Assalamu alaikum,
Abu Hanifa called fiqh, "Knowing oneself: what is for it and what is against it."
Understanding the world we live in is fiqh...
Professor Muzaffar Iqbal's experience in the " New USA"
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FYI: To those who are ready to do anything to travel to or live in 'civilised' USA ! This is what happened to Professor Muzaffar Iqbal at the USA border. He is a Canadian citizen, a University Professor and a and writer, born in Pakistan.
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===== Original Message from "Muzaffar Iqbal" =====
I arrived at Toronto airport at 1:50 pm (December 12, 2002) after a four hour flight from Edmonton. I had one hour to clear US customs and immigration before boarding my flight for Washington DC. I had been invited by the Georgetown University's center for Christian-Muslim understanding for the meeting of the Advisory Committee for planning a major conference scheduled for next year, "Science in the Islamic World."
At the immigration counter, I handed my Canadian passport to one Kulczyk, who scans it and stares at his computer screen. He asks the usual questions: where are you going, why, for how long. I explain.
Then he looks at his computer screen again and after a few seconds, he turns off the screen, picks up his stamp and walks to a counter behind all other counters; this one says: Immigration Supervisor. But on his way, he meets another officer and says something to him. "For sure," the other officer says, "for that you have to second him."
Mr. Kulczyk talks to his supervisor and comes back to me. "Come with me, sir," he says. I follow him to another office. There are 10 other people sitting there, including a very old woman on a wheel chair. They all look upset and exasperated.
I sit quietly and wait. Time passes. Five immigration officers continuously walk in and out of their offices which are made by erecting walls in the hall where we are all sitting. People are taken in, they are interviewed and some come out in tears, others are given some papers and still others are being fingerprinted and photographed. Everything is happening in slow motion. No one is in a rush.
2:45: My flight is at 3:00. Will I make it?
"Asalamo Alaikum," the person sitting next to me says quietly. We talk. He is an Afghan who has lived in the United States for more than a decade. He came to Canada two ago to visit his cousin. Now he cannot go back. "I am US citizen, but they say they cannot find my citizenship records in their computers. They have called my wife, my employer, everyone, but still, I am sitting here for the last four hours."
The old woman on the wheel chair is also sitting there since morning. She only speaks Persian. She does not understand why she is being held. No one explains.
New passengers arrive. Each one in fury. But after a while, they resign to their situation and sit. Some talk to each other. There is one Anglophone, all others are from somewhere outside North America. Five passengers who were brought to the room after me, were processed while I was sitting there.
3:50: I go to the Supervisor, an Afro-American. "I have already missed my flight. I understand your need for security, but you have no right to disrupt people's lives. Can you tell me what is going on. Is there an order? Why are others being processed and I am held."
"Sir, we are doing our best. Some cases are more complicated."
"I understand, but if I could make the 4:50 flight, I would appreciate it."
"No, I am a Canadian citizen, you have my passport in front of you."
"I mean you were born in Pakistan."
"Yes."
"When were you in Pakistan last time?"
"I will see, just have a seat."
I go back to my seat.
Ten minutes later, the supervisor passes by. I get up. "O, just a minute," he says, as if he has just recalled something. He goes to a room and returns. "Someone will be with you shortly."
When I am called, I go to one of the side rooms with an officer.
"So, you are a Pakistani citizen," he says.
"2000."
"Where else have you been?"
"Since when?"