My mother Parvin remembers her years of political activism as a student in Iran-first against the despotic rule of the Shah and, after the revolution of 1979, against Ayatollah Khomeini’s theocratic regime. When asked about her political experiences, she nostalgically recounts memories of the hours spent with other young activists, organizing meetings, compiling and handing out leaflets, and attending demonstrations, all after having stayed up until dawn to come up with witty and venomous chants against the autocratic regime of the day.
But her romanticized illustration of the young activist lifestyle is quickly stained when, with a shaky voice, she describes the actions of the Hezbollai, an ultra-religious, state-sponsored vigilante group (now called the Basiji) whose purpose was to disrupt meetings and intimidate dissenting students. Best described as a group of thugs, these individuals would come armed with wooden and metal bats, glass, chains, knives, acid and other hardware, often using these weapons against the young activists.
I was reminded of my mother’s experiences on Wednesday, Nov. 22 of this year, when the Coalition Against Israeli Apartheid (an association of individuals and organizations who believe that Israel is an apartheid state similar to that of the South African apartheid, and work to end Canadian involvement in strengthening the Israeli state) held a new member’s meeting at Sidney Smith.
Having traveled to Israel and the Occupied Territories during the summer and discussed the Mideast conflict extensively with both my Arab and Jewish friends, I decided to attend the meeting. At 7:20 p.m, ten minutes before the meeting was to start, I, along with other CAIA members and interested parties, was joined by a group of eight individuals, most of whom identified themselves as members of Betar Tagar.
According to its website, Betar Tagar is a Zionist student group “founded on the ideals of Jewish unity and patriotism, both of which are inextricably linked to Canadian notions of inclusiveness and tolerance.”
Unfortunately, the spectacle that was to occur was anything but tolerant. Betar Tagar members did not bring weapons to disrupt the meeting and intimidate the students, like the groups my mother was faced with in Iran had done. They did not have to. They began by correctly arguing for their right to attend what had been advertised as a meeting for all interested parties wishing to become members of CAIA.
Yet once a few people got up and walked away from the assertive eight, some of the Betar Tagar members began aggressively following individual students around, repeatedly asking, “Where is this meeting? I feel like going to a meeting.”
Less than ten minutes after having entered the building, one of the Betar Tagar members claimed that a CAIA member had assaulted him, and quickly called campus police. I did not witness the actual affair and cannot give an account of the events, but I noticed how the members of Betar Tagar provoked an increasingly volatile crowd of individuals by mocking, shouting, and ridiculing those who expressed outrage and shock at the presence of the police. Further, I was stunned at the speed with which officers entered the building and immediately proceeded to reprimand the accused. Images from an online video link sent to me two days before, depicting an Iranian-American student at UCLA being repeatedly tazered and physically assaulted by university police, surfaced in my mind, along with the frightening realization that I really did not know U of T’s policy regarding the use of force.
What I found most revolting was the amusement expressed by members of Betar Tagar watching the distressed reactions of the students-one was even filming the spectacle while mocking the accused and laughing uncontrollably.
I am one of the individuals who were bombarded with Betar Tagar’s brand of hostile questioning and, while I do not know the result of the confrontation with campus police, I am extremely distraught and infuriated by the entire event, especially since I know from my classes many of the members of Betar Tagar who participated in this confrontation.
My Iranian nationality has little, if any, influence on my reaction to their repulsive behavior. I have attended Shabbat dinners and Hillel speaker series, and I am conducting a research project with a professor who teaches at Tel Aviv University. I am certain that had they approached the members of the group in a more civil and less belligerent manner, the Betar Tagar representatives would not have received the exasperated response from those of us sitting in the Sid Smith lobby, waiting for the meeting to commence.
The university honors the right to participate and requires all meetings be made public unless specified as members-only. However this policy should not, and does not, grant other recognized campus organizations the right or opportunity to disrupt meetings by interrogating and intimidating interested parties. The rights to organize, assemble and participate are intrinsic to student life, and the university administration must devise a way to discriminate between those with a sincere interest in activism, and the thugs whose intention it is to intimidate their peers and disrupt planned events. Failure to do so only jeopardizes these essential rights.
My mother was forced to endure such restrictions to organizing because of Iran’s repressive theocratic government. I am embarrassed for the University of Toronto that I witnessed such a spectacle on its property and by one if its recognized groups, a scene so grotesque that it reminded me of my mother’s ordeal.
Nonetheless, like my mother, I refuse to be intimidated and choose instead to challenge those vigilantes who abuse their right to participate and, in turn, make a mockery of the democratic principles upon which this university is based.
