Feeling offended? Fight it with words
Commentator on current affairs. She works in geopolitics, aid and development, and governance.
Ihate name-droppers. Anyway, in the 1990s, writer Salman Rushdie came to New Zealand and had dinner with my mum and other local writers, including my then stepfather Maurice Shadbolt. They were told to arrive at a restaurant to meet an unnamed guest, and tell no-one.
Life for the author of The Satanic Verses was one spent in hiding after the fatwa of the Ayatollah of Iran calling on Muslims to kill him, along with all those ‘‘involved in the publication’’ of the novel.
Last weekend, Rushdie’s luck outrunning the 40-year fatwa ended. He is at least alive. His Japanese publisher, Professor Hitoshi Igarashi, was slaughtered in 1991. His Norwegian publisher, William Nygaard, was shot and left for dead, but survived. He called Rushdie from his hospital bed: ‘‘I just want you to know that I am very proud to be the publisher of The Satanic Verses.’’
Not everyone was as courageous. Some of the establishment paraded their schadenfreude because Rushdie, Indian-born, had denounced British imperialism. Journalist Charles Moore captured the mood: Rushdie, ‘‘used to attacking whitey with impunity’’, was ‘‘suddenly seeking whitey’s help’’.
Author Roald Dahl wrote to The Times saying Rushdie ‘‘must have been totally aware of the deep and violent feelings his book would stir up among devout Muslims’’. He wrote that we all ‘‘have a moral obligation to apply a modicum of censorship to our own work in order to reinforce this principle of free speech’’.
Thriller writer John le Carre´ had a more subtle but no less objectionable position: that those who write literature are impertinent to believe they have some special claim to free speech. ‘‘Are we to believe that those who write literature have a greater right to free speech than those who write pulp?’’
Notice how ‘‘I oppose the violence, but . . .’’ slides into excuses for the violence.
The common principle of Rushdie’s critics is that if you offend someone’s beliefs then you are at least partly in the wrong, and so threats are somewhat excused. Giving offence justifies violence.
It is monstrous position. Words are not violence. Violence is violence.
If you give offence you are not protected from criticism. Stupid and offensive comments are words. They should be debated, ridiculed, disproven – with words. You should not be murdered, locked up, sanctioned, or threatened.
Hold the violent to account for their violence. Do not make excuses. Do not give comfort to their motive. Give comfort to the enemies of violence.
Being prepared to offend is how we progress. You cannot tell people the Earth orbits the Sun when centuries of status and identity depend on forcing everyone to agree that the Sun goes around Earth. Usually, offensive views are simply offensive. But sometimes, occasionally, they are Galileo.
How are you going to tell truthtellers from the bad mannered? Who is going to make the call about which is which? Ayatollahs? A panel of expert judges appointed by the government and clergy of the day?
You may be thinking: it’s easy to identity hateful Nazis and racists, so just ban that. In 1938, Hitler’s Mein Kampf had been banned in many countries. In the US, a group of German exiled students painstakingly translated it into English, footnotes and all, in a desperate attempt to get people to understand Hitler’s plans for genocide. If only people had read it and understood in 1938.
If only our secret services had understood the threat of white supremacists before March 15, 2019.
Putting up with vile, nasty, dehumanising words is the price of our freedom and safety, of being adults able to detect truth and falsehood for ourselves, and of not being subjected to lies and suppression.
Author JK Rowling tweeted her support for Rushdie this week. She was told, ‘‘You’re next’’. You don’t have to agree with Rowling’s views to condemn the threat without using the word ‘‘but’’.
Fear of giving offence is causing her to be cancelled. It causes columnists like me to pause before defending her right to have her say.
Fear of violence and fear of offence might prevent The Satanic Verses being published today. Cancelled, it would avoid offending anyone. We would be deprived of the right to decide the book’s merits for ourselves. But fear is the point of terrorism. So decide not to be afraid.
After the fatwa, writers Susan Sontag, Norman Mailer and 700 others signed a statement of solidarity: ‘‘We too have been ‘involved in the publication’ of The Satanic Verses.’’
I admire even more the courageous booksellers and their minimum wage staff in street-level shops, with no security, who kept selling the book. Not to do so is to empower extremists and terrorists to continue. We all, still, must stand with Rushdie.