Let the American anti-Quran pastor visit Britain

Theresa May is being urged to ban him. Free speech demands she shouldn’t.

I'm sure we all remember Terry Jones, the Florida pastor with a novel and bracing approach to interfaith dialogue – he's the one who thought the best way to mark the anniversary of the 11 September 2001 attacks this year was to declare it "International Burn a Quran Day" (although only, as you'll notice if you look at the poster he had made, between 6pm and 9pm).

The English Defence League has announced that Pastor Jones is due to address an event in Luton in February "on the evils and destructiveness of Islam". As a result, as today's Observer reports, the Home Secretary, Theresa May, is now "under intense pressure" to ban him from Britain.

The views of the EDL should be perfectly clear by now, as should the group's low opinion of Islam. (For those who require clarification, this report by my colleague Daniel Trilling, "God bless the Muslims. They'll need it when they're burning in effing hell", should suffice.)

As for Pastor Jones: although on one level his physical similarity to the hicks and halfwits who populate the town of Rock Ridge in Mel Brooks's Blazing Saddles inclines one not to take him too seriously, there was nothing remotely amusing about his hate-filled proposal, nor about the international furore it caused, earning him the condemnation of the US state department, the Vatican and the US army in Afghanistan.

Is he a welcome visitor? No, of course not. Neither was the Dutch politician Geert Wilders when he came to Britain in March. I find it sickening, and distressing, too, that they should propagate such an extreme and distorted picture of Islam – just as I find it sickening and distressing that there are some Muslim clerics who do the same.

But I am also alarmed at the alacrity with which many then jump to saying that this person or that – in this case Pastor Jones – should be refused entry into the UK. The Labour MP Jon Cruddas says, "We should not allow racial hatred to be whipped up in this manner in our country" and promises to table a parliamentary motion to ban Jones tomorrow, while the Hope Not Hate campaign has set up a petition to stop him coming.

I understand the feeling behind this, but it's just too easy a response – and a dangerous one, too. The same kind of sentiment lay behind the outrage when it became clear that Nick Griffin was to appear on Question Time. These opinions are repulsive, disgusting, beyond the pale – let's ban them.

But ban what exactly? You can't ban a viewpoint, at least not from being held in an individual's mind. And if the public, verbal or written expression of that viewpoint contravenes no laws, on what grounds would you curtail it?

I was absolutely for Griffin's right to appear on the Question Time panel, for instance, because he is the leader of a perfectly legal party (one for which over half a million people voted in this year's general election and nearly a million in last year's Euro elections) and an elected MEP. You cannot have one set of rules – still less laws – for "acceptable" parties and another for those we deem "unacceptable".

Griffin, however, is a British citizen, so there is no question of not letting him into the country. What of Pastor Jones? According to today's Observer: "The Home Secretary has the power to exclude or deport an individual if she thinks their presence in the UK could threaten national security, public order or the safety of citizens. She can also do so if she believes their views glorify terrorism, promote violence or encourage other serious crime."

Clearly Jones is not a threat to national security: but endangering "public order" and "the safety of citizens"? I find it rather unsettling that the Home Secretary is expected to justify excluding a citizen of a friendly country by using the kind of vague wording that authoritarian regimes the world over use to stifle free speech. It is clear, too, that this "Man of God" does not explicitly "glorify terrorism" or "promote violence".

We consider him to be distasteful, for sure, uncivilised, uncouth, the possessor of barbaric and ignorant views. But if we value free speech at all, those can never be reasons enough to ban him. David Allen Green recently pointed out on The Staggers for the NS that when the Quran-burning (non-)event became noticed, creating huge anger that could have put Americans abroad in harm's way, "even though it was plausible to contend that Pastor Jones was creating a clear danger to others, he was not arrested. It was the persuasive and not the coercive power of the US government which was deployed to stop the gesture happening." He then asked: "What would happen in the United Kingdom?"

We shall see when Theresa May chooses to act or not. One may well ask, as we are at it, why it is that we are so concerned with restricting people's free speech while the legislation that exists to punish them, should that expression constitute incitement to racial or religious hatred, is so rarely used. Surely that is the wrong way around?

So, say I: let Pastor Jones come to Britain, and if his speech breaks any law, then throw the book at him. Make it clear that such laws truly afford the mighty protection of the state to those they are meant to shield. But if his words do not, then I would ask this:

What has anyone to fear from a man so confused and deluded that, before his Quran-burning stunt, he could seriously declare that its aim was "to send a message to the moderate Muslims to stay peaceful and moderate"?

Sholto Byrnes is a Contributing Editor to the New Statesman
Show Hide image

France’s burkini ban could not come at a worse time

Yet more legislation against veiled women can only further divide an already divided nation.

Since mayor of Cannes David Lisnard banned the full-body burkini from his town’s beaches, as many as 15 French resorts have followed suit. Arguments defending the bans fall into three main categories. First, it is about defending the French state’s secularism (laïcité). Second, that the costume represents a misogynistic doctrine that sees female bodies as shameful. And finally, that the burkini is cited as a threat to public order.

None of these arguments satisfactorily refute the claims of civil rights activists that the bans are fundamentally Islamophobic.

The niceties of laïcité

The Cannes decree explicitly invokes secular values. It prohibits anyone “not dressed in a fashion respectful of laïcité” from accessing public beaches. However, the French state has only banned “ostentatious” religious symbols in schools and for government employees as part of laïcité (the strict separation between the state and religious society). And in public spaces, laïcité claims to respect religious plurality. Indeed, the Laïcité Commission has tweeted that the ban, therefore, “cannot be based upon the principle of laïcité”.

While veils covering the entire face such as the burqa or niqab are illegal, this is not to protect laïcité; it is a security matter. The legal justification is that these clothes make it impossible to identify the person underneath – which is not the case for the burkini.

 

By falling back on laïcité to police Muslim women in this way, the Cannes authorities are fuelling the argument that “fundamentalist secularism” has become a means of excluding Muslims from French society.

Colonial attitudes

Others, such as Laurence Rossignol, the minister for women’s rights, hold that the burkini represents a “profoundly archaic view of a woman’s place in society”, disregarding Muslim women who claim to wear their burkini voluntarily.

This typifies an enduring colonial attitude among many non-Muslim French politicians, who feel entitled to dictate to Muslim women what is in their best interests. Rossignol has in the past compared women who wear headscarves through choice to American “negroes” who supported slavery.

Far from supporting women’s rights, banning the burkini will only leave the women who wear it feeling persecuted. Even those with no choice in the matter are not helped by the ban. This legal measure does nothing to challenge patriarchal authority over female bodies in the home. Instead, it further restricts the lives of veiled women by replacing it with state authority in public.

Open Islamophobia

Supporters of the ban have also claimed that, with racial tensions high after recent terrorist attacks, it is provocative to wear this form of Muslim clothing. Such an argument was made by Pierre-Ange Vivoni, mayor of Sisco in Corsica, when he banned the burkini in his commune. Early reports suggested a violent clash between local residents and non-locals of Moroccan origin was triggered when strangers photographed a burkini-wearing woman in the latter group, which angered her male companions. Vivoni claimed that banning the costume protected the security of local people, including those of North African descent.

Those reports have transpired to be false: none of the women in question were even wearing a burkini at the time of the incident. Nonetheless, the ban has stood in Sisco and elsewhere.

To be “provoked” by the burkini is to be provoked by the visibility of Muslims. Banning it on this basis punishes Muslim women for other people’s prejudice. It also disregards the burkini’s potential to promote social cohesion by giving veiled women access to the same spaces as their non-Muslim compatriots.

Appeals to public order have, occasionally, been openly Islamophobic. Thierry Migoule, head of municipal services in Cannes, claimed that the burkini “refers to an allegiance to terrorist movements”, conveniently ignoring the Muslim victims of recent attacks. Barely a month after Muslims paying their respects to friends and family killed in Nice were racially abused, such comments are both distasteful and irresponsible.

Increased divisions

Feiza Ben Mohammed, spokesperson for the Federation of Southern Muslims, fears that stigmatising Muslims in this way will play into the hands of IS recruiters. That fear seems well-founded: researchers cite a sense of exclusion as a factor behind the radicalisation of a minority of French Muslims. Measures like this can only exacerbate that problem. Indeed, provoking repressive measures against European Muslims to cultivate such a sentiment is part of the IS strategy.

Meanwhile, the day after the incident in Sisco, riot police were needed in nearby Bastia to prevent a 200-strong crowd chanting “this is our home” from entering a neighbourhood with many residents of North African descent. Given the recent warning from France’s head of internal security of the risk of a confrontation between “the extreme right and the Muslim world”, such scenes are equally concerning.

Now more than ever, France needs unity. Yet more legislation against veiled women can only further divide an already divided nation.

The Conversation

Fraser McQueen, PhD Candidate, University of Stirling

This article was originally published on The Conversation. Read the original article.