Leading article: The larger questions behind Virginia atrocity

It is now established that the mass shooting at Virginia Tech University on Monday cost more lives than any such attack in US history. Thirty-three people were killed: students, members of staff and the gunman himself. It is a grim record for this prestigious academic institution to have set, and one with consequences that will inevitably reach beyond the mourning of this week.

Relatives of those who died at Columbine High School eight years ago have given the barest hint of their lasting sense of loss, telling how this latest campus massacre has revived their nightmare. The town of Blacksburg will try in vain to throw off the notoriety of association with the atrocity. This haven of tranquillity in the Blue Mountains will never be the same.

The one assurance everyone can have is that the circumstances of the shooting will be thoroughly investigated. The United States, for all the fault we periodically find with aspects of its politics, is one of the most open societies in the world. The immediate, practical, questions are already being asked, and with no mercy. Was the police operation all it should have been? Why, after the first two fatal shootings, was the campus not sealed off and restrictions on all movement imposed? Why were students not made aware of the danger?

These are all key questions, but a couple of observations are in order. The first is that one, even two, fatal shootings do not elicit the same shock - or prompt the same security operation - as they would in this country. That is doubly true in Virginia, which takes an permissive attitude towards firearms. The second is that the record of the police in dealing with mass shootings on American campuses does not look impressive. At Columbine, intervention was late and chaotic. First information about what happened at Virginia Tech does not suggest that any lessons Columbine might have taught were learnt on the other side of the country. The very localised police authorities that we sometimes regard with envy have a downside: experience is not necessarily passed on - even if, as it clearly is with mass shootings, the lamentable phenomenon is nationwide.

President Bush's decision to take part in yesterday's memorial meeting was an acknowledgement that the massacre at Virginia Tech was a tragedy of national significance. There was little sign, however, that the larger questions raised by this latest mass shooting would be examined as minutely as the smaller ones of the authorities' tactics and response.

We recognise, albeit with characteristic European incredulity, that gun ownership is part of the American way of life and a right that will not be abandoned. There have been efforts over the years, however, to restrict sales of firearms and the types that are permitted. Regrettably, even the timid controls introduced during the Clinton years have mostly been scaled back during George Bush's tenure. More statutory controls might not have prevented the Virginia Tech gunman, but the generally tolerant climate towards firearms can hardly have been a deterrent.

Then there is the nature of US society, which is more divided, more pressured and more ruthless in almost every way than any society in Europe. The Atlantic is, in this respect, a more definitive cultural boundary than it often seems. There are outsiders and misfits everywhere, but communities in the US - be they schools, colleges, businesses, small towns or suburbs - can be particularly unforgiving. So far, the advantages of the American way of life - its vitality and high rewards for success - have been deemed to outweigh the liabilities. Without a cold, hard look at the human cost, however, the massacre at Virginia Tech will be the worst in US history only until the next time.

Interesting? Click here to explore further