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After intense screenings and lengthy delays, some naturalized Canadians vow they will no longer travel to the United States.
By SUSAN TAYLOR MARTIN, Times Senior Correspondent
© St. Petersburg Times, published November 10, 2002
TORONTO -- As vice president of a Toronto software company that does a lot of business in the United States, Mehdi Nezarati used to travel frequently across the border. Not any more.
Nezarati, a Canadian citizen, arrived at the Toronto airport Sept. 16 expecting the usual quick clearance by U.S. immigration officials. Instead, they videotaped, photographed, fingerprinted and questioned him at length. By the time they finished, Nezarati had missed his plane to Orlando and had to take a flight the next day -- after going through another grueling interrogation.
"I have not flown back since," he says. "I told my clients, 'I'm not flying into the States. Either you come here or we conduct business by video conference.' "
The reason for his ordeal wasn't that he has a criminal history or ties to terrorists. It was simply because of where he was born -- Iran.
In a new registration policy announced on the anniversary of the Sept. 11 attacks, natives of five countries considered state sponsors of terrorism -- Iran, Iraq, Syria, Libya and Sudan -- are subject to fingerprinting, photographing and other special security checks when visiting the United States. In addition, they must report to an immigration official on the day they leave the country, and they can exit only through certain "ports of departure." (Orlando is one, Tampa is not.)
The policy drew little attention until Maher Arar, a Syrian-born Canadian citizen, was stopped by U.S. immigration agents as he tried to change planes in New York on his way home to Ottawa. Agents accused Arar of having ties to al-Qaida, and deported him to Syria last month without notifying Canadian authorities. He is still in detention.
Outrage over Arar's case was fueled by reports that other Canadian citizens had been harassed solely because of their place of birth. In a rare step, Canada issued a travel advisory warning those of Middle Eastern descent to think twice before crossing the border. Award-winning novelist Rohinton Mistry, a Canadian born in India, canceled the second half of a U.S book tour, saying he had faced "unbearable" humiliation from racial profiling in U.S. airports.
Canada's foreign minister, Bill Graham, complained to the Bush administration that stricter security checks were unnecessary, arguing that anyone granted Canadian citizenship had undergone rigorous scrutiny.
"Canadian citizens have a right to be treated as Canadian citizens wherever they were born," Graham said.
But Canada has long suffered from the perception that its immigration policies and passport controls are sufficiently loose to make it "a complete haven for international terrorists," as talk show host Pat Buchanan put it. Last year, a Montreal student pleaded guilty to procuring several false Canadian passports, one of which was reportedly used by an Algerian arrested as he tried to enter America in 1999 with enough explosives to blow up Los Angeles International Airport.
In a news conference at the Niagara Falls, N.Y., border Thursday, U.S. Attorney General John Ashcroft said the so-called National Security Entry-Exit Registration system "is working extremely well." Since it began, 14,000 people have been registered, and 179 arrested, mostly for fake documents or criminal records apparently unrelated to terrorism.
Ashcroft insisted the system does not automatically target Canadian citizens because of where they were born. But skepticism remains -- although the travel advisory was lifted, Canadian officials said they are still trying to clarify the U.S. policy, especially as it affects Canadians who hold dual citizenship.
The new registration system has caused particular concern in Toronto, which has the largest Iranian community in North America outside of Los Angeles. By some estimates, as many as 100,000 people of Iranian descent make their home here, many of whom left Iran long ago because of its repressive Islamic leadership and support for Hezbollah and other terrorist groups.
"Fanaticism and radicalism -- this is something most of the people here tried to flee," says Mehdi Hatami, a computer consultant who has been a Canadian citizen for 16 of his 45 years.
"Most of the people here brought their families to be away from that mess and now that mess is coming here. Every Iranian-Canadian you talk to understands and sympathizes with the United States in this matter because we have seen how hostilities have ruined the lives of so many people in the Middle East. We are not against increasing security -- the whole issue is the way it has been implemented."
Hatami says it makes no sense that the registration policy targets people born in Iran, which had no known connection to the Sept. 11 attacks, while initially exempting those from Saudi Arabia, home of 15 of the 19 hijackers. (The policy has since been expanded to include Saudi Arabia, but not Egypt, birthplace of lead hijacker Mohamed Atta.)
Other Iranian-Canadians say the policy also fails to distinguish between people who fit a terrorist profile and those who regularly travel across the border to visit family or conduct business.
Nezarati, the software executive, used to go to America at least twice a month to see clients. "My history is quite clear with U.S. immigration because every time I fly through they scan my passport," he says.
So Nezarati was stunned by what happened Sept. 16 when he arrived at Toronto's Pearson International Airport, one of several outside the United States where passengers can clear U.S. immigration before boarding the plane. An INS agent questioned him extensively, then announced: "We've decided to enroll you in the program."
Nezarati, who has not been to Iran since he left in 1981, learned with dismay that he would have be fingerprinted, photographed and questioned every time he entered the United States.
Nor was that the only aggravation. Because he had missed his plane, Nezarati had to pay a $200 penalty to get another ticket for the next day. The flight to Orlando, his planned destination, was full so he had to go to Fort Lauderdale and rent a car. The delays also cost him two days of lost work.
Nezarati, 32, says he was treated decently by the INS agents, who themselves seemed to regard the procedure as "silly" and apologized for putting him through it. Still, he thinks they deliberately dragged out the questioning and seemed unconcerned he would miss his flight.
"I did feel they were playing a bit of a waiting game -- the whole thing shouldn't have taken more than 20 minutes," says Nezarati, who was detained more than an hour.
Iranian-born Canadian Andre Nazarian has quit going to the United States because of the "humiliating and offensive way" he was treated by U.S. agents.
Nazarian used to travel often to America, where he owns manufacturing plants and has many relatives, including a daughter at Princeton University. On Sept. 15, Nazarian and several of his employees went to Pearson International to fly to Philadelphia and then on to Amsterdam, the Netherlands. Although the others had no problem, Nazarian, 53, was told he would be entered in the U.S. registration program because he was born in Iran.
"I am Christian-Armenian, not even a Muslim," says Nazarian, a Canadian citizen for more than 30 years. "They took me in and made me wait more than 21/2 hours. I missed my flight and nobody seemed to care and their attitude was so arrogant and insulting."
Told he would be subject to the same intense scrutiny every time he crossed the border, Nazarian took back his passport and caught a direct flight to Amsterdam. He says he might have to close his plants in the United States unless it changes its policies.
"I don't mind Canadian or American authorities putting me through the process once and giving me clearance. But I cannot be subject to this harassment every time I go back and forth."