How the Muslim community gave Kiwis hope after Christchurch attacks

Today we mark one year since the unprecedented terror attack against peaceful Muslims worshipping at Al-Noor-and Linwood mosques in Christchurch.

One year on from what is perhaps the darkest hour in my country’s modern history, we still find ourselves without words to express the mix of horror, outrage and sadness we feel following an act of such enormous brutality.

As I struggled with my own deep, yet infinitely inadequate, sadness, in the days and weeks following the attack, hundreds of my Muslim friends and contacts, including several ministers and senior officials, reached out to offer support and condolences. One phrase they uttered in common gave me strength and hope — As-salaam Alaikum. Peace be upon you.

These simple but profound words were to be repeated over and over again in the aftermath of the attack. They would be repeated by victims from their hospital beds. By community members who witnessed the loss of their friends and loved ones. Words spoken by Superintendent Naila Hassan, one of our highest-ranking police officers. Simple words, spoken by the bereaved and grieving.

They were words spoken by our Muslim community who, in the face of hate and violence, had every right to express anger and distrust. Instead, they opened the doors of their mosques, community centers and homes to allow us to grieve beside them. New Zealand learned about the true meaning of Islam in those days.

I do not use the terrorist’s name. Nor will my prime minister or any public official. In New Zealand, we remember and honor the victims and survivors of the Christchurch atrocity. And it is the dignity, quiet strength and love that our Muslim community demonstrated that shows us we are right in doing so. It is love, care for others and common humanity, not hatred, that will abide.

And so we say to those who have lost the most, while we may not have always had the words, know that we stood with you. We reverted to actions. We left flowers, donned a hijab, visited mosques, performed haka, sung songs or simply embraced the victims or held our Muslim community closer. But even when we had no words, we still heard yours, and they left us humbled and united.

Over the past year we have heard the stories of those affected by the terror attack. Stories of bravery. Stories of those who were born in New Zealand, who chose to make New Zealand their home, and who visited us for a time.

These stories now form part of our collective memories. They will remain with us forever. They are us.

It is often said that in difficult times, you learn who your true friends are. In the aftermath of the attack, we were overwhelmed and humbled by the support and solidarity from across the world, the region and, poignantly, from Saudi Arabia — the home of Islam.

I had the privilege of welcoming over 200 members of New Zealand’s Muslim community to the Kingdom last year, when the families of the victims came to Makkah to perform Hajj as guests of the Custodian of the Two Holy Mosques. They spoke of how much this extraordinary gesture meant for their journey of recovery — physically, emotionally and spiritually.

In addition to King Salman’s generous invitation to the victims, we welcomed the messages of condolence he and Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman sent to New Zealand. Minister of State for Foreign Affairs Adel Al-Jubeir represented the Kingdom at the National Memorial Service in Christchurch, alongside representatives of the Organization of Islamic Co-operation and the Muslim World League. Prince Alwaleed bin Talal donated over $1 million to families of the victims.

Allow me to once again put on record our sincere gratitude and appreciation for this support and your friendship. And thank you also to the countless ordinary Saudis who wrote to the embassy, messaged me on Twitter, or just picked up the phone and talked to us.

One year later, we reiterate our determination to fight the cancer of extremism. The world risks being stuck in a vicious cycle, with extremism breeding extremism. We saw this demonstrated only a month after the Christchurch atrocity, when 259 innocent victims were killed in the Sri Lankan Easter bombings. Sadly this cycle continues with depressing regularity as we saw as recently as last month in the xenophobic attack carried out in Hanau, Germany. As with Christchurch, the perpetrators were terrorists, committed to the path of hate and violence, and bent on sowing discord between faiths and peoples. We will not let them win.

Our initial response to the attack focused on supporting victims, families and the community. The government’s response has also included reform of New Zealand’s gun laws and acceleration of a review of New Zealand’s counter-terror legislation.

Today, we remember those who have left us. Those who have suffered, and those who have lost

James Munro

A royal commission has also been established to find out what, if any, measures could have been taken by government agencies to prevent this attack and any future attacks.

Paths to extremism can start online in hidden and not-so-hidden extremist chatrooms among the susceptible, marginalized and angry. Individuals who have lost perspective are, in turn, further radicalized on electronic platforms that make them feel part of a movement — albeit a misguided and deeply repugnant one.

In New Zealand, we have reinforced our work to combat terrorism and violent extremism, where it exists online and in dark corners of our communities.

On May 15, 2019, New Zealand Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern and French President Emmanuel Macron brought together heads of state and government and leaders from the tech sector to adopt the Christchurch Call to Action to eliminate terrorist and violent extremist content online.

We have seen that love is stronger than hate. That common humanity binds us and demands that we combat hatred and extremism. We will see it on March 15 as New Zealand marks the first anniversary of the attack that changed us forever.

Today, we remember those who have left us. Those who have suffered, and those who have lost. We will remember the heroes and first responders who gave so much of themselves to save others. We will remember the tears of our nation, the support of our friends and we will acknowledge the new resolve we have formed to fight hatred.

In the dark days after the attack, I often turned to a proverb in our first language, Te Reo Maori, as I struggled to deal with the awesome sadness and tragedy of the massacre: “Kia kaha, kia maia, kia manawanui.” Be strong, be brave, be steadfast.

One year later, I say again to everyone who was affected by this senseless act of hatred: Kia kaha. Be strong.

And I say to you all: As-salaam Alaikum.