Like you, I suspect, I have been terribly worried these last few weeks over the plight of 15-year-old Amira Abase. Amira fled the country on 17 February in order to take up an exciting and challenging position as an in-house whore for the vibrant and decapitating warriors of the Islamic State somewhere in Syria, probably Raqqa. She travelled with two like-minded school friends from the local caliphate of Bethnal Green and not much has been heard of her since. We wring our hands in anguish at the fate which might have befallen this girl. It is of course commendable that she, along with so many other fervent young British Muslim women, should wish to become a jihadi bride. What kind of life would she be forced to endure in the Islamophobic hell of the United Kingdom? As Russell Brand has sagely pointed out, these kids feel they have no future here, they are without hope, innit.
But the real worry is that Amira may have taken up with a jihadi who may be less than liberal in his views about, say, women’s equality and the very real struggles endured by lesbian, bisexual, gay and transgendered folk. Poisonous views quite counter to those which we have expensively inculcated in her. I can imagine Amira’s husband coming home one evening after a long day of decapitating and standing before her, scimitar in one hand, head of a Christian in the other, and expressing perhaps slight but meaningful worries over the rectitude of gay adoptions and, more so, IVF treatment for homosexual married couples. ‘I’m just not convinced, love,’ I hear him saying, looking a little forlorn. And Amira replying: ‘You’re dripping infidel blood on the carpet, Tariq.’
‘But we haven’t got a carpet. It’s just compacted mud and dust.’
‘Um. Yes, you’re right. I want to go home to Bethnal Green now, please.’
This is the problem — that Amira may not have thought things through.
We know why she went. Because, as Russell told us, of the lack of hope and the Islamophobia. And also, according to the BBC and the Guardian and indeed her own father, Hussen Abase, because the more usually fascistic police were less than diligent in trying to stop her getting to Gatwick airport. It is undoubtedly the job of the police to stop Muslims going anywhere near Gatwick airport — not because they might blow up planes or anything like that, you total ’phobe, but because we will all be greatly diminished by their departure from our country. It is the job of the police to enjoin them to stay here, inshallah.
Or it may be that — again according to the liberals — she was ‘groomed’ online by the deranged Islamists. Grooming, incidentally, was once something that chimps did to one another, or what my colleague Melissa Kite might do to a horse. But it has been appropriated by the left and now means nothing at all, except to absolve the groomee of even the slenderest vestiges of culpability. To be groomed is to be a victim, and that’s an end to the discussion.
Or it could be — as again, the left has it — that the intrusive behaviour of our security services somehow radicalised Amira and made her want to pack her bags for Syria immediately. Or that the glamour and chutzpah of the Islamic State maniacs had much the same effect upon Amira and her friends, that, say, Justin Bieber has on other girls of her age. This hilarious thesis is quite au courant — largely because, like all of those other theses, it removes any notion of blame from Amira and from her family and from the mosques and from the local Muslim community. They are never to blame. It is always someone else’s fault — the filth, the spooks, the vicious anti-Islam mindset of the British people, the oh-so pernicious influence of the internet, glamour, grooming and so on. That’s what did it, that’s what made Amira head for Gatwick. All that stuff.
Amira’s dad, Hussen, cleaved to the view that the police were to blame. Why didn’t they warn him? Certainly his lovely daughter was never exposed by the family to the horrors of Islamic extremism, perish the thought, he told the press. Any intimation of that and he’d have come down hard on her, he opined — just before the video was released. The footage of Hussen Abase on a march in London organised by the proscribed terrorist organisation Al-Muhajiroun, holding a burning American flag and screaming ‘Allahu Akbar!’, his face a rictus of hatred, standing near Michael Adebowale, who was one of the murderers of British fusilier Lee Rigby, and just behind the extremist nutjob Anjem Choudary.
And Hussen was kind enough to take Amira to two marches, much as any dad would do with his kids on a quiet Saturday, either demand the death of the cockroach infidels or visit Ikea — what’s it to be, children?
Hussen is an Ethiopian and of course — of course — unemployed. He came to this country, he said, for democracy and freedom. And also, presumably, so that he and his appalling family can be heavily subsidised by the taxpayer while they scream for the destruction of the civilisation which has treated them with such ludicrous, arguably insane generosity. I came here for the right to demand your utter and complete destruction while being extravagantly remunerated for so doing. Any problem in that?
Hussen Abase is just the one we know about: I wonder how many others there are who were similarly disposed, the dads or the mums or the imams or the state school teachers. We know about Hussen because some sharp-eyed journo spotted his face in the crowd. What is he doing here? Wouldn’t he be happier in Raqqa, with his daughter? Amira is the victim of extremism, Hussen later told the press. Yes indeed — your own.
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