When I told people back in South Africa that I was planning to emigrate to the U.S., there were many comments made — “You’ll be increasing the average IQ in both countries, then” was a popular one. But the most perceptive one was actually made by my ex-wife, who said:
“Well, Kim was born an American. He just happened to be in the wrong country at the time.”
Actually, that was very close to the truth. Before I was born, my parents had made plans to emigrate to Canada, and my dad had actually been granted a work permit. Then my mother discovered she was pregnant (with me), and she couldn’t bear to leave her family, so that was the end of it. (So I came thisclose to saying “eh” at the end of my sentences, and pronouncing boat as “boot”. Small mercies.)
Anyway, I ended up here, and while living with Longtime Friend Trevor in Austin in 1986, I was invited to a party of South African expats. I went, and it was a nightmare. Back in South Africa, we used to call Rhodesian immigrants “when-wees” because almost all their sentences began with the words “When we still lived in Bulawayo…” etc.
Well, the South African party in Austin was full of South African when-wees, all bitching and moaning about how much better they had it back in the old Racist Republic. And when I got sick of this shit, and asked of one particular whiner, “If it was so much better back there, why don’t you just fuck off home?”… let’s just say that the atmosphere became distinctly unpleasant after that little comment, and I didn’t stay long at the party. I never went to another one ever again, wherever I lived.
Look, I understand this situation as well as anyone. It’s a hell of a thing to change countries, to leave family and friends behind, and all the comforts of home as well. All the customs and mores are different — and I didn’t have the same language issues as someone from, say, Serbia even. The whole attitude to life is different in a new country, and it can be terribly lonely.
The natural instinct, then, is to gather with other people from the Old Country, so that you can commiserate with like souls, also lonely in this strange new land. I don’t agree with it myself, but I acknowledge that it’s understandable. (I made a conscious effort to fit into my adopted country. I failed miserably in terms of speech — changing my fake-British accent has been physiologically impossible — but in all other aspects, I have been largely successful except for a love of cricket and biltong, which are even more ingrained than my accent.)
What gets up my nose — and I cannot stress this enough — is when someone moves to a new country, and then sets about trying to change things to fit in with their former country’s ethos and their own background.
It would be like me moving here, and then starting a pro-apartheid movement to keep the races segregated, and trying to change the laws of the country accordingly.
And if that sounds ridiculous, then I invite you to consider efforts to create a parallel legal system of Islamic shari’a in Western countries like France, the U.K. and, yes, the United States. But because Islam is a religion and not a loathsome artificial system like apartheid, we are supposed to defer to this effort because of the freedom of religion guaranteed by the U.S. Constitution, or because of a long-time reputation for tolerance (in the case of Western European countries).
The problem is that despite being based upon a set of religious beliefs, shari’a is not just a behavioral discipline, but a socio-political one. Nowhere in Catholicism (at least, anymore) is it written that Catholics should (or even must) wage a holy war against non-Catholics without fear of reprisal at the hands of a Catholic court system.
Yet that is what shari’a not only implies, but demands.
And I’m not interested in hearing about “moderate” Muslims, either. (The old not-so-funny joke about Muslims is that radical Muslims want to murder non-Muslims, while moderate Muslims won’t murder non-Muslims, but won’t mind if radical Muslims do.)
I have no problem whatsoever with immigrants congregating into neighborhoods of like background or ethnicity. Like I said earlier, I understand that (even if I don’t agree with it). What I won’t stand for is when these ghetto-dwellers somehow think that their little enclaves are somehow immune from the laws of the parent country, and are free to impose their own (transplanted) laws and customs on everyone who lives there, or even just passes through.
Think I’m kidding? I invite young American (or British) women to walk through a predominantly-Muslim area wearing a tube top, no bra and a miniskirt, and see how they’re treated. What would get admiring glances or even wolf-whistles in their own community will get a far harsher response in, say, downtown Bradford in England or even parts of Dearborn in Michigan. The same clothing choice, by the way, would get disapproving looks and even a muttered comment in an Orthodox Jewish area in Chicago or New York, but it would be unlikely to result in screamed insults, assault or even worse, attempted rape, as it would in the Muslim areas. (And further: in Islamic countries, a woman claiming to have been raped is more likely to result in the arrest of the woman — for “temptation”.)
And this is my problem with immigrants. (I have mentioned Islamic adherents above because it is simply the most modern manifestation of this, but I see absolutely no difference between Muslims and the Communists who came over from Eastern- and Western Europe, who set about trying to spread their foul ideology into their host country’s body politic. We used to deny Communists entry to the U.S., but are unwilling to do so with Muslims because “religion”.)
It’s all very well to afford comfort and sanctuary to the “huddled masses, yearning to breathe free” (an inscription on a statue, by the way, and not official State policy). It is another thing altogether to allow the huddled masses into your country, only for said huddled masses to set about changing all the good things about your country into something not only alien, but repugnant.
And for those who take issue with the word “repugnant”, allow me to offer but two words in rebuttal: honor killings.
When it comes to immigration, I’ve always believed in the FIFO (fit in or fuck off) principle. I’ve lived by that precept ever since I arrived here, and I see no reason why anyone else should refuse to do so — even if by doing so, your “sacred religion” is offended. If your new country is all that offensive to you, fuck off home.
And by the way: I can say things like the above because of the freedom of speech afforded to me by the Constitution of my adopted country, in the shape of its First Amendment. If what I say is that offensive to you and you feel obliged to resort to other ways to demonstrate your disapproval, allow me to remind you of the existence of its Second Amendment. I may have left behind a lot of Africa, but a response of violence to counter violence was not one of them.
...yeah [sigh], I miss ’em too.
…considering he’s already had two goes at cultivating your little garden of delight, I seriously doubt he’s missing anything.
