How did laughter unite a courtroom of victims — and a terrorist?
The following article may contain details or language which some readers might find upsetting. I will not be using the terrorist’s name.
This week has been the trial of the terrorist attack that happened on two Christchurch mosques in March last year in my homeland of New Zealand. I’ve watched as survivors and the loved ones of the victims deliver their statements in front of a court judge and their attacker.
Some spoke about their heartbreak and longing for the slain, others for the suffering that has become an everyday place in their lives. Some victims expressed their anger, whilst others were even there to forgive the man that killed 51 and injured many more.
But one survivor’s statement stuck out in particular.
Because, in the face of pure evil, in the face of the most deadly terrorist in New Zealand history, this Kiwi roasted him.
This man is Wasseim Daragmih. He and his young daughter were both shot as they approached the Al Noor mosque on March 15, 2019. Both needed many surgeries to recover from their injuries and are lucky to be alive today.
So when Daragmih came face-to-face with the man who did it, you wouldn’t have blamed him for being hurt or angry. But instead, Daragmih took a different approach.
He looked at his attacker straight in the eye and said: “Good afternoon everyone — except you.”
But he didn’t end there.
“…Thankfully we have survived because you don’t know how to use a gun”.
A dose of dark humour that caused the whole courtroom to fill with laughter from everyone, even the terrorist — who quickly realised and covered his mouth in an attempt to regain his composure.
Throughout the trial, the terrorist had been called names. He had been told his attack had failed in creating hate and dividing the country. But at no point had anyone questioned his competency.
Looking someone in their eye and saying they’re shit at something can be really funny. Do it in an as unexpected place as a courtroom and the chances of it being funny are increased. But if the person you’re telling this to is the same person who tried to kill you and the very fact you’re still around to be able to tell them is because they were shit — well, all you can do is laugh.
But why did they laugh? Was it because they were emotionally drained? Or was it the ultimate “if you don’t laugh, you’ll cry” moment?
We use dark humour typically to deal with stress. It helps you see the light side of the situation, to see it from a different perspective, which improves your mood and reduces negative emotion. We tend to lose our sense of humour when we become depressed, so dark humour is actually a sign that you’re coping well with your anxiety.
One study also posits that humour relies on “benign violations”— violating expectations in a safe context. Examples of this include play fighting or tickling, both actions being physically threatening but harmless. It’s a way of playing, safely.
You wouldn’t play fight or tickle when you feel in danger, it’s something we only do when we feel safe. This is the same with humour.
In this case, Mr. Daragmih is making a joke to show he isn’t scared and is coping well, post-traumatic episode. Taking his opportunity to speak in court and standing in front of someone who tried to kill him, he showed that he feels safe.
Even in the most unlikely of places, humour finds its purpose. In a courtroom full of heartbreak, trauma and loss, it’s humour that brought the survivors together — at a time when I’m sure they haven’t had many opportunities to laugh.
Many reports of the trial have highlighted the terrorist’s lack of remorse. He is yet to offer a statement to the victims and throughout the trial, his expression has remained blank. Daragmih’s humour caused this to momentarily lapse. For just a second or two, he couldn’t avoid connecting to the humanity of his victims. A reaction that showed the court that despite his best efforts, he had heard at least one of the people that he had hurt. Perhaps that alone will help the healing process.
Wasseim Daragmih ended his statement saying “I come today to enjoy and laugh as he’s sitting in the dock and me enjoying my freedom…And that’s where you deserve to be.”
The ultimate one of these:
I imagine a full courtroom of both victims and their attacker, all sharing a laugh. Except they were laughing at him, not with him and that’s an important distinction.
Survivors of the attack will have received some closure today, with the terrorist being given a life sentence, without parole. But it will take a long time for the emotional and mental wounds to heal. If it’s within your means, please consider donating to the Christchurch Foundation to help these Kiwis rebuild their lives.
