The proposed Bendigo mosque came into the media spotlight in July last year after fierce protest from the locals reached peak level. But after a year of remaining relatively silent on the topic, what were the effects on the alienated local Muslim population?
Storified by Julia Hoffner ·
Fri, Aug 12 2016 01:36:24
In the age of disposable news, it is easy to be overwhelmed by the amount of horrific images and stories we are fed by the media each day through our televisions, print media and the world wide web. So it is to be expected that majority of the Australian population are no longer discussing or thinking about the proposed Bendigo mosque. Applied for in 2013, approved by council in 2014 and protested about since, it is nearing the one-year anniversary of the last large scale anti-Muslim rally in the remote, rural town. But this begs the question –what progress has been made? And what effect has it left on the local Muslim community?
Jawad Khan is twenty-one years old. He is also a practicing Muslim, residing currently in Bendigo. Immigrating from Pakistan with his family when he was only three years old, he naturally considers Australia home. In the midst of undertaking fourth year Dentistry, he lives in a modest, brick abode in close proximity to LaTrobe University; where the current prayer centre for Muslims is a stripped-bare classroom generously provided by the University.
In the heat of the protests last year, Jawad became involved with the Bendigo Islamic Association, and believes his fellow Muslim’s uncontroversial natures led them to remain silent in response to the uproar. And there certainly was uproar. On the 29th of August, the first of a rally led by the United Patriots Front stormed the city centre of Bendigo, garnering attention nationwide leading to the mosque developments becoming a hot topic of debate. Following in this vein, another mob of incensed protesters took to the streets on October 12th, a mere month and a half later. This time however, the number had increased to over 1,000 protesters, many hailing from as far afield as Sydney, Queensland and Adelaide. Four people were arrested, a mock beheading was staged, and Bendigo’s Muslim community of over three hundred, were left feeling more alienated than ever before.
Since then, protests of a large scale have settled, but that doesn’t mean the war on mosques is over. Only in December last year was an appeal taken to the high court by two local women in a last ditch attempt to cease the impending construction. It was denied. Jawad remembers feeling an overwhelming sense of isolation in the midst of the the protest,and graphic depictions of the barbaric practices of ISIS splayed across the media only attributed to this. The radical Muslim extremist group, Jawad argues, is not a true reflection of his religion. A belief that a mosque would promote an exclusive Muslim community, he says, is the same as thinking a church ‘would segregate the Christian community from the Australian community’.
Construction of the $3 million infrastructure will take place over the next two years, and Jawad has no plans to leave the community he has grown accustomed to. He says that the Muslim population in the small town is bound to grow during this time, ‘regardless of whether a mosque is built or not’. When the mosque is ready for use, he will not hesitate to utilise it, although he knows it’s a rough road ahead. ‘It was never going to be an easy process, and throughout the past two years the local Muslim community has really shown its resilience, unification and non-confrontational nature. We just want a place where we can come together and feel connected.’
It's a crisp winters day in Bendigo and the sun casts its weak heat liberally on passersby in the small, bustling city centre. Like in most inland, rural cities, most of the people I pass fit a certain criteria. White, middle-aged and casually dressed. Also similar to other small towns, the people are friendlier; they chat in small groups, smile at one another in passing, and stop to acknowledge their neighbours and acquaintances in the street. On my self-directed tour, I find myself walking past Bendigo's very own Chinatown. A museum named The Golden Dragon seems to be the main attraction in this area, with groups of tourists filing out of its doors incessantly. I read that the museum was opened in 1981 to 'preserve and protect the history of the Chinese in Bendigo', which boomed during the Gold Rush in the late nineteenth century. Here, there is a clear appreciation of multiculturalism and integration. If only this same cultural acceptance and celebration extended to all those living in Bendigo.
The problem in many small, rural towns, Jawad believes, is the fact that locals lack one on one communication with Muslims residing in their town and this leaves them to form a warped generalisation of the religion dictated by what they see on their television. ‘If we could somehow show them that we are predominantly gentle people, with many of the same good values, I believe they might become less scared, less angry.’
Although Jawad has not felt personally targeted since the mosque was approved, he has felt he can be less open about his beliefs and as a result does not always feel like he is truly accepted in his community. I asked him if he would be comfortable visiting the new mosque if a mob of angry protesters gathered outside to jeer and hiss racial slurs at him and others who entered. ‘If that’s a consequence of having a space to be able to peacefully practice my religion then so be it. I have the freedom to express my beliefs, and as do they’.
Only time will tell what future protestations await, but there's one thing that is definite: Jawad Khan will not be listening.