Quebec, religion and Islamophobic double standards

Images recently shared on social media of members of Montreal’s Muslim community gathered in prayer in a public park in the Ahuntsic-Cartierville borough to mark the end of Ramadan and the start of Eid quickly brought out the usual complaints from the usual suspects. Even though the group had requested and obtained permission from the borough council for the collective prayer, many expressed discomfort with the images.

In a Journal de Montréal column, Joseph Facal argued that public religious ceremonies should be banned, insisting that “a collective prayer by hundreds of people at the same time transforms the park into a sacred space reserved only for the faithful of this religion.” It’s a questionable argument at best, since absolutely no one was forbidden from accessing the park at any time while the group was praying. A nearby frisbee game or a birthday party in a park doesn’t prevent me from also enjoying it, so why should some folks praying stop me? Parks are, by design, multipurpose public spaces. I think some people’s apprehension says more about their own misgivings and suspicion of certain religions than it does that particular group’s intent to take over the park.

I’m not arguing for public spaces like parks to become routine places of worship. They shouldn’t. What I’m pointing out are the double standards and the lack of consistency often displayed when it comes to Quebec secularism. What many won’t come out and just say is that the image of a bunch of folks praying scares them, as they see it as the first step in taking over that space, and other spaces like them — metaphorically and physically.

Displays of faith are not provocation

As an atheist who adamantly believes in secularism and the separation of state and religion, I tire of disingenuous arguments about protecting our public spaces from religion. Primarily because these arguments, curiously enough, only seem to materialize after Muslim gatherings.

In my book We, the Others, I point to a similar “controversy” that took place in 2017, when a video of Muslim community members praying outdoors at Parc Safari — a popular Quebec zoo and amusement park — made the rounds, “prompting outrage by onlookers who suspected, despite claims it was just an innocuous display of faith, that it was meant to be a deliberate and malicious provocation.”

The truth is that many religious ceremonies or religious activities routinely take place in Quebec’s public spaces, without anyone claiming that they compromise Quebec secularism. My local church bells loudly ring every Sunday. Italian, Portuguese and Spanish communities have religious processions on certain annual feast days, and so do many French Catholics, which hold Way of the Cross processions annually on Good Friday. Every year, during Greek Easter, members of Montreal’s Greek community take part in a religious procession called the Epitafio, which culminates in midnight mass on Saturday (loud speakers letting the neighbourhood know — at an ungodly hour — that “Christ has Risen”) and someone always setting off firecrackers afterwards. While I’m not religious, Greek Easter is a religious tradition and holiday I feel strongly about because it’s a huge part of my Greek identity. Firecrackers set off at midnight in sleepy neighbourhoods is not exactly what I’d call keeping our faith private and to ourselves. No one ever seems to care.

The very same year that the Parc Safari incident happened, Montreal was celebrating its 375th anniversary. The event was ostentatiously marked with the symbolic sounding of St. Joseph’s Oratory’s first bell, followed by the simultaneous chiming of church bells across Montreal for 10 entire minutes. A public mass was also held at the Oratory, where priests, deacons, members of religious communities and special guests were all in attendance.

Hell, there’s a guy that’s been standing at the corner of Ste-Catherine and McGill, holding a “Jesus Christ Eternel” sign for years now, and absolutely no one has ever thought to remove him. I routinely get politely solicited by Jehovah’s Witnesses asking me if I want to attend their church and I often pass by religious groups distributing information pamphlets in Montreal metros. Again, no one’s writing alarmist columns about these very purposeful proselytizing efforts.

Secularism isn’t anti-religion

The only reason we collectively don’t treat any of those particular displays of religious faith as compromising secularism is because — even if we’re atheist — I suspect that most of us fundamentally see both the Christian religion and those who practise it as largely benign and non-threatening. It’s a huge part of the province’s patrimoine. The adhān, the Islamic call to prayer emanating from mosques, is identical to a church bell ringing to invite the faithful to attend service. Yet some folks treat it as an Isis invasion, simply because it’s foreign and the sound is often associated with Hollywood movies where terrorists are busy blowing up something. I get that some folks may not be used to other religions and their traditions and may need some time to familiarize themselves with them. But if people are just peacefully praying, minding their own business, please consider that your over-the-top reaction may just be run-of-the-mill xenophobia and, yes, even Islamophobia.

It bears repeating that secularism is merely the separation of church and state. It’s meant to ensure the government in power does not impose a religion on us and that no one religion is favoured to the detriment of all others. Secularism isn’t anti-religion. It isn’t the right not to be exposed to religion publicly or the right not to live with people around you who may have a different relationship with faith than you do.

Allowing people their fundamental freedom of religion and occasionally even public displays of their faith doesn’t in any way translate to Quebec suddenly transforming into a theocracy where religious fundamentalism rules. Secularism is very clearly here to stay. And, despite popular misconceptions, not just in Quebec. “No religion” is the second-most-common answer when Canadians are asked about their religious affiliation.

Secularism, however, doesn’t mean treating people who wear visible religious symbols or who consider their religion a big part of their identity as pariahs or as a danger to our secular society. In an increasingly multicultural and multi-faith world, even a state that promotes no religion has an obligation to ensure that its citizens don’t perpetuate religious prejudice and don’t discriminate against those who practise their faith. If you’re going to start demanding that religion be banned from the public space, you better make sure you demand that of all religions. Otherwise, your double standards and bias are showing. ■

This article was originally published in July 2024 issue of Cult MTL.

Read more weekly editorial columns by Toula Drimonis.