 Written Format of Justice For All Canada’s address at the UN Human Rights Council.
By: Tazeen Hassan, Justice For All Canada, Campaign Manager My name is Tazeen Hasan, and I am honored to represent Justice For All, an organization dedicated to combating global Islamophobia particularly the one which leads to genocide. It is a privilege to address the 56th session of the Human Rights Council in Geneva. I extend my gratitude to all the organizers of this event for addressing such a timely and relevant issue that impacts 2 billion Muslims worldwide, constituting nearly one-fourth of the world's population. We live in a world where Islamophobia intersects not only with settler colonialism, apartheid, and ethnic cleansing but also culminates in genocide, as witnessed in India, Kashmir, China, Myanmar and now in Gaza. Unfortunately, we are gathering at a time when the Israeli bombardment of Gaza has entered its ninth month, a situation deemed a plausible case of genocide by the ICJ. While it is evident that 75-years long Israeli aggression towards Palestinains is driven by settler colonization, the silence of Western powers appears rooted in Islamophobia. During the recent G7 summit in Italy, a special event was organized for Ukraine, yet Gaza received no comparable consideration, despite widespread acknowledgment that Israeli actions against Palestinians are far more brutal than Russian actions in Ukraine. Prompt arrest warrants were issued against Putin, whereas warrants against Netanyahu still remain pending. These double standards are clearly indicative of Islamophobia. Islamophobia has existed as long as Islam itself. The persecution of Muslims by the Quraysh was an early manifestation of this prejudice. Islamophobia fueled the Crusades, the Spanish Inquisition, the anti-Muslim rhetoric of Eurocentric orientalists, and the vilification of the Prophet by Voltaire in 17th century France. Islamophobia manifests in various forms: the Naqab and Burkini bans in France, discriminatory immigration policies and the anti-immigrant shift in Western politics, the rise of far-right power in recent EU election results, predominantly Muslim no-fly lists in Canada and the US, and the suspension of anti-war peaceful student protesters at Harvard and Columbia, where their constitutional rights of freedom of expression and peaceful assembly were denied. This pattern is also evident in media and narrative framing, with any criticism of India and Hindutva being labeled as Hinduphobia, and criticism of Israel being labeled as Anti-Semitism. Neither Islamophobia nor the use of arts to express it is novelty. Islamophobia still persists in various forms of art. For example, the 2015 film 'American Sniper' which vilified Iraqis who suffered from a war waged on the fabricated pretext of weapons of mass destruction. Similarly, Bollywood movies like 'Kerala Story' and 'Kashmir Files' depict Muslims as villains and aggressors, perpetuating negative stereotypes. Films like 'Article 370' also whitewashed the Indian genocide in Kashmir. When Islamophobia is combined with majoratarianism, occupation, settler colonization, apartheid, and ethnic cleansing, it often results in genocide. In India, this manifests through majoritarianism and legislations like the CAA, which strips citizenship rights from Muslims. The Chief Minister of the biggest Indian state of Uttara Paradesh, is known as 'Bulldozer Baba,' because he gained notoriety for demolishing Muslim homes with bulldozers. His influence extends beyond India; in 2022, an Indian independence rally in New Jersey prominently featured a bulldozer adorned with images of Yogi Adityanath, celebrating his anti-Muslim policies. This blatant display abroad begs the question: what else but Islamophobia could drive such actions in the world's largest democracy? Islamophobia is fueling yet another genocide. Millions of Uyghurs in north west of China have been detained for signs of extremism. Simply having a beard, naming children Muhammad or Omar, fasting during Ramadan, or having more than three children results in sentences of 10 to 20 years in prison. Even those not guilty of practicing their faith were sent to reeducation camps, where they were coerced into abandoning their Islamic and Uyghur identities. Upon release, they are sent to forced labor camps to become part of China's export industry. Families have been torn apart, with children sent to state-run orphanages. Uyghur women face forced sterilizations to curb Uyghur births. According to genocide convention, preventions of births in a community and transferring its children to another community is considered genocide. This genocidal project under the pretext of combating islamic extremism is almost at its completion. The stateless Rohingya of Myanmar are enduring a slow genocide for decades, which escalated into a full-scale genocide in 2017 when they suffered brutal killings, rapes, and the burning of their homes and villages by the Burmese army. Around one million Rohingya fled to Bangladesh, where they now face a miserable humanitarian crisis. Canada was the first Western country to recognize the Rohingya genocide in 2018. Six years later, we are still in the initial stages of discussing whether we should offer them immigration. The same holds true for Palestinian children in Gaza, who endure genocide while the world watches, leaving them nowhere to seek refuge. In stark contrast, the Western world immediately and unconditionally opened its doors to Ukrainians as soon as conflict broke out there. These double standards glaringly highlight Islamophobia in geopolitics. Islamophobia is also manifesting itself in the environmental genocide of Kashmir under the BJP government. Time doesn't allow me to explain the genocidal policies of the Indian government which are fatal for the population of Kashmir. We inhabit a world that upholds international law, and we all share international obligations under genocide convention, Un charter of human rights, and International covenent of civil and political rights. In the end I will appreciate The UN general assembly’s resolution in March as a significant milestone in combating Islamophobia. However, I on behalf of Justice For All Canada recommend that UN the develops the mechanisms to combat geopolitical Islamophobia which is intersecting with occupation, settler colonization, apartheid and leading to genocide. In a powerful personal narrative, Tazeen Hasan captures the extraordinary journey of Jamal Arakani, a Rohingya refugee photographer, as he defies the odds and pursues his passion amidst adversity. From the confines of a refugee camp, Jamal's unwavering determination and unwritten dreams take center stage.
My name is Jamal, and I am a Rohingya refugee photographer. I was born and raised in the Kutupalong refugee camp in Cox Bazar, Bangladesh. From the moment I came into this world, I have never known anything other than life as a refugee. My motherland, Arakan, remains a distant dream, controlled by Myanmar while I am confined to the boundaries of the camp. The world often sees us refugees as a mass of people trapped in desperate conditions, living in abject poverty. Seldom do they recognize the dreams and creativity that reside within us. But even in the midst of such challenging circumstances, I refused to let go of my aspirations. From a young age, I nurtured a burning desire to become a journalist, to tell the stories of my people and shed light on the injustices we face. Unfortunately, as a refugee, pursuing my dreams seemed like an impossible task. I didn't have access to high-end cameras or sophisticated equipment. I didn't even possess the basic documentation or identity papers that would allow me to move freely. But that didn't stop me from dreaming or striving for my goals. With determination and resourcefulness, I began taking photographs with my friend's mobile phone. I would capture the daily life in the camp, the struggles and the moments of resilience. I started sharing these pictures on social media, hoping to give voice to the plight of my people. One day, out of the blue, I received a message on Twitter from someone who wanted to use my pictures. I agreed, and although I was not credited for my images, they generously gifted me some money. With that small amount, I purchased a second-hand smartphone from a neighbor and began taking photographs daily, using my own equipment. In 2017, when the October crisis erupted in Rakhine state, an overwhelming number of Rohingya people fled from Myanmar to seek refuge in Bangladesh. I was there, with my camera in hand, documenting the heart-wrenching scenes before me. I captured the pain, the fear, and the resilience of my people as they navigated through the chaos. I sent my photographs and video footage to various international media outlets, hoping that the world would bear witness to our struggle. Over time, my work started to gain recognition. Images I had captured made their way to prestigious publications such as The Guardian, Reuters, Paris Match, Al Jazeera, BBC News Bangla, Tempo English, CNN Voice of America, Head On Photo Festival, Peoples Dispatch, and more. It was a bittersweet feeling because, as a refugee, I lacked the necessary identity papers to claim credit for my work. I had no bank account to receive payment or formal recognition. But despite this, I found solace and joy in knowing that my creative work had made it to the eyes of the world through these renowned channels. Being a refugee comes with its share of limitations and struggles, but it does not define us solely by our circumstances. It does not strip us of our dreams or our creative spirit. I am Jamal, a Rohingya refugee photographer, and I am determined to continue capturing the stories of my people, even if I remain nameless and unrecognized. Through my lens, I hope to bring attention to the resilience, strength, and humanity that exists within the refugee community. This is a story of personal resilience and determination of a born refugee #Refugeephotography #HumanizingRefugeeStoriesThroughTheLens #Rohingya-Myanmar  Credit: MD Jamal, Rohingya volunteerOnce upon a time, there was a young Rohingya named Sirajul Islam, known as Ajus Khan on every social media platform.
Ajus lived in a small village called Maungdaw Baggona Para, in Myanmar, with family and friends, surrounded by lush green forests and rolling hills. He loved their homeland and cherished the memories they had made there. One day, the Myanmar military launched a brutal crackdown on the Rohingya population, forcing his family to flee their home. They escaped to Bangladesh and ended up in the largest Rohingya refugee camp in the world, located in Kutupalong, Ukhiya, Cox's Bazar. Life in the refugee camp was difficult and painful. His family were forced to live in cramped, makeshift shelters with no privacy or comfort. They struggled to find enough food and clean water. There was no access to proper medical care. Worst of all, there were no schools in the camp, which meant that Ajus and the other children had no opportunity to learn and grow. Despite the harsh conditions, Ajus remained determined to survive and thrive. He spent his days helping his family and assisting his community, always searching for ways to make life better for those around them. He made new friends and found comfort in the support of others who had been through similar experiences. Years passed and Ajus continued to live in the camps, always hoping for a better future. They remained strong and resilient, never giving up in the face of adversity. And although life in the camp was difficult, Ajust learned the true meaning of community and the power of hope. Now, over five years later, Ajus remains in the camp, but his spirit remains unbroken. He knows that one day, he’ll be able to return to his homeland and rebuild their lives. And until that day comes, Ajus will continue to fight for their survival and the endurance of his fellow refugees. This is a personal reflection written by Sirajul Islam, a Rohingya youth located in Kutupalong refugee camp in Cox’s Bazar, Bangladesh. With special thanks to Tazeen Hasan. |
