Global politics would be healthier if
different groups were mindful of one another’s sensitivities. But,
paradoxically, the demand for respect has itself become a source of discord,
because it is an impossible one to meet
Relations between the Islamic World and the West were already tense before the
Pope’s lecture at
the mill of those who believe that a clash of civilisations is all but
inevitable.
wary of the Pope’s claim that
acknowledge and protect its essentially Christian identity, is embittered
further. Assorted protests continue across the Muslim world.
Critiques of the Pope’s theological and historical judgments abound, but do not
address questions raised by this episode. Does globalisation require an ethic
of religious exchange? Should there be a set of norms, un-stated conventions,
restraints that govern religious exchange? What makes the challenge of a
religious exchange particularly acute is the fact that reported acts of
terrorist violence are, in the public mind, associated with one religious
group: Islam. A religion already on the defensive, seeing itself under a state
of siege, is doubly sensitive to such portrayals. But this heightened
sensitivity, paradoxically, only reinforces stereotypes of Islam, thus creating
a vicious cycle.
One response to this vicious cycle is to be more honest about the complex roots
of political violence in the modern world. Terrorism is not the preserve of one
creed; it has its roots as much in nationalism as in religion. Terrorist
violence should not exempt state-sponsored forms of violence, like the war on
terror, from scrutiny. This is not to excuse terrorism, but to create a space
where discussions of violence are not seen as a pretext for targeting Islam.
Opening this space is an uphill battle at both ends: the papal indiscretion and
President Bush’s remarks on Islamic fascism remind how quickly we can descend
into a discourse of religious conflict. Meanwhile, the Muslim world in
the stereotypes being imposed upon them.
Heightened religious sensitivities dot the global landscape. They raise
profound questions for an ethic of religious exchange. Hindus protested when
textbooks in
suggested that Hinduism was associated with caste oppression. The film, “The Da
Vinci Code,” led to demonstrations in many parts of the world. Muslim groups
often protest how their religion is represented. Religious groups constantly
protest how they are represented by others. The protests have an underlying
assumption: that there is a correct way to represent a religion’s historical
tenets and doctrines. The test of this correct way is that the representation
should not offend or impugn the adherents of the group being represented.
Even those who are non-members of any religion whose adherents feel hurt by
particular representations implicitly agree with this demand. The idea that we
should respect all religions and be mindful of the sentiments of believers
seems like a good counsel of prudence. It might even teach us to value a
diverse range of resources upon which members of different cultures and faiths
draw to understand the world and give their lives meaning. Misrepresenting a
religion both insults adherents and turns a blind eye to immense cultural
achievement.
The call for respecting all religions seems as plausible a candidate for an
ethic of global religious exchange as any. And on the face of it, it seems
reasonable. Global politics would be healthier if different groups were mindful
of one another’s sensitivities. But, paradoxically, the demand for respect has
itself become a source of discord, because it is an impossible one to meet.
Religions must recognise four facts: As glorious as religious heritages might
be, most organised religion comes with unsavoury baggage. All kinds of
oppression and violence have been licensed in their name. We can debate whether
this constitutes the essence of a particular religion. But it is near
impossible to debate historical religions without representing any in a way
that does not offend some of its adherents. These representations should not be
malicious or undertaken with impunity, but will be discomforting nonetheless.
Second, despite calls for respect, the blunt truth is that almost no religion
can, from within its own theological premises, grant parity to other religions
in some deep and meaningful sense. In this way, religious speech intrinsically
creates hierarchies of one kind or the other.
Third, belief is not a matter of will. We cannot oblige other people to think
about history or theology in a particular manner. All we can hope is that their
conclusions about religion are made in good faith, not a product of wilful
misinterpretation. But the line between good-faith inquiry and demeaning
conclusions is very thin in the eyes of most adherents.
Finally, the form that the demand for respect takes is inherently competitive
in two ways. First, it constantly escalates. We have gone from a state where
outrage used to be expressed against grossly malicious representations, to a
state where ordinary historical discussion can occasion outrage. Religious
groups are quick to defend against any offence, but are silent when others are
offended. Muslim groups rarely protest appalling representations of the West or
of Jews. Hindu groups, normally quick on the take when the Pope is deemed to
offend their co-religionists, remained silent on the Pope’s remarks on Islam.
In short, the politics of respect is not a universal ethic. It is instead a
competitive game where different religious groups show how much power they have
by demanding respect.
It appears that the prospects of a global ethic of religious exchange are at an
impasse. The demand that any mention of religion requires an expression of
respect is an impossible task. It has generated a competitive politics of
seeking respect. The second option is a kind of global pact, where mere mention
of other religions is seen as, at the every least, lacking in tact. Such
forbearance would impose its own costs on freedom and will be impossible to
sustain. The third option in global religious exchange is some form of
inter-religious dialogue. While such a dialogue can obviate gross
misunderstandings, it is too much to hope that it will allow serious
differences to be overcome.
The only solution is to shift the ground of the debate from religion. We cannot
have a global discussion expunged of all references that religious groups may
find discomforting; nor can we oblige people to think and speak of other
religions in particular ways. All we can hope is to create a culture where
everyone’s basic freedoms are protected. A culture of rights is a more honest
response than the demand for respect. But this culture of rights has two
requirements: Religious differences will have to be detached from political
fault lines. But most importantly, religious groups must overcome their sense
of fragility, and have more confidence in managing constructions others place
on them. A culture of religious exchange can be sustained only when adherents
of religions begin to trust that “Our God can defend himself better than we
can.”
Pratap Bhanu Mehta is president of the
Centre for Policy Research in Delhi, India
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