HERstory

Reject Refugees Now, Enjoy Hell, Later.

 

You.

You would put your children in a boat too, if that^^ was your reality. After all, they’re not bombing the sea. Let’s play a horrifying game of “Would You Rather”. Which would you prefer: watching your toddler drown in the ocean or listening to them scream in fear before being shredded to death by a bomb?

His Name was Aylan

It reminds me of another haunting, heartbreaking question, one we considered 14 years ago. Would you have stayed in the World Trade Center with your co-workers and burned, or, desperate to avoid fire and building collapse, would you have held hands and jumped? If that question emotionally eviscerates you, as it still does me, please consider directing some of that horror, sorrow, and compassion towards other innocents, who are still here, and merely unfortunate enough to be born somewhere else.

These. Christ’s “least” (Matthew 25:40). These are the alleged “terrorists” we are callously hardening our hearts toward and turning away. Children wailing in terror and agony. I love this country and there is nowhere else I want to be, but I am ashamed that history is repeating its ugly self.

Just as we sent back Jews who desperately fled Hitler’s pogroms via the ocean liner St. Louis in 1939 — more than a quarter of whom later perished in the Holocaust, because Roosevelt was too busy planning for a third term to answer their cables pleading for sanctuary — we are similarly shutting our doors to the neediest and most vulnerable of our world. Never again, we said, often and with fervent conviction. But it is “again”. Again.

And just as we gave into xenophobia, paranoia, and isolationism 75 years ago, when we wouldn’t even consider special legislation to welcome 20,000 Jewish children from Germany into our arms, now we blindly screech about ISIS and the potential for “infiltration” even though we have accepted almost a million refugees since the towers fell, and not one of them is a terrorist. None of those refugees have been arrested. None.

My Muslim friends say, “Not in my name.” Well, as a devout Christian, I now join them. You want to hate and fear the least of Jesus’ brothers and sisters, go ahead and do so, but know this: you will surely burn in hellfire for disobeying his word, the words that actually matter, not the ones that prohibit wearing no-iron shirts or jeggings, enjoying rare steaks and burgers, or breeding labradoodles, puggles, and cockapoos.

I feel justified in making that proclamation, because such actions and motivations are exactly what our Lord and savior railed against:

41 Then he will say to those on his left, ‘Depart from me, you accursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels.
42 For I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me no drink,
43 A stranger and you gave me no welcome, naked and you gave me no clothing, ill and in prison, and you did not care for me.’
44 Then they will answer and say, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or ill or in prison, and not minister to your needs?’
45 He will answer them, ‘Amen, I say to you, what you did not do for one of these least ones, you did not do for me.’
46 And these will go off to eternal punishment, but the righteous to eternal life.”

Those of you who are proud to bleat about rejecting Syrian refugees, out of “concern” for our nation’s safety, who would callously slam liberty’s door in the tear-streaked faces of the lost, you do not speak for me, or anyone else with a functioning heart and brain. Remove your head from your poorly-cleaned ass and employ whatever meager reading comprehension skills you hopefully possess: no potential immigrant is more scrutinized than an asylum-seeker in the U.S. What secret terrorist is going to patiently endure an arduous, agonizing process that involves screenings from five different agencies?

Several federal agencies, including the State Department, the Department of Homeland Security, the Defense Department, the National Counterterrorism Center and the Federal Bureau of Investigation, are involved in the process, which Deputy State Department Spokesman Mark Toner recently called, “the most stringent security process for anyone entering the United States.” CNN

Juma Al-Ahmad, Director of Shahba Press (an alternative, independent media agency), ran outside on Tuesday October 27th 2015 to document the gruesome reality of being on the ground in an Aleppo suburb while being attacked by Russian air strikes. He recorded three out of four bombings; the final one, which is embedded above, apparently killed him. He died so we could see, and I cannot comprehend how anyone who worships G-d can watch that video (or look at that drowned child) and not want to open our doors to the “least”. We must open our eyes, then our hearts, so we can open our arms and actively follow the example set by Jesus Christ.

Follow Christ. How paradoxical is this: the same people who agitate against allowing refugees into this nation are often quite proud of being “born again” or committed devotees of Christ. They would do well to start acting like the man they claim to model their lives and priorities around, and keep his holy commandment to love our neighbors —an especially poignant and apposite rule, because when asked to clarify exactly whom he meant by that term, Jesus explained that “neighbor” meant anyone in need, even if they are our enemies.

Additionally, one of the laws of social responsibility laid out in Exodus even addresses this issue directly, by exhorting us to never mistreat or oppress foreigners. If my co-religionists can’t muster the compassion and decency to worry about our foreign, vulnerable neighbors in this life, perhaps they can be motivated by self-interest and realize that their actions will doom them in the next.

I know. That was way harsh, Tai. But hey. They were warned.

Posted on Wednesday, November 18, 2015 at 03:31 PM in Anna thinks..., Current Affairs, In Solidarity, Religion, Righting Wrongs, Writing Rage | Permalink | Comments (0)

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In Complete Unity

One of you sent this to my GMail-- since the availability of pakistanmartiallaw.blogspot.com is irregular, you are passing the word on however you can...and if that's not mutinous, I don't know what is.

The Emergency Times 

An Eyewitness account of the Execution of Martial Law

Protest at the LHC, Nov 5th, 2007 

A group of 35 students from LUMS, along with two faculty members, went to attend the protest staged at the Lahore High Court against the imposition of martial law, the detention of over 500 (and counting) lawyers and activists around the country since Saturday, and the taking of oath by certain judges under the new PCO. 

Arriving at the LHC around 8 AM, we were let in without much fuss, despite the hundreds of police personnel deployed outside. It was evident, however, that the gathering was not going to be allowed to be peaceful. Going into the Central Courtyard, the first thing that struck us was the legal fraternity’s reaction to our arrival. Some of them simply couldn’t comprehend the fact that students had showed up for the cause, that people besides them were waking up. All were extremely appreciative of our effort, even as they warned us of the risks we would definitely face. Joining us among the student community, were a few students from Punjab University and 4 uniformed teenage boys from Beaconhouse. It was their presence in particular that was indeed heartening to witness.

The protest began peacefully enough, even if the atmosphere was charged right from the onset. The lawyers vociferously screamed their opposition to Martial law in no uncertain terms. Raising slogans of ‘Go Musharraf Go’ and ‘Musharraf Kutta, Haye Haye’, as well as infuriated slogans against the judges taking oath under the PCO, the build-up was tense and vigorous. Prominent figures from the legal community stepped forward to give incendiary, passionate speeches about the need to act, the need to resist. Aitzaz Ahsan and the Real CJ, Justice Iftikhar Chaudhry, were lauded as the heroes of the day.

As the crowd slowly built up, everything became more worked up, us alongside it. As the massive swell of lawyers, with the tiny group of students cocooned in between, moved towards the gates of the High Court, they found they were barricaded, with a colossal army of police personnel behind them. After a brief verbal tussle between the police and lawyers, in which it was made clear that they would not be allowed to go onto the street, all hell broke loose. 

The Riot Police stormed into the High Court in full force, complete with their batons, helmets, shields and protective vests. They set upon the crowd of hapless, unarmed lawyers with a rabid ferocity that seemed to consume them entirely. Lawyers were indiscriminately beaten to a series of pulps; I saw the head of one of the lawyers being split open by the baton-wielding maniacs in front of my own eyes. The lawyers were forced to retreat, causing a stampede of sorts

Luckily, we were behind the frontlines of the assembly when the attack began and did not have to suffer its full brunt. However, the next few moments were unbelievably chaotic; tear gas was fired inside the High Court from all angles, making it difficult to see, breathe and speak. Gunshots could be heard in the uncomfortably-close distance, in all probability, to intimidate all present into quiet subservience. We searched frantically for members of the LUMS contingent, who had scattered in the wake of the attack and the subsequent stampede. Hell’s fury had indeed been unleashed.   

After we had gathered together whoever we could find, we were ushered into a hallway adjacent to the Courtyard by lawyers who had been assigned to guarantee our safety. From there, we watched as scores of policemen stormed the High Court from every direction and thrashed everyone in sight, arresting people as they went along. As around 40 of us, including many women, lay cramped together in a small room, the realization set in that we would be next. A realization that ‘everyone’ there accepted, without fear or panic. I applaud here, especially, the 10 or so freshman (011’s who were

Eventually, after eons, it seemed, the police broke into the hallway and demanded that we come out, albeit with our hands raised. Even as our faculty members and lawyers implored them to spare the students, the police personnel wantonly manhandled us, like abject criminals, along with our esteemed faculty members. We were certain we were about to be detained as we were paraded, in line, towards the main gate of the High Court, where the various deportation vans awaited. The media, most of them shell-shocked at the revelation that there were students, and that too, from LUMS, at the protest, began bombarding us with questions regarding who we were and why we were there. Our instructors replied to that with a simple but effective ‘for the safeguarding of the institution that protects our rights’.

Even as the uncertainty regarding our detention (the apparently planned destination being Mianwali) compounded, we were made to stand inside a bevy of police escorts while we awaited our fate. Eventually, in the midst of the media’s pronounced clamouring regarding our identity, a senior officer, either an SP or SSP (who had earlier issued the Mianwali threat) came to speak with us, informing us that ‘he was going to be “nice” to us and let us go.’ We were told to form a line, be responsible for each other’s safety and leave the area under police escort. 

I am not writing to needlessly glorify those who went. I am writing to inform everyone, all of you, about what the actual implications of a Martial Law are. Witnessing this situation first hand was an eye-opener. Because, simply, this is happening over the entire country now, to countless lawyers, activists, politicians, as we speak. As it has been happening in Balochistan and Waziristan for years. As it will continue to happen over the course of the next few weeks. All of us need to feel each other’s pain.

Organize effectively, collaboratively and substantively.

In complete unity.

­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­

Continue reading "In Complete Unity" »

Posted on Monday, November 05, 2007 at 12:31 PM in Righting Wrongs, Writing Rage | Permalink | Comments (8) | TrackBack (1)

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