The other shrewd insight is one I was skeptical of back when the trilogy started, in Prayers for the Assassin: this Islamic Republic is the fruit not of Muslim fertility but of conversion. As the new nation’s bestselling history book explains: “Even the election in 2008 of a multiracial president named after the grandson of the Prophet (Peace Be Upon Him) could not prevent a cruel, godless capitalism from sending jobs overseas, where labor costs were cheaper, leaving millions at home unemployed, and embittered . . . Children and adults could draw no moral sustenance from a permissive culture that celebrated immorality and materialism.”
Or as someone muses more philosophically: “It’s the modern, the man without faith or future, who’s the easiest to turn . . . Freedom is a terrible burden, much too heavy for the weak man to bear.” Recently, a British police bigwig told me that 100,000 people converted to Islam last year. The figure didn’t seem possible: Jews have been in Britain for centuries and their numbers are down below 200,000. Never mind immigration or high birth rates, Islam surely can’t be converting in the space of a single year a number equivalent to half the entire Jewish population.
But it will, one day, soon. Let’s say you work in an office in Brussels, Amsterdam, or some other city on the brink of majority Muslim status: so management installs a prayer room, and a few co-workers head off at the designated time, while the rest of you get on with what passes for work in the EU. A couple of years go by, and now a few more folks scoot off to the prayer room. And meanwhile everybody young and hip is Muslim. As Ferrigno recounts: “Shania X, the most popular country music recording star in the world, made her declaration of faith at the Grand Ole Opry. A week later, three major movie stars declared their submission . . . These high-profile conversions created a cascade effect.”
I can see that happening—not in America, perhaps, but in Britain: a former Spice Girl, three Premier League footballers, and, if not a cascade, at least trickle-down Islamics. Why not fit in? Go along to get along . . .
Finally, a point of personal privilege, as the parliamentarians say. Reviewing Heart of the Assassin in FrontPage Magazine, David Forsmark noted:
“Here is a clue as to just how great Ferrigno’s Assassin trilogy is: giving a rave review to the first book was part of the indictment against columnist Mark Steyn when he was hauled before Canada’s so-called Human Rights Commission. Recommendations don’t come any higher than that.”
Indeed. Any self-respecting author would be proud to have “As Non-Recommended By The Canadian Human Rights Commission” emblazoned across his cover. What’s sadder is that Mr. Forsmark is correct: my review of Prayers for the Assassin was Exhibit No. 3 in the Canadian Islamic Congress’s indictment of Maclean’s systemic “Islamophobia.” The plaintiffs painstakingly listed every plot twist (“1) America will be an Islamic Republic by 2040 . . . 2) There will be a break for prayers during the Super Bowl,” etc.) without betraying any understanding that Robert Ferrigno’s book is a work of fiction.
Invited to prosecute a complaint resting on the proposition that discussing the plot points of a novel constitutes a “hate crime,” any justice system worth the name would have laughed it out of court. So, needless to say, the Canadian, British Columbia and Ontario “human rights” regimes took it seriously. Which is one of the more obvious reasons why any freeborn citizen should reject their jurisdiction: these self-aggrandizing statist hacks are simply too bone-crushingly stupid to have any say over your lives.
There are enough Muslim fans of Mr. Ferrigno for his novels to have been translated into Turkish and Arabic. But here’s how nutty Canadian “human rights” are: a publisher in Egypt is free to publish the “Islamophobic” Ferrigno. But a publisher in Canada will be dragged into court in Vancouver merely for running a favourable review.
You begin to see why the Old One fancies his chances.
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