Various pieces today bring up the Danish cartoon conflagration (which only seems to be worsening). Mark Steyn, in his usually pithy manner, argues against the errors of multi-culturalism:
One day, years from
now, as archaeologists sift through the ruins of an ancient
civilization for clues to its downfall, they'll marvel at how easy it
all was. You don't need to fly jets into skyscrapers and kill thousands
of people. As a matter of fact, that's a bad strategy, because even the
wimpiest state will feel obliged to respond. But if you frame the issue
in terms of multicultural "sensitivity," the wimp state will bend over
backward to give you everything you want -- including, eventually, the
keys to those skyscrapers. Thus, Jack Straw, the British foreign
secretary, hailed the "sensitivity" of Fleet Street in not reprinting
the offending cartoons.
Eugene Volokh, as Prof. Blanchard notes, chides the Boston Globe for its inconsistencies on religious intolerance. Volokh seems to think the Globe now has it right, needlessly offending religious groups is wrong, but his point is that the Globe does not hold the same standard when non-Muslims are being offended. Volokh writes:
There's actually much that I agree with here; that one is and should be
legally free to say something doesn't mean that it's right to say it.
And while religious ideas, like all ideas, should be open to vigorous
debate, needless emotional provocation generally doesn't much advance
the debate.
Then there is the mischievous Christopher Hitchens, who supports the cartoonists because Hitchens hates religion. In that sense he is equal opportunity.
It is revolting to me to breathe the same air as wafts from the
exhalations of the madrasahs, or the reeking fumes of the
suicide-murderers, or the sermons of Billy Graham and Joseph Ratzinger.
You know, suicide bombers, Billy Graham, they're all the same thing. Hitchens expresses an opinion that I suspect is secretly shared by many. The zeitgeist of our times, at least in the West, seems not to be that we give too much deference to religion, but that we are irreverent. Take the popular and witty cartoon South Park. Many herald this show for its ability to make fun of "all sides." And as far as I can tell, being only a part-time viewer, it's true. The problem with the show is that when you are irreverent toward everything you are reverent toward nothing. The pose of detached irony can only get you so far, and sooner or later you are wondering why there is no meaning in your life, so why not go out and buy an ipod because the commercials tell you that you'll be happy if you have one.
There does seem to be a "clash of civilizations": a modern West versus certain strains of pre-modern Islam (see the article by Bernard Lewis that coined the "clash of civilizations" language, later popularized by Samuel Huntington). And as Steyn notes, at least when one considers the European part of the West, one side seems to be doing all the fighting and the other side all the surrendering. Perhaps James Burnham was right all those years ago. If the West is going to die it will not be a murder, it will be a suicide. If the Danish cartoons serve any purpose it is to remind us that not all manifestations of Islam are peaceful, at least not as the West defines peace, and deserve to be opposed vigorously. For peace might mean me and you getting along together. Peace might also mean me killing you, in which case I am left alone in peace while you, of course, rest in peace. Certain elements of Islam seem to have bought into the second definition of peace.
George Weigel and others have noted that central to Europe's unwillingness to defends its institutions is its lost of religious faith, in particular its loss of Christian faith. I suppose Weigel, like Hugh Hewitt on the cartoon business, might just be making such arguments because he is a religious conservative, thus he can easily be dismissed as defending a position out of lame parochialism rather than out of sound reason. Or, perhaps there is something to the argument that a continent that believes in nothing has no response to those be believe in something very strongly. I recall a graduate school professor of mine who said, only half in jest, that he'd have an easier time teaching political philosophy to Islamic radicals than to Americans, because the Muslims at least think there is something to argue about, while the American student believes in "whatever floats your boat." The American pathology manifests itself in two way. One is the Hitchens position (although he, of course, is British by birth), apparently shared by parts of the entertainment culture, that religion is something to be attacked because he supposes that it limits his ability to worship himself. This "we'll believe in nothing" easily morphs into "we'll believe in anything." The other manifestation is a kind of uber-latitudinarianism in which it doesn't really matter what you believe, as long as you believe in something. This kind of shallow faith is easily undermined and we quickly find ourselves back in the position of believing in nothing. That is the similarity. Both anti-religious antagonism and soft-headed religious relativism are a product of a people that don't really believe in anything. These two positions, and others, tend to see religion merely as a political problem to be solved (which is true) rather than as a something essential to the human experience which can offer political solutions as well (also true).
While I can read certain necessary arguments into the Danish cartoons, one wonders if the cartoons aren't a product of a general European distaste for religion. Irreverence ultimately gets you nowhere. Perhaps the same point could have been made in another manner, perhaps pointing to the gap between Islam's stated goals and the actions of too many of its adherents. The same kind of lampoon is effective against all religious groups, and the distance between our ideals and our behavior is at the heart of good satire.
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