By Tara Pepper
Britain debates the limits of religious free speech.
Newsweek International
Omar Marzouk, a Muslim comedian from Denmark, had but one request at last month's Edinburgh Fringe Festival. "Tell me if you don't find my jokes funny." he told his audience. "I don't want to die— I'm not that kind of Muslim."
Poking fun at the world's religions was de rigueur at Edinburgh's annual stage jamboree. Reason: fears that a controversial new " anti-blasphemy " law could curtail freedom of speech. The proposed legislation, to be debated by Britain's House of Lords next month, allows prosecution in cases where behavior or written material—such as a book, play or broadcast—could potentially incite religious hatred. Home Office officials say the law would not bar legitimate criticism of religion—nor comedians' lampooning of faiths—but argue that there must be some defense against speech motivated by religious hatred. With religion intruding into politics and the arts across Europe, though, many worry the legislation is a step too far.
Europeans have long had laws against blasphemy. Most are holdovers from the late 17th century and, until recently, were all but dead. But lately religious groups have seized upon them. In Italy, journalist Oriana Fallaci, whose criticism of the country's Muslims has won support from the conservative, anti-immigration right, is awaiting trial on charges of vilifying Islam. French bishops have taken legal action against a Marithe + Francois Girbaud ad they say mocks the Last Supper. In Denmark, Muslims filed complaints against two state TV stations after they broadcast excerpts of " Submission," by the murdered Dutch filmmaker Theo van Gogh, portraying violence against women as endemic in Islam. Some think Britain's new law will be used similarly. "It's about saving Muslims from attack," says religious historian David Nash—a perfectly reasonable goal, he adds, "except that the law will be used indiscriminately by religious groups who want to see offense. "
Existing British blasphemy laws cover Christianity. Sikhs and Jews are shielded because they are regarded as distinct races falling under laws prohibiting incitement to racial hatred. Muslim groups have lobbied for similar protection since 1988, with the publication of Salman Rushdie's "The Satanic Verses," and they stepped up their efforts after 9/11 out of fear of an anti-Islam backlash. For critics, however, the question is whether any religion should be so protected. " Any system of ideas that requires you to ring-fence it is a mistake," Rushdie said recently. Many artists in Edinburgh questioned whether his work would even be published under the proposed law.
Supporters say such concerns are overwrought. "The lords will look for tight drafting, with guarantees that it won't be used in respect of comedians or literature of a serious kind," says Rabinder Singh, chairman of the British bar's race and religion committee. As for Marzouk, he's not fazed. Denmark already has similar laws, he notes. " Every human being holds something holy," he told his Edinburgh audience in a neat segue to the serious.
"We can all have some respect for that."
