The
Satanic sketches
Feb 2nd 2006
The Economist
A diplomatic and trade row is raging after several European
newspapers—and a Jordanian tabloid—published cartoons of the prophet
Muhammad that were deemed insulting by many Muslims. In Britain,
meanwhile, parliamentarians have defeated a government proposal to
extend laws against incitement to religious hatred. Western democracies
are again struggling to reconcile the right to free expression with
respect for religious belief.
Down with the Danes
IF THE aim was to provoke a reasoned debate about self-censorship,
religious intolerance and the freedom of speech, the editors of
Jyllands-Posten failed miserably. Last September Denmark’s
biggest-selling daily broadsheet noted that a local author could not
find artists to illustrate his book about Muhammad. So the paper
published a series of cartoons depicting the prophet in various guises,
along with an article arguing that “self-censorship…rules large parts
of the western world”. Though the editors said they were “quietly”
making their opinion known, the response has been tumultuous.
Any visual representations of the prophet are frowned upon by the
faithful. And Jyllands-Posten’s cartoons were undeniably strong stuff:
one showed Muhammad in bomb-shaped headgear, another depicted him
wielding a cutlass and a third had him saying that paradise was running
short of virgins for suicide-bombers. The paper insisted that it meant
no offence and refused to say sorry. But the pressure on it continued
to grow, and on Monday January 30th its editors apologised for any
upset they may have caused, while defending their right to publish the
cartoons. This did little to calm Muslims in Europe and beyond, who
have held protests reminiscent of the frenzied reaction to “The Satanic
Verses”, a novel by Salman Rushdie published in 1989. Two of the
cartoonists have received death threats.
On Tuesday, thousands of Palestinians gathered for a second day of
protests in Gaza, chanting “War on Denmark, death to Denmark” with some
burning the Danish flag. On Monday and Thursday, gunmen surrounded the
European Union’s office in Gaza demanding an apology from the Danish
government. Middle Eastern governments and Islamic international
organisations, after months of mild grumbling, are now queuing up to
berate the Danes. Both Libya and Saudi Arabia have withdrawn their
ambassadors from Copenhagen, Denmark’s capital. The Danish prime
minister, Anders Fogh Rasmussen, points out he is not responsible for
what an independent newspaper publishes, though on Tuesday he expressed
his personal “distress” that the drawings have been seen by many
Muslims “as a defamation of the Prophet Muhammad and Islam as a
religion”.
That limited apology did not put an end to the controversy. This week
an insurgent group in Iraq—where Denmark has 530 troops—said it would
target Danes and Norwegians (as a Norwegian newspaper reprinted the
cartoons early this year) in retaliation. The al-Aqsa Martyrs’ Brigade,
the military wing of the Fatah political movement in Gaza and the West
Bank, is also threatening to attack Nordic citizens. Nordic aid workers
are withdrawing from programmes in Yemen, Gaza and other parts of the
Middle East. Denmark has warned its citizens not to travel to Saudi
Arabia.
Worse, the row has spread. On Wednesday a French newspaper, France
Soir, reprinted the Danish cartoons along with drawings of Buddha and
Christian and Jewish gods. Its editor declared that “no religious dogma
can impose its view on a democratic and secular society…we will never
apologise for being free to speak, to think and to believe.”
Representatives of France's 5m-strong Muslim community called the
newspaper's decision “appalling” and “a real provocation”. The editor
was promptly sacked. Across Europe other publications printed the
cartoons, which were also published on the internet. On Thursday, a
newspaper in Jordan called on Muslims to “be reasonable” and published
three of the offending cartoons.
Religious leaders in the Arab world are in no mood for conciliation,
however, and have called for boycotts of Danish products. Across the
Gulf and in north Africa supermarkets have withdrawn Scandinavian
products from their shelves after customers complained. Arla Foods, a
Danish-Swedish dairy producer, says a boycott of its goods has begun,
despite its placing advertisements in Middle Eastern newspapers
distancing itself from the publication of the cartoons. Though classic
Danish food exports—beer and bacon—are not much appreciated in the
Middle East, Arla’s annual sales in the region are worth $487m.
European leaders are lining up to back Denmark. Peter Mandelson, the EU
trade commissioner, says Saudi Arabia’s government could be hauled
before the World Trade Organisation if it is thought to be encouraging
the boycott of Danish goods.
The clash may also hurt the foreign-policy efforts of Nordic countries
more broadly. For years Norway and Sweden, in particular, have been
able to pose as peacebrokers, helping to resolve diverse conflicts in
Sri Lanka, parts of Africa and in the Middle East. Most notably, Norway
hosted peace talks between Israelis and Palestinians in 1993, in Oslo,
while recognised as a neutral and disinterested party. Islamic
hostility to the Nordic region may make such interventions more
difficult in future.
Back to the drawing board
The row also illustrates anew how the right to free expression in
liberal democracies frequently clashes with the sensitivities of the
religious, particularly Muslims. In August last year a Copenhagen radio
station lost its broadcasting licence after a presenter appeared to
call for the extermination of Muslim migrants. In Italy an anti-Muslim
author, Oriana Fallaci, has launched diatribes against Islam. In
November 2004 Theo van Gogh, a Dutch film-maker and outspoken critic of
Islam (who once called radical Islamist immigrants “a fifth column of
goatfuckers”) was murdered by an Islamic extremist.
Former American president Bill Clinton worries that anti-Islamic
prejudice is becoming prevalent in western countries. He has also
condemned “those totally outrageous cartoons against Islam”. But it is
unclear how democracies can discourage conflict without clamping down
on free expression of opinion. This week Britain’s Parliament returned
to a debate on extending laws that forbid incitement to religious
hatred. Current British law provides limited protection against those
who speak out against Jews and Sikhs, but not against those who lambast
Christians, Muslims or other believers. The government wanted to change
this. It also wanted to curb extremist preachers who urge their
followers to commit violence in the name of religion.
Yet civil liberties campaigners said anything that limits freedom of
expression is undemocratic and that existing laws (in Britain, at
least) were sufficient for outlawing incitement to violence. The House
of Lords, Parliament’s upper chamber, amended the law under debate to
ensure firmer defence of freedom of speech. In the Commons, the lower
house, the government tried to toughen the bill again to ensure that
followers of all faiths are protected against threatening, abusive or
insulting behaviour. But the government was defeated in the Commons on
Tuesday evening—only the second time it has lost a vote in the lower
house since Tony Blair became prime minister in 1997. The Lords'
version of the bill, offering greater protection for free expression,
triumphed.
Is there at least the possibility of sober debate? The publishing
experiment by the editors of Jyllands-Posten, whether well-meant or
not, shows that calm, rational discussion of the issue is difficult to
achieve. And just as it took many years for the controversy over Mr
Rushdie’s novel to fade away, this row will long splutter on too.