A needed counterpoint to the sanitized version of Canadian history. However, the arguments might be stronger if the book was not only”grounded in the work of countless renowned Canadian anti-racist scholars and activists,” but included a wider range of scholars:
In the early 20th century, the Canadian Department of Immigration went to great lengths to dissuade Black Americans from immigrating to Canada. Working with doctors, they provided them with monetary rewards for turning Black migrants away at the border and mandated that these medical professionals inflict invasive and unnecessary examinations as deterrence from entering Canada. The government also sent doctors to Oklahoma and Kansas to spread propaganda to Black Americans around the unlivable weather conditions of Canada—some even going as far as telling Black men their daughters would be vulnerable to sexual abuse and exploitation.
This was done alongside two things: active courting of white settlers and a deep investment in the public appearance of a polite and welcoming neutrality, set apart from the outward race-based discrimination of the United States. This is just one of hundreds of seamless historical examples cited in the new book Policing Black Lives: State Violence in Canada From Slavery to the Present, written by Black feminist writer, activist and educator, Robyn Maynard.
Maynard plainly corrects and downright disrupts the friendly, welcoming and multicultural narrative on which Canada’s national identity relies. Her book examines anti-Black racism alongside every historical moment that Black people have been present in this country, starting from settler colonialism to present day. By characterizing Canadian nation-building as settler colonialism, Maynard effectively calls out the white theft of Indigenous land in the building of Canada and traces it through to a white-dominated hierarchy that exists to this day. It is grounded in the work of countless renowned Canadian anti-racist scholars and activists.
Maynard traces the 200 years of slavery in Canada, often erased or downplayed in the study of our history, noting the same dehumanizing and violent treatment of Black bodies we see in accounts of slavery in the U.S. Anti-Blackness through segregation characterized the post-slavery abolition period, an era often reimagined in Canada as purely positive.
Maynard recounts “Canada’s Jim Crow”, government-enforced racial segregation that had an impact on housing, employment, education and immigration for Black people in Canada. “Racial segregation—a form of violence in and of itself—entails the enforced (rather than voluntary) confinement of racialized populations to particular spaces (e.g. particular neighbourhoods, schools, public spaces, and businesses),” she writes. “The segregation of Blacks—which, like slavery, was a form of controlling Black movement and institutionalizing subordination—was based on the idea that Black people were both inferior and a danger to whites. Formally and informally, segregation was one of Canada’s foremost strategies for maintaining white dominance across all aspects of society after slavery’s end.”
Bryan Johnson’s review, interview and commentary on Ai Weiwei’s latest project/film. Looking forward to watching it:
With Human Flow, Ai has trained his magnifying gaze on an entire population trapped in horrific limbo. To convey the sheer scale of a catastrophe that has produced a global diaspora of 65 million refugees—a stateless nation roughly the size of France or the U.K.—Ai shot in 23 countries with a crew of 200. In each case, he employed aerial drone shots to portray the refugee camps, vast cities of khaki tents that, from the air, dissolve into a desert landscape like a grid of dunes. But on the ground, his camera captures intimate, often casual moments of people trying to maintain their dignity, even their joy, in the most desperate circumstances. And as he telescopes between panoramic quilts of displaced humanity to tender portraits of individual lives, the result is a film of breathtaking power.
Ai has previously directed small documentaries in China, but Human Flow is his first major film. Weighing in at two hours and 20 minutes, it violates an unwritten rule: documentaries that go beyond 90 minutes do so at their peril, unlike blockbuster dramas. But asking an audience to sit still for that long to spend time with refugees who wait years for freedom seems an essential part of the exercise. “Yes, people have to make an effort to see a film like this,” he says. “But in comparison, a young boy may wait five or ten years to get an education, and the average refugee spends 25 years as a refugee.”
Simply dressed in black cotton shirt and trousers, his hair and beard more neatly trimmed than in the movie, Ai Weiwei has a quietly commanding presence, soft-spoken and patient, but with a weary air of resignation that suggests doing publicity is not his favourite pastime. As a film guy, I had the naive impression that making a movie would be a bigger deal for him than creating armadas of art objects for a museum. Not so. “The only difference,” he says, “is that a film reaches a very general public, so you have to do a lot of promoting in every city. You have to convince people to see the film, which you don’t do with an art exhibition. All my exhibitions were breaking records for visitors. I would easily get a few hundred thousand people to look at the work. But film seems difficult, especially documentary. I just found out that in Toronto, a very liberal city, we may reach an audience of 20,000 to 30,000. To me it’s a big disappointment.” Then, warming to the math with the calculus of a man who once filled a museum with millions of fake sunflower seeds, he added, “If you want to get 20,000 people, that means in a theatre of 200 you have to show it 100 times! This is the reality of film. Very few people still go to theatres.”
Invited by Six Degrees, an annual conference on “global inclusion,” Ai was visiting Toronto for the first time to receive the Adrienne Clarkson Award for Global Citizenship, and to promote a film that was clearly a humbling experience for him. As a celebrated dissident artist, he once loomed as China’s Buddha-like answer to Michael Moore, a larger-than-life trickster who played a defiant game of tag with the regime’s censors until they called his bluff with cruel consequences. He grew up a refugee in his own country, the son of a poet who was branded an enemy of the state. The year Ai was born, his family was banished to the Gobi Desert by Mao Zedong’s government. And while he’s no Angelina Jolie as he roams through the refugee camps with his Human Flow crew, he remains a figure of considerable privilege. So he keeps a modest profile in the film, popping up every now and then as a comforting soul who offers solace and diversion to those around him. Migrating from one camp to another, he manages to submerge himself in his own film.
“You have to be quiet, shut up, and just watch,” he explains. “At the same time, you have to be patient, and let the audience come to its own conclusion. This is not an educational film. It’s about beauty, feeling, suffering, empathy, and how to share. It’s about tolerance.”
Yet there’s much to be learned along the way, as subtitled statistics float across the screen: the up-to-the-moment number of almost half a million Muslims escaping rape and murder in Burma; the one million refugees in Macedonia who over the years have squeezed through a crude metal gate the size of something you’d find in a farmer’s field; the three million trapped in Turkey as Europe turned its back; the Palestinians’ grim world record for having the largest refugee population of more than four million; the fact that whole generations in Gaza have never known a world without a wall or checkpoints; and a note that the number of countries that have fenced-off borders has risen from 11 to 70 since the Berlin Wall fell in 1989.
But keeping pace with the numerical tide are lines from ancient poets, like this one from the 11th-century Persian mystic Baba Tahir: “I am that sea and have come into a bowl.” And as we hopscotch from one refugee camp to another, from the Mediterranean to Iraq, from the ruins of Lebanon to sub-Saharan Africa, the declension of catastrophe is framed with jarring interludes of visual poetry. Human Flow’s aerial vistas recall Canadian photographer Edward Burtynsky’s epic images of environmental ruin, which portray the infernal beauty of the oil sands and tailing ponds without needing to pass judgment. There’s a satanic majesty to the blackened skies and orange blaze of oil wells torched by ISIS forces retreating from Mosul. As hordes of African refugees are systemically swathed in golden space blankets, then marched into buses, it’s like an alien abduction. And the cool cinematic neutrality of a drone shot that shows a tent city as an intriguing off-white canvas, where insects slowly turn out to be people, is deeply disturbing.
“It becomes so abstract,” says Ai, “then gradually you see some movement. It’s beautiful and shocking at the same time. As you jump from one location to another, you need an overview. Luckily, we have a technology—only God can have a view like that. It shows how fragile our human condition can be.” And it suggests the perspective of a world that wants to keep its distance from what’s happening on its borders. In Germany, where refugee camps are cleaner and better organized, the camera flies indoors, over a white-cubicle maze of numbered bedrooms without ceilings in an aircraft hanger. The camp looks like a movie set, an Orwellian parody of suburbia.
At the core of Ai’s vision, which slides so fluidly between global and individual arenas, is a challenge to the conventional wisdom that, amid so much mass suffering, an individual—one of countless sunflower seeds—is powerless to effect change. When I ask if he does in fact feel like one of the world’s most powerful artists, Ai says, “I feel powerful when I’m really defending essential values such as human rights. If you still have a voice and can constantly talk about freedom of speech, you feel powerful. But you also feel disappointed because those things require everybody to act. Everybody has to make a decision—to make one action against those human conditions.”
I am writing this column from an airplane, on my way from Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, to my new home, Wellesley, Mass. I’m in a comfortable seat, and I’m looking forward to getting back to my family. About 12 hours ago, though, I was miserable, locked in a holding cell by Malaysia’s “religious police.”
The story began a few months ago, when the Islamic Renaissance Front, a reformist, progressive Muslim organization in Malaysia, invited me to give a series of lectures on Islam, reason and freedom. The group had hosted me three times before in the past five years for similar events and also published the Malay version of my book “Islam Without Extremes: A Muslim Case for Liberty.” I was glad for the chance to visit Malaysia again.
I arrived in Kuala Lumpur on Sept. 22. The next day I gave my first lectureon the suppression of rational theology by dogmatists in early Islam, making the point that this “intellectual suicide” still haunts Muslim civilization.
The second talk was on a more controversial topic: apostasy from Islam. I argued that Muslims must uphold freedom of conscience, in line with the Quranic dictum “No compulsion in religion.” I said that apostasy should not be punished by death, as it is in Saudi Arabia, or with “rehabilitation,” as it is in Malaysia. The practice of Islam must be on the basis of freedom, not coercion, and governments shouldn’t police religion or morality.
It turns out all you have to do is speak of the police and they will appear.
At the end of my talk, a group of serious-looking men came into the lecture hall and showed me badges indicating that they were “religion enforcement officers.”
“We heard that you just gave an unauthorized talk on religion,” one of the men said. “And we got complaints about it.” They took me to another room, photographed me and asked questions about my speech.
When they were done with their questioning, they handed me a piece of paper with Malay writing on it and told me that I shouldn’t speak again without proper authorization. They also warned me away from my next planned talk, which was going to be about my most recent book, “The Islamic Jesus: How the King of the Jews Became a Prophet of the Muslims.”
“We heard that you will speak about commonalities between Islam, Judaism and Christianity,” one officer said. “We don’t like that kind of stuff.” Then they left.
After all this, I consulted with my hosts, and we decided to cancel the final lecture. I assumed that was the end of the matter and went shopping for gifts for my wife and children.
Later in the day, I went to the Kuala Lumpur International Airport to begin the 30-hour trip back to Massachusetts. When I gave my passport to the border police, I realized that my experience with offending Malaysia’s Islamic sensibilities wasn’t over.
“You need to wait, sir,” said the woman who checked my passport. She called some police officers, who called other police officers, who took me to a room where my arrest order was read to me. Apparently the religious police, known as JAWI, wanted to interrogate me again for my “unauthorized” talk on religious freedom and had issued that arrest order to make sure I didn’t leave the country.
I was taken from the airport to a police station, then to another station. Finally, I was taken to the JAWI headquarters, where I was locked up.
To be fair, nobody was rude to me, let alone cruel. Still, I was distressed: I had been arrested in an alien country whose laws and language I did not understand. I had no idea what would happen to me — and, most painfully, when I would see my wife, Riada, our 2-year-old son, Levent, and our 2-month-old baby, Efe.
In the morning, I was taken to a Shariah court, which is used in Malaysia to adjudicate religious issues, where I was interrogated for two hours. At the end, to my surprise, I was let go. Soon I learned that this was greatly facilitated by the diplomatic efforts of my country, Turkey — and especially the contact made by a former Turkish president, Abdullah Gul, with Malaysian royalty.
This incident showed me once again that there is a major problem in Islam today: a passion to impose religion, rather than merely proposing it, a mind-set that most Christians left behind at the time of the Inquisition.
Luckily, there are antidotes within Islam to this problem. One of them is the Quranic verse that the JAWI officers repeatedly chided me for daring to recite: “No compulsion in religion.”
In fact, mainstream Muslim tradition, reflecting its illiberal context, never fully appreciated the freedom implied by this verse — and other ones with similar messages. “The ‘no compulsion’ verse was a problem to the earliest exegetes,” as Patricia Crone, a scholar of Islamic history, has noted. “And they reacted by interpreting it restrictively.” The verse was declared “abrogated,” or its scope was radically limited.
This is still evident in a parenthetical that is too frequently inserted into translations of the verse. “There shall be no compulsion in religion (in becoming a Muslim).” I’d known that Saudi translations added those extra words at the end. Now I have learned that the Malaysian authorities do, too. They append the extra phrase because while they agree with the Quran that no one should be forced to become a Muslim, they think that Muslims should be compelled to practice the religion — in the way that the authorities define. They also believe that if Muslims decide to abandon their religion, they must be punished for “apostasy.”
One of the officers at my Malaysian Shariah court trial proudly told me that all of this was being done to “protect religion.” But I have an important message for her (which I didn’t share at the time): By policing religion, the authorities are not really protecting it. They are only enfeebling their societies, raising hypocrites and causing many people to lose their faith in or respect for Islam.
I came to understand that while I was being held in the JAWI headquarters, listening to a loud Quranic recitation coming from the next room. I heard the Quran and for the first time in my life it sounded like the voice of an oppressor. But I did not give in to that impression. “I hear you and I trust in you, God,” I said as I prayed, “despite these bigots who act in your name.”
Surprising that someone like Marrus whose extensive scholarship on the Holocaust and human rights could make such a flippant and inappropriate remark:
Massey College, an independent residential college affiliated with the University of Toronto, is under pressure from faculty and students to sever its relationship with one of the university’s professors after a comment he made was denounced as racist.
The comment was made during lunch on Tuesday by Michael Marrus, an emeritus history professor at the University of Toronto, scholar of the Holocaust, and a Senior Fellow at Massey.
Dr. Marrus was sitting with three Junior Fellows, graduate or professional students whose academic and extracurricular accomplishments have earned them a prestigious residence spot at Massey.
Hugh Segal, who leads the school and has the title of Master of Massey College, asked whether he could join the table. At that point, Dr. Marrus asked a black Junior Fellow: “You know this is your master, eh? Do you feel the lash?”
After the students left the table, Mr. Segal stayed and spoke to the professor.
“I made it clear to the Senior Fellow that the remark was completely inappropriate,” Mr. Segal said.
The three students took the issue to the dean of the college the same day and the comment was raised at a meeting of Massey’s governing board the same day. A written complaint by nine students – the three present during the lunch and additional members of the diversity committee – has been lodged with Mr. Segal, who is working with Massey’s governing board to deal with the requests made by the students.
In the wake of the comments, a petition signed by almost 200 faculty and students was sent to Massey College on Thursday asking for Dr. Marrus to end his association with the college.
“In our eyes, the very legitimacy of Massey College hinges on the effectiveness of your response to this incident,” the petition states. “We encourage you to approach this moment with the seriousness it demands, and with the courage and vision to make this an occasion for fulsome transformation.”
The petition also asks that the college issue a formal public apology, organize mandatory anti-racism training and drop the title “master” to refer to its director.
Mr. Segal said he would be open to that change.
“The term is tied to Oxbridge and the idea of master of one’s craft or art, not a master-slave reference. But we should be open to revision if it is no longer appropriate,” he said.
That demand has been made in the past. As a result, a task force has worked for several months examining whether to drop the title. It will report back in several weeks, Mr. Segal said.
He has also invited the students to meet with him.
Dr. Marrus did not respond to a request for comment. He is a Fellow of the Royal Society of Canada, the author of eight books on the Holocaust, including The Holocaust in History, Lessons of the Holocaust and co-author of Vichy France and the Jews, and a former dean of the University of Toronto’s school of graduate studies.
That history does not excuse the remark or make it less hurtful or offensive, Mr. Segal said.
“His scholarship would indicate someone who has fought his entire life for human rights. Younger Junior Fellows may not be familiar with it; it is reasonable to react how they did,” he said.
A predecessor, Vincent Massey, once said: “Canada is not a melting pot. Canada is an association of peoples who have, and cherish, great differences but who work together because they can respect themselves and each other.” Today we call this pluralism, and I believe Canada’s opportunity lies in its ability to show the world how pluralism is a viable path to lasting peace and prosperity. Canada is a social innovation, a constantly evolving work-in-progress based upon the notion that diverse peoples can live and work together toward an ever-more inclusive, fair and just society.
Of course, we have no cause for complacency. Intolerance does exist here and it is essential that we resist efforts to reduce diversity and restrict inclusiveness. Canada’s progress as a country has always grown from a commitment to diversity, inclusiveness and pluralism. Success in such a vast, diverse and challenging land requires that we work together. This is the story of our country and it’s important that we know and understand its uniqueness, significance and how embedded the principles of partnership and compromise are in the very fabric of Canada. This is the path forward.
There are two related, critical elements that Canada should pay close attention to in the years to come: learning and trust. As a lifelong student and teacher, I believe education is the key to ensuring equality of opportunity for all Canadians and to achieving the pinnacles of excellence that allow us to innovate and lead in a technologically advanced world. From early-childhood education and literacy to reconciliation between Indigenous and non-Indigenous peoples to research at the outer limits of knowledge, we must make learning a central part of our lives. Doing so will reinforce the second critical element – trust – by which I mean trust in one another and in the institutions which are the glue that binds Canadians together. Inequalities and the rapid changes brought about by globalization have undermined trust in Canada and throughout much of the world, but a society that learns and works together in an inclusive manner will see the basis for that sense of mistrust replaced by a sense of hope.
So, what have I learned as Governor-General? One, while Canada still has much work to do in building a more inclusive society, our diversity is a strength and a comparative advantage in the world. Two, in Canada, past, present and no doubt future, we’re stronger and more prosperous when we compromise and work together. And three, despite our many cultures, ethnic origins and languages spoken, we all have a great deal in common – a great deal called Canada. Let this be a country that draws on the diverse talents and abilities of all its peoples in steering a course through this complex, changing world.
The empty lot in North Preston, N.S., has been in the hands of Elaine Cain’s family for many years, a connection that stirs in her a sentimental bond with the piece of land.
But despite the fact her family has long paid property taxes on it, they have never held the deed.
On Wednesday, Cain welcomed as a “bright day” an announcement by the Nova Scotia government that it will provide funding to help people in five historically black communities gain legal ownership over land they’ve claimed as theirs for generations.
“I think it will be great because this is what we have been looking for,” she said in an interview. “It will give us … a boost, actually, to do whatever it is that we have or plan to do. I’m confident that they’ll help me.”
The province said it will spend $2.7 million over two years to help residents obtain legal title to land in the communities of North Preston, East Preston and Cherry Brook in the Halifax Regional Municipality, and in Lincolnville and Sunnyville in Guysborough County.
No deeds to black settlers
The problem can be traced back two centuries, when the government gave plots of land to Black Loyalists for their support during the American Revolutionary War and to Black Refugees, former slaves who sought refuge after the War of 1812. The government, however, did not give deeds, which meant those who settled never officially owned the land they lived on.
The repercussions today are that, without clear title, residents cannot sell their property or legally pass it down to other relatives. The province says that out of the 1,620 total land parcels in Cherry Brook, East Preston and North Preston, for instance, about a third are without clear title.
Cain said she’s had her property surveyed, but because of a dispute with some family members, she can’t get the deed. She said she needs money to pay for legal costs.
If she gets clear title, Cain plans to build a home and a small teahouse for seniors. She hopes to make an application for funding within a week.
African Nova Scotian Affairs Minister Tony Ince made the funding announcement Wednesday in Cherry Brook. The money will pay for a surveyor and two surveyor technicians, two community liaison officers to help residents with the process, and will help cover legal fees related to clarifying land ownership.
Interesting that the Post seems to be only covering the hearings with CPC-nominated witnesses:
27 Sep:
Jay Cameron, Justice Centre of Constitutional Freedoms
Raheel Raza, Council for Muslims Facing Tomorrow
Peter Bhatti, International Christian Voice
Father Raymond de Souza
and not the hearings with government-appointed ones:
25 Sep:
Ayesha S. Chaudhry, Canada Research Chair in Religion, Law and Social Justice
Avvy Yao-Yao Go, Chinese and Southeast Asian Legal Clinic
Shawn Richard, Canadian Association of Black Lawyers
Shalini Konanur, South Asian Legal Clinic of Ontario.
Lack of reporter time, or lack of balance?
The Liberals’ anti-Islamophobia motion, M-103, could lead to thought control, oppression, disharmony and the criminalization of non-Muslims, the House of Commons heritage committee heard Wednesday, during some of the most extreme criticism of the motion it has heard to date.
It was a hearing that showcased much of the confusion and polarizing rhetoric that has swirled around M-103 since it was tabled by Liberal MP Iqra Khalid in December 2016, and highlighted doubts about the language of the motion. While the committee is supposed to be gathering recommendations for how to combat racism, several committee members spent much of their time trying to explain what M-103 actually means.
Liberal MP Julie Dabrusin was at pains to clarify that the motion is not a law, that the committee is not drafting a law and that the committee’s recommendations won’t create a new law. The committee is currently conducting a study of racism and religious discrimination, as required by M-103, which was passed in March.
“We’re just doing a study,” said Liberal MP Julie Dzerowicz.
The Liberals spent so much time trying to explain M-103 that, at one point, Conservative MP David Anderson accused them of “filibustering their time.”
“It seems they’ve been more interested in hearing their own voices than anyone else’s,” he said.
Still, some of the witnesses painted dire portraits of what might happen if criticism of Islam were somehow banned in Canada. Jay Cameron, a lawyer with the Justice Centre of Constitutional Freedoms, spent several minutes explaining that M-103 could prevent Canadians from criticizing such practices as female genital mutilation. He also claimed the motion implies that the government should police the thoughts of its citizens.
One of the better commentaries that I have seen but welcome comments from those closer to UK politics:
In responding to this morning’s debate on party rule changes, Jim Kennedy, the Labour national executive committee (NEC) member who moved them, shook his head in wonder: “The rules used to be the most mundane part of the conference.” He was correct to reflect that the passionate attention paid to rule changes is a sign of the newly vibrant nature of the party’s internal democracy.
One of those rule changes looks like it should have been uncontroversial in a party where anti-racism is a central value:
“No member of the party shall engage in conduct which in the opinion of the NEC is prejudicial, or in any act which in the opinion of the NEC is grossly detrimental to the party. The NEC shall take account of any codes of conduct currently in force and shall regard any incident which in their view might reasonably be seen to demonstrate hostility or prejudice based on age; disability; gender reassignment or identity; marriage and civil partnership; pregnancy and maternity; race; religion or belief; sex; or sexual orientation as prejudicial to the party; these shall include but not be limited to incidents involving racism, antisemitism, Islamophobia or otherwise racist language, sentiments, stereotypes or actions, sexual harassment, bullying or any form of intimidation towards another person on the basis of a protected characteristic as determined by the NEC, wherever it occurs, as conduct prejudicial to the party.”
To the untrained eye, the manner in which the amendment was proposed looks like a welcome example of the party coming together after a fractious series of widely publicised controversies over antisemitism. It was proposed by the Jewish Labour Movement – which represents those Jews in the party who are Zionists – but it was also endorsed by Jeremy Corbyn himself, whose relationship with Zionism is sceptical to say the least, together with Momentum, some of whose activists have been accused in the past of antisemitism.
But such is the ability of antisemitism to spark conflict in the Labour party, that the amendment has not gone unchallenged, despite the apparent consensus. Labour Party Marxists already told its members: “This is supported by the Jewish Labour Movement, which already tells you that you should probably oppose without even having to read it.” There have been calls to expel the JLM for its support for Israel, including by delegate Sara Callaway during the debate.
Leah Levane, a Jewish delegate from Hastings and Rye, whose constituency had initially put forward a different wording, reluctantly withdrew her amendment in favour of the NEC one but not without a sharply worded declaration that the Jewish Labour Movement did not speak for her. Then, in the response to the debate, Naomi Wimborne-Idrissi castigated the JLM for “running to the Daily Mail and the Telegraph with stories” before objecting to the reference in Levane’s amendment to “holding” beliefs since: “That’s thought crime, comrades, and we can’t be having it.” Wimborne-Idrissi also lauded the launch the previous evening of Jewish Voice for Labour, a group that aims to push back at what it sees as attempts to “widen” the definition of antisemitism.
The controversy over antisemitism in Labour is therefore unlikely to go away any time soon. However much the party’s rules might condemn antisemitism and enable disciplinary action against those accused of it, there is no getting around the fact that there are competing definitions of what antisemitism consists of. That Jews themselves disagree only complicates matters further.
Nonetheless, the fact that the JLM, the NEC, Corbyn and Momentum were able to cooperate in this matter does suggest a desire to come together for the good of the party. Indeed, the JLM’s Twitter account proclaimed “help Jeremy Corbyn fight antisemitism”, a striking refutation of the accusation that the group is seeking to undermine his leadership. As Mike Katz from the JLM and Philip Cohen, a Jewish councillor from Finchley, both argued from the platform, the amendment might help to rally Jews back to Labour in some constituencies. The desire to achieve power can be a way of concentrating minds of Corbynites and Labour Zionists alike.
The amendment is another example of the tension between enabling free debate within Labour and ensuring it is a disciplined party that can win elections (the lack of Brexit debate is another). If Polly Toynbee is right and Corbyn has been transformed into a politically savvy pragmatist, then his backing of the amendment is a manifestation of this. What remains to be seen is whether those who spoke against the amendment will accept the inevitable restraint that this implies.
Good piece by Yakabuski on the Canadian centre left consensus on multiculturalism:
Bref, la chef du Bloc québécois, Martine Ouellet, se trompe de cible quand elle se dit inquiète de la montée de la gauche religieuse. Il n’y a tout simplement pas de gauche religieuse au Canada. La gauche canadienne est multiculturaliste, point. Même ceux qui ne l’appuient pas voient dans la candidature de M. Singh l’incarnation même de la modernité canadienne.
C’est ainsi que Justin Trudeau a pu dire au New York Times, en 2015, que le Canada serait le premier État postnational sans que l’opposition monte aux barricades. Les propos du premier ministre témoignaient de l’évolution de l’identité canadienne depuis l’instauration de la politique officielle de multiculturalisme et de la Charte canadienne des droits et libertés par son père Pierre Trudeau. Finie l’époque où les Canadiens angoissaient devant la faiblesse de leur identité face à la menace américaine. Si le Canada anglais s’est donné un projet de société, c’est celui de créer un nouveau modèle d’appartenance dont le monde entier pourrait s’inspirer. Selon l’ancienne gouverneure générale Adrienne Clarkson, elle-même réfugiée, le Canada ne serait rien de moins qu’une « société expérimentale ».
Bien sûr, la diversité comme projet de société n’emballe pas tous les Canadiens. Mais ses critiques ne se trouvent pas à gauche. Et même le nouveau chef du Parti conservateur, Andrew Scheer, ne se presse pas de s’associer à leur cause, ayant évincé sa rivale à la course au leadership Kellie Leitch du cabinet conservateur fantôme. L’opposition des candidats à la chefferie néodémocrate au projet de loi no 62 du gouvernement du Québec, interdisant le port du niqab lors de la prestation ou de la réception de services publics à des fins de sécurité, s’inscrit dans une philosophie d’inclusion où les accommodements sont devenus la norme dans une société multireligieuse. Si la plupart des Canadiens ne voient pas dans ces accommodements une menace à la laïcité de l’État, c’est parce qu’ils ont été conditionnés à croire que la même Constitution qui protège les droits des personnes croyantes protège aussi tous les Canadiens contre des gouvernements qui voudraient adopter des lois au nom de la religion. En quoi M. Singh, qui n’a d’ailleurs jamais manifesté un quelconque désir d’imposer sa religion aux autres, serait-il différent d’un catholique pratiquant à la tête du pays ?
Les Québécois ont peut-être une autre idée de la laïcité, influencée par leur histoire de catholicisme oppressant et par le républicanisme français. Mais de là à disqualifier des leaders politiques à cause de leur religion, il y a une marge.
McLaughlin, head of personal and commercial banking for the Royal Bank of Canada, on how to leverage and benefit from diversity:
Canada is one of the world’s most diverse countries. Business gets it.
Diversity and inclusion are part of our values. They’re critical to the future prosperity of our country. They’re a business imperative and key for growth and innovation.
We know this. So what are we doing about it?
That’s a growing challenge for Canadian businesses as we come to grips with twin revolutions in the technology we use and the society we serve.
This summer, Royal Bank of Canada (RBC) and the Institute for Canadian Citizenship surveyed 64 leading organizations – from hospitals to technology firms – that collectively employ 1.2 million Canadians to ask them about diversity and inclusion: how they define it, how they go about promoting it and how they measure it.
The survey results will be released at the 6 Degrees Conference in Toronto on Sept. 26, and the findings are both encouraging and concerning. Canadian business gets diversity, but we’re struggling with inclusion – an imprecise and ambiguous word that most employers don’t know how to approach. Diversity is often considered to be what we see. It’s a fact. Inclusion is what we hear – how we value, respect and involve everyone. It’s a choice.
Nearly 90 per cent of organizations in the survey strongly believe diverse and inclusive teams make better decisions. And, as we deal with whipsaw changes in the digital revolution, we realize we need more diverse perspectives than ever.
Here’s the rub. Where the majority of organizations see themselves as diverse, and go to great lengths to foster diversity, few have found a way to come to grips with inclusion strategically.
The numbers tell the story: 65 per cent strongly agree that leveraging diversity is fundamental to organizational performance, but only 10 per cent say they’re taking full advantage of a diverse work force. Only 20 per cent tie diversity and inclusion results to performance objectives and only 10 per cent measure the effects of diversity and inclusion on innovation.
In roundtables across the country, we heard shared concerns from different and diverse companies. A mining giant saw attracting more women as an answer to the problem of an aging work force – and then realized at its mine sites it didn’t have goggles or helmets that fit them properly. A state-of-the-art hospital in a low-income neighbourhood discovered that many of the residents its serves view it as the “castle on a hill” rather than a health-care partner or potential employer.
These firms recognized that while they’re surrounded by diversity, they’re not harnessing it and, therefore, are not moving at the pace of change of the communities around them. We all know we have more talent, more ideas, more passion, more perspectives than we use. In business, we’d call it a stranded asset.
When you consider that Canada accepts 300,000 immigrants annually, that one-fifth of Canadians are visible minorities and that 60 per cent of Canadian females between the ages of 25 and 64 have post-secondary degrees, the survey numbers tell us we need to do better. Add to that the fact global talent is highly mobile, and it’s clear: We need to do better now.
At RBC, we’ve seen incredible creativity and innovation through a co-op program, Amplify, that encourages students – two-thirds of whom were born outside Canada – to solve some of RBC’s most complex business challenges. We’re taking that diversity of thought and trying to leverage it for better business results. That’s inclusion.
It’s not about relying on the “smartest person in the room” but the talent of many. It’s about the whole being greater than the sum of the parts. As our Amplify program shows, a diverse group of engaged people is more likely to solve a challenge than a genius lone wolf. This diversity of thought is where you get innovation.
If we are to tackle challenges such as climate change and health care, we need to cultivate the talents of all our best minds. We need to see inclusion not as an employee-engagement tool, but a core part of corporate strategy and a way to build stronger communities.
So, how can Canadian employers leverage the country’s diversity to come up with new ways of thinking and working? Here are some ideas we heard in conversation with organizations across the country: Get the strategy group to make diversity and inclusion their own priority. Adopt innovation metrics to see how inclusion is paying off. Make it a central part of every leadership discussion. Promote a questioning culture, to engage the minds of the many, not just those who think they’ve got it figured out. Measure, measure, measure. Compensate accordingly. Repeat.
Canadian business gets it. Now we need to act on it.
Multicultural Meanderings 