Religion and secularization
After the fall in 1960 of the ultra-conservative political party, the Union Nationale – which had protected the status quo of the Catholic Church and controlled many of the province’s social services – and the Liberal party’s rise to power, Quebec went through a process of rapid secularization. This period, known as the Quiet Revolution, involved a major reconceptualization of French Canadian identity, which, aside from becoming more closely tied to Quebecois nationalism, disassociated itself from its foundation in Roman Catholicism. Public services, such as education and healthcare, were taken out of the hands of the church and became the government’s responsibility.

Theories of secularization follow two main streams of thought with respect to religion. When dominant religious organizations undergo transformations from their traditional and ritualistic systems of teaching to appeal to modern audiences, members may choose to branch off into a sect, seeking to restore the faith to its original form. Peter L. Berger, a sociologist of religion, suggests that this splintering will weaken the establishment of the dominant religion and lead to its demise as a whole. However, given the persistent importance of religion to society, it seems far more likely that religious pluralism strengthens religion in general. Rodney Stark and William Bainbridge, sociologists of religion and the authors of A Theory of Religion, argue that these schisms will actually reinvigorate the religion from which they stem. These various smaller groups will fulfill the various nuances followers need while providing a new outlook and way of presenting the same material. However, there is a threshold for what can be changed within a religion for it to still be considered under the institution’s umbrella. When the core beliefs and material are changed, the new religion can be labelled a ‘cult’ – a term often considered derogatory by people involved in these religions.

Susan Palmer, a sociologist focusing on new religious movements in the department of Religions at Concordia, alleged in an interview with The Daily that Quebec is a comparatively good place for new religious movements to start and grow. “Quebec is a really good place if you are a new prophet and you want to set up your religious organization. […] There is a kind of void that new religions rush into opportunistically,” says Palmer, describing the state of the province since the sixties.

Unlike the stances of many advocates for religious minority rights, who often experience the provincial government’s policies on religious minorities as xenophobic and racist, Palmer seems to take a very positive, idealistic attitude toward the policies. She claims that there are attempts at accommodating and providing a safe space for the growth of these religions and that the diversity in Canada has a large influence on the variation within these new religions’ doctrines and practices. “You have communities from the Middle East or India or Latin America in Montreal, and they bring in their religions with them and their religion’s experts. […] They want to find ways of translating their virtues, or making [them] attractive, or hooking up with issues that they are interested in. And you know, sometimes it has [an impact] on their religious rituals or beliefs, so in fact there are religious communities that are transformed by society, compromising their beliefs, and then they’ll be called cults because they are somehow a bit different from what they were originally.”

Palmer suggests that the predominant Roman Catholicism in Quebec is generating “quasi-Catholic groups that you wouldn’t necessarily have in [British Columbia] or Alberta.” Like other mystics and messianic figures, these were “people [who] were naturally inclined toward spiritual experience or [who] seek religious solutions to personal [and social] problems,” says Palmer. Some of the most prominent of these “outstanding Quebec messianic figures” include Jean-Gaston Tremblay, whose quarrels with the Catholic Church led him to split from the institution and establish the Apostles of the Infinite Love. There he would set up the “new Vatican” in St. Jovite, Quebec, and be declared Gregory XVII, the legitimate Pope of all Catholics, by his followers. Also splintering off from the Catholic Church was Marie-Paule Giguère, who founded the Army of Mary or the Community of the Lady of all Nations. She is believed to be the incarnation of the Virgin Mary, directly contradicting the Vatican’s belief in Mary’s bodily ascension into heaven and their rejection of reincarnation as a whole. Both movements have been rejected by the Vatican and deemed “heretical,” but who still choose to align themselves with Catholicism as a whole.

Another interesting manifestation of new religion stemming from Quebec is in groups that associate themselves with Quebecois nationalism and environmentalism. “For example, we have this group […] that believes that Quebec was protected from ecological disaster and that the francophones would exist after the rest of the world had been destroyed. […] They say that Quebec is the safest place in the world because it has a solid bedrock,” says Palmer.

We forget that many of the religions we consider legitimate and demand tolerance for today were in their early years accused of the same immorality and heresy and not considered “respectable.”

“Not real religion”
Despite these new religious movements being sociologically very similar to the institutionalized ones, they don’t seem to be granted the same legitimacy by the public. Sara Parks, director of McGill’s Office of Religious and Spiritual Life (MORSL), explains this in an interview with The Daily, by stating that “many of these religions are the same as any other.” She continues to explain that although there is not an abundance of people with new religious faiths seeking out services at MORSL, the organization is still very willing to make the space accessible to those with beliefs alternative to the mainstream. A large part of this seems to be our conception of what a ‘real’ religion constitutes. The established religions “claim [these new faiths] are not religions or they are ‘heretics.’ So you will find Christian ministers saying Scientology is not a religion, because they do not even believe in God, [or that] the Raëlians don’t believe in God or the soul. You’ll have [people] criticizing Pentecostalism, because [it is] a different type of Christianity,” says Palmer.

These attitudes are reflected in public opinion and are fueled by the mainstream media, which stamps them with the ‘cult’ label. This does not necessarily reflect the sociological sense of the word – which just distinguishes a new faith – but seems to carry adverse implications, and is applied in a derogatory fashion to connotate illegitimacy and inferior morality. Palmer highlights the “brainwashing argument” as often-used. She says, “Another criticism is that they somehow get people to join through illicit, sneaky means, or undue influence. […] So, the criticism is that people do not choose to join, they are kind of tricked to through technology and brainwashing. The brainwashing theory has been heavily criticized by psychologists, there is nothing valid or scientific. The whole point is, when a ‘weird’ new religion gets people to join, they are brainwashing, but if a ‘nice, respectable’ old religion like the Catholic Church gets people to join, then that is a deep, spiritual conversion.”

We forget that many of the religions we consider legitimate and demand tolerance for today were in their early years accused of the same immorality and heresy and not considered “respectable.” Palmer compares Quebec’s situation to the anti-cult movement in France, which enshrines these attitudes at the government level, as there is a ministry to suppress cult formation. “There is very heavy persecution of religious minorities going on in France, and to some extent this is important to Quebec, because there are attempts to import these kind of attitudes. You find visits from these ministers, who are part of the ‘anti-cult ministry,’ who come to Quebec and work with election groups. And you find certain journalists who have contacts here, and you have Quebec journalists who follow the lead of French journalists. Another thing is that groups that were heavily persecuted in France have fled and are now in Quebec, where they have a more tolerant climate,” says Palmer. She mentions that she is unaware of any major organized initiatives similar to those in France. “There is a kind of anti-cult organization in Montreal called Info-Secte, but the director […] seems more interested in cult awareness.”

Despite these new religious movements being sociologically very similar to the institutionalized ones, they don’t seem to be granted the same legitimacy by the public.

Raëlism in Quebec
The Daily contacted several newer religious movements in Montreal to learn about their experiences trying to establish themselves within the larger community. The Church of Latter Day Saints, a Mormon church and the River’s Edge Community Church – both in Notre-Dame-de-Grâce – and the Church of Scientology were contacted, yet none seemed as eager to be interviewed as the representatives from the Raëlian movement.

After going through several levels of communication, I finally got to speak with Raëlian Bishop Nicole Bertrand, who has been part of the [Raëlian] movement since 1980. She discussed her abandonment of Catholocism with The Daily. “I was raised in a Catholic family and then I took my distance when I was a teenager. When I was allowed not to go to church, around 18, I stopped going. […] I was told by my parents, by my teachers, ‘stop asking questions, the questions are too complicated. Some theologians, they study for years and years and years and they still don’t have answers. It’s too complicated.’” However, she mentioned her continued curiosity in humanity’s creation. “I was always wondering: Where do we come from? Where are we going? What is the purpose of life?”

The Raëlians believe that human beings and all life on earth were created by the Elohim – extraterrestrial beings. They left life forms on Earth with what Bertrand called “intelligent design,” which would evolve into all the present life forms. Raël, top leader or the “Guide of all Guides,” says that he is the last prophet in a long stream of prophets including Jesus, Moses, and Buddha, who he claims mistook the Elohim for god(s) and angels. Although adherers of these religions may disagree, Bertrand says, “This is why this is a universal message that can give light to all of the past religions.”

Bertrand’s opinion on the receptiveness to their new religion in Quebec contrasts directly with Palmer’s view that the province is a generally positive place for these faiths. “In the beginning, in 1980, it was growing very fast. And now, in the past ten years it has stabilized. […] Because of the media mocking Raëlians about ten years ago, we are targeted all the time.” As with many new faiths, the media attacked Raël for brainwashing his followers and stealing their money. Critiques specific to Raëlism include claims that the movement stirs up controversy for media attention and to increase membership. Examples of such controversies include the use of the swastika in order to reclaim its historical meaning of good luck and peace and claims of successful human cloning. While Palmer suggests the claim of controversy for the sake of membership, to Bertrand this is “completely false.”

Bertrand explains that the media’s attack on Raël’s followers is demeaning and that the situation is portrayed as “the intellectual manipulation of poor, fragile, vulnerable people who are in a ‘depressed’ state of mind. [This] doesn’t hold because we all have jobs, we all have a family, we all live in our private space. We gather once a year and we have some meetings on the weekend to which we are allowed to go or not go. So we have our total freedom. Our colleagues and family members don’t see unbalanced people, ‘crazy’ people.” She defends her choice to donate money as well, “When people ask me, ‘Do you give money?’ I say ‘Yes, I give money. And? Do you have a problem with me giving my money?’ It’s my money. […] It’s my freedom and I’m never forced to give any money. I give what I can, when I can. We all do. And there is no consequence. If one year I cannot contribute, there is no consequence.”

Bertrand alleges that such accusations have tarnished the reputation of Raëlians in the public opinion and have led to persecution. “Canada and Quebec brag that they are nations that respect democracy and human rights. Not in your workplace. […] Some of us lost our contracts when they found out we were Raëlians,” says Bertrand, who herself lost a job because of her religion. The employer told her she should have brought up being a Raëlian, and when she said he was not even allowed to ask her about her religion, he said that his company “doesn’t want to be associated with Raëlians.” Of the incident, Bertrand states, “It shows you how narrow-minded people are. We question. We try to understand the story of God, we try understand the nature of God. We can question the singularity of God. Those people go to church and say God is one, but we say God is many. They say God is immaterial and we say the Gods are material. They say we are evil and they cancel our contracts.”

The Raëlian movement exemplifies the persisting antagonism that new religious movements still experience in today’s supposedly ‘tolerant’ society. While Quebec may be a healthier environment compared to other places, it does not negate the fact that there is very real persecution of religious minorities, especially ones which have not been established or that the public does not recognize as real religions.

The post Reconceptualizing Higher Power(s) appeared first on The McGill Daily.

On February 12, attendees convened at “The Face of State Violence and Police Brutality in Palestine,” the latest workshop in the Quebec Public Interest Research Group (QPIRG) McGill and the Students’ Society of McGill University (SSMU)’s Social Justice Days 2015 series.

Facilitating the workshop were Maggie Gilligan and Zahra Habib, members of McGill Students in Solidarity for Palestinian Human Rights (SPHR), a student organization that advocates for the rights of the Palestinian people.

The workshop offered an overview and discussion of the ways in which state violence and police brutality are used by Israel against Palestinians as part of a larger apartheid project.

The event began with a discussion of the ways in which state violence manifests visually in the lives of Palestinians, illustrating how these effects originate from institutions, such as the Israeli government and the Israel Defence Forces (IDF), as well as ideologies like racism, Zionism, and settler-colonialism.

“What’s important to understand is that these are not isolated incidents,” said Habib, referencing the Israeli government’s disproportionate use of force. Habib cited the Dahiya doctrine, which calls for the use of asymmetrical warfare as a means of deterrence. Habib said that, although this doctrine violates the principle of proportionality in international law, it manifests itself on a daily basis for Palestinians through large-scale aerial raids (such as in Gaza last summer), home raids and demolitions, and arbitrary arrests, even of children.

Gilligan told The Daily that this kind of workshop is an important counterbalance to the dehumanizing effects of the Israeli and Western media. “The state violence perpetuated by the Israeli government is a very important part of the narrative of the Israel-Palestine conflict, and it is a part that is missed at best and silenced at worst,” she said. “So we think it is important to put forth the voices of civilians and children who have been harmed by state-sanctioned policies, and make sure everyone’s story is being told.”

One topic discussed was how to unpack the way Israeli and Western media tends to dehumanize Palestinians, and portray instances of state violence as responses to Palestinian dissidence.

In the discussion, workshop attendee Nadir Khan asserted that the world knows Israelis are using disproportionate force against Palestinians, but the magnitude of the violence and damage does not seem to resonate enough for the international community to demand change. Khan went on to question what students could do to bring about concrete change.

“The state violence perpetuated by the Israeli government is a very important part of the narrative of the Israel-Palestine conflict, and it is a part that is missed at best and silenced at worst.”

Ralph Haddad, a U2 Middle Eastern Studies and Women’s Studies stdent and former Daily editor, suggested countering the Israeli public relations machine as a method. “We should employ emerging media that exist outside of that sphere to further our own cause […] because Israel is known to employ students and employees in giant operations, using Facebook and Twitter and social media to spread propaganda to gain sympathy for the IDF. There is no way to counter that without stopping [the perpetration of] our own rhetoric.”

Haddad also stressed the need to recognize the connections between Palestinian struggles and other struggles. Intersectionality “makes us stronger,” he said.

During the workshop, Gilligan highlighted increasing awareness of the intersectionality between black struggles in the U.S. and those in Palestine, as both governments respond to dissent with similar repression. “It’s important to make this connection because they stem from the same place and I think a lot of similar strategies can be used to combat them. And again another direct link is that one of the police forces that was used in

Ferguson to calm protesters was trained by the IDF. So we have the policy links, the theoretical links, we also have a lot of direct links that are a lot closer than we think.”

The post Understanding state violence in Palestine appeared first on The McGill Daily.

Anonymous – U2 Science
The concept of home has been foreign to me all my life. It’s what I’ve heard people talk about when they were going ‘home’ for the break or ‘home’ to see their family, but for me home was a feeling that ran through every vein in my body. I guess I just inherited my parents’ displacement: I inherited their perseverance, determination, and longing for the day we would return ‘home,’ heads high. As a third-generation Palestinian, all I knew of my home were numbers, statistics, and death tolls on the news. Numbers. Numbers that I couldn’t even fathom until middle school and couldn’t understand until high school, while I was living a privileged life of safety, education, and comfort in Saudi Arabia. Being so distant came with the guilt and self-resentment of having access to all the luxuries that others my age in my homeland would never experience.

And when I finally visited Palestine, I swiftly passed the thousands of Palestinians on the King Hussein Bridge, who had been waiting for days to get past the borders to see their families. While I, the privileged holder of a Canadian passport, was welcomed into ‘Israel’ with open arms. Being able to just briskly cut through the line in my separate air-conditioned bus, sipping my Starbucks and reading Albert Camus, is something that I, to this day, cannot get over. The guilt is overwhelming.

For the first time in my life I saw people behind those numbers. Furthermore, the numbers came to life as apartheid walls and illegal settlements next to my hometown, Hebron, checkpoints, and the displacement of tens of thousands of people. My people welcomed me into their humble homes, shared their food with me, and let me sleep in their beds when we hadn’t even met before. “We knew your grandfather,” they said. “His grandson is our grandson, and our home is yours.” In that moment, I finally understood how it felt to be home.

Do not be mistaken. My honesty is not a call for sympathy. I write this solely to help you put a name to the faces you see on the news, as a reminder that the occupation of Palestine is not a distant foreign issue – it’s here.

I’ve screamed “Free Palestine” at protests and I’ve always worn a chain of the Palestinian map around my neck, but I’ve never really known ‘home’ until I had actually been home. Seeing the plight of my people, I realized that the only way to overcome my guilt is to use my privilege to help those less fortunate than myself. McGill – although not the most accommodating of places – has opened doors for me in order to achieve this: through the amazing friends I’ve made and through the groups I have been working with to advocate for Palestinian rights. I won’t stop screaming, I won’t stop calling people out, I won’t apologize for my activism until I return home; but with a Palestinian passport, through Palestinian borders, on the same bus as my Palestinian brothers and sisters.

كيف ما ضربتو بيجي واقف
“No matter how hard you hit it, it will stand.”

Nour Nahhas – U3 Arts
“Write down! I am an Arab
I have a name without a title
Patient in a country
Where people are enraged
My roots
Were entrenched before the birth of time
And before the opening of the eras
Before the pines, and the olive trees
And before the grass grew.”
– Mahmoud Darwish

It was a warm Damascene night when my grandfather sat me on his lap and began telling me stories of a place he called “home.” At the time, I was eight years of age and was struck by confusion as I realized he was not talking about Damascus. My grandfather continued to describe his experiences as a little child running around the streets of the Old City, befriending Jews, Muslims, and Christians. He reminisced about the days when he played in the backyard of his house or around the Al-Aqsa Mosque after completing Friday prayers with his father.

As he spoke of 1948, the look on his face dramatically shifted from a sweet nostalgia to that of disappointment and anger, though it never touched on hate. He was driven out of his home during Al-Nakba [which literally means “the catastrophe” and refers to the Palestinian exodus].

From that day forward, I have carried with me the pride of being half Palestinian. I was born and raised in Damascus by a Syrian father and a Palestinian mother. I have cousins who were born and raised in the Occupied Palestinian Territories and further extended family who refuse to ever leave. Growing up I had learned that a cousin of mine had once been shot and wounded during the early 2000s. Soon enough, my nickname at school became “tiflet al-hijara” or “stone-child,” due to the eruption of stone-throwing by Palestinian youths during the second Intifada. Despite the giggles it brought to my closest friends, I could not have been more proud.

My position had never been contested back home and my stance on Palestine was never challenged due to the homogenization of the Arab mentality regarding the occupation. I was surrounded by people who constantly and collectively pushed me deeper into supporting the Palestinian cause – whether it was family, school, the media, or other members of civil society. After moving to Canada at the age of 17, I became exposed to the other side of the conflict, which without a doubt, I had regarded as fallacy. However, hiding behind my keffiyeh was not enough to refute an argument made by a Zionist. I became more interested in the history of Palestine; I was eager to read, analyze, and defend my cause, rather than unquestioningly enforcing it on a younger generation of Arabs through Pan-Arab rhetoric.

It troubles me to know that I have yet to discover half of my identity without being able to see, hear, smell, or touch any topographies of its land firsthand. I have to rely on my grandfather’s photographs, my cousins’ storytelling nights, and the daily ruthless images shown on the news to understand what I am fighting for. The quest for this missing portion of my identity will continue to trouble me until the day I walk down the streets my grandfather played in, climb the olive trees planted by my ancestors, and show my own children the boundaries of a wall that once divided the Occupied Palestinian Territories from the rest of its historical land.

From the golden dome of Al-Aqsa to the mosaic walls of Umayyad, my identity stretches across disputed land known for its people’s generosity, religious tolerance, and ethnic pluralism. Today I am a child of conflict, oppression, and occupation; I am a child of persistence, resistance, and struggle. However, in the near future, I shall become a child of tranquility, prosperity, and finally, a child of peace.

Adam Albarghouthi — U3 Science
I was born in Kuwait, grew up in Jordan, and now I live in Canada, yet I refer to myself as a Palestinian. An erratic and anchorless introduction to say the least, but that’s how it is. The Palestinian name is somewhat of a self-determined identity today, it’s barely tangible, but as a people full of pride and hope, it is being moulded over the decades into something bigger than itself. Our name is what we have left, that’s what we live for, and that’s what we struggle to keep alive. I could say we’re a people of unfortunate circumstances, but the way I see it, we’re running an endurance test. With every military checkpoint that must be crossed, every curfew, every bit of humiliation, we pass this test every single day. And as for the Palestinians that live abroad, we carry the Palestinian name wherever we go. Regardless of the foreign documentation we pull out at customs, our blood flows and our hearts sing, we are Palestinian.

Anonymous – U2 Student
I remember saying goodbye to the family that I have not seen again to this day, their last words still echoing within me. As I said goodbye to my parents, their words, too, I have not forgotten. As I left each person I had ever known who identifies as a Palestinian, they have all said the same thing: upon facing adversity while at McGill, they told me to stay true to who I was. But it was more than academic hardship that they meant, and I only fully understood this once I arrived in Montreal. They were telling me to never forget where I came from.

Being Palestinian is something I have never hidden. Despite the fact that I was never raised there, it has consistently been my immediate answer, without hesitation, as to what my origin is. I owe this pride in my roots to the resilience that the Palestinians have demonstrated for the past 65 years, to the continued fight for what is rightfully theirs, and to the tenacity in the face of human rights violations that have somehow gone unnoticed, undocumented, and unpaid for.

Time and time again, I have been asked whether I am afraid that the stranger I have just met is a Zionist. I cannot lie, on many occasions the thought has crossed my mind – but it has never instilled any fear within me. After encountering countless situations like this, I would like to believe that I have grown beyond the naive ideal that I can change the opinions of those who do not listen, or those who disregard my own experiences and still cite religious texts for validation of murder. Presenting evidence on a factual basis is the only path toward understanding why the plight of the Palestinian people still exists to this day without meaningful intervention.

Each time I announce my heritage, I usually receive positive responses. Overwhelmed with questions, a flame ignites within my heart because I am asked about Palestine. I am not asked of my fears, but rather about the truth. I am asked about what it is like to visit – the checkpoints, the terrorizing soldiers with guns everywhere you look, the restrictions on which land you can and cannot enter. I am asked about my family, and although those asking are strangers, they are believers in humanity and thus care for the wellbeing of a human, whomever they may be. That is what is important. That is what we overlook so often: that we become lost in the politics of war and forget that we are human first and above all else.

Yasmine Mosimann – U1 Arts
I’ve been trying to write this piece for the past three days, but it has launched me into a bit of an existential crisis. If circumstances were a bit different, I may not have ever identified as a Palestinian. If blood were the determining factor, it certainly would not have taken as much of a precedent. I have three other nationalities to call my own, with passports that allow me access to most places without question. I did not grow up around my Palestinian family or other Palestinians. I speak a broken Egyptian Arabic that Palestinians laugh at. The blonde peach fuzz on my forearms isn’t particularly ‘Palestinian-looking’ – whatever that is. And I certainly wasn’t born in Palestine. Yet I don’t feel closer to any other nationality than my Palestinian one.

Palestinians are in the uncomfortable predicament that there once was a Palestine and that there could have been a Palestine. We live knowing that our families once had a deep connection to a land where our ancestors had lived for generations. Growing up with this knowledge feels like something much greater was stolen away from you besides the land, the olive trees, and the shores of the Mediterranean: a sense of belonging, that minorities may not be able to feel fully in countries out of their origin, without completely ridding themselves of their distinct heritages. This tension between integrating and keeping your culture is still present in societies that claim to value diversity, like Canada.

I grew up in constant envy of everything permanent around me. 15 apartments, ten schools, ten father figures, and four countries later, I am here with very little sense of being grounded. But as selfish as it sounds, in a way, my sense of not belonging has been healed by my people’s displacement. Because in our exile, I feel an affinity with the common feelings of loss, but also hope for the future. A free Palestine, for me, would not only ground an entire people as a collective, but also myself.

The post Voices of Palestine appeared first on The McGill Daily.

One of the first Syrian refugee families of the current crisis who were sponsored by the Canadian government, Jassem moved to Canada with his wife and three sons this June, sponsored by the Canadian government. He and his wife live together in an apartment just off the island of Montreal, which their sponsor helped them find. Also arriving in June, Eiad Herrera and his newlywed wife moved here a month after the rest of his family arrived in Canada. Unlike the Dandashis, the Herreras are being given support by a sponsorship agreement holder, a private organization. While the two families are very different in terms of size, age, and religion – the Herreras being a young Christian couple without children from Syria’s capital Damascus, and the Dandashis a large Muslim family from the western city of Homs – the same sentiments seemed to be shared when asked about what it’s like living in Canada. The response was, “I feel like I’m human.”

***

The Canadian government has agreed to resettle 1,300 Syrian refugees by the end of 2014, following a call by the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) for countries to take in 30,000 Syrians by the end of 2014, the majority of whom are to be privately sponsored by sponsorship agreement holders (SAH). SAHs are usually religious, ethnic, service, or community organizations. As of this year, there are 85 such groups that received SAH status from Citizenship and Immigration Canada, 72 per cent of which are associated with churches. These groups submit sponsorship applications to the government on behalf of refugees, and once the immigration order is approved, help support the integration and financial needs of the refugee. The government has committed to supporting 200 of the most vulnerable individuals, specified as children, religious minorities, homosexual people, and women facing sexual assault.
The government, however, has come up against heavy criticism by refugee advocates. The federal budget cuts to refugee health care and long bureaucratic delays in the handling of applications, are among the issues severely affecting SAHs ability to function. The system in place is inefficient and leads to a lengthy period for the processing of a sponsorship application. Previously, refugees and asylum seekers were covered by the Interim Federal Health Program, until they qualified for provincial coverage. Now that cuts have been made to this program, the SAHs are liable for the care of the parties they sponsor. The report claims, “Approximately one-third of church-connected SAHs (32 per cent) report that their sponsoring groups have decreased or ended their involvement in the program as a result of the added liability for health costs.”

Additionally, the Canadian Minister of Citizenship and Immigration Chris Alexander has been accused of not being transparent enough when responding to the question of how many Syrian refugees have arrived in the country since the Ministry’s promise to resettle 1,300. In a radio interview with CBC’s As It Happens host Carol Off, he stated that 1,150 Syrians “have received Canada’s protection,” but flat-out refused to answer precisely how many have actually arrived in Canada. Some refugee advocates go further, claiming that the stated 1,150 does not solely consist of those who have fled to countries neighbouring Syria and still face harsh conditions, but includes Syrian students and tourists who were already in Canada.
In the past, Canada has been hailed internationally for opening its doors to those persecuted or fearing persecution. The SAH program itself was founded as a Canadian response to the 1978 Southeast Asian ‘boat people’ crisis. However, figures show that 2012 saw a 14-year low in the number of refugees resettled in Canada. Despite this obvious regression when it comes to providing a safe space, the government in Ottawa continues to proudly advertise its track record, having taken in one of every ten resettled refugees worldwide. The United Nations Refugee Agency released a statement earlier this year that said it wishes to resettle 100,000 Syrian refugees between 2015 and 2016. If Canada would like to continue this trend, that would mean taking in 10,000 Syrian refugees over the next two years.

***

Eiad Herrera was a journalism student at the University of Damascus, completing the third year of his undergraduate degree when the unrest began in 2011. Spending most of his time after high school living between both Dubai and Syria, Eiad said he knew he had to permanently leave his home country when the revolution began what he classified as the second phase, or the “armed revolution.”

In Arabic, Eiad described his second-to-last class lecture at the University of Damascus.
“There were battles around the university, bombing here, bombing there, and your desk shaking […] And you can hear nearby the sound of shooting […] you can see the military and the intelligence members checking the people, checking the students. […] It was so stressful and scary. You could see the smoke in the sky. That was the last day.” He left for the relative safety of Lebanon the next day.

Before leaving Syria, in what he calls the “first stage of the revolution” – or the peaceful demonstration part – Jassem says he participated in journalistic activities under a pseudonym. This was his way of rejecting the “lies and propaganda” propagated by the state’s news medium, which he says is not actually media, but “play.”
He describes the protesters as willing to put their lives on the line for their cause, saying, “[The protester] is going to die and he knows.” All the same, he said he was proud of them, because of the courage it takes to go up against the the Arab Socialist Ba’ath Party. Ever since their coming to power over forty years ago, Eiad says nobody had any freedom of speech, illustrating it through a Syrian analogy: where nobody can ever open their mouths unless they are at the dentist’s clinic.

Podcast: A conversation with Eiad Herrera

***

The final straw for the Dandashis was following the detainment of their eldest son, Mohammed. Mohammed, who is described as “liking freedom” by his father, was picked up by the Syrian government army and kept in a military prison for forty days. Never coming back from university, the family did not know his whereabouts for 25 days.
“It was very difficult for us […] I didn’t sleep, I don’t think,” said Jassem. Finally, Mohammed managed to send word about his condition and location through a fellow detainee that was released. “At that time I was very afraid for my life,” explained Jassem, who shortly after his son’s release had his family leave their home in Syria and cross the nearby border into Lebanon.

The Dandashis spent the next two years living on Lebanon’s northern border with Syria in the province of Akkar. Living on the border town of Mashta Hammoud, Jassem said, “Every day for the two years we were there, they [the Syrian army] fired on us […] in Lebanese territory.” Despite this, Jassem said arriving safely in Lebanon “felt like heaven. Of course after we left to Lebanon, [the government] robbed our house, emptying every room, except for my library.”

Like many of the other 1.5 million Syrians (1.1 million registered with UNHCR, and another estimated 500,000 unregistered Syrians) taking refuge in the neighbouring country, the family had few occupational prospects in Lebanon, and continued to face danger and hardships.

The population of this coastal country skyrocketed in the last three years with the influx of over a million documented Syrian refugees and hundreds of thousands more undocumented ones. As is, only around four million Lebanese live in Lebanon. This increase in the country’s population has put significant strain on public institutions, such as the education and health systems. Many lower-to-middle class Lebanese are also unable to find jobs, as employers can hire Syrians for lower wages. As Eiad puts it, “Syrians cannot do anything in Lebanon. They are only [there because they are] running away from the war in Syria.”

“I will not forget the moment when they called us to the flight on [May 29, 2014]. It opened up a lot of doors for the family, especially for the children’s education. We are very happy, because we are the first Syrian refugee family to immigrate to Canada [since the start of the uprising], sponsored by the government,” exclaimed Jassem.
Customary to resettlement, the travel was planned for them and paid for. Jassem says after receiving their acceptance, the move and integration into Canada was smooth, with people helping them at every step of the way. The family was met at the airport by government workers, who drove them, their ten suitcases, and five carry-on bags to a hotel where they stayed for ten days at the expense of the Canadian government. During these days the family was helped by a government worker who was fluent in Arabic with the paperwork needed for a social insurance number, health insurance, registering in school, and finding furnishing for their apartment. The family will be supported until they become self-sufficient. In the meantime, the Dandashis study French at Montmorency College in Montreal.

***

Mohammed, who was in his third year of university in Syria studying architecture, was unable to complete his degree because he had to flee the country. The same goes for his brother, Jawad, who spent a year in business school in Lebanon prior to arriving in Canada.
Flipping between Al Jazeera Arabic and a soccer match on the television, Jawad described being so cold at school the day before and not being able to move his hands. “Isn’t it only September?” he exclaimed.

They told me they both hope to improve their English and French enough to finish their schooling at McGill or Concordia. “I will challenge myself to learn French, just only to express my thanks and my gratitude to Canadian people and Canadian government […] because you are [improving opportunities] for my family,” Jassem said.
Eiad is also taking the required French courses at Collège de Bois-de-Boulogne. He too wants to finish his degree, but he says he must improve his English to do so because of his plan to study journalism at Concordia. “I am thirty years old and I feel I lost a lot of things. I feel I should be here from fifteen years ago, maybe from the beginning,” says Eiad, who said he feels a heavy burden to catch up.

***

In Canada, Syrian refugees are still affected by the ongoing civil war in their home country. Eiad, who calls and Skypes with his friends and cousins every day, said he felt his correspondents are scared to articulate over the line what is happening to them and the country around them.
“They don’t need to tell the state of affairs in Syria. No need to tell me, because I can hear what is happening there. Actually you hear the sounds of the fighter planes, and you can the rockets […] you can hear the bombing.”

When asked if they think they will ever go back to Syria, both Jassem and Eiad had the same response. “Under this regime, no,” says Eiad, referring to Bashar al-Assad’s government. Each family said they could possibly visit after they have settled down, if there is peace back home and the Assad regime is no longer in power.
Currently, Mohammed Dandashi would need to face trial for opposing the regime if he returned. Nonetheless, both families are hopeful of their new start. Eiad described Canada as his “second homeland.”

Unfortunately, the Dandashis and Herreras are not the typical story. The Syrian revolution, which has broken out into a full-out civil war and caused the exodus of the country’s people, is continuing into its third year. Two and a half million Syrians are in Lebanon, Jordan, and Turkey, often in semi-permanent refugee camps, as the host countries cannot afford, do not have the infrastructure for, and do not want to fully resettle them themselves. Despite this astronomical number, the West is falling behind on its promises to provide safe havens to these people. The Dandashis and Herreras will be the among the anomalies that do not apply to Syria’s lost generation.

The post Not part of this lost generation appeared first on The McGill Daily.

Hiawatha Belt Flag proposal rejected

In their report to Council, Arts Senators Jacob Greenspon and Kareem Ibrahim gave a follow-up on two motions that the Students’ Society of McGill University (SSMU) Legislative Council approved at its April 10 meeting. The motions mandated SSMU to endorse the moving of the Hochelaga Rock, which commemorates the Iroquois settlement that used to exist at McGill’s current grounds, to a more prominent location, and the flying of the Hiawatha Belt Flag, a symbol of the Haudenosaunee Confederacy, on National Aboriginal Day. SSMU’s support was to be expressed to members of the administration.

According to Greenspon’s and Ibrahim’s report, the Secretariat rejected McGill’s Work Group on Aboriginal Affairs’ proposal to fly the Hiawatha Belt Flag on National Aboriginal Day. It justified its rejection by stating that, “People feel that we should more fully consider this request in the context of other community members who may have a similar interest in celebrating a particular group or tradition.”

AUS VP Social Kyle Rouhani addressed the Secretariat’s decision before Council. “The University has no problem changing the flag for when a representative of the crown comes, but was really, really reluctant to change the flag for the nation whose lands we are on.”

In an email to The Daily, AUS President Lucy Ava Liu suggested that the Secretariat’s decision was not the end of the AUS’ involvement with the issue. “I think it is an issue that will definitely engage a number of Arts students, especially following last year’s recently approved Indigenous Studies minor. I think this topic may be brought up again at AUS Council in the future, potentially in the form of a motion by an AUS councillor.”

Resigned VP Finance replaced

Council’s most time-sensitive issue on the agenda was replacing AUS VP Finance Kateryn Kim, who resigned from the position for personal and family reasons. On August 22, a memo was sent out to members of AUS eligible to run for the executive that instructed them to prepare a letter of intent and a presentation for the September 3 Council meeting, should they be interested in running for the vacant position.

According to its constitution, AUS Council is required to appoint a replacement for the VP Finance position from amongst its members or from an official committee at its Legislative Council meeting. If deemed necessary by Council, the new VP Finance would temporarily occupy their position until a by-election is held.

The two candidates who ran for the position were Dan Rozenblum, VP Communications of the Society of Undergraduate Mathematics Students (SUMS), and Xue, an Economics and Computer Science double major, who was on the AUS Financial Management Council last year.

Xue won in a secret ballot vote at the meeting over Rozenblum 25-15, with two abstentions.
However, Council deemed it unnecessary to hold a by-election. As such, Xue was appointed as VP Finance, rather than as interim VP Finance, and no further elections will be held.
Kim expressed her support for a swift appointment rather than appointing an interim VP Finance until a by-election would be held.

Kim stated that it took about a month to get used to the tasks of the job – an interim would only be fully operational at the time the by-election took place, and the process of retraining would have to begin.

Kim told The Daily that she was feeling confident in Xue’s appointment. “This job is very operational, so you learn as you go along, and once you get the hang of the operation, it’s just time management skills,” Kim stated.

The post AUS holds first Council meeting of the year appeared first on The McGill Daily.

The demonstrators claim that the proposed bill, which aims to criminalize sex work more than any other legislation in Canadian history, will have an extremely negative effect on the overall safety, health, and working conditions of sex workers.

In the ruling of Canada v. Bedford last December, the Supreme Court of Canada unanimously decided that three articles in Canada’s criminal code endangered sex workers. These laws forbade brothels, communication for the purposes of soliciting sex, and profiting off the sex work of others. The Court, however, left Parliament the discretion to impose, as Chief Justice Beverley McLachlin wrote in the final paragraphs of the decision, “limits on where and how prostitution may be conducted.”

A direct response to the Court’s ruling came earlier this month from Peter Mackay, Minister of Justice and Attorney General of Canada, when he introduced Bill C-36, which outlined the Conservative government’s proposal for new limits on sex work. This draft legislation criminalizes, for the first time in Canada’s history, the buying of sex.

While the selling of sex would remain legal, Bill C-36 makes it a criminal offence for sex workers to communicate for the purposes of gaining work or providing their services in a place where a minor might be present. Bill C-36 also brings back the provisions struck down by the Supreme Court, forbidding brothels and people other than sex workers “receiving a material benefit that derives” from prostitution. In addition, the proposed legislation places a ban on all advertising of sexual services, including on the internet or in newspapers.

Anita, an outreach worker for Chez Stella, a Montreal-based sex worker rights organization, told The Daily that if Bill C-36 is passed, the provision that prohibits sex workers from working in places where minors are expected to be present will drive them “into darker corners of the city.”

“That’s basically any public space. So that means that sex workers will be in abandoned parking lots, in industrial complexes, near train tracks.”

Anita noted that if the advertisement of sexual services online is forbidden, “they will have to leave the interior to look for their clients. So it’s actually going to bring sex workers onto the street and make them more vulnerable in searching for their work.”

Many protesters also voiced the criminalization of clients as one of their biggest concerns with the draft legislation.

“If you are afraid that your client is going to get arrested or you are going to get arrested, you jump in the car and that is the most dangerous situation you could be in. […] You can’t take the time to suss out if a client is drunk. […] [You have to] make sure that you agree on wanting the same thing, and that they agree to safer sex,” said Anna-Louise Crago, a former sex worker and a current Trudeau Foundation scholar researching violence against sex workers.

Viviane Namaste, a professor at Concordia University’s Simone de Beauvoir Institute, said that much of the academic literature and research on the topic echoed Crago’s concerns.

“The proposed bill involves criminalizing clients, and there is actually quite a bit of research available that shows that that model, in fact, creates a context in which women who do work in [the] sex industry are […] more invisible and it is more difficult for outreach workers to get in contact with them,” she told The Daily.

In an email to The Daily, Daniel Weinstock, professor in the Faculty of Law at McGill, compared the new bill to the clauses recently struck down by the Supreme Court.

“Overall, the goal of [Bill] C-36 is different from the laws presently in the books, in that whereas the latter aims to keep sex workers out of sight and earshot, the former has an eliminationist intent,” he said. “Provision by provision, the new law is more draconian than the old in terms of communication since it targets online and print publications that advertise sexual services.”

The president of the Board of Directors at Chez Stella, who goes by the acronym J.D., criticized the Conservative government’s choice in implementing Bill C-36. “Peter MacKay is not doing his job. His job is to ensure the protection of Canadians and their rights and […] to make decisions based on evidence. And this decision is clearly not based on the evidence, […] the recommendation of the Supreme Court of Canada, [n]or their decision, and this law really goes in the face of all of that,” J.D. told The Daily.

Although confident that if passed, the laws put in place by Bill C-36 would be brought before the Supreme Court and struck down, Crago predicts a devastating outcome at the cost of this law.

“It will take sex workers – often who are among the most marginalized [in society] – [ten years to] gather […] the [necessary] resources. And in that time women will be harmed, women will be abused, and women will be killed.”

The post Demonstrators dance to protest new sex work draft legislation appeared first on The McGill Daily.