When Salman Rushdie wrote, he knew full well what he was doing. The knowledge that he displayed — in playing around with the ‘satanic verses’ episode and even in his use of the names of the wives of the Prophet — required some real knowledge of Islam. But it should equally have been clear to him that what he was doing would have been found highly offensive by some Muslims. Clearly, there was much more to the episode than this. There was a strong political element to the attention that his work received, and Muslims could find much other material that would give offence, but which was not singled out for condemnation in this way. Many of his Western readers, however, might have found these aspects of his work unusual, and while — especially if they came across some commentary upon them — they might have been able to understand them, they would surely not have experienced the kind of emotional reaction that some Muslims may have felt.

One obvious problem however, is that now that we are a pluralistic society: in Australia, there are many faiths and sensibilities, and even societies which are relatively homogenous are affected by what is done elsewhere. Just what protections are needed, and what should be protected?

In the face of the Rushdie case, one reaction in the UK was that some Muslims there wished for Rushdie to be had up for blasphemy. They swiftly discovered, however, that in Britain laws against blasphemy related only to the Christian religion — and even, it might appear, to the doctrines of the Church of England. There was, then, a call for the widening of blasphemy law, so that it would apply to other religions. This, however, poses a problem; namely, what should count for this purpose. Think about this in an Australian context: Christianity — in all its forms? Islam — bearing in mind that, for Shiites, the twelfth (occluded) Imam would also require protection? Judaism? Aboriginal beliefs? But what about Jehovah’s Witnesses, the Mormons, and New Agers, to say nothing of Little Pebble?^[32]

There is also a further problem here: namely, just what the content of that which receives such protection will be. It is often — and surely rightly — said that, say, Aboriginal cultures are not static, but evolving. The same, surely, might be the case for what others hold to be Holy. But this poses a problem: if what is so recognised acquires special protected status, it can surely become the subject of politics. In an early episode in the Garfield cartoon series, Garfield, a fat striped cat, was made to say something like: ‘One good thing about being a cat is, any food you touch, becomes yours.’ The Holy, or what plays a key role in your culture such that it demands protection, might equally become the vehicle for a not dissimilar kind of acquisitive opportunism.

In addition, as I noted earlier, one feature of religious pluralism is that the key tenets of many religions commit their devotees to denying the claims of the devotees of other religions. It is just not clear that there can be respect and mutual tolerance, if you take the claim to the truth of your own beliefs seriously, and it is integral to your own views that the other people have got things terribly wrong.

Finally, here, although I can address this question only very briefly, there is an interesting problem concerning whether, with regard to these matters, there is an area between the private and the public.^[33] I earlier referred to one line of argument in Foote, in which he argued that the cartoons in the Freethinker were produced for an audience of secularists, and that this should have been clear from the character of the publication. It is possible that the same might be argued, in respect of the Gay News blasphemous libel case. Here, a short poem by James Kirkup, depicted a Roman centurion expressing his love for Jesus, by means of various forms of sexual activity conducted with his just-dead body.^[34] It would seem as if the poem was intended to express a genuine devotion, but its public meaning was highly offensive, and Mrs Mary Whitehouse, of the British National Viewers and Listeners Association — a crusader for morality — brought a private prosecution against it for blasphemous libel, which was successful.^[35] One might ask, however: but should not the fact that it appeared in Gay News indicate that it was produced for, as it were, a niche market, such that those who might find this offensive would understand that it was not for them? But in this particular case, the reaction of their own readers, and that of those working on the paper towards the poem, suggested that this defence might not be open to them,^[36] even if it could be defended in a wider context.

Where does all this leave us? I am initially inclined to say that, in a pluralistic setting, there is good reason for ditching the crime of blasphemy. At the same time, there is surely a case for prohibiting by law offensive behaviour that is liable to provoke a breach of the peace. At another level, it would seem to me that it is reasonable to regard as morally offensive the production of things that would deeply offend harmless people: consider, again, the deliberate violation of things that Aboriginal people hold as sacred, but now generalise this to the core concerns of others. At the very least, this should mean that we don’t fete work which gives such offence, or express solidarity with it if it is criticised. This does not mean that we should silently acquiesce to calls for the death or imprisonment of those who produce it.

I said, above, that I am inclined to offer that response. But there are problems about it, not least this question of what, and to what extent, things get protection, and who gets to decide. It is surely only core concerns that should receive such protection. But who gets to decide what people’s core concerns are? And does the protection that might be accorded to the core concerns of major religions, really extend to, say, the fantasies of some group of ratbags who thinks that aliens have kidnapped them a space ship, and then returned them to Earth with remarkable news for mankind?

I am left unsure about what we should do concerning these matters. One might say: be respectful of work that has a public meaning as sacred, in the cultures within which our work is produced and in which we would expect it to be disseminated. And over and above this, be mindful of the sensibilities of the vulnerable. But such a response is clearly inadequate, and I am happy to leave this problem to others, to see what they make of it.

Andres Serrano, when his Piss Christ was attacked, commented that he thought that its destruction was an act of ‘desecration’.^[37] Clearly, I might be tempted to take any criticism of my paper in similar terms — if I were not, in these matters, influenced by Karl Popper, who stressed fallibilism and the importance of holding everything open to criticism, and who argued that it is good for us, even if we don’t enjoy it.