Honour on Trial (21 page)

In Dubai, as in most of the Middle East, honour crimes are not treated seriously and women who report rape or sexual abuse to police are often charged with a crime themselves. Take the case of a young British Pakistani woman, celebrating her engagement to her British fiancé in Dubai. She was raped by a hotel employee and, when she reported it to police, they charged her and her fiancé with drinking alcohol and having illegal sex.

In Jordan in 1994, 16-year-old Kifaya Husayn, was tied to a chair by her 32-year-old brother. He gave her a drink of water and told her to recite an Islamic prayer. Then he cut her throat. He then ran into the street, waving the bloody knife and crying, "I have killed my sister to cleanse my honour." Kifaya's "crime" was that she was raped by another brother. Kifaya's murderer was sentenced to 15 years, but the sentence was reduced to seven-and-a-half years, an extremely severe penalty by Jordanian standards.

Middle Eastern penal codes either exempt or hand down reduced sentences to male family members who murder their female relatives. Is it any wonder women are reluctant to report crimes of abuse? And is it any wonder that people like Mohammad Shafia think they are justified in murdering their own children?

The rise of religious fundamentalism across the Arab world has contributed to limiting gender equality for women. Fundamentalists, who do not accept gender equality, imprison women within limited social and political roles. The Jordanian royal family has supported efforts to fight the practice of honour killing but, even though the religious establishment attempted to prohibit the killing of women by male family members, a conservative parliament aborted a government initiative to amend laws that were too lenient in punishing such crimes.

Middle Eastern scholars and the Islamic establishment remind us, as did Professor Shahrzad Mojab at the Shafia trial, that the concept of honour killing pre-dates religion; it is a pre-Islamic, pagan, Arab tribal ritual that has slowly and insidiously been incorporated into (predominantly Muslim) Middle Eastern and Asian culture, where, unfortunately, most honour killings occur. It is a social and cultural problem, first and foremost. It is, in fact, a problem of gender equality in a patriarchal society. The Koran does not prescribe honour killing, and prohibits the "taking of the law into one's own hands."

The witnesses…

LATIF Hyderi has suffered greatly for his testimony at the trial. He now finds himself outside the Afghan community in Montreal, unsure sometimes whether he did the right thing when he agreed to testify against his own niece. He and his adult children have been shunned by the once close network of nine related families who emigrated from Afghanistan to Montreal. Did he do the right thing, he asks in his apartment a month after the trial ended.

"The question I ask is because, at the beginning, not just in [the] Afghan society, some of the Canadians abandoned me. We would go to the mosque and no one would talk to me," he said.

Hyderi said he and Shafia come from a culture in Afghanistan where men will kill women for honour, then go and report it to police without facing real justice. In Canada, he knew he had to stand up to Shafia. He stands by his testimony. "I request from the Afghan community, it is hard for me to see Tooba my niece in prison. It's very shameful," he said. "No matter what they think, even if they consider me an enemy, I tell the truth and nothing else."

Fahima Vorgetts, Rona's long-distance confidante from the United States, says the Shafias were not a liberal family, despite efforts to portray themselves that way during the trial. "A liberal man would not say the devil should shit on their graves," she said, recalling the ugly wiretap rantings.

"As far as I'm concerned, the man has no honour. There is no worst dishonour than murdering somebody," she said. "I describe it as stubbornness, ignorance, lack of education — control." She believes that immigrant families need to be told when they arrive in Canada and the U.S. that "they should not be bringing their own ideas" of inequality and violent retribution.

"When people come here, they should have an education in culture and law and rights. If everyone would take a class about what are the rights here, there should be respect for that. Maybe we can save some lives."

The lessons…

MICHELLE Dionne, a director with the Centre de jeunesse responsible for child safety in Quebec, told QMI Agency following the verdicts that inadequate investigation into the complaints relayed by the Shafia children were the result of a lack of awareness about honour killings, coupled with poor data-sharing between agencies.

Police and social workers investigated the family at home and at their school on three separate occasions. Each time the files were closed because officials said stability had been restored in the family and the children were not sticking to their complaints. Dionne said they are now more sensitive to cultural differences in suspected abuse cases.

"Our investigation did not go far [enough]," she said. "If we had had all the pieces of the puzzle at the time, it is legitimate to ask if we could have acted otherwise. The answer is yes. But, again, could we have prevented this tragedy?"

According to Melpa Kamateros, the executive director of The Shield of Athena Family Services in Montreal, an organization that helps victims of family violence, the Shafia murders are part of "a new wave of family violence" that echoes patterns from the past.

"In history, if you trace it even in European countries, you have honour crimes. The issues are, women are very often seen as objects to be controlled and to be limited and disciplined," said Kamateros.

She views honour crimes as a "sub-category" of domestic violence. "People in general are scared to label it but I think we're going in that direction. Our caseworkers are noticing situations related to honour. There are efforts to control the way a young woman dresses and the way she acts. The height of the cycle is murder," said Kamateros. "Forced marriages come into this as well."

The big difference she sees is other family members being involved in the crime. "There's family complicity," she said. "It doesn't present the same way as conjugal violence. With all this media publicity, a good thing is social services are more aware of the need to adapt. But there are still gaps to be filled."

In March of 2012, Prime Minister Stephen Harper went to the Shield of Athena Family Services to announce a grant of $348,000 for an awareness campaign against honour crimes. He specifically cited the Shafia case, saying all Canadians should remember the four women who died at Kingston. "There is nothing honourable about so-called honour crimes," said the Prime Minister. "Indeed, this is a barbaric practice which our laws rightly deem to be heinous and indefensible acts and nothing less."

The Shafias were not clients of The Shield of Athena but the organization, which offers services in 17 languages to female victims of violence, has a long history of bringing education and awareness campaigns to ethnic communities to try to stop conjugal and family violence. Melpa Kamateros said the experience of the Shafias and the Afghan community is nothing new in Canada.

"There is a historical basis to honour crimes. We're dealing with something that has been around for a long time. We can't generalize and say Afghans are violent toward their daughters. No one community is more violent than another. What we can say is people haven't benefited from the information we have had in Canada."

Kamateros agrees with Fahima Vorgetts that new immigrant families need to be given upfront a set of information, in their own language, that makes clear for them the social expectations and, particularly for women, what rights they have in their new home. "Basic information on human rights," she said. "Information on conjugal violence."

That information should include something about the history of violence, what resources are available if you are a victim of violence, the legal consequences for men, and how the family unit is damaged by family violence. That's exactly what The Shield of Athena did 20 years ago in Montreal when they realized women from Greek families who came to Canada in the 1950s wave of immigration were not showing up at shelters for women in numbers proportionate with other ethnic groups. A quick survey of 10 shelters showed that in the course of one year, only one Greek woman had come forward for protection. They translated all of the existing material into Greek and began going to Orthodox churches to speak about conjugal violence. More than 300 people would stay around after the mass to hear the talk, which was also attended by police officers and social workers.

"What we were not expecting were the victims, Kamateros recalled. "After every session we would get victims. They had lived an abusive life for the past 20 or 30 years and could not get support."

Clearly, the Shafia girls did not have a problem with communicating in French or English. They were victims of a terrible breakdown in communications between the authorities — the police and youth protection agencies — who should have been helping them.

"There's a lot of fear for women to break the cycle of violence even when they speak perfect English and French," said Kamateros. She pointed out that it is also important to get the message to the wider ethnic communities at large. "The situation is very bad for the victim but we can't give up on that community because the victim has to go back to that community."

It is clear from the reaction Latif Hyderi has received from the Afghan community in Montreal that the community is in need of information in their own language. "Our solution to that," says Kamateros, "is that you have to open that [up] even more. It's a normal reaction for the community to retract and heal their wounds. No community wants to be stigmatized as violent. Changing perceptions doesn't happen overnight but, for those with the information, they can act if they wish."

Stephen Tanner was the chief of police in Kingston from the time of the murders to the completion of the trial. "We acknowledge there is a phenomenon called honour killing," he said. "The justice system doesn't believe there is honour in killing. A murder is a murder."

Yet Tanner also recognizes that police — along with school officials and youth protection agencies — need to walk a careful line in respecting all cultures but at the same time be aware of deeper cultural issues. He believes the Shafia case involved a tragic "clash of societal values."

"We get a situation like this, which is a relatively new phenomenon, but as police we have to acknowledge it could happen again. As police leaders, we have to open our minds to be more knowledgeable of different cultures. We have to embrace those differences but learn from these more extreme cases," he said.

"At some level, we had a clashing of cultures and values. Where we live, in a free and democratic society, those same freedoms within some families or cultures may be seen as dishonourable. To some individuals, human life has less value. It's not everyone. We have to be careful not to view cultures in a biased way."

Tanner said one of the tough lessons learned in the Shafia case is that when children speak out about abuse, it is essential to allow them "to speak to us free of any outside influence." Several times, the Shafia children recanted when their parents arrived on the scene.

"We have to be increasingly aware of those sorts of things. It can be a fine balance because we're dealing with young people. We also have to know that in extreme cases, [the] parent might be where the greatest threat comes from. The provider may be the actual threat."

Rona's sister, Diba Masoomi, was asked on the witness stand why, if she had information that Rona's life was in danger, she did not report it to authorities. Diba said she tried to strengthen her sister's resolve by reminding her of where she was now living. "I told Rona, don't be afraid. This is not Afghanistan. This is not Dubai. This is Canada and you don't have any problem. Don't be afraid," she told the court.

But Rona had ample reason to be afraid in Canada. She was afraid of deportation. The two people who controlled her life by withholding her documentation and controlling her dealings with the immigration lawyer were also physically and emotionally abusive to her.

Perhaps if Latif Hyderi had received the official message that family violence was not to be tolerated and, should, in fact be reported, his actions could have been pre-emptive and not delayed until testifying after it was too late for Zainab, Sahar, Geeti and Rona.

Kamateros said she cannot comment directly on the Shafia case. But she understands the pattern. "Should we blame the community or should we point the finger at ourselves?" she asked.

The legacy…

THE emotional damage has been deep and far-reaching. Three young men with close relationships to Zainab and Sahar lost their loves. An Afghan family and community remains divided in Montreal. Three Shafia children were left without their parents for more than three years and will have to bear a terrible legacy, their parents and eldest brother sitting in federal prisons.

Mohammad, Tooba, and Hamed have appealed their convictions.

Occasionally, a small bouquet of flowers will appear near the side of the lock at Kingston Mills where the black Nissan plunged into the waters of the Rideau Canal and four women lost their lives. They are gone but not forgotten. A women's shelter in Kingston is working to install a plaque at the lockstation to remember them. The Kingston branch of Canadians for Women in Afghanistan, which fundraises for education projects in that country, announced a special education grant created in the names of Rona, Zainab, Sahar, and Geeti.

Mary-Ann Devantro, the Shafias' neighbour on rue Bonnivet, says she walks a fine line with the surviving children. She wants to maintain contact with them — they call her or visit from time to time — but she is torn by the verdict. "It's not my place to say [their parents] did it. I'm here to support them," she said. "How would you feel if it was your mom and dad? I can't even believe the stuff I was hearing on TV."

When Diba Masoomi was in Canada to testify for her late sister Rona, Devantro met her on the street. It was unnerving. "I thought I was dreaming because she looked so much like her sister," she recalled. She keeps the earrings Rona gave her safely put away in remembrance.