Migrant Birds by Ahmed Zaoui

New Zealand was settled by Europeans during the worst of British industrial laissez-faire capitalism. Our founding document, the Treaty of Waitangi, was signed in 1840. The first wave of settlers arrived between 1830 and 1860. When they stepped off the ship and looked at the open countryside, the forests, the clean air and the rich produce being raised by those Europeans who were already here, it seemed like Paradise itself to them. In comparison with the squalor and misery the mostly working-class settlers had left behind in Britain, New Zealand seemed like "God's own country".

The moniker remains, shortened humorously to "Godzone". But it's not a term you see used a lot nowadays. In fact, it most often turns up in writings which seek to point out just how far is the rosy dream from the reality of modern New Zealand. Articles kinda like this one.

When Algerian refugee Ahmed Zaoui first set foot in Godzone, he "was expecting a kiss on my cheeks". Instead he was imprisoned for two years without charge or trial on suspicion of being a terrorist. The first ten months of his time in New Zealand were spent in solitary confinement in a maximum security prison. He is one of the victims of the War on Terror whose fate could have been avoided. Still no one knows why he was incarcerated. No one, that is, except the Security Intelligence Service. And they aren't telling.

In 2004 Ahmed wrote this book of poems to mark the second anniversary of his arrival in New Zealand and its prison system. Each poem was written in Arabic and later translated by a team of knowledgeable individuals. The original Arabic verses are included in the book along with the English. In the poems he comes across as an educated and intelligent man, with great faith, hope and resilience. He has a better knowledge of English literature than I do. He uses powerful Biblical and cultural metaphors, sometimes addressing the fundamentals of the human condition, sometimes merely seeking to console himself by addressing the "migrant birds" that enter his cell.

I was touched by five of the 24 poems in particular. Until Youssef comes onto the stage is about his youngest son, whom Ahmed has not seen since before he arrived in New Zealand in 2002. In a footnote, it describes the poignant scene of seven-year-old Youssef opening the front door to imagine (and converse with) his absent father there on the doorstep.

The power of faith and imagination is explored in several places, particularly How wonderful life is, save when it is not... and The secret of my resistance:

The deepest knowledge in life is faith, because in this you
will be free and unique.

Ahmed's loneliness and cultural isolation, even when his solitary confinement ended, are captured in What is the Algerian for Rugby? and Lies are the extension of politics, where he deeply questions his vocation as a politician.

So much pain, yet still so much hope. I cannot begin to comprehend the experience of spending over a decade in foreign prisons in exile from your homeland. Worse, however, is the constant realisation that this is happening here in New Zealand.

New Zealand is the Land of the Free, it's Godzone, it's a civilised nation - hell, I work summers in Parliament, right in the seat of democracy itself. Every afternoon on sitting days, I leave my work for an hour to watch democracy grabbing unwary Cabinet ministers by the throat and holding them accountable (an amusing charade better known as Parliamentary question time). Democracy is alive here.

So why is Amnesty International turning its attention to New Zealand? How can such a blatant abuse of human and civil rights happen here, in the real world, on the wrong side of the TV screen? Yes, I'm young and idealistic. I'm left wing. I still believe that universal love and understanding could solve all the world's problems. I'm the future of New Zealand, and right now, I hurt for what my country seems to have become.

Ahmed Zaoui was freed on bail in December 2004. He has been granted refugee status, yet he is still not a free man. He has not seen his family for many years. He must be enduring loneliness beyond all comprehension. Yet what does he do? The lovely man, he publishes his private couscous recipe for the benefit of his supporters. What is this guy doing in prison and accused, here, in Godzone?