Tolerance, acceptance and a `new normal'
Muslim Awareness Week aims to broaden the dialogue in Quebec, Samaa Elibyari writes.
“I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the colour of their skin but by the content of their character.”
— Martin Luther King Jr.
I have a dream that one day Muslims in Quebec will not be judged by their religious affiliation but by the extent of their contributions to society.
When we first landed on the shores of Canada, we were Afghanis, Egyptians, Iranians, Pakistanis, Syrians, Turks. And yet, despite our diverse origins, we were seen as a monolithic group: Muslims.
At one time, I was often asked, with friendly curiosity, if I came from India or Pakistan, presumably because an identifiable marker — dark skin — placed me there. I don't remember reading anything about Muslims, Islam or any related issue in the media. In his book, The Myth of the Muslim Tide, Doug Saunders pins the time when the Muslim brand took shape: the ascension of Ayatollah Khomeini at the head of the Islamic Republic of Iran.
This indeed marked a defining moment for many countries in the region, but what tugged at the heart of Canadians was the saga of the U.S. hostages in Tehran. Over and above this political drama, the biographical book Not Without My Daughter, by Betty Mahmoody and William Hoffer, brought home the notion that Muslims were all one lot, and bad people at that. I heard it in the métro and in doctors' waiting rooms before it reached the confines of our government and permeated our laws within my active career span.
These hostile sentiments have led to documented marginalization, most notably in the labour market, no matter the level of education and language fluency. When I hear of the blame heaped on some Muslims for being culturally isolated, I wonder if they are choosing this isolation or if it is thrust on them. A key factor for integration is employment.
If disadvantages in terms of economic opportunity were not enough, the murderous attacks of 9/11 irrevocably turned us into a dangerous category — the enemy. Since then, campaigns against us have been prolific, relentless and without borders.
In Quebec, we watched in horror as Muslims came under attack in Europe, particularly in France, as well as in the U.S., and found ourselves targeted here, too, by homegrown elements.
After all this, can we as a society pretend to be shocked by the effects? Can we ignore the danger after the tragic events of Jan. 29, 2017, when Alexandre Bissonnette stormed the Centre Culturel Islamique du Québec, killing six worshippers and leaving one permanently crippled?
The real question isn't why, but what to do. Hence the idea of Muslim Awareness Week. We would like this third edition, held during a pandemic, to be an open window that provides fresh air and an unobstructed view of who we are and what we do as Muslim Quebecers. Not unlike the public health measures we have all been following to ward off the virus, we hope our events — from panel discussions and information sessions to documentaries — will serve as preventive measures against societal ills such as ignorance, prejudice and intolerance.
In 2017, the Muslims in Quebec represented nearly 350,000 people, or 4.18 per cent of the total population. We would like to help the wider community recognize our contributions, aspirations and concerns. As the theme of this year's Muslim Awareness week says, “Québec, Parlons-nous! / Quebec, Let's Talk!”
The exceptional times we are going through have taught us the value of solidarity, empathy and reaching out to others with the conviction that we are all in this together. Let this cohesion become our “new normal.”
Muslim Awareness Week runs Jan. 25 to 31. All events are virtual, via Zoom. Visit ssm-maw.com.
A key factor for integration is employment.