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An environment of Islamophobia

Nationalism, bigotry and political apathy encourage hate rhetoric against Muslims

Following the Christchurch mosque shootings in New Zealand on March 15, people continue to mourn the 50 victims that were slain. Among the victims was Hamza Mustafa, a 16-year-old aspiring veterinarian, Arif Mohamedali Vohra, a man who wanted to see his recently born grandchild, and Abdelfattah Qassem, a pillar of the community. That day, the victims just wanted to pray in peace.

Those affected by the shooting were just people who wanted to practice their faith during Friday prayer, be with their community, and return to their loved ones afterwards. But all of that was taken from them. At the forefront of the shooting is a rhetoric of hate and dehumanization of Muslims that is pervasive in politics and in the media. A framework has been perpetuated that situates Muslims as people who need to be regulated, managed and kept at a distance from Western countries.

Images of Muslims portrayed across media depict a monolithic group, uniquely oppressive culture, and lack any history besides a nebulous idea of a universal Islamic theology. In their theorization, political pundits paint an image that discounts the vastness of Islam, opting to create a fictitious idea of a uniform ideology that all Muslims share.

Conservative commentator Ben Shapiro—who allegedly inspired the shooter before the attack on the Islamic Cultural Centre in Quebec City—argued in a PragerU video, makers of popular conservative “educational” videos, that there are more “radical Muslims” than people believe. Shapiro clearly argues that that there is a collective radical movement throughout the Muslim world, that hate America and the West.

Al Noor Mosque, the primary target of the shootings, refutes this idea; worshipers come from diverse backgrounds, like India, Pakistan, Palestine, UAE, and people born and raised in New Zealand. Each person embodies a rich history of Islam, that differs in practice, theology and lifestyle. Islam is only a part of their identity. As Muslims, we are as multifaceted as any other people; we have different interests, aspirations, dreams, and we don’t always agree with each other.

However, the media’s narrative eradicates the nuance and diversity in Muslim people’s lives.

Rhetoric, foreign policy and media coverage create a narrative that dehumanizes Muslims, enforcing an image unrepresentative of people’s lived experiences. The New York Times columnist Bret Stephens, infamous for his notion of “the disease of the Arab mind,” illustrates the unnuanced, ahistorical analysis of Muslim majority countries that is prevalent in popular discourse, a type of analysis that hinges on geopolitical strategy.

In an article published in September entitled “To Thwart Iran, Save Idlib,” Stephens sets the stakes for the battle of Idlib, a besieged city in Syria, listing ways countries will suffer from the battle of Idlib: “Europe, which could face yet another refugee crisis even as the effects of the last are felt in the resurgence of the far right.” In this strategic framework, Muslims are blamed for the rise of far right bigotry that in turn discriminates against Muslim people. With no dramatic flair, Stephens calls for the bombing of the Syrian Air Force, discounting the fact that civilians will be killed in the process. Muslim people seemingly have no agency in this worldview—we are merely a small part of a grand strategy that Western nations develop under the advisement of “experts” who have tangential knowledge of the diversity of the Muslim world.

The strategic rhetoric and analysis conducted on Muslim countries blames the rise of the far right in Europe on refugees, a supposed problem that intersects economics, culture and demographics, rather than analyzing the roots of the far right. Politicians and pundits stoke Islamophobia—as well as other forms of white supremacy—as a means to gain power. Moreover, policies are implemented as a method to gain economic and political power over Muslim countries.

The rise of hateful rhetoric revealed deep-seated forms of white supremacy. Nigel Farage, one of the champions of Brexit, and many others in the leave campaign, trafficked in anti-Muslim bigotry, using “swarm” imagery to frame refugees and migrants travelling from Muslim majority countries to the UK. Brexit emboldened bigots and brought anti-immigrant rhetoric to the forefront. The normalization of white supremacy rhetoric has tangible negative effects on Muslims living in Western countries.

In the EU-MIDIS II, a report by the European Union Agency for Fundamental Rights about Muslim discrimination, 27 per cent of respondents have experienced some form of harassment for being Muslim, while 39 per cent of the respondents felt some form of discrimination five years before the study. In another European report by the Organization for Security and Co-operation in Europe, it is stated that hate crimes committed against Muslims typically increase after a terrorist attack and target Friday prayers. Both reports also mention how hate crimes are underreported due to the lack of trust in the effectiveness of the policing system and lingering feelings of shame. The hate Muslims are facing is well known to government agencies, however, people are seemingly supporting or apathetic to the injustice.

We are faced with increasing hate against Muslims and it is important to remain vigilant against forms of white supremacy. This process does not stop at voting; we also need to hold politicians and public figures accountable for their words, actions and policies they implement. It is not enough for politicians to talk about immorality of discrimination—their stance should be reflected in the policies they implement.

Beyond the realm of electoral politics, there needs to be a radical shift in the way Muslims are depicted. Muslims are diverse. We span many countries, and have different ideologies. It is not on Muslims to share their stories to help white audiences understand that we are people. The power rests with people who have influence on media, academics and foreign policy.

Rest in peace to all the victims affected and condolences to their families.

Graphic by @sundaemorningcoffee

Categories
Student Life

My religion: My Muslim faith

One Concordian’s honest portrait of what his faith means to him

As a Canadian-born Muslim, I’ve learned to live and grow in this country during one of the most trying times for Muslims around the world. Faith seriously entered my life when I was eight years old. My father had just been diagnosed with lymphoma and leukaemia, and his situation was quite dire.

We had been a relatively religious family up until this point, going to the mosque most Fridays and spending time within the Muslim community. However, my father’s sickness deepened our faith. We heavily relied on God and on our knowledge of the Islamic faith to get through that hard time.

Warraich’s father and brother

At the worst point of his sickness, it seemed not much more could be done, so my father planned a visit to the holy city of Mecca. There, he performed the Islamic hajj pilgrimage—a must for any Muslim before they die. After his pilgrimage, my father had a miraculous recovery, which further solidified his faith, and our family’s faith.

Religion is all around us. For thousands of years, it has been a driving force behind civilizations and understanding societies and the people who fill this planet. Sadly, it has also been the cause of many acts of war, genocide and persecution—whether it is a group of people using religion as a front to further their own political motives and agendas, or a group being persecuted for following a particular religion.

It seems to me that, these days, people increasingly dislike the concept of religion. Many cite it as outdated and the cause of the barbaric acts of violence we have all seen throughout the world.

I have found it difficult to refute these ideas in discussions with nonreligious or atheist people. Many who don’t practice any religion know very little about religion. As such, I believe when people see images and videos of people carrying out acts of violence in the name of religion, they paint a picture of that religion based solely on the brutality—ignoring all the positive sides of religion.

Islam is based on five pillars all Muslims should adhere to. The first pillar is “ shahada,” a declaration that there is only one God, and the Prophet Muhammad is the last of his messengers.  The second pillar is “salat,” a prayer Muslims perform five times a day. The third pillar is “zakat,” which means giving charity to the poor and to those in need. The fourth pillar is “sawm,” which is the act of fasting during the holy month of Ramadan. The final pillar is “hajj,” the pilgrimage to Mecca.

These pillars represent the basis on which Islam was created. Growing up, my parents really emphasized the importance of kindness and generosity.

“This should be the focus of your time here on earth,” they’d say.  Islam’s pillars reinforce kindness. This is why faith plays such a big part in my life. Many people say: “What if it’s all fake? And you’ve lived your life trying to be good all for nothing?” Yet, that is the point of Islam and many other religions in the first place—to sacrifice, and live your life for others, having faith that this is your purpose.

Warraich’s father (top left), with his siblings and other relatives

For me, regardless of whether it’s all fake or not, religion has taught me these key principles. To be kind, generous, empathetic, honest and to help people, regardless of their faith. Living with these ideals and trying to uphold them regularly is, in my opinion, a good way to live your life—this is regardless of what you feel happens after we die. This is why I find religion so powerful.

On Jan. 29, in la grande mosquée de Québec in Quebec city, six men, four of whom were fathers to young children, were massacred as they stood for evening prayer. The term I want to introduce here is “shahid.” This word is used to denote a martyr, a person who has died fulfilling a religious commandment.

Though people will say these men were not fighting for Islam in the typical way we think of today, these men are the brightest and most valued of Muslims—innocent, humble and hardworking fathers who were taken from this world and from their children too early. We must not forget what happened almost 10 days ago, we must not forget the names of these men, and we must always remember what they and their families were forced to go through in order to shed light on the problems our society faces. May they find their way into eternal paradise and may their families be lessened of the burden they now face.

Categories
News

“No hate, no fear, everyone is welcome here”

Vigil for Quebec City shooting victims unites more than 1,000 people

Abdelkrim Hassane, Mamadou Tanou Barry, Khaled Belkacemi, Aboubaker Thabti, Ibrahima Barry and Azzeddine Soufiane—those are the names of whom a crowd of more than 1,000 people gathered for outside of Parc metro station. It was an act of solidarity against terrorism, racism and discrimination.

Abdelkrim Hassane, Mamadou Tanou Barry, Khaled Belkacemi, Aboubaker Thabti, Ibrahima Barry and Azzeddine Soufiane—those are the names of whom a crowd of more than 1,000 people gathered for outside of Parc metro station. It was an act of solidarity against terrorism, racism and discrimination.

These six men fell victim to an act of terrorism committed at a mosque in Quebec City where many community members had gathered for an evening prayer on Sunday, Jan. 29, according to the National Post.

The demonstration, organized by the Association des Musulmans et des Arabes pour la Laïcité au Québec, began at 6 p.m. on Jan. 30.

“Tout le monde déteste les racistes, tout le monde déteste les racistes,” the crowd chanted, over and over.

Claire Caillat, a participant at the vigil, said the large crowd validated the fact that many Canadians and those living in Canada are strong and determined to fight against racism. “This is proof that racism cannot divide us,” she said.

Mohammed Ahmed, another participant, said diversity is an important component of what makes Canada the nation it is today. “Without it, Canada would be tasteless,” he said.

Photo by Savanna Craig.

“People from all over the world come here to contribute to society,” said Ahmed. If we separate Canada in terms of race and culture, Canada will no longer be Canada, he said.

“I’m not surprised that people support the Muslim community because a vast majority of Quebecers do not hold intolerant views towards these minority groups,” said Alex Tyrrell, leader of the Green Party of Quebec and Concordia student who attended the vigil. “It’s really a fringe element of society that holds these discriminatory views.”

Tyrrell criticized the media for providing a presence for and profiting off of intolerant, extremist, right-wing views. “They’re often writing columns against trans people, against women, against minority groups,” said Tyrrell, using the example of journalists Mathieu Bock-Côté and Richard Martineau. “They’re constantly fanning the flames of these issues.”

I think that that’s something that needs to change as quick as possible because we see what kind of impact these have,” said Tyrrell. “There has been many other hate crimes that have been committed in Quebec over the past few months and years.”

Photo by Savanna Craig.

As some participants began to disperse around 7:30 p.m., many others gathered around a large red tapestry that read “Make Racists Afraid Again.”

“No hate, no fear, everyone is welcome here,” chanted thousands of participants in unison during the vigil.

Photo by Savanna Craig.

Sentiments of peace and acceptance filled the air throughout the evening, voiced by a crowd made up of all different races, backgrounds and religions.

The crowd later dispersed from outside Parc metro and moved East along Jean Talon.

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