Friday, June 18, 2010

Worry Warts

Following the sentencing of Aqsa Parvez's father and brother for her brutal, atavistic murder, a Globe and Mail reader manifests a grave concern:
The atrocious murder of Aqsa Parvez is, among other things, a tragic irony. As a refugee, Aqsa's father, Muhammad, was welcomed into Canada because, in accordance with the United Nations definition of a refugee, he had "a well-founded fear of being persecuted for reasons of race, religion, nationality, membership of a particular social group or political opinion..." Ironically, Aqsa, who clearly had "a well-founded fear of persecution," was not afforded the same protection by Canadian society.

We do need a debate. My fear, though, is that it may result in a call for Canada to close its doors on more refugees, rather than providing the protection needed to those Canadians, immigrants and native-born, who are suffering persecution here at home, in their own own homes.

Donald Smith, Ottawa
Ironically, I don't see much irony in the situation. Instead, I worry that we're letting in "refugees" like the Khadrs and the Parvezes partly on the basis of some lame-brained UN decree. My response:

Letter-writer Donald Smith, who’s concerned that the Aqsa Parvez murder “may result in a call for Canada closing its doors on more refugees,” reminds me of the high-ranking American military official who, in the wake of the Fort Hood massacre, fretted that the biggest casualty might end up being “diversity”.

For the health of our body politic, it might be a good idea to stop spending so much time paying homage to fluffy, feel-good concepts like “multiculturalism” and “diversity” and more time examining the ideology of the actual people we let in the door.
Not that that would have saved Aqsa, who would likely have suffered the same horrific fate no matter where she lived.
Update: Margaret Wente (a blast of fresh air in the stale/increasingly PC precincts of the Globe's op-ed page) has the same worries as me:
...The Parvez family history is not uncommon. Aqsa’s father and her oldest brother arrived in Canada in 1999 as refugees from Pakistan. In those days, it was easy to buy a ticket to Canada, claim refugee status at the airport and be accepted. The Parvez males came from a backward rural town with strict Islamic values and a culture of domestic violence. They brought these values with them. They also set off a wave of chain migration that continues to this day.
In 2001, Aqsa’s father, Muhammad, brought over his wife, Anwar Jan, and their seven other children. Aqsa was the youngest. All the older children were eventually married off to first cousins back in Pakistan, in unions arranged by their father. All the spouses have emigrated to Canada. Thirteen people lived in Aqsa’s house, including three sisters-in-law. Her father’s rule was absolute. The women wore traditional dress. None went past high school and none worked outside the home. They were completely dependent on their husbands.
Aqsa didn’t want to live like them. She wanted to wear Western clothes, go to the mall with her Western friends and get a part-time job. She left home many times, and had left again when she was intercepted by her brother, taken home and killed.
In rural Pakistan, and many other Muslim parts of the world, defiance of male power is as serious as defiance of Allah. Aqsa’s father and brother both told people they were justified in killing Aqsa simply because she was embarrassing the family in front of the neighbours. “This is my insult,” Muhammad told his wife. “My community will say you have not been able to control your daughter. She is making me naked.” As Aqsa’s mother explained to the police: “This is the way it’s done in Pakistani culture. Either they kill the girl or turn her out of the house.” Aqsa’s older sister, Shasma, told police that Aqsa had disrespected both her father and her religion, and that whoever did this to her sister should not go to jail.
Aqsa’s entire family was dedicated to resisting Western values, not adopting them. They were determined to cling to the ways of rural Pakistan. They believed that their community in Mississauga would understand what had been done. And they were right. At the local mosque, where kids of Aqsa’s age attend Islamic class, the kids agreed that she’d largely brought it on herself. The imam did not disagree with them...
Well, why would he, since his mindset and world view are the same as pater Parvez's? The question to ask here: who let in the imam?

1 comment:

Tim Johnston said...

Well, you've said it right there.

Papa Parvez may well have had [yeh right]
"a well-founded fear of being persecuted for reasons of race, religion, nationality, membership of a particular social group or political opinion..."

But he wasn't shy about perpetuating the persecute-y mindset.