Two years ago, when Mubin Shaikh first went public with his tale of anti-terror espionage, he was candid about his compensation. He told Canadians the RCMP paid him a cool $300,000 to spy on the “Toronto 18,” a group of young, tough-talking Muslims who liked to camp in the snow (and allegedly plot jihad). But Shaikh insisted, over and over, that cash was not his motivation. He went undercover to protect his country and his religion, not to line his pockets. “I didn’t do it for the money,” he said shortly after the arrests. “I’m not going to negotiate with the lives of Canadians.”
Today, Mubin Shaikh is ready to negotiate. Canada’s most famous informant—the public face of the nation’s largest-ever terrorism trial—is asking for a $2.4-million raise.
In a two-page letter addressed to the Mounties, Shaikh vows to abide by a long list of conditions in exchange for the hefty, “no tax” payment ($2.7 million, minus the $300,000 he’s already received). His promises include no more media interviews, no more drug use, and no book or movie deals. The 32-year-old also pledges to “aggressively defend the evidence and vocally support the role of the agencies involved” in the case, including the RCMP and CSIS, Canada’s spy agency. “This document is intended to be a formal request for further compensation that is ‘deserved and proportional’ to my involvement” in the investigation, Shaikh writes.
The note contains no explicit threats. Shaikh, a married father of five, does not go so far as to say he will abandon the case if the cops don’t cave. However, one of his proposed conditions is a promise not to “bring any legal action against the RCMP/CSIS.”
The authorities have yet to respond to Shaikh’s letter, but this much appears certain: police and prosecutors are growing increasingly impatient with their prized informant.
The timing of his extravagant demand was especially bold. Shaikh sent his note to the Mounties on June 9, just days before his widely publicized testimony at the trial of a teenager charged in connection with the bust. “It certainly makes a mockery of his ‘I’m not doing this for the money’ line,” says lawyer Michael Moon, who represents Steven Chand, one of 10 adults still facing charges. “The Crown’s devout, patriotic witness keeps on upping his price, depending on what trial he’s at.”
Indeed, this is the second time Shaikh has requested a pay hike. In the early stages of the investigation, he happily accepted $77,000 to infiltrate the group. He bugged his minivan, befriended one of the alleged leaders, and famously joined the suspects on a two-week winter camping trip that prosecutors now believe was the genesis of a sophisticated plot to detonate truck bombs in downtown Toronto. But in June 2006, days after the high-profile raids, Shaikh went back to the RCMP and asked them to boost his reward to an even $300,000. They agreed.
Two years later, it’s hard to imagine a repeat outcome. Despite his undeniable charm and outspoken disdain for aspiring terrorists, Shaikh is proving to be as much of a Crown liability as an asset. As star witnesses go, he has become more star than witness. Since the arrests, he has outed himself on national TV, proclaimed the innocence of some of the accused, snorted cocaine on the taxpayers’ dime, and pleaded guilty to threatening two 12-year-old girls. During his recent testimony at the youth trial, he also sparred with prosecutor John Neander, who took the rare step of declaring Shaikh a hostile witness and grilling him on some alleged inconsistencies in his statements. Simply put, the Crown accused its own hired mole of fudging facts to protect the defendant. A few days later, Shaikh went one step further, telling reporters the teenage suspect deserves to be acquitted.
And now, after all that, Mubin Shaikh wants more cash—more than 30 times the
dollar figure he originally agreed to. “You have to be concerned about the motives of an informant whose sole source of income has been taxpayer money,” says defence lawyer Dennis Edney, whose client, Fahim Ahmad, faces more charges than any of the accused. “And if Mr. Shaikh is asking for more money, then it causes further concern that his sole motivation in giving evidence is financial rewards.”
'IT CERTAINLY MAKES A MOCKERY OF THIS "I'M NOT DOING THIS FOR THE MONEY" LINE,' SAYS A LAWYER
This case, of course, already has a controversial history of financial rewards. A second informant, an unidentified businessman who is now hiding in the witness protection program, was paid at least $4.1 million for his covert assistance—and only after the Mounties talked him down from his original offer
of $15 million. At the time, Shaikh had no idea the other spy existed, let alone the fact he was being paid millions of dollars. After the raids, when he did find out, Shaikh claimed to have no regrets. “I’ve got no complaints,” he said in February 2007. “I’m not thinking: ‘Oh damn, I should have asked them for more.’ Nope. I’m happy with everything.”
So what changed? Why is he suddenly so anxious to fatten his bank account by $2.4 million? His answer is typical Shaikh: selfassured, unequivocal, and rife with references to the Quran. “My response is simple,” he said, when contacted by Maclean’s. “This case is huge. It is history being made—legal history, Canadian history and Islamic historyand the burden it has on a person is great.”
Shaikh insists—again—that money had nothing to do with his original decision to become a police agent. “A person who does things for money, money is the number one thing right from the beginning,” he says. “But when I went into the first negotiation I didn’t
go anywhere near a lot of a money. At the time, I had no idea what this was going to entail.” Only now, Shaikh says, does he realize the full ramifications of his co-operation. “This has shaped the rest of my life. The next 10 years are going to revolve around this stuff. It has become a full-time job, and I would like to know who in the courtroom is there free of charge. I’m sure the judge is not there because of his love for justice. I’m sure the media isn’t there because of the right for the public to know. And the lawyers aren’t there because they’re crusading for justice. Everybody is there for a dollar.”
Shaikh wants to be clear: he is not giving the RCMP an ultimatum. If the force doesn’t pay him another dime, he’ll still show up to
testify whenever the adult suspects reach trial (or trials). “That will never change,” he says. “I am ordered by Allah to do the right thing, to tell the truth.” He still believes in the evidence, and he still believes that most of the accused deserve to spend many more years behind bars. But he also believes that his own time and effort—just not his opinions—should come at a fair price. “I do feel that I deserve more,” he says. “Basically, the money is for me because I didn’t go into witness protection. What if I need to relocate the rest of my family because my house is known? The cops wouldn’t even put a deadbolt lock in my
apartment. What makes you think they’re going to do anything?”
Though he is careful with his words, Shaikh is clearly frustrated with the RCMP. “I don’t think the police take me as seriously as they should,” he says. “I don’t think they realize the resource that I am. I’m only interested in increasing their intelligence-gathering and crime-prosecuting abilities. That is my goal, because the last thing I want is for them to not do it properly, get to court, and have it fizzle out.” In fact, Shaikh says he’s no longer angry that Neander attacked him on the stand; if anything, the episode proved he is committed to telling the truth, not following the government’s script. “I work with the police, not for the police.”
Still, Shaikh knows what’s coming. He has no doubt that many in the Muslim community, including some of the suspects’ families, will curse him yet again. The money-hungry traitor needs to buy more coke to snort up his nose. He smiles at the thought. “Those people are terrorist cheerleaders,” he says. “Frankly, I don’t give a rodent’s buttocks what the community thinks—or anybody else. People who do the right thing should not be swayed by what people say or what people think, because the right thing is the right thing. And if the whole community says it’s not the right thing, then the whole community is wrong.” M
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