Am I Charlie?

For the past two weeks, most of my spare time has been taken up by the deeply unpleasant business of moving house.  We’ve only moved a few hundred yards, but nonetheless the process of packing, moving, unpacking and cleaning has been neither brief nor easy.  (And, indeed, we only got the internet back yesterday!)

This is all by way of an excuse for not having written a new blog post for a little while, especially given the events of the past couple of weeks.  Having pontificated previously on the question of free speech, offense, blasphemy and religious toleration, I thought I’d better weigh in on this one too, and let you all know the Important Thoughts I’ve had on the subject.

Firstly of course, I should restate my absolute belief that anyone should have the right to say anything to anyone, and not face violence, persecution or prosecution.  If we wish to have freedom of speech, we have to accept that people are free to speak, whether they are racists, fascists, lunatics or even people who disagree with me on any subject whatsoever.  People have the right to be as offensive, crude, vulgar, blasphemous or generally unpleasant as they can possibly be, and do so without fear of violent or legal reprisal.  Of course, they also have to accept that others can act in exactly the same way towards them.

However, as Chesterton once said, “To have a right to do a thing is not at all the same as to be right in doing it.”  I believe absolutely that you should have the right to be offensive.  I would defend it to the death.  That does not mean that I think you actually should be offensive.  The cartoons published by the French magazine Charlie Hebdo were offensive, and deliberately so.  They have every right to publish them.  I just don’t think that they should have.  Not out of fear, you understand.  If there was any suggestion that someone was not saying or publishing a thing purely out of fear of attack, then I would strongly suggest that they say it or publish it, and I would be happy to publically support them, if only because the kind of people who resort to intimidation and threat are perhaps the only sort of people who actually do need belittling and insulting.

No, I think that they should have refrained from publishing those cartoons for the simple fact that they were insulting.  I do not like having my beliefs and opinions insulted.  Challenged, yes.  Having them challenged is absolutely vital, but insulted?  No.  It’s the issue I take with much of the aggressive, evangelical atheism I see online.  Much of it seems to be far more interested in insulting religious belief than in challenging it in a sensible, respectful (but nonetheless challenging) manner, and this is helpful to no-one whatsoever.  Satirise it by all means.  Make fun of it, laugh at it, but stop short of direct insult if you want the conversation to continue.  Charlie Hebdo might hold itself up as an icon of free speech, and in a faintly unpleasant, distinctly canary-like way I suppose it is, but to me it also represents the abuse of free speech to deliberately upset others in a way that is completely non-constructive.  If anything, it’s just entrenched people’s views, widened divisions, added grist to the extremist mill and generally made things worse. 

In a way, I actually think the cartoon of Mohammed printed in the first issue after the attack was more justified, since it acted as a signal that the magazine would not be swayed by violence or threats of violence, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t think the initial cartoon can be justified by a mere appeal to the principal of free speech.

The BBC (yeah, yeah, I know) ran an article about people getting fired for posting racist comments online.  Well, which are we going to have?  Do we want free speech, in which Charlie Hebdo can publish offensive cartoons, or do we want limits on what one can say, even as private individuals online?  Should people be racist?  Of course not.  Should they be ostracised or, preferably, reasoned with and educated?  Very much so.  Should they lose their job (assuming of course that they are not acting in an official manner, or on a company blog or twitter feed etc, or otherwise representing the company when they make the post) over their (unpleasant, offensive) personal opinions?  My opinion on holocaust denial is the same.  Historians who deny the holocaust should be publically identified as very poor historians, and their scholarship and credentials rightly scrutinised and doubted, but should it be illegal?  Should it be against the law to hold an erroneous opinion?  I believe not.  We cannot have it both ways, and only maintain the right to be offensive when it’s not us being offended.

If we actually believe in the principle of free speech, and we certainly claim to, then we have to accept that it applies to everybody equally, irrespective of their position or opinion. 

Am I Charlie?  No, I am not, nor do I want to be, thank you.  However, I will defend to the death your right to be Charlie if that’s what you think is right.

Of Sow’s Ears and Silk Purses Part 2: Through Heartbreak to Hope

This week has seen two high-profile, tragic incidents in the news.  First the hostage crisis and 16 hour siege in Sydney in which 2 people were killed, and then the attack on the school in Pakistan, in which 132 children and 9 teachers were killed, and 125 others were wounded.  Both of these were, at least ostensibly, religiously motivated actions, although I suspect that political motivations were just as significant, and it seems as though in the latter event, revenge played a greater part than either.

Both were carried out by Muslims, the first by a lone individual, the second by a group acting as part of the Pakistani branch of the Taliban.  There has been very little positive news regarding Muslims making headlines recently, and as a result it’s increasingly easy to immediately think of Muslims when one hears the word ‘terrorist’ or ‘extremist’.  As a result, the Muslim community, both here in the UK, and across the world hardly needs more bad publicity, and the vast moderate majority must be despairing, as well as shocked and outraged by what, certainly in the second case at least, can only be called atrocities.

But on top of this must be a great sense of apprehension, even fear.  After all, when Lee Rigby was murdered by Muslim fanatics in the UK, there was a surge of anti-Muslim feeling, with mosques vandalised and Muslims verbally abused in the streets.  It will be sad, but ultimately unsurprising if these recent events don’t cause similar reactions in various places.

It is incredibly heartening then to see that people have already taken steps to ensure that this doesn’t happen, or at least try and limit it as much as possible.  In Australia, #i’llridewithu trended on Twitter.  The idea was for people to offer to accompany visibly identifiable Muslims on public transport to help protect them from any abuse that might be triggered by the events in Sydney.  To what extent this has worked, or was even necessary I don’t know, but it shows a very encouraging response, a level of understanding rather than scapegoating or generalising.  It would have been good if such a thing had occurred here in the aftermath of the Lee Rigby murder.  I hope that next time, and I fear that there will be many next times, something similar will be seen.

In India, the traditional rival and foe of Pakistan, and between whom there is a large amount of very bad feeling which has festered for decades, #IndiawithPakistan began trending on Twitter, as people in India responded to the attack on the school with an outpouring of sympathy and compassion.  It is far too much to hope that this tragedy might lead to a greater reconciliation between the two countries, but it does at least emphasise the fact that people are not their governments, and that historical enemies can be united, albeit briefly, by grief.

These acts were acts of evil, but as is often the case, some good has come of them.  If it can be sustained and repeated, if forgiveness and understanding can replace bitterness and vengefulness, then much will have been achieved.  They may seem like small, insignificant things in the face of massacres and killings, but it is the many tiny, individually insignificant acts of kindness, forgiveness and love that counterbalance the monolithic evils of the world.  Better that they’d never happened at all, but if evil must occur, and I believe that in our world it must always be possible, then we must strive to ensure that at least as much good comes out of it too.

Last Sunday, before either of these events occurred, the church I attend printed the following prayer in its notices as the Prayer of the Week:

Through Heartbreak to Hope

The assignment is clear:

Bind up the broken, proclaim life restored.

Always be joyful!

Sing a song of hope;

Offer it to the world regardless of ears to hear it.

Lord, keep me fixed on the coming light,

Just visible through the haze of my tears.

Lord, clothe me in hope,

The garment of splendour for a heavy heart.

Amen.

Justice and Revenge

In yesterday’s Metro newspaper (See, I don’t just get my news from the BBC!), there was a very brief story that I found extremely disturbing.

The shirt worn by the American Navy SEAL who killed Osama Bin Laden is to go on display in the 9/11 Museum in New York.  Ostensibly, this is to act as a tribute to ‘recognise the bravery’ of US soldiers.  To me though, it represents a distasteful vindictiveness and vengefulness on the part of a country that is vehemently Christian.

If it were the coat of a fire-fighter who helped during the rescue operation on September the 11^th 2001, I would understand and applaud an exhibit representing selflessness and courage.  If it were the jacket of one of the victims, or even one of the survivors, it would represent tragedy and the senseless loss of human life.  If it was the shirt of an American serviceman who’d lost his life fighting the Taliban or in Iraq (or even in the apprehension of Bin Laden, although I don’t believe there were any casualties), I would agree that it could represent and remind us of the bravery of soldiers and other military professionals.  But it’s not.  It’s the shirt of the man who cornered and killed Bin Laden. 

It’s time for the unnecessary disclaimer in which I point out that I execrate Bin Laden and everything he stood for, did and believed in, and that I am well aware that he was a dangerous man and a criminal who needed to be brought to justice.  That he was killed is saddening in that he had no chance to repent of his deeds, but was perhaps justified by the conditions both of his capture and the global military and diplomatic situation at the time.

However, the exhibition of the soldier’s shirt smacks to me not of justice and courage, but of revenge.  When the news broke that Bin Laden had been killed, American papers (and others elsewhere) printed triumphant headlines.  The New York Post’s read ‘GOT HIM!  Vengeance at last! US nails the bastard!’  The Daily News went with ‘Rot in Hell!’  I’m not American, and I’ve no idea about the quality of these papers, nor can I claim that our tabloids wouldn’t go with something very similar in the same position.  However, our country no longer makes any realistic claim to be a Christian nation, whereas religious rhetoric seems to be common in America.

A couple of Sundays ago, one of the readings was from Paul’s letter to the Romans, and in it he exhorted the Roman Christians not to take revenge, but to leave it to God.  ‘Vengeance is mine says the Lord.  I will repay.’  Obviously earthly justice needs to be done, and criminals and terrorists prevented from committing more crimes, and punished and (if possible) rehabilitated.  Others should be deterred from committing similar acts.  Bin Laden’s death, though regrettable was probably both justified and necessary.  America’s jubilation at the news can certainly be understood, if not entirely condoned.

However, to me what this exhibit seems to be doing is making a relic of the shirt, celebrating neither courage or justice, but revenge and the death of a man, and if America made no claims to be Christian, it wouldn’t bother me nearly so much.  Terrestrial justice has been done, but now surely we should leave Bin Laden in the hands of his maker, and not crow over his death.

I am well aware that I am not American, not a New Yorker, and not someone who lost a loved one to the terrorist attacks on the 11^th of September.  I feel no vindictiveness or need for vengeance against the men who perpetrated the bombings in London, although again neither myself nor anyone I know was directly involved in them.  I hope that I wouldn’t even if that was the case, although I can’t know it.

I hope and pray that I will never have to find out, and that if I do, I will be able to leave the final justice to God.