‘The nation is behind us’: New Zealand shares pain of Christchurch Muslims | World news
It began to drizzle as Hati Mohemmed Daoud Nabi was laid to rest in the freshly dug earth of Memorial park cemetery in Christchurch.
The 71-year-old was the fifth to be buried on Thursday. Six days earlier, he was the first to die when he held open the door of Masjid Al Noor on Deans Avenue in Christchurch and greeted a stranger with: “Hello, brother.”
That stranger is now in custody, pending charges for 50 counts of murder for attacks on Masjid Al Noor and a second mosque on Linwood Avenue. It is the worst terrorist attack in the country’s history. The youngest victim was just three years old. As of Thursday, 28 of the 42 injured remained in hospital.
The attack was motivated by hatred of Muslims, but its result was an outpouring of love and support in a heartbroken country. Thousands of non-Muslims have since attended a mosque for the first time; school students performed a haka for the fallen; non-Muslim women (including prime minister, Jacinda Ardern) donned headscarves; and across the nation, New Zealanders pledged to form a human chain around mosques to protect those who prayed.
It also promoted action. An hour after Daoud was buried, prime minister Jacinda Ardern banned the sale of military-style assault rifles, semi-automatic rifles and shotguns with a detachable magazine, and high-capacity magazines — the primary weapons that police allege were used in the attack.
On Thursday evening more than 18,000 people attended a candlelit vigil for the victims in Dunedin, the second-biggest city on New Zealand’s South Island after Christchurch.
The 28-year-old Australian man suspected of the attacks lived in Dunedin, 360km south. He has been named in court, but Ardern has promised never to speak his name.
On Friday, a week after the massacre, the Muslim call to prayer was broadcast on national TV and radio in New Zealand followed by a two-minute silence. Outside Masjid Al Noor, a large crowd gathered to observe the midday prayers. Later, 26 of the remaining victims were laid to rest in a mass burial.
Luul Ibrahim, whose little brother Mucad, 3, was among those buried, said she lived in Australia and had not had the chance to meet her brother, adding “maybe one day I will meet him in heaven”.
From a podium about 200 metres from the mosque, Imam Gamal Fouda said New Zealand has proved itself “unbreakable” and called for action to stamp out Islamophobia and hate speech.
“Last Friday I stood in this mosque and saw hatred and rage in the eyes of the terrorist,” he said. “Today from the same place I look out and I see the love and compassion in the eyes of thousands of New Zealanders and human beings from around the globe.”
Ardern kept her speech brief, reciting an Islamic proverb then saying: “New Zealand mourns with you, we are one.”
At the end of the service, the crowd were offered a simple message in Te Reo Maori: “Aroha, aroha, aroha.” Love, love, love.
At kitchen tables in Christchurch, quiet conversations are happening between New Zealanders about whether they might have laughed off racism and hate speech when they should have taken the threat of white nationalism seriously. In Australia those same conversations have become mired in partisan political debate.
Everyone in Christchurch lives in readiness for the next big earthquake, but few – including authorities – were prepared for this man-made disaster.
‘Why didn’t the angry man just ask why they pray?’
Until 15 March, the idea of a rightwing terror attack in New Zealand was considered so unlikely by everyone except those directly exposed to anti-Muslim sentiment that even security agencies missed the warning signs.
“I would hope to think one nasty bastard is not going to affect our country and how we think about ourselves,” Christchurch woman Rachel McCormick says. She is at the public memorial outside the botanic gardens on Rolleston Avenue with two of her children, delivering flowers and a message written by her five-year-old son.
The message reads: “Why didn’t the angry man just ask why they pray?”
McCormick says the attack sparked “so many conversations about Kiwi racism”, about pride in Ardern’s compassionate performance as leader, and about gun control, although the latter is just an instant declaration of “totally, 100% support”.
Christchurch City Council’s deputy mayor, Andrew Turner, says his home is still “a city in shock” but there are “some questions that needed to be answered” about racism and intolerance in New Zealand.
“I would like to think that any legacy of this as far as possible can be positive,” Turner says. “That it leads to a greater understanding of different religions, different communities, a greater level of cultural awareness, and the absolute need to be embracing the diversity in our wider community and also the need to be a voice and a place of welcome to recent immigrants and refugees.”
According to the Mental Health Foundation’s Ciaran Fox, it also shows the need to ensure that migrant communities and recent refugees are brought into the community networks that sprang up in response to the earthquake. Fox attributes the city’s resilience to those networks, which mean that when disaster strikes Christchurch its 374,000 residents “know how to be a community”.
That shows up in the flowers. The Rolleston Avenue memorial has been steadily growing since the afternoon of the attack to cover more than 100 metres of fenceline. It is filled with messages of hope and condolence including the ubiquitous Te Reo affirmation “Kia kaha”, or stay strong. “Kia kaha” is written on a literal bundle of olive branches; in chalk on the pavement; on paper chains made by primary school students; across replicas of the New Zealand flag.
Every few metres a photo of one of the victims sits between the mounds of floral tributes and teddy bears. At one point there is a collection of futsal balls and footballs, a tribute to Atta Elayyan, 33, who was the goalkeeper of the national men’s futsal team, as well as Tariq Omar, 24, and Sayyad Milne, 14, who played for Maitland football club.
A letter left for Omar reads: “When you coach me I feel welcome on the team. I only talked to you last Tuesday and it turns out that was the last time.”
Mohammad Ishaq and daughter Shaheen, 15, came to Christchurch from Auckland on Saturday after learning a cousin had been killed in the attack. They buried him on Wednesday.
“He was just here for a week and last Saturday he was supposed to come to Auckland for a visit but it didn’t happen,” Ishaq says.
He thanks the broader community for its support, saying: “The whole nation is behind us, the whole country is behind us, that’s the thing about Kiwis.”
Shaheen says the level of community support in the wake of the attack gives her hope.
“People have been seeing Muslims in a different way now and that’s something that we actually appreciate. Now we know that we actually can be a part of this community,” she says.