Uncommon bonds: The friendship of Lindhout, Khadr and Harper

How horrific personal tragedies drew three suffering Canadians—Amanda Lindhout, Omar Khadr, and Rinelle Harper—into a close, unlikely kinship

Omar Khadr, Amanda Lindhout, and Rinelle Harper in Edmonton October 28th, 2015.  (Photograph by Amber Bracken; Styling by Brenna Hardy/Styleista; Clothing by Nordstrom Calgary; Hair and Makeup by Vered Amir).

Omar Khadr, Rinelle Harper and Amanda Lindhout in Edmonton, on October 28th, 2015.
(Photograph by Amber Bracken; Styling by Brenna Hardy/Styleista; Clothing by Nordstrom Calgary; Hair and Makeup by Vered Amir).

Two years ago, a business-sized envelope arrived at my home in Canmore, Alta., from the maximum-security Edmonton Institution prison. It was from Omar Khadr.

I curiously pulled out three lined pages, his neat scrawl covering them front and back. He wrote that he had initially been afraid to read about my experiences as a hostage in my memoir, A House in the Sky, but that he was glad he did, because my fight to survive had resonated with him. He ended the letter, “Your friend, Omar. I hope it’s OK to call you a friend.”

Captured in 2002 by American forces in Afghanistan and charged with war crimes, Omar spent nearly 10 years imprisoned at Guantánamo Bay. Omar was 15 when he was captured, severely wounded and partially blinded during the battle. His punishment has always been controversial, with many arguing that, guilty or not of the crimes, he was a child and should have been charged and treated as such.

Despite our differences, somehow, impossibly, unexpectedly and delightfully, we have become friends.

Omar and I have both received long-term psychological care from the same clinical psychologist, Katherine Porterfield. Porterfield is on staff at the Bellevue program for survivors of torture in New York City. She is one of the most renowned experts in North America on the effects and treatment of PTSD. Over the last three years, her expertise has shaped my recovery, as we Skype each week and visit when we can in

person. So profound is my gratitude that I dedicated my book to her, together with my parents. She has worked with Omar for almost a decade, including much of the time he spent in Guantánamo Bay, mostly over the phone. It was through this connection that he received my book.



For the next year-and-a-half, Omar and I exchanged letters. I sent him postcards from my many travels on book and speaking tours around the world. (As I write this piece, I am in Singapore as part of a two-week work trip to Asia.) Much of our correspondence has been lighthearted, but we’ve also grown to trust each other. There were immediate parallels between our experiences, including the search to make sense of what had happened to us. Until Omar came into my life, I’d never had such explicit conversations about the pain that continued after release. I would often weep as I wrote my letters to him. Some of these never reached him, sent back to me because I’d added stickers which, I later learned, were forbidden in prison. In one undelivered letter, I wrote: “You have to keep going, even when the sun is hidden, because the time we spend in darkness makes the light much brighter when the pain is done. I’ve been there. I’m still here. I know how you feel.” Omar, who was at the time living in a small cell by himself, was articulate in a way that can sometimes read like poetry. His words— he is such a private person, I cannot in good conscience reveal them here—echoed so many things I had felt only a few years earlier in a dark, hopeless place.

Related: Inside the mind of Omar Khadr

Last June, Omar and I met in person for the first time, finding each other in the lobby of the West Edmonton Mall hotel. He’d just been released on bail as part of an appeal. By this point, we had exchanged dozens of long letters, written on everything from scrap pieces of paper to fancy stationery he was able to purchase at the prison store. Our plan was to have breakfast, some eggs and potatoes, and do a little shopping. Omar needed new clothes and I had appointed myself his fashion stylist. He said he was ready to wear some colourful threads after the monotony of prison uniforms. We picked out several button-up dress shirts, one blue-and-white checks, the other bright Guantánamo orange.

I admit I was a little nervous to meet him, because I didn’t know what to expect. But Omar is immediately likeable. He has a great sense of humour and peppers his stories with jokes, often poking fun at himself. When I asked him what he was most excited about, now that he is free, he told me: “experiences.” He loves taking long bike rides and being outside. In public, as I witnessed, people recognize and approach him. He is kind to each one. A young couple at the restaurant came to our table on that first morning. “Omar? Sorry to bother you. We just want to say how happy we are that you are finally free and we wish you all the best.” The woman’s eyes welled up. They, like me, seemed to be moved by his very presence back in the world. Mostly, people just want to shake his hand.

Omar Khadr, Amanda Lindhout, and Rinelle Harper in Edmonton on October 28th, 2015.  (Photograph by Amber Bracken; Styling by Brenna Hardy/Styleista; Clothing by Nordstrom Calgary; Hair and Makeup by Vered Amir).

Amanda Lindhout. (Photograph by Amber Bracken)

In 2009, I returned to Canada after having been held hostage for 460 days in Somalia. I’d been abducted by a group of criminals while trying to land a story as a freelance journalist. The experience of returning was surreal. It was disorienting, difficult to reconnect with friends and to feel a part of the world after having been in captivity. During those first months of recovery, the flashbacks were so intense, I often couldn’t stand. I could see my captors circling me, weapons in their hands. I could smell the musty, dark room; feel the chains on my ankles. These intrusive thoughts bombarded me many times a day. They exhausted me emotionally and physically. I was free, but I wasn’t truly free in my mind. It would only be years later, as a result of therapy, that I would come to understand PTSD and the myriad symptoms I have.

The loneliness of PTSD can’t be overstated. The smell of a banana can remind me of the days I spent starving, sometimes eating the peel in order to stay alive. The sight of a room full of men, a situation that, in my former life, I would have considered mundane, can be such a powerful trigger, I’ve had to flee such events more then once. When you have PTSD, you learn to live with the weight of the experience. In the nearly six years since I was released, the severity of my symptoms has lessened somewhat, if only because I better understand them and don’t allow myself to get lost in the confusion. I’m blessed to have great friends and a supportive family, but even those closest to me will never fully know how many dark moments I face in a day.

Because I chose to be public about my story, many people have reached out with stories of their own. A young woman from the United States wrote me last week to disclose, for the first time, decades of abuse. A man from Cornwall, Ont., recently approached me to say that my story inspired him to forgive the men who tormented him for years in high school. With the connection, we survivors feel less lonely. We try to learn from each other.

I’ve become intensely sensitive to the pain of others as a result of my own. I find myself in an unlikely and unusual role, becoming a source of information, a confidante, an advocate for those who have survived extreme situations. And a friend, as it turns out.

Rinelle Harper speaks at the Assembly of First Nations Election in Winnipeg on Tuesday, December 9, 2014. (Trevor Hagan/CP)

Rinelle Harper speaks at the Assembly of First Nations Election in Winnipeg on Tuesday, December 9, 2014. (Trevor Hagan/CP)

I read Rinelle Harper’s story on the front page of the newspaper one day in November 2014 while sitting in a Toronto hotel room on a book tour. The then-16-year-old had been walking along the Assiniboine River in Winnipeg one evening after celebrating the end of midterms with friends. Separated from them, she was approached by two young men who quickly turned on her. Beaten and sexually assaulted, she was thrown into the icy waters. Downstream and severely injured, she
managed to pull herself ashore. The attackers found her, tried to kill her with a baseball bat and left her for dead. When a jogger discovered her the next morning, she was brought to a hospital, where they found no pulse. As Rinelle hovered between life and death, her family members gathered, holding their breath. Miraculously, she survived.

I was overcome by emotion when I read her story, even needing to call Porterfield to discuss how deeply Rinelle’s story had rocked me. In tears, I confided in her that such cruelty made me afraid of the world. The level of sexual violence, the viciousness of the young men involved, reminded me in some dark ways of my own experiences in Somalia. And my heart broke for her. How does a 16-year-old recover from something so devastating?

I thought about this when, in the months following the attack, Rinelle’s mother, Julie, reached out to me on Facebook, saying Rinelle was familiar with my story. Rinelle is painfully shy, and when we spoke over the phone she gave me short answers to my questions about her well-being. It was only when we met that she opened up, wanting to know about my story, slowly talking about hers. The soft-spoken teenager and I became friends.

Rinelle Harper. (Photograph by Amber Bracken).

Rinelle Harper.
(Photograph by Amber Bracken).

In a number of get-togethers, we have talked about our experiences, the possibility of forgiveness, and fears about the upcoming trials against our respective victimizers. (In Rinelle’s case, two suspects, who were 20 and 17 at the time of the attack, face several charges, including attempted murder, aggravated sexual assault, and sexual assault with a weapon. In June, after years of police work, the RCMP announced it had arrested one of the men allegedly involved in my kidnapping, a Somali citizen named Ali Omar Ader. Arrested in Ottawa after he travelled to Canada believing he had a book deal, he now faces trial for the charge of hostage-taking.)

Over the last year, I have come to know the entire Harper family. I’ve written about their recent struggles, from the family home in northern Manitoba burning to the ground, to Rinelle’s challenge of finding a new high school when her previous school deemed her ineligible for enrolment. In the face of so many devastating events, their tenacity is surprising and inspiring.

Rinelle told me recently that among the most difficult experiences after the assault was the language the media used to describe it. “I hated when they used the word ‘rape,’ ” she said.

She was also initially uncomfortable that her parents made the choice to identify her by name as a victim while she was in critical care, which thrust her, unprepared, into the national spotlight. Like me, Rinelle is now someone who will likely forever be yoked to the narrative of her suffering, discoverable with a simple Google search and subjected to the often-harsh commentary that comes with having an online persona over which you have little control.

Related: Almost missing. Almost murdered. Stories from remarkable Indigenous women

For years after my release, I would only participate in media interviews if the outlet agreed in advance not to use the words “brutal,” “torture,” and “rape,” preferring the more vague term “sexual assault.” I was so sensitive that the mere mention of these words would trigger my PTSD, leaving me paralyzed and tearful. Most journalists showed sensitivity and compassion in their interviews. Occasionally, though, an overly curious interviewer would push for the salacious details, the very things I was struggling to get through privately with Porterfield. When I first disclosed that I had been sexually abused in captivity, at a rally for ending violence against women (Eve Ensler’s One Billion Rising), a number of media outlets screamed about the abuse in their headlines. “Chained, raped, tortured,” read one of them. I felt exposed and re-victimized. I never expected I’d be fielding calls from Asian and European media, asking for more details.

Whether we like it or not, Omar, Rinelle and I all have a public stage—an opportunity, that is, for people to hear us. Is it a responsibility? To speak a message that can help people somehow, and potentially help us to derive meaning from our tragedy? Publishers, like movie directors, find us. It’s an old, tired game. The great temptation is to try to put our trauma behind us and live a “normal” life, but all three of us know there is little normal in what has happened so far. Why should the future be normal, either?

Omar Khadr.  (Photograph by Amber Bracken).

Omar Khadr. (Photograph by Amber Bracken)

As I’ve watched Omar test the new waters of his life, I’ve felt inspired by his outlook. “I can’t change the past . . . I can only work on the future,” he said following his release, and I have seen him live this. He is a student at the Northern Alberta Institute of Technology and King’s University College, finishing up the high school courses he started in prison, working part-time in the cafeteria at King’s. He wants someday to be an emergency medical technician. He lives with a wide-eyed wonder of the world around him, not unlike the way I felt when the chains were finally cut off my ankles and I returned home to re-experience a world I had lost for so long. We have spent time walking together in the Rocky Mountains, both of us in awe of the beauty around us, feeling a sense of profound gratitude that stems from our losses.

Narrative runs through the heart of nearly any recovery. It’s a deep human impulse to share one’s story, to take a challenging experience and make meaning of it, to own it by putting words in it. There is solace in the idea that others want to hear what we’ve been through, to know what we’ve learned. In September, Omar stood on a stage at King’s College, speaking about vulnerability and power in front of 500 students. “To be strong does not mean to be hard and harsh,” he told them, “but it is about opening yourself and being honest.” He said these themes felt important to him, and he spoke about the power we have inside of us to heal.

I’ve endeavoured to use my platform to spread messages about forgiveness and cultivating peace. I’ve travelled all over the world and written extensively about my struggles with PTSD and recovery.

Rinelle says she wants to be a “voice for the voiceless.” She is writing a book with Vancouver author Maggie de Vries for HarperCollins, to be published next spring. She has already addressed thousands of people at two events in Edmonton and Winnipeg, delivering words about ending violence against Aboriginal women, to standing ovations.

A girl of very few words, Rinelle asked me to help with a speech we will present at We Day in Winnipeg later this month. Hunched over my computer, sitting beside her, I took notes, as she told me she wants to speak about the importance of education and how school has been a cornerstone of her recovery. Later this month, Rinelle and I will stand together on a stage in front of 17,000 people and deliver her message about hope and recovery.

Canadian journalist and humanitarian Amanda Lindhout assists with famine relief in Somalia's borders with Kenya and Ethiopia. In 2008 Lindhout was kidnapped by insurgents in Somalia and she spent 15 months in captivity.  Lindhout has a new book out titled "A House in the Sky" which is co-written with Sara Corbett. (Jared Moossy/Redux)

Canadian journalist and humanitarian Amanda Lindhout assists with famine relief in Somalia’s borders with Kenya and Ethiopia. (Jared Moossy/Redux)

I have learned much about my own journey from my friendships with survivors. We have different stories, but many of the same struggles. I am inspired that Rinelle, whose body still has not healed from her attack, and has another surgery in store, still goes to school every day, pushing aside the pain. Omar is overcoming years spent fighting a system that was determined to keep him behind bars, and is now faced with a world that has varied opinions of him. Yet he lives his life with his head high, knowing he can only change the future and not the past. As for me, I strive to understand the effects of trauma and the benefits of gratitude and forgiveness, to share this, with the hope it may be of use to others.

I can’t imagine what it’s like to be Rinelle Harper, or to go through what Omar Khadr has gone through. I only know my own experiences. And even surrounded by kindness and support from my family and community, I still sometimes feel misunderstood and deeply alone. For any survivor, the real struggles are, for the most part, painfully private.

These friendships may be unlikely, but it’s been one of my life’s great blessings for me to find these two. In October, Omar and I walked around a gleaming glacial lake in Alberta. The turquoise green seemed artificial, too good to be true. “Do you worry that this is all a dream?” I asked him. He looked out at the water and said, “These are the moments that I waited for. Now I am here, and I want to take it all in.”

Collectively, we have suffered more than most. We are bruised, but we are still standing. We lean on one another. And, should any of us need it, I have no doubt we’ll carry each other, too.


Uncommon bonds: The friendship of Lindhout, Khadr and Harper

  1. Man’s inhumanity to man.

    I hope that God (any God) will help them recover.

    • Lindhout and Harper certainly deserve compassion and support, but a man who confessed to murdering an American, a father, a husband, does not deserve compassion. Kahdr was caught on tape joking about how murdering Christopher Speers, a medic searching the rubble for enemy survivors when combat was long over, was the best day of his life. This coward deserves compassion?! Khadr is a terrible human being who has never renounced his actions in Afghanistan nor has he denied his support for Al-Qaeda. This is a disgusting cover from McLean’s and I am appalled by their lack of insight into the convited criminal, Omar Khadr’s, horrendous crimes.

      • Your “information” is not credible, and you appear to have no idea what you’re talking about. Khadr was tortured for years by Americans (with Canada’s tacit approval) and he never received a proper trial. The decisions by the kangaroo court that convicted him will likely be overturned in time.

        • As he should have been you Liberal Marxist bleeding heart Liberal!!

        • @Peter – Punker is certainly credible. You have lost your humanity
          and common sense. I dont care if he was 15. At 15 I knew better !!!

          This guy is a puppet for those that want to harm those who hide
          their heads in the sand……namely you.

          Please wake up to this nonsense.
          This is wrong on so many levels.

      • He was 15. A child. We have laws in our country protecting children from the mistakes/brainwashing of their youth. Judge him as he is today. Read the article. Do you judge the boy indoctrinated by his family (as you and I would obviously have been as well) or the gentle, philosophical, optimistic man that stands before us now? I believe nothing that I am told of him that comes from people holding him illegally while also tortured. I would confess to his crimes too if I needed to in order to be free. I suspect you would too.

      • Unfortunately you are a sad and bitter man. The real tragedy is the Treatment accorded Omar by the Canadian government. Complicit in his incarceration, cabinet ministers misleading the public on the risks of returning him into Canadian society and spending tax payer dollars to fight his release through the court system. Save your anger for the recent destruction of the hospital in Afghanistan by American air forces.

        • no the tragedy is the millions of people causing havoc in this world
          over a religion based on the teachings and mayhem of Muhammed.
          A truly vile human being. A dead human being.

          • It’s too bad that your mind is so obviously closed to any information different than what you believe.

      • Compassion is not justice, compassion is not something to be “deserved,” it is possible to have compassion for every human being regardless of who they are. If you hear of someone suffering horrendously, it is possible to have compassion for them, regardless of what you believe they have done.

      • One question: Did you read the article? If not, your comment is basically meaningless.

    • In 2012, Khadr pleaded guilty, guilty, guilty, guilty and guilty to five charges related to the killing of Speer, a 28-year-old medic with the U.S. Special Forces. This young American hero died in Afghanistan in 2002 during an ambush by al-Qaida operatives. Just days before he gave his life, Speer had fearlessly walked onto a minefield to rescue two wounded Afghan children. It was Khadr, born and bred an Islamic jihadist by his terrorist father, who lobbed the fatal grenade in the war zone. Another American soldier, SFC Layne Morris, survived the attack, but was blinded in one eye for life.

      In a sealed plea deal at Guantanamo Bay, Khadr admitted to throwing the grenade. He admitted to attempted murder, conspiracy, spying and providing material support to terrorism. He signed a 50-paragraph stipulation that classified him as an “enemy belligerent because he has purposefully and materially supported hostilities against the United States and its coalition partners” and documented his family’s intimate association and friendship with al-Qaida leaders Osama bin Laden, Ayman al-Zawahiri and Muhammad Atef.

      Don’t believe the international human rights bleeding hearts. The Khadr family is rightfully known as Canada’s First Family of Terror. This so-called “child soldier” and “good kid” was a full-blown Muslim soldier of jihad; he trained one-on-one in weaponry, explosives and Jew hatred. A then-teenage Khadr bragged to a U.S. official “that the proudest moment of his life was constructing and planting IEDs” to “kill U.S. forces.” Thats the real story and dont forget Speers own children and thier pain. There is pictures of Khadr the murder and his other victims he killed before he even got to Speer. He is not a HERO are soldiers who gave their lives to fight monsters like Khadr are the real heroes. I have never seen an interview of Khadr denouncing Al-Qaeda. This is a real hero Speer was awarded the Soldier’s Medal for risking his life to save two Afghan children who were trapped in a minefield on July 21, 2002, two weeks before his death. That’s what I think we are all forgetting Nov 11/15 remember that young man who saved 2 kids and was murdered by Khadr.

      • If you were tortured for the better part of a decade I’m pretty sure you’d admit to anything just to make it stop. The guilty pleas mean nothing.

      • dont cloud the issue with facts lol

        Scared people do not like making a stand.

        They hope it all goes away with a smile.

        Well guess what. It wont. Islam is coming to get ya whether you smile or not.

        Do we not see the irony of who he is standing with ?

    • Since I was also a Hostage in 1990 In Iraq. I fully share your comment. To compare two innocent woman and a war criminal, just don’t make any sense to me.?

    • Lets stop the bleeding he is a convicted war criminal! How can you even compare with the other two innocent women?! Will we give him millions of dollar for fighting against our troops?!

    • You maclean’s people really are the scum of the earth, publicizing a terrorist.

      The following is what I have read about your terrorist “hero”.

      “Khadr’s transformation from a racist, sexist, Jew-hating terrorist, into a celebrity and folk hero is the result of nearly 10 years of combined propaganda by leftist journalists and lawyers – with Khadr as the willing participant,” Levant said. “They have managed to transform a pathological murderer into a ‘victim,’ providing Al Qaeda with a great PR victory.”

      • If you’re getting your information from Ezra Levant, you’re choosing to be willfully ignorant.

        • whats wrong with Ezra ?
          Please enlighten us all.

          In fact lets have YOU tell him personally how he is wrong.

          I am prepared to back my claims. Lets see you do the same.

          My guess is you wont. Easier to hide right.

          • Ezra thinks of himself as a “journalist” but it seems that no major news organization is willing to give him a job, since the demise of his previous employer. Why do you think that is?

          • “whats wrong with Ezra?”

            Who knows?
            Is it a congenital issue that causes him to lie with abandon? Some sort of trauma he suffered?
            We’ll probably never know.

  2. You spit in the face of every Canadian veteran who fought for FREEDOM!!! Omar is a killer who wanted to kill American and Canadian soldiers!!! I only wished that U.S. soldier who captured him would have spent another $0.20 on a bullet to finish him off!!!Shame on you to promote this TERRORIST,just remember not all Muslims are TERRORIST but all TERRORIST are Muslims!!!

    • Here are a couple of names to consider: Timothy McVeigh & Anders Breivik. Both terrorists neither were Muslim. And those are just the ones who popped into my head instantly. With a bit of effort I can find more.
      Freedom includes the rule of law. Something you might want to learn.

      • You Liberal Marxist bleeding heart Liberal!!

      • Agreed 2 complete nut jobs !!
        Theres a ratio of about 5000000:1 on the nut scale
        Unfortunately you cant blame “right wingers” for that.
        Until you realize Islam is a curse on humanity , theres hardly
        a reason to debate with your type.

        You can praise buddy , but right behind him is a thousand more
        ready to blow up a mall you may be shopping at.

        • Kudos on agreeing to complete the nut jobs!
          Those are always the jobs that nobody wants to do.

  3. Here’s a contentious thought: If Khadr is described as a ‘child soldier’, why not, perhaps, focus on the ‘soldier’ part of that. Then, switch your perspective to the US, British, and Canadian soldiers who have ‘murdered’ Iraqi women and children … and continue to this day.

    Why direct your hatred to a brainwashed ‘child’, instead of adult soldiers who volunteer to kill?

    “War is mainly a catalogue of blunders.”
    Sir Winston Chirchill

    • Churchill also knew Islam was a curse. Like rabid dogs.
      Kind of like petting a pitbull on a chain leash

  4. Reading most of the comments below I think that you are missing the central message of this story, forgiveness and turning a dark past into a bright future. There are hateful comments regarding this article which puts those saying them in the category of verbal violence. What makes that ok? Even if you feel strongly against this person should there be no room for forgiveness and acknowledgment that he is trying to atone for his sins/mistakes?

    “Forgiveness has nothing to do with absolving a criminal of his crime. It has everything to do with relieving oneself of the burden of being a victim–letting go of the pain and transforming oneself from victim to survivor.”
    ― C.R. Strahan

  5. Terrible tragedy regarding the two girls.
    However, having what’s his name in the same story is a travesty.
    For me that is the straw that broke this camels back. I cancelled my subscription several day ago.
    Maclean’s, a waste of paper and ink.

    • quote from above:
      Maclean’s, a waste of paper and ink.

  6. In case you guys read the comments (I hope you don’t; 90% are lonely people who write trolls), I just want you to find the peace you’re looking for. The journey is not finished, but you all have done tremendous progress. We love, and need, your message of courage, values, determination and above all forgiveness. Keep going forward. Love.

  7. This is on the Daily Mail front page today…..making many Canadians look like idiots!

    I’m sure all of you are old enough to know what a plea bargain is

    I’m sure you also know there is no such thing as murder on a battlefield

    The court has made it’s ruling folks…..move along

    • “This is on the Daily Mail front page today…..making many Canadians look like idiots!”

      We already did that to ourselves when we elected Trudeau as prime minister…

  8. Two victims, one perpetrator.

    Lindhout has the Christian charity to show love & kindness to an evil man like Khadr — good for her. But that’s no reason for a publication like Maclean’s to glorify him.

    BTW, does anyone doubt that Khadr would’ve cheerfully participated in the assaults on Lindhout and Harper, if they’d been in his part of Afghanistan?

    • Really?

      Gosh, nice white Canadian ‘christian’ boys rape women all the time. Don’t you ever watch the news?.

      • Racism is a good attempt at diversion. The issue is that the women in the article were victims while Khadr was a perpetrator, according to the courts. It has nothing to do with any of the subjects race or religion.

        • “…according to the courts.”

          Ah, no. According to a kangaroo court created for the purpose of ensuring anyone tried would be convicted.

    • Fox news? Seriously?

  9. Amazing all the christians who don’t practice christianity.

  10. Totally disgusted and outraged that MacLean’s would run this article on Omar Khadr…he’s a fucking terrorist…and of all times, the month of Remembrance Day…totally disrespectful to our fallen soldiers. After this post, I will cancel my on-line subscription to MacLean’s and boycott their publication…

  11. unbelieveable that macleans would group an unrepetant murderer who planted IED’s to tomurder canadian soldiers with two legitimate victims of violence. Mr. Khadr, if you want my sympathy apologize for your actions and denounce Al Qaeda.

  12. even if omar DID repent and denounce islamic extremism its still a completely inapropriate magazine cover/story.

  13. The entire Kadhr family are low life sewer dwelling free loading Islamic scum…. too bad they did not shoot Kadhr on the battlefield… would have saved us a ton of money supporting these money sucking scum… for those supporters, screw you. Here are the Kadhrs… https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Khadr_family

  14. This just shows how moronic and useless the progressives are that they would put this piece of crap person on the cover… Kadhr and his family are laughing as they live off welfare, subsidized housing and the stupidity of Canadians. This is a prime example of just how screwed up Canada is…. lets just have Sharia law in Canada already so women can become as useful as animals, gays are killed and infidels are killed. If the people at Macleans will put this piece of dog crap on cover… why not?