Since
the shooting in Texas targeting artists portraying the Prophet
Muhammad, it is worth examining the US treatment of and reaction to
blasphemy.
In June 2011, the Broadway show The Book of Mormon received 14 nominations at the annual Tony awards (more than any other production) and won nine of them, including the coveted “Best Musical.” The script and lyrics are dirty and unfiltered. One song says “F*** you, God.” Throughout the play, the Mormon Church is mocked. Its founder, Joseph Smith, is ridiculed for his beliefs. His followers are insulted. Yet the play becomes a huge hit. Broadway critics and the general public instantly embrace it. Journalists deliver upbeat reviews. Ripples of liberal laughter can be heard across a country where religion is generally taken seriously.
The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints had a very clever reaction to the musical. It said: “The production may attempt to entertain audiences for an evening, but the Book of Mormon as a volume of scripture will change people’s lives forever by bringing them closer to Christ.” No other comment. And that was that.
Fast forward to 2015.
In January, 12 people die in Paris during an attack on the French satirical magazine Charlie Hebdo (in addition to four Jews murdered in a related attack). In February, a man is shot in Copenhagen at an event called “Art, Blasphemy, and Freedom of Expression” (in addition to a Jewish victim later that day). And just this week, two men opened fire at an event in Texas where people were set to present cartoons of the Prophet Muhammad. Against the backdrop of such brutal acts, 145 writers protested PEN American Center’s decision to award Charlie Hebdo for its courage to publish satirical drawings of him.
The protest letter opposing Charlie’s award states that “PEN is not simply conveying support for freedom of expression but also valorizing selectively offensive material: material that intensifies the anti-Islamic, anti-Maghreb, anti-Arab sentiments already prevalent in the Western world.”
So why is blasphemous art offensive to Mormons embraced across the country, while French satire denouncing jihadism creates discomfort? Is blasphemy only accepted when there’s no threat of violent retaliation? The violence in Paris seems to have clouded perceptions of right and wrong.
Satirizing beliefs or using religion to express an idea is not equivalent to arousing hate. Outside of France, Charlie’s ideas always seem to get lost in translation. In many English-speaking media outlets, the paper is seen to intentionally offend Muslim sensibilities. Fiercely anti-clerical, most of its cartoons target the pope. But when tackling Islam, the journal pokes fun at terrorists—not Muslims. In reaction to the Danish cartoon controversy, Charlie’s cover displayed the prophet weeping with the title “Muhammad overwhelmed by fundamentalists grumbling: ‘It’s hard being loved by jerks.’” The image cleverly dissociated the prophet from terrorism. It showed how Islam is manipulated by a minority of fanatics, far from the true believers and peace-loving followers.
Days after the protest letter to PEN, two gunmen opened fire in Texas, where cartoons of the Prophet Muhammad were being displayed at a competition directed by Pamela Geller.
Between Charlie and Geller—the director of the American Freedom Defense Initiative (AFDI)—it’s hard to find such contrasting targets of violence. Whereas Charlie is leftwing, Geller has been banned from entering the United Kingdom to speak at a rally for the far-right English Defense League. Whereas Charlie comments on news stories around the world, the AFDI creates them, by organizing cartoon contests in provocation and defiance. Geller regularly makes sweeping generalizations about Islam and calls to combat “the Islamization of the West.” In 2010, she opposed the construction of a mosque near the World Trade site in New York. These positions actually do intensify anti-Islamic sentiments, just as the petitioners to PEN fear, wrongly, of Charlie’s cartoons.
But let’s be clear: Killing as a reaction to speech—even offensive speech—is never justified. The organizers of the cartoon contest are not responsible for the attack in Texas. (In fact, the Islamic State is: They claimed responsibility for it on May 5th).
The bottom line is that we need more speech, not less. We should continue to ridicule jihadists, satirize the simplistic positions of the Pamela Gellers of the world, and parody religion, even to convey the message of fighting intolerance.
If smartly used, satire and blasphemy can crush stereotypes. The Book of Mormon, while mocking religion, also celebrated it. It scorned dogmas yet tenderly showed how beliefs aid the quest for deeper meaning in life. That mélange, where comedy meets tragedy, and laughter meets introspection, gave it a rare depth. It was quintessential US entertainment. That’s America’s best response.
Joelle Fiss is a member of the Foreign Policy Initiative’s Leadership Network and a consultant on international affairs, with a focus on human rights. She recently published two articles on the Charlie Hebdo attacks in Le Monde and Libération. The views expressed are her own. Affiliations are provided for identification purposes, and do not suggest institutional endorsement
In June 2011, the Broadway show The Book of Mormon received 14 nominations at the annual Tony awards (more than any other production) and won nine of them, including the coveted “Best Musical.” The script and lyrics are dirty and unfiltered. One song says “F*** you, God.” Throughout the play, the Mormon Church is mocked. Its founder, Joseph Smith, is ridiculed for his beliefs. His followers are insulted. Yet the play becomes a huge hit. Broadway critics and the general public instantly embrace it. Journalists deliver upbeat reviews. Ripples of liberal laughter can be heard across a country where religion is generally taken seriously.
The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints had a very clever reaction to the musical. It said: “The production may attempt to entertain audiences for an evening, but the Book of Mormon as a volume of scripture will change people’s lives forever by bringing them closer to Christ.” No other comment. And that was that.
Fast forward to 2015.
In January, 12 people die in Paris during an attack on the French satirical magazine Charlie Hebdo (in addition to four Jews murdered in a related attack). In February, a man is shot in Copenhagen at an event called “Art, Blasphemy, and Freedom of Expression” (in addition to a Jewish victim later that day). And just this week, two men opened fire at an event in Texas where people were set to present cartoons of the Prophet Muhammad. Against the backdrop of such brutal acts, 145 writers protested PEN American Center’s decision to award Charlie Hebdo for its courage to publish satirical drawings of him.
The protest letter opposing Charlie’s award states that “PEN is not simply conveying support for freedom of expression but also valorizing selectively offensive material: material that intensifies the anti-Islamic, anti-Maghreb, anti-Arab sentiments already prevalent in the Western world.”
So why is blasphemous art offensive to Mormons embraced across the country, while French satire denouncing jihadism creates discomfort? Is blasphemy only accepted when there’s no threat of violent retaliation? The violence in Paris seems to have clouded perceptions of right and wrong.
Satirizing beliefs or using religion to express an idea is not equivalent to arousing hate. Outside of France, Charlie’s ideas always seem to get lost in translation. In many English-speaking media outlets, the paper is seen to intentionally offend Muslim sensibilities. Fiercely anti-clerical, most of its cartoons target the pope. But when tackling Islam, the journal pokes fun at terrorists—not Muslims. In reaction to the Danish cartoon controversy, Charlie’s cover displayed the prophet weeping with the title “Muhammad overwhelmed by fundamentalists grumbling: ‘It’s hard being loved by jerks.’” The image cleverly dissociated the prophet from terrorism. It showed how Islam is manipulated by a minority of fanatics, far from the true believers and peace-loving followers.
Days after the protest letter to PEN, two gunmen opened fire in Texas, where cartoons of the Prophet Muhammad were being displayed at a competition directed by Pamela Geller.
Between Charlie and Geller—the director of the American Freedom Defense Initiative (AFDI)—it’s hard to find such contrasting targets of violence. Whereas Charlie is leftwing, Geller has been banned from entering the United Kingdom to speak at a rally for the far-right English Defense League. Whereas Charlie comments on news stories around the world, the AFDI creates them, by organizing cartoon contests in provocation and defiance. Geller regularly makes sweeping generalizations about Islam and calls to combat “the Islamization of the West.” In 2010, she opposed the construction of a mosque near the World Trade site in New York. These positions actually do intensify anti-Islamic sentiments, just as the petitioners to PEN fear, wrongly, of Charlie’s cartoons.
But let’s be clear: Killing as a reaction to speech—even offensive speech—is never justified. The organizers of the cartoon contest are not responsible for the attack in Texas. (In fact, the Islamic State is: They claimed responsibility for it on May 5th).
The bottom line is that we need more speech, not less. We should continue to ridicule jihadists, satirize the simplistic positions of the Pamela Gellers of the world, and parody religion, even to convey the message of fighting intolerance.
If smartly used, satire and blasphemy can crush stereotypes. The Book of Mormon, while mocking religion, also celebrated it. It scorned dogmas yet tenderly showed how beliefs aid the quest for deeper meaning in life. That mélange, where comedy meets tragedy, and laughter meets introspection, gave it a rare depth. It was quintessential US entertainment. That’s America’s best response.
Joelle Fiss is a member of the Foreign Policy Initiative’s Leadership Network and a consultant on international affairs, with a focus on human rights. She recently published two articles on the Charlie Hebdo attacks in Le Monde and Libération. The views expressed are her own. Affiliations are provided for identification purposes, and do not suggest institutional endorsement
