The Flight From Reason

When I think the time has come to offer some pithy comment on life at school, or the current depredations of the Liverpool midfield, or the surprising dullness of Measure for Measure - then along comes the world to draw me back to the fray. I'd rather not write about the incredulity engendered by the reaction to Pope Benedict's speech, but once again it makes me wonder if it's me or if it's the world.

I was in the office on Saturday and rhetorically wondered why we in the West didn't take to burning effigies of people with whom we disagreed.

'Because we're civilised,' answered a colleague.

And you have to wonder. Reading the full text of the Pope's speech, it's hardly surprising that he wondered what all the fuss was about. The 'offensive' comment is (a) tangential to the body of the speech (b) a quote from a fourteenth-century emperor (c) placed firmly in context if you bother to read the rest.

So His Holiness makes the speech, which is thoughtful and thought-provoking, and is burnt in effigy in Pakistan while the BBC tracks down Muslims to be offended on camera. Thanks to the wonder of realclearpolitics.com, I have now read the op-ed in the New York Times and Karen Armstrong's piece in the Guardian. As for the latter, I assume that the author of Islam: a history knows more than I do, but the column itself is sub-tabloid hackwork, to which I amy return if I have more time.

And the Times, in calling for a 'deep and persuasive apology,' has lost the plot completely. I realise that it's easy to sit here and happily lay into other people's work, but this is borderline insane. This is how the piece concludes:

'A doctrinal conservative, his greatest fear appears to be the loss of a uniform Catholic identity, not exactly the best jumping-off point for tolerance or interfaith dialogue.'

From the leader of the Universal Catholic Church! Who'd've thought?

'The world listens carefully to the words of any pope. And it is tragic and dangerous when one sows pain, either deliberately or carelessly. He needs to offer a deep and persuasive apology, demonstrating that words can also heal.'

But the world hasn't been listening carefully, for which the media - who seemed to be pre-emptively calling for apologies - bears a heavy culpability for deliberate deception.

So many points haven't been missed since Sunderland were last in the Premiership. But the wider issue exemplified by the Times' reaction is that waspishly addressed by my colleague (who would, presumably, also fall foul of their in-house Board of Sanctimony). Only the other day my sister and I were reflecting on the gloomy fact that, despite a broad consensus on acceptable social behaviour, people who are bullying, self-centred and generally unreasonable seem to forge successful careers. This is often because it's far too much trouble not to let them have their way.

You can see the analogy. It is increasingly the case that somebody says/writes/draws something that some Muslims find offensive; some Muslims react with a mixture of righteous indignation and violence; many non-Muslim bodies cringe that the somebody has offended Muslims; the somebody backs down. Rather like the Boston newspaper that admitted it wouldn't print the Muhammed cartoons because it didn't want to be attacked.

The reaction to the Pope's speech was ridiculous and absurd. Yet he gets it in the neck from the Times for promoting a 'false and bigoted' view of Islam as beligerent and aggressive, while the Muslims issuing threats and burning him in effigy are, obviously, the perfect advert for a modern, tolerant faith. When exactly did we go through the looking-glass?

Why do we react to offences against the 'west' (of which there are many, ignored by the media with what amounts to a curious inverse racism) with shrugs and apologies? Because 'we're civilized.'

What did Pound say about an old bitch gone in the teeth?