We didn’t learn from mosque shooting
Next Monday marks a sombre anniversary: one year since a gunman opened fire in a Quebec City mosque, killing six, wounding 19 and forever shattering whatever illusions we held in this country that we are somehow immune from the terrifying forces of hatred reawakening in this world.
For members of the Centre culturel islamique de Québec, where this unspeakable tragedy occurred, this will surely be a painful anniversary. Those whose physical and psychological wounds may never heal will face the trauma of reliving that night of horror.
For society as a whole, this is a moment to stop, reflect and ask ourselves what lessons we have learned in the wake of this ghastly event.
In the immediate aftermath of this heinous crime, there was a lot of talk of “we.”
At vigils and at a memorial service for the victims, the public held aloft handwritten signs that read: “We are all Quebecers.”
Prime Minister Justin Trudeau gave voice to the grief we were all feeling, with “36 million hearts breaking.”
Premier Philippe Couillard projected a unifying message. And he spoke poignantly about the need for self-examination, to look at whether, through our words and actions, we may have contributed to this calamity.
“We’re all responsible,” he said then. “All societies have to live with demons. Our society is not perfect. None is. The demons are called xenophobia, racism, exclusion. They are present here. We have to accept and recognize and act together.”
Finally, we seemed to be on the verge of a moment of introspection.
Donald Trump’s election as U.S. president may have unleashed a wave of open and unabashed xenophobia. But for a decade before that Quebec was in the throes of an unhealthy obsession with reasonable accommodation. After the shooting, we seemed ready to admit how badly it had divided us; that our inability to reconcile the widespread aversion to organized religion with personal faith and individual rights bred contempt; that the hateful us-versus-them rhetoric of identity politics might be dangerous.
Even Quebec City’s notoriously crass radio poubelle commentators, so skilled at whipping up hysteria, paused momentarily to wonder whether they ought to have interviewed a Muslim or two over the years, rather than just trafficking in stereotypes and suspicion.
Couillard, who was lauded in a New York Times editorial for his statesmanship, predicted there would be a “before and after” the shooting.
But a year later, that point of inflection has not materialized. In fact, it seems we have slipped perilously back into old habits. The very demons that led to all this anguish appear to have roared back with a vengeance.
The National Council of Canadian Muslims’ proposal to declare Jan. 29 a day of action against Islamophobia is getting the cold shoulder. It has been rebuffed as too controversial by the Coalition Avenir Québec and Parti Québécois opposition parties, which typically lead the charge on dog-whistle politics.
Couillard wavered before deciding he prefers condemning racism and discrimination in all its forms, rather than against one particular group. Only Québec solidaire supports the request.
Meanwhile, Trudeau, who must make the call on whether to declare the day of action, is also being circumspect. His concern, he says, is provoking a backlash against the Muslim community by those who would deny them their moment of national solidarity.
Do we need any more evidence of how prevalent and potent a force Islamophobia is in Quebec and Canadian society than the political leaders who showed such resolve a year ago now cowering at its mention?
The same statesmen who laid their hands on the quaking shoulders of Quebec City’s Muslim leadership are now afraid to be seen as too sympathetic to the victims of this terrible tragedy.
Efforts to help the community find land for a Muslim cemetery near Quebec City were scuttled by NIMBYism, purportedly.
Couillard has since adopted Bill 62, which is aimed at a tiny minority of Muslim women who cover their faces, even if the Liberal government pretends otherwise. His justification is that his law is less radical than what his adversaries want to do. Or
The very demons that led to all this anguish appear to have roared back with a vengeance.
perhaps it’s really that the 87 per cent of Quebecers who favour the law could boot him from power in the looming election if he doesn’t curtail an expression of religious devotion that makes many uncomfortable.
The prise de conscience was very short indeed.
Those who refuse to acknowledge Islamophobia argue one person pulled the trigger. And indeed, one person will stand trial this spring for this heinous crime. But his motives, too, will certainly be explored, as well as how he came to target members of one religion as they prayed in their house of worship.
Just as for years many refused to face up to the misogyny inherent in a gunman’s decision to murder 14 women at École Polytechnique in 1989, a similar disavowal is taking place as the first anniversary of the mosque massacre approaches. Perhaps we are similarly frightened today to address the prevalence of odious feelings in our midst.
If we can’t call an evil by its name, we can’t fight it. And if we can’t fight it, it will continue to grow.
It will grow as far-right groups like La Meute rise and spread their repugnant, exclusionary and racist world view. It will grow in ignorance and undue scrutiny about the religious beliefs and practices of one group in our pluralistic society. And it will grow in the vicious circle of official denial.