Canadians who are old enough to remember know exactly where they were and what they were doing when they heard about the Montreal massacre. To commemorate the event, Dec. 6 is now officially a National Day of Remembrance and Action on Violence Against Women. While some think the Montreal massacre is a horrific but anomalous event, it is important to remember on this upcoming National Day of Remembrance and Action that violence against women is still a very big issue today.

For example, over 500 Indigenous women have gone missing or have been murdered in the past two decades. Often, women of poor and racialized backgrounds are more susceptible to being victims of violence.

Furthermore, the events at Polytechnique galvanized survivors and supporters to demand tighter gun control laws. Though a law that passed six years later ushered in an era of stricter gun control, the Harper government is in the process of rolling back the achievements that, in particular, families of victims fought so hard for.

More recently, it was only in August when George Sodini shot and killed three women and injured another nine when he walked into an LA Fitness club. His motivation, as documented in a nine-month Web diary: sexual frustration, perceived rejection and alienation, and ultimately hatred towards women.

While it is important to commemorate the dead, there is no point in fooling ourselves that Canada has “moved on” from this tragic chapter of history. There is more awareness surrounding violence against women, but the violence, unfortunately, has yet to stop.

For all those who were too young to remember the Montreal massacre, Heather J. Wood’s Fortune Cookie—a coming of age fictional story set in 1989 Montreal—is a great start.

Hillier is a former NATO forces commander and was Canadian Chief of Defense Staff until last year. In his recently released memoir, A Solider First, Hillier offers his take on the first headlines about detainee torture in 2007.

Canada had no official policy on detainees when our government first sent troops to Afghanistan in 2002, he writes, and the “minuscule number” of prisoners wasn’t a major concern in the early days. When the fighting heated up in spring of 2006, our military started handing their captures over to American Coalition troops, and then the NDS, Afghanistan’s intelligence service.

The main thing, Hillier contends, is these were the bad guys. “We were capturing these guys red-handed, in many cases in the middle of firefights or attacks on Canadians, and many were found with gunpowder or explosive residue on their bodies.”

Not so, says Richard Colvin.

As a Canadian diplomat, Colvin volunteered to go to Afghanistan in 2006, after the death of Glyn Berry. He stayed for 17 months.

While working for the Department of Foreign Affairs, and later in the Canadian Embassy, Colvin visited detainees. He told the parliamentary committee that he sent numerous reports to Canadian Forces and Foreign Affairs, airing his concerns about who was being captured, and the horrific abuse most, if not all, of the detainees faced contrary to the Geneva Convention. Many were innocent locals, farmers and truck drivers, Colvin said. His reports were mostly ignored, until he was asked to stop putting them in writing in 2007.

The government has attacked Colvin’s credibility and denied that the current government knew anything about torture. Peter MacKay called the opposition a bunch of “bobbleheads and muppets” during question period when Bob Rae asked about the government’s knowledge and action on the issue multiple times, in both official languages. MacKay’s continued response was to reference “the previous government” (and presumably his predecessor, Gordon O’Connor).

If Hillier stays true to his book, he’ll deflect the blame too. Any torture that might have occurred during the early transfers, he writes, was due to the “nascent” nature of the Afghan prison system. The system wasn’t perfect, and as for prison reviews: “it took an awfully long time to get them organized.”

During the ten pages in his book Hillier devotes to the issue of detainee abuse, most of it is centralized around what a good job he believes many Canadian Forces soldiers did not killing the prisoners themselves. “We had all learned something from Somalia,” he writes repeatedly. Yes, we did. The Canadian Forces saw its budgets hacked to bits, its numbers drop, and the country’s pride in its image of the “peacekeeping” soldier suffer a critical blow.

The Canadian Forces has changed dramatically since the death of a Somali teenager at the hands of two Canadian soldiers in 1993. An inquiry into that matter lasted four years, and never uncovered what the upper levels of government knew about the incident, or any attempt to cover it up.

Only time will tell whether Hillier’s testimony, and that of others called to speak before the committee, will be any more revealing.

While Joya lives in Afghanistan—under heavy protection of armed body guards due to several assassination attempts—she is currently touring North America to promote her new book, co-authored with Vancouver activists Derrick O’Keefe.

I interviewed Joya by phone yesterday.

Q&A

You’ve been touring all over North America promoting your new book—how has the response been so far?

There is a huge difference between the responses from the people and from policymakers. But I’m so honoured that, on behalf of my people, I’ve received strong solidarity and support. Of course not from everyone—a few that attend my talks stand up and express pro-war sentiments, but most people stand up and cry and show their support for the people of Afghanistan.

Two weeks ago I was in the U.S. and some people said “Apologize for what your government is doing” and I said, “This is your government’s doing, your government should apologize to you and my people and stop the war crime in my country.” I’ve received different forms of support, which gives us more hope, courage and determination, but we need more than your support and solidarity. We need you to put pressure on your government to stop this wrong-doing, this dirty business of politics. And also I’ve told some good politicians—I had an appointment with some Members of Parliament—that the silence of good people is worse than the actions of bad people.

So you think that Canadians should pressure the government to stop the military presence in Afghanistan?

Yes, of course. There is no question that we need a helping hand, an honest hand, a practical hand after the domination of Taliban. But unfortunately under the banner of women’s rights, human rights and democracy they pushed us from the frying pan into the fire. They replaced the Taliban with fundamentalist warlords who are a photocopy of the Taliban and the civil war in Afghanistan. In Kabul alone these warlords have killed more than 65,000 innocent civilians. If you want to know more about this go to the Human Rights and Amnesty International websites and the many books that have been written about this issue. But they were imposed on my people; that’s why my country is a safe-haven for terrorism.

They—the U.S. and Nato including the Canadian government—made my country the center of the drug trade. For example, even the New York Times wrote about the brother of Hamid Karzai, Ahmad Wali Karzai, which my people call the small Bush of Kandahar, being a famous drug trafficker and receives millions of dollars from the CIA. Your government sends taxpayer money and troops to such a mafia system. Eight years is enough to know that this current policy is wrong—even with the presence of thousands of foreign troops in Afghanistan, we don’t have security. And millions of Afghans suffer from injustice, corruption, joblessness and poverty and the situation of women in most provinces is hell. The killing of women is like the killing of birds. I can give you many examples that show how the current government is mentally like the Taliban. The situation is getting much worse—even in Kabul there is no security, even the UN office has been attacked—so it better that the foreigners leave us alone. My people are sandwiched between two powerful enemies: from the sky NATO occupation forces bombing and killing civilians under the guise of democracy, most of them women and children, and on the ground from the Taliban and warlords. These occupation soldiers themselves are the victims of their governments’ wrong policies. Democracy never comes about through war—by the barrel of gun—you should know better than that.

But the Canadian government, as part of Nato, is unjust because they follow the policy of the U.S. government. They invaded Afghanistan for their own strategic, economic and regional interests, not to bring democracy. We have many justice-loving, democratic people in Afghanistan. Since there is no honorable job for them, they are underground activists. And I think that you’ll agree that fighting against one enemy is much easier than fighting against two. So with the withdrawal of the troops it is easier to fight one enemy. No question that we need your helping hand from the justice loving people of this country and the anti-war organizations, we just don’t need these wrong policy makers, this foreign muscle like Prime Minister Harper.

Mr. Harper says that this Afghan election, which was a farce and a non-democratic election, was a successful one and congratulated Hamid Karzai for winning. Hamid Karzai compromised with misogynist warlords and negotiates with the Taliban. But the Harper government has not raised its voice against that, against the corrupt system of Hamid Karzai. Harper follows the U.S. policy in Afghanistan instead of serving my people, he’s serving the criminals, the misogynists, the terrorists. It is better to leave—we don’t need this so-called “helping hand.”

You’re still suspended from the Afghan Parliament, is that correct?

Yes, the parliament is against freedom of speech, which is an elementary part of democracy and in the mean time illegal. I’m an elected member of parliament, not appointed. People voted me in. And also, they were able to stop me from getting into the Parliament again because, as they say, it doesn’t matter who’s voting, it matters who’s counting. They haven’t allowed me back and their cheating is clear.

In another interview someone asked, if the troops leave Afghanistan, what will happen to you, as a woman, an activist woman? And I replied, let’s talk about what’s happening today. Today we already have a civil war. Today, my life is more in danger despite having bodyguards, compared with the time during Taliban rule. There have been assassination attempts on my life.

So you’re saying it’s worse now?

Yes, not only is it worse, it will be even worse if this occupation continues because they will make these misogynist terrorists even more powerful. And now they’re negotiating with the Taliban. The situation now is not only more risky for me as a person, it is also more dangerous for millions of people in Afghanistan, especially the women of my country. The only difference between the Taliban period and now is that day by day they make their crimes legal, as you saw with the disgusting law against Shi’te women that was recently passed. All of these crimes are happening in the name of democracy. That’s the only difference. Now they all negotiate with each other and have no problem—all of them are puppets of the CIA, and the more than 40 countries that are occupying Afghanistan continue this wrong policy.

You’re suspended, but what kind of work are you able to be involved with in Afghanistan? What are you currently doing there? Do you have to stay at home all the time because of security concerns?

Yes, I am an underground activist; I am risking my life for this cause. One day together with my people we will bring them [the warlords and the Taliban] to the international criminal court. My message to brave people, especially those that fight for human rights, is that I’m documenting the crimes of these warlords and the Taliban. In the meantime I’m trying to bring awareness to my people, especially women, whom I meet underground and who have often times been raped, complaining that the government does not listen to them. And you can see by the clips on my webpage that I’m trying to give them hope. The media in Afghanistan has banned me but when foreign media enters Afghanistan, I am able to talk with them. When you speak the truth against the occupation and against the warlords and Taliban, people join you if you’re honest. In the mean time, it’s risky. They want to eliminate me, as you’ve seen with the assassination attempts. I’ve had to move from safe-house to safe-house and not lead a normal existence, but I’m glad. Everyday I say I must be tireless and fearless because I have the support of my people and I carry a heavy responsibility on my shoulders. As always I say, I don’t fear death—I fear political silence against injustice. And I’m glad that we have so much support from people outside Afghanistan. But we need more.

Our (totally made up, unofficial) Legalization Week continues today with Katie Addleman’s exploration of the drug trade, and the catastrophic effect prohibition has had on law enforcement, gang violence, addicts’ health, and community safety:

Ounce for ounce, marijuana is worth more than gold, and heroin more than uranium. Yet it’s only as a direct result of international policy that drugs are so valuable; if they weren’t illegal, they’d be worthless. Prohibition floats the drug trade by raising potential profits to astronomical levels, and the drug trade in turn floats the gangs who control it. “Because of … their illegality and associated criminal sanctions,” writes Chettleburgh, “those willing to trade in them—drug cartels, organized crime syndicates, so-called narco-terrorist groups and street gangs—can demand high prices and derive great profits.”

“You’re talking about a profession where people accept a risk of being murdered, execution-style, as an occupational hazard,” said Bratzer. “How is a mandatory minimum sentence going to deter a person who already accepts the risk of being shot and having their body dumped in a car?”

Read the article in full here. And be sure to vote in our poll on drug policy above, too.

Tomorrow: Rosemary Counter on raw milk.

The current issue of This features Andrew Webster’s profile of Canada’s independent videogame scene, which came to mind recently when I stumbled across Lose/Lose, a video-game/conceptual-art-project that adds some real risk to the normally consequence-free world of blowing up aliens. When you play Lose/Lose, the alien attackers are stand-ins for actual files on your computer. When you blow them up, those files are deleted. If the aliens blow you up, the game deletes itself and you have to download it again. I didn’t play it, because, well, that’s not really the point. It’s a thought experiment.

The game’s creator, Zach Gage, explains the concept:

Although touching aliens will cause the player to lose the game, and killing aliens awards points, the aliens will never actually fire at the player. This calls into question the player’s mission, which is never explicitly stated, only hinted at through classic game mechanics. Is the player supposed to be an aggressor? Or merely an observer, traversing through a dangerous land?

Why do we assume that because we are given a weapon and awarded for using it, that doing so is right?

That’s a pretty explicit question, and a politically charged one—the kind that videogames have traditionally avoided.

As an art form, games seem to remain ideologically inert in comparison to other media. Partly that’s a function of the cost of developing them. When you spend millions building a blockbuster game, you can’t afford to turn it into a searing commentary on morality in pop culture; stuff just has to blow up real good. That’s true of film and music too, other high-capital undertakings that can’t afford to alienate the audience. But in those fields, independent, aggressively avant-garde projects still flourish on the margins. With video games, even the tiny indie producers seldom seem to venture into serious commentary on social, political, or economic issues. It’s all “dance dance” and no “revolution.” There’s the “serious games” genre, but those seem more like educational games, and less focused on commentary.

Does anyone have suggestions for video games (any platform) that have real political content? Who is the Brecht of X-Box? The Godard of GameBoy? The Breillat of Wii? Suggest them in the comments section below or email them to editor at this magazine dot ca.

Written from Agu’s perspective, the boy speaks a kind of pidgin, free-association English, saying things like: “We are at the camp and I am watching how the sun is just dropping down behind the hill like it is not wanting to be seeing us anymore. All the color is leaking out of it and looking like flame from hell all over, eating up the top of all the tree, making all the leaf bright, bright.” Agu finds himself forced to join a rebel force in the midst of a civil war in an unnamed West African nation. Agu is therefore a composite of all the region’s young fighters.

With his own words, Agu describes the terrible things he does to innocent and unsuspecting villagers as well as to members of his own regiment. And yet, despite all this, the story offers hope of rehabilitation – both literally and figuratively. Just as the mind can be broken and transformed into something ugly and cruel, it can with patience be reformed into its former shape—into something recognizably human.

At the age of seven Deng was forced to flee his village when the murahaleen, the government sponsored militia group, attacked it and killed its inhabitants. Along with a few hundred other boys, they trekked from south west Sudan to Ethiopia — a distance of approximately 600 kilometres, or from Toronto to Quebec City — eating something like a handful of nuts and berries on some days, and less on others; escaping the clutches of roaming lions; and avoiding the machine gun fire of passing government planes: the kinds of difficulties nearly none of us can convincingly imagine.

Their days at the Kenyan refugee camp in Kakuma were not much better. Malnutrition, disease and illness: this was their fate. Even the campdwellers, victims of their own government’s systemic removal and obliteration of their people, would not be too quick to call the place a refuge. Some though, like Deng and many other Lost Boys, had since been sponsored by the citizens of other countries.

With Deng and many of his walking companions now living comfortably in the United States or Canada, basic needs can finally be met without such struggle. And in telling What is the What: A Novel with Dave Eggers, Valentino Achak Deng is helping cast some light on a particularly dark situation within which many of his people are still enveloped.

A friend recently sent me an email commenting on the Twitter craze provoked by the recent riots in Kampala, Uganda. Within the first few minutes of the first sign of rioting, Twitter was chock-full of witness reports on the events.

Just like Tehran earlier this year, Twitter delivered an instant “news” source. While Twitter provides largely unverified information, I was able to track events via a series of people whom I trust because we have either met or because they have honed a flawless track record of articles, blogs and informal citizen news production eventually verified by mainstream news agencies.

While I was impressed by the f requency and detail of the updates, one of my acquaintances seemed less so. He asked why rural Ugandans — such as our mutual connection “Norman” who runs an orphanage in Mbale, Western Uganda — would be interested in minute-by-minute updates on rioting in Kampala. He writes: “I don’t think their lives [Norman and other rural Ugandans] would be demonstrably altered by knowing facts two or three hours earlier.”

However, as a Ugandan friend who is social-entrepreneur insists, this argument misses the point. It does not matter whether anyone wants or needs to hear information on a minute-by-minute basis. The importance of Twitter lies not only in providing a security mechanism when news is lacking,  but also in offering everyone a “personal microphone.” This personal microphone extends far beyond news updates by offering a new knowledge-production mechanism which expands beyond limited village-based traditional information-sharing networks to a virtual global network. Writ large, Twitter and other social media are tools to counter the hegemony of Western knowledge-production, both in news and in international development.

While Norman might not be as interested in the instant updates on riots in Kampala (which, I would argue, he would be, considering family and friends living in the capital city), he has a stake in terms of funding his own orphanage project through instant updates. Sure enough, Norman is a prime example of just how effective this type of social media marketing (Facebook, Twitter and so on) can be. On any given day, I receive at lease one or two updates from Norman on his orphanage in Mbale. And, while an overflow of information has often turned me off from reading every update and contributing to the project more than just once in a while, it does inspire a sense of trust and confidence to see that the project is constantly evolving (for better or worse). It also enables Norman  to foster a wider network of people contributing to his project, honing more funding and opportunities.

A key point in the development of social media tools like Twitter is that they are being used to circumvent all types of “traditional” structures that are rigid in control and content. Twitter enables news to circumvent the tightly controlled radio stations and newspapers in Uganda and ensures that citizens are given an idea of how their friends and families are doing; social media in general is circumventing time worn international aid structures that have consistently hampered the development of home-grown ideas and projects through foreign-controlled and imposed development ideas and ideals.  Individuals who have built a Twitter “reputation” for accurate information  can provide live, in-the-field updates; others can provide an up-to-date source of information showing the traceable and digestible development of their projects. The latter, moreover, offer a personal connection to the project, which secures further donations.

Based on the huge growth of social media, it is safe to presume that over the next few years, we are going to see social media emerging as a tool for the marginalized: those whose voices have been silenced by bigger “machines” such as the ever present bureaucracy of large aid organizations like the United Nations and powerful Western news agencies such as CNN.

While the Internet does give everyone a chance to “re-invent” themselves as they wish, a unique trust system based on complex virtual and face-to-face relations is becoming a stop-gap for the potential fabrications that come with unregulated information. As I mentioned before, I have developed a network of friends whom I have met, or been referred to by trusted friends, or who have proven themselves to be accurate in their reporting and observations. Besides this, active Twitter users are engaged in a parallel activity, “tweetups”, which brings users together on a more human basis, providing far more trust than the forever elusive structures of big development systems like USAID and the “parachute journalism” of chronically underfunded newspapers.

So, contrary to the myth  that social media, particular Twitter, are irrelevant to human development, I believe individuals like Norman show the great potential in investing in this type of information sharing and networking. Moreover, it is high-time for a tool to challenge the mainstream knowledge structures that are forever dominated by the West. with its bottomless finances to manipulate information, and thus to ensure  a more even distribution of knowledge production. As Foucault said, “Knowledge is Power” and social media — increasingly accessible to the masses — is helping reverse the unfair distribution of information which has tainted the reputation of regions like the Middle East (remember Edward Said?) and Africa keeping them forever marginalized.

Ahmadinejad speaking at the U.N. General Assembly in 2008

Almost one year ago Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, the currently contested President of the Islamic Republic of Iran, delivered his infamous speech at the U.N. General Assembly. Putting aside for a moment that the U.N. has failed its mandate to prevent wars between countries and, therefore, is rather debunked as an institution, it has also been a microphone-box for some of the world’s most notorious self-proclaimed leaders.

In his 2008 speech, Ahmadinejad alternately wooed and unsettled the audience with his defiant, confident and eloquent rhetoric that challenged everything from the U.S. occupation of Iraq to the existence of gays in Iran. The reaction of the crowd was mixed: some lamented the fact that the world was forced to choose between leaders like Bush and Ahmadinejad, while others lauded Ahmadinejad’s criticism of the U.S. occupation and chastised Colombia’s president for his hypocrisy (Bush, whose track record is worthy of war-criminal stature, after all, received a reception that was much more welcoming).

The problem with some portions of the left is that in the quest to establish a genuine alternative to Western—and, especially, American—imperialism and hegemony, some of the most unsavoury and unscrupulous characters are embraced. After all Ahmadinejad has met with Chavez, the darling of so much of the left, and supports Cuba, leaving activists somewhat confused and befuddled.

However, illusions cannot be easily maintained after this summer’s disputed Iranian elections and the ensuing atrocities. Regardless of how Ahmadinejad may have appeared before—sometimes as the defiant underdog who will not be intimidated, sometimes as the goofy, ugly-yet-comical figure—there should be no room for confusion anymore: Ahmadinejad represents a callous, bloody and tyrannical regime.

The reality is that the current Iranian government doesn’t care about the peoples of Afghanistan or Iraq or Palestine – it doesn’t even care about the people of Iran. The events following the contested June elections are testament to this fact. Wide-spread documentation of systematic imprisonment, torture, abuse, rape and death of protesters is all too well known now, though still vehemently denied by the regime. Unfortunately, the Iranian government is capable of much more painful, despicable and violent acts than those which met Neda Agha-Soltan’s fate. At least she died by a bullet wound and not due to the “rupturing of her womb and anus.”

But a question that is often asked among leftist circles, or anyone trying to challenge any status quo, is what to do now, knowing what we know? How should we proceed? What strategies can we employ? And, perhaps above all, what is our objective? For those Canadians of Iranian descent, who have ties with Iran, or who are simply concerned citizens who feel that injustice anywhere should be opposed everywhere, the options are fairly limited. But creativity sometimes grows in the most desperate of situations.

One Toronto-based group, Cycling for Human Rights in Iran (CHRI) decided to express their solidarity with the peoples of Iran by biking from Toronto Ottawa’s Iranian embassy to deliver a petition that features the following demands:

1. immediately and unconditionally release the political leaders and activists arrested on June 15th, and all others who have been arrested for the peaceful exercise of their rights to freedom of expression and assembly;
2. allow them immediate access to their family members, lawyers of their choice and to any medical treatment they may require, and that they be protected from all forms of torture or ill-treatment;
3. allow peaceful demonstrations by those wishing to express their opinion of the elections, even if critical.

The positive response to the Ottawa ride has encouraged CHRI to plan another one, this time a four-day, 800 km journey, starting this Saturday, September 19th, to New York. Information about the bike ride can be found here, and it is not too late to participate/volunteer for the ride.

Why New York? Ahmadinejad is planning another speech, after all.

This Magazine spoke to CHRI founder Ali Bangi and asked the following questions:

Why are you riding to New York?
Mr. Ahmadinejad’s (Iran’s controversial president) visit to the U.N. General Assembly is a good opportunity for us to raise awareness about the situation of human rights in Iran. We believe extreme forms of human rights violations have happened and continue to happen during his presidency and he has failed to respond and address the issue. Instead, he has endorsed government sanctioned violence against peaceful protests by Iranian students and ordinary people who have expressed their critical opinion about the recent presidential elections.

Why bike?
We use cycling as a tool to raise awareness. Cycling from Toronto to New York is kind of a mental and physical challenge that we believe is kind of similar to those facing many Iranian students, activists and political leaders that have been imprisoned for exercising their right to freedom of expression and assembly, which are both recognized rights by Iran’s constitution and the universal human rights. Cycling also keeps us together. We bike every Sunday and that’s how we have become a team/group. Finally, cycling long distances for human rights is what draws the necessary media attention and helps us deliver our message to the Iranian government that people in Canada are concerned about the human rights situation in Iran, as well as send a message to the Iranian people that we have not forgotten them.

What is CHRI position on Ahmadinejad being able to travel to New York? Do you feel like he should be arrested on spot?

No, he should not be arrested yet! If he was convicted of crimes gainst humanity and the U.S. was a member of the International Criminal Court (ICJ) he would/should have been arrested. He is not yet convicted of any crime and the U.S. is not a member of ICJ. So, he should be able to travel there and return to Iran. Iran is a member of the U.N. and he is going to the UN General Assembly meeting to represent a member state, Iran. The recent presidential election was controversial and there are allegations/evidence of vote rigging. However, Iran’s Guardian Council approved the election and announced him as Iran’s president. I disagree with the decision of the Guardian Council but I believe we should deal with the issue through lawful acts. Finally, I disagree with isolating Iran and its leaders. We should keep them engaged and deal with them within the established international law and customary international law.

If you were able to actually speak to Ahmadinejad, what would you tell him?
I would provide him with extensive evidence of human rights violations by his government and ask him to respond.

What concerns you most about the situation in Iran, and why do you feel that Canadians should pay attention to it?
The human rights situation in Iran is unfortunately getting worse. Widespread arrests, intimidation of the opposition, closure of newspapers, torture, rape in the prisons by the prison guards, etc. have proliferated at an alarming stage. Why should Canadians pay attention? Iran’s elections are partly an internal matter (if we want to strictly observe Iran’s soverignty) and there is not much Canadians can do about them. However, human rights are universal and it is the responsibility of everybody, regardless of their background and nationality, to protest violation of human rights, anywhere, when it happens.

How can people get involved with CHRI?

• They can come bike with us on Sundays (contact our volunteer coordinator at volunteer.chri@gmail.com) or join us as a member and attend  our events and meetings, etc. If they are interested in human rights advocacy this is a great group to join (just email the noted email address and you will be added to our email list serve).
• They can come and see us off on September 19th, at 12pm, at Hart House, when we leave Toronto to NYC (more info on our website or Facebook event page)
• They can donate at: http://www.cyclingforhumanrightsiniran.org/donation/ or write a cheque to CHRI
• They can also check our website, spread the word about CHRI and post CHRI links on their Facebook walls, these are great awareness raising support.

Who’s funding this? How can people donate if they are unable to participate in the ride?
We are an independent and non-partisan group. All our funds come from supports from individuals who care for human rights in Iran.

People can donate online, at the above link, or write a cheque to CHRI or just donate during our many fundraising events, usually in the busy parts of Toronto. We set up our bikes, hand out flyers and ask for donations. Here I would like to thank people of Toronto for their very generous donations/support. I also want to thank people from almost all over the world who have made online donations.

What else can be done?
A lot more and there are many other good organizations doing great work, some of whom we are partners with. We are organizing a conference on advocacy at the University of Toronto on October 17th, with support from the University of Toronto we are helping Iranians to by-pass the Internet filters put in place by the Iranian government to block them from access to many internet websites, we are involved in cultural events, we organize panel discussions by professors, activists and students, etc. Recently Iranian students from Toronto colleges and universities have got together and created Iranian Students Federation of Colleges and Universities (ISFCU). By joining our efforts together we can achieve and have already archieved a great deal

"A View of the Taking of Quebec, 13 September 1759" an engraving by Laurie and Whittle. Image courtesy National Archives.

I feel like I’ve been re-reading the same article all week. Politicians quoted in The Globe and Mail, National Post and others talk about this weekend’s Le Moulin à Paroles like it’s the last nail in Confederation’s coffin.

“There was the death of a man. These were tragic events,” Intergovernmental Affairs Minister, Josée Verner told the Globe when explaining why a public reading of the Front de libération du Québec’s 1970 manifesto is inappropriate.

Most of the articles focused on the pros and cons of reading the manifesto. The “pro” camp says it’s a chance to finally see it for what it really is, almost 40 years later: out-dated Marxist drivel. The “cons” see it as an affirmation of the separatist message and violence.

This debate isn’t really about separatists versus Canadians. This is about the right a group of festival organizers has to choose the material they feel best exemplifies the spirit of Quebec in the 250 years since the Plains of Abraham. Simply put, this is about free speech.

Despite what you’ve read, it’s not the only reading at the weekend-long spoken word event. It features 100 speakers reading recipes, novels, theatre pieces, poems, songs, a botany text and two other manifestos: those of Louis Riel and Louis-Joseph Papineau.

Riel sentenced Thomas Scott to death in 1869, for showing a disrespect to his provisional government, which would later become Manitoba. Disrespect wasn’t a capital offense under Riel’s government, but he felt it the only way to send a strong message to Canada.

Papineau lead the Lower Canadian Rebellions of 1837 against British rule in Quebec. Papineau and his Parti Patriotes wanted to keep French revenues out of the pockets of British politicians and to gain greater control of civil affairs in Quebec. A Montreal subway stop, several parks, and a federal election riding bear his name. His home is a national historic site.

The major difference between the FLQ manifesto and those of Riel and Papineau is that the latter are so far in the past that they are little more than dusty facts to most of us. 1970 is not so far removed from our collective memory. To my mother’s generation, the events of October 1970 are real memories, just as my generation will remember September 2001. To Quebecers, these memories are made all the more real by their proximity.

The FLQ bombings and the death of Pierre Laporte are part of a dark time in Canadian history. Reading the manifesto may offend some, but it’s a part of our history nonetheless.