able to change what is unique, transparent and worthwhile about this ‘little country of ours.’” This ironic statement points out that in spite of its criticism of an obviously flawed system and law enforcement’s reaction to the attack, the Commission members are Norwegians, after all. They do point out that leadership must start at the top, and that the main challenges relate to Norway’s culture and the attitude of its people.

  They state: “We are therefore of the opinion that the country’s leadership, represented by the Government Security Council and the Government’s Emergency Council, must spend more time on awareness of threat and risk levels and on ensuring good interaction and responses in the light of the challenges. . . .”

  The Commission writes that individuals’ actions are influenced by, and depend on, the extent to which the leadership has paved the way for their duties to actually be performed in a satisfactory manner. In society’s quest for scapegoats, the report says, it is easy to forget that imperfect systems can help put individuals in a position to make fatal mistakes. Meanwhile, it is essential to understand the details.

  “A system is by and large the sum of the individuals who take decisions and perform actions.”

  The Commission attempted to put a positive spin on coincidences that had nothing to do with the law-enforcement efficiency. For instance, the summer vacation season worked to the public’s advantage, the Commission pointed out. Had Breivik managed to detonate his bomb earlier that day, or at a different time of the year, several hundreds more would have been present at the scene and possibly dead.

  As unbelievable as it sounds, the Commission also concluded that the call-out response for Utøya was quicker and with a larger operational force than what was normally available on a Friday afternoon. Because of Breivik’s bombing of Oslo, the Delta forces were on high alert and already mobilized. They concluded that had the massacre on Utøya taken place as an isolated incident, fewer and less well-trained officers would have been at work at the police station in Hønefoss.

  For many, the mobile-phone network was the only well-functioning mode of communication that day, but a few weeks earlier there had been a serious outage in large parts of the mobile-phone network in eastern Norway. Again, the Commission concluded that the consequences could have been even more dramatic.

  The attack on July 22 was, according to the report, “exceptional, and a day unlike any other day.” It seems to be saying that the tragedy is in the past, and nothing like it will ever happen again in Norway. But with regard to that day in 2011, “With better ways of working and a broader focus, the Police Security Service could have become aware of the perpetrator prior to 22 July,” the Commission wrote. “Notwithstanding, the Commission has no grounds for contending that the Police Security Service could and should have averted the attacks.” This contradictory statement attempts to appease the outraged population, but at the same time fails to place the blame where it belongs.

  Although the Commission’s proposed changes look good on paper, they are not specific enough. Even in the original Norwegian language, the suggestions for change are vague. What must change—and the Commission touches on it half-heartedly—are the hubris and the culture of denial.

  The Commission found that any failures were primarily due to:

  • The inability to acknowledge risk and to learn from training.

  • The inability to implement decisions and to use plans.

  • The inability to coordinate and interact.

  • The inability to utilize information and communication technology.

  • The inability and unwillingness of leaders to clarify responsibility, set goals, and adopt necessary measures. In other words, the Norwegians think they are untouchable.

  “The Commission believes that the measures recommended will put society and individuals in a better position to face future challenges,” they wrote. “They are inevitable. Accordingly, it is crucial to address the basic challenges. This is urgent.”

  “We are a small country,” Prime Minister Stoltenberg said in a speech right after the attacks, “but a big people. We have a lot of questions. We all demand honest answers. Not to put blame on someone else but the perpetrator. But to learn and to move forward.” It is now up to every Norwegian to ask him or herself: What am I willing to do about it?

  This horrific day has not changed much in Norwegian society. Many of these structural deficiencies have not been remedied, whether it is safety measures around public buildings or police standby in case of terrorist attacks. When the next killer strikes—and he will—Norway’s preparation or lack of it will once again be painfully obvious.

  Norway was not prepared for what happened on July 22, 2011 and, in the immediate aftermath, remained numb and in denial. The price the victims and their families paid for the country’s negligence was tragic.

/>   CHAPTER NINE

  MADMEN OR CRAZED GENIUSES?

  Our shock attacks are theatre, and theatre is always performed in front of an audience.

  —ANDERS BREIVIK MANIFESTO

  As darkness began to veil the island of Utøya, Anders Behring Breivik was held and interrogated in the island’s main building, while, outside the guarded quarters, groups of police, medical staff, and volunteers kept working, using any electric or battery-powered lights available to collect the dead and offer aid to the wounded before they were eventually evacuated by boats and helicopters back to the mainland. Oslo had known of the rampage for hours. Breivik’s name was already on thousands of lips throughout the city and spreading quickly across the country.

  News travels fast in Norway, a small country with just five million citizens. One out of every four Norwegians getting word of the massacre would soon learn that they knew, or were in some way connected to, at least one of the victims in the bombing of the government building or in the shooting carnage on Utøya. And a surprising number of citizens had, at some point, come in contact with Breivik in one way or another.

  All the various foreign groups represented on the “island paradise” that day had lost at least one of their representatives during Breivik’s moment of terror.

  THE MOST HATED MAN IN NORWAY

  As the death toll rose, even Breivik later agreed that he, at that moment, must have been the most hated man in Norway, and it wouldn’t be long before his notoriety would spread worldwide. But in the first few hours of the night following the terror, nobody knew with certainty that an Islamic terrorist cell wasn’t involved. The horrors in New York on September 11, 2001, were still fresh in the minds of the Norwegian citizens. The Norwegian government, through the media, instructed the people of Norway to remain calm. There would be no outright criticism of Islam or the Muslims currently living in Norway.

  Then there was Breivik, the man who was being held as a suspect. The only means anyone had of truly rejecting and punishing him was to reserve their outrage. In this way, the country would show that they bore the accused no sign of harbored hatred and animosity. Such prejudices would be avoided, in order that Breivik be left alone with his murderous soul, deprived of the attention and acknowledgement he craved. A short address by Prime Minister Jens Stoltenberg declared that his country would not respond with premature calls for vengeance, as the United States had done immediately after the attacks in 2001.

  “We must show that our open society can pass this test too,” he declared. “The answer to violence is even more democracy. Even more humanity.” Then, in a moment of what could have been his reflection on the enormity of Breivik’s crime, he added: “But never naïveté.”

  As the night wore on, and Breivik was held on the island, the Norwegian citizenry searched the Internet and watched for reports that would add brushstrokes to the mass murderer’s portrait. Had the prime minister’s words acted as a balm to the outraged? Would anyone be able to eventually get over the horror that had occurred that day? The dead would never come back to their families.

  On Facebook, the curious found postings made two days prior to the attacks. They contained photos of a nice-looking blond man wearing a casual polo shirt in one pose, a full military-type uniform in another, and a formal dinner jacket in still another. The man’s Facebook page revealed his name, Anders Behring Breivik. He listed his religion as Christian, his political views as conservative, and his favorite book as George Orwell’s 1984.

  Not much there. Certainly nothing that pointed to a madman.

  If anyone searched further, they might have discovered that he had posted a warning of sorts on a right-wing website which could have ignited their interest. It seems that this 32-year-old businessperson was warning his audience of a gradual takeover under way in Europe by the forces of Islam. And on his lone Twitter message, he quoted British philosopher John Stuart Mill: “One person with a belief is equal to the force of 100,000 who have only interests.”

  The next morning, Breivik awakened from a short sleep. Superintendent Ørjan Tombre and other investigators must have been fatigued from Breivik’s self-aggrandizing and his self-righteous requests to barter special information about future attacks for certain privileges, such as access to a computer in his prison cell. Tombre, by this time, was probably wondering how they would get this man, accused of killing close to a hundred innocents the previous day, back to Oslo before one of his men decided to break Norway’s ban on the death penalty and carry out a personal execution.

  On Saturday morning, the international media began to swarm into Oslo. Word of a possible third attack had made its way from the island, and most city dwellers were glued to their TVs and discussing the news among themselves. The city had been partially closed down, to discourage the over-curious, but mostly because it wasn’t safe to wander near buildings that might or might not collapse due to the impact of the bomb, not to mention the possibility of another bomb attack. At this point anything was possible. It wasn’t the time to be outside, meandering about, unless one was involved in the official business of restoring order and safety to the city. Near the government center, the area remained stark evidence of the destruction: the building’s front entrance had been sheared off. International media personnel, who knew of this city’s open peacefulness, walked in silence as police and military troops lined the streets, acting as sentinels.

  As citizens and tourists alike took in the devastation, one could feel the questions hovering in the air, which still smelled of sulfur. Who? Why? What would happen next?

  Police had notified Breivik’s mother late Friday night, hoping she might shed some light on why her son would have committed such an act of violence.

  “It could not be my son,” she repeated over and over. She told the police that she had seen him that morning and that he had slept in his room on Thursday night. He had been so calm, she reported. “He’s not the type [to kill anyone],” she insisted. Finally, after being informed of the massive evidence that pointed to her son’s guilt, she did admit that it might have been possible. She blamed mental illness. Far easier than blaming any part of his life that she might have touched.

  When the FBI had visited McVeigh’s father in Pendleton, New York, after his son’s apprehension, Bill McVeigh admitted that it was possible that his son was the perpetrator of the Oklahoma City bombing.

  “Because he’s been so upset about Waco, it probably wouldn’t surprise me if he was involved in this,” Bill McVeigh had said.

  “THAT AIN’T ME”

  Unlike Breivik, who deliberately called the authorities and knew they would not use deadly force on him if he surrendered, McVeigh knew that he had to get away from the crime scene in order to have a chance of surviving, so he kept on driving his escape car away from Oklahoma City.

  About seventy-five miles from the disaster area, nineteen-year-old Oklahoma Patrol trooper Charles J. Hanger noticed a battered Mercury Grand Marquis without license plates passing by. He directed the driver to pull over, and McVeigh complied. Hanger wanted to know why McVeigh had no license plate. McVeigh explained he’d just bought the car. When Hanger asked if he had insurance, registration, or a bill of sale, McVeigh explained that everything was being mailed to his address.

  As he handed over his driver’s license, Hanger noticed a bulge under McVeigh’s jacket. “What’s that?” the trooper asked. When McVeigh said it was a gun, Hanger held his own weapon to McVeigh’s head and confiscated the 9-mm Glock, as well as a clip of ammunition and a knife attached to his belt, and told McVeigh he was under arrest.

  McVeigh had a concealed-weapon permit in New York, but it wasn’t valid in Oklahoma. Hanger put the handcuffed McVeigh in the police car and called his dispatcher to run a computer check on the driver’s license and the Glock. McVeigh did not have a criminal record, nor was the pistol stolen.

  Hanger locked up the Mercury and took McVeigh to the Noble County Jail in Perry, Oklahoma, where he was booked on four m
isdemeanor charges—unlawfully carrying a weapon, transporting a loaded firearm in a motor vehicle, failing to display a current license plate, and failing to maintain proof of insurance. No one had any idea that he was the bomber.

  Although the charges were relatively minor, McVeigh had to wait for his day in court. Because Judge Danny G. Allen was tied up in a lengthy divorce case, McVeigh’s bail hearing was delayed until Friday, April 21, two days after the bombing. Had he been tried in a timely manner, McVeigh might well have escaped. As the sheriff’s office was listening to the news of the bombing and the first description of a possible suspect was given (a white male, somewhere between five feet nine and six feet one), one deputy looked over at McVeigh. “That ain’t me,” McVeigh laughed. “I’m six-two. Listen to that description.” But the delay of the bail hearing allowed more time to be devoted to the identification of the bomber.

  In Virginia, at the FBI’s behavioral-science unit, specialists were working hard to establish a profile of the bomber. Most of the investigators were convinced that the bombing was the work of foreign terrorists, but not Special Agent Clinton R. Van Zandt, a psychological profiler who had worked as chief FBI negotiator at Waco, Texas. Van Zandt noticed that the date of the attack, April 19, 1995, was exactly two years to the day after the deaths at Waco had occurred.

  He believed the perpetrator would be white, male, and in his twenties. Furthermore, he was convinced that the suspect would be a military man and possibly a member of a fringe militia group. Terrorism expert Louis R. Mizell, Jr. noticed that the date coincided with that of Patriots’ Day—anniversary of the Revolutionary War Battle of Concord, which was celebrated by those who believed in the militia movement.