This evening I received an email from a Muslim friend warning me about a new computer virus called “The Olympic Torch”. The email said it was crucial I let everyone know about this, to prevent anything untoward happening. I didn’t forward it however; ever the cynic, I went straight to website of Symantec Coporation, the anti-virus specialists, and typed the word “Hoax” into the search field. What was the first thing that came up? Yes, you guessed it: The Olympic Torch Hoax.
Symantec Security Response encourages you to ignore any messages regarding this hoax. It is harmless and is intended only to cause unwarranted concern.
The Olympic Torch Hoax is being spread through email. It has been reported that the following text of the hoax may differ slightly in the various messages going around. The email warns of a virus that burns the whole hard disk drive a computer. This virus does not exist.
I find it incredible that Muslims, of all people, are so easily led. We belong to the ummah which gave the world the science of isnad, after all. The preservation of our religion has relied on the solid foundations of verification. And yet today we are so easily enraged by unverified reports in emails from people we don’t even know. What has become of us? It happens all the time – right the way from the pig’s head cartoon circulating in Palestine alleged to be one of the Danish cartoons to the more mundane virus alerts we receive weekly – and it makes me sad.
Perhaps we need to reflect on our heritage more. Here M.A. Anees and A.N. Athar* give us an idea of how far short we are falling today compared to those who passed before us:
Looking at the elaborate methodology that evolved through Ulum al-Hadith, including rules for transmission, textual criticism, chronological authenticity, papyri, and similar criteria for validation, Ulum al-Hadith offers a unique example of information management. It is the only branch of knowledge that requires personal ethical responsibility on the part of individuals who involve themselves in this endeavour. In its quest for exactitude, it held accountable those who transmitted information. It offered a methodological balance by not invoking wholesale rejection of transmitted matrial but designating it in a graded fashion depending on the external and internal validation. Judged from this criterion, Ulum al-Hadith presents a pioneering example in critical historiography.
* Anees, M.A. and Athar, A.N. (1986) Guide to Sira and Hadith Literature in Western Languages (London: Mansell Publishing Limited)
On my way back to work after a Doctor’s appointment this morning, I happened to tune my radio into BBC London. This was a journey of about ten minutes, so I didn’t catch much; the famous Vanessa Feltz (whatever happened to Jon Gaunt?) was asking listeners to phone in with their opinion on Creationism and Prince Charles’ dissenting role in politics. I heard two callers; the first was a fundamentalist evolutionist, who derided all followers of all religions whilst making his point that evolution is an indisputable fact. The other caller I heard was a Muslim who rang in to talk about Creationism, but was asked for his opinion on Prince Charles instead, only to be cut off abruptly once onto his topic of choice because there was no time before the 11 O’clock news.
For some reason, Vanessa and her studio crew were all stary-eyed about the first caller. She said his was an excellent call, but it wasn’t really. It was just a rant. A creationist had clearly asked earlier in the programme about the processes of evolution. So the first caller I heard explained that there are plenty of precdents; for example coal, and diamonds.
Now forgive me, but am I missing something? Coal is merely the altered remains of prehistoric vegetation that originally accumulated in swamps. Subjected to tectonic forces, these swamps were gradually buried over a period of around 200 million years, transforming the vegetaion first into peat and then into coal. Diamonds, too, are formed as a result of tectonic forces at least 100 km below the surface and at temperatures over 900 decrees centigrade. Complex processes indeed, but not exactly illustrative.
Why didn’t he tackle some more contentious topics, like the formation of amino acids? I admit that scientists have been doing a huge amout of work in these spheres, but it is still true to say that joining the dots requires as much faith at that required by the religious. There are huge numbers of questions. The concept of an organic soup in which amino acids were polymerized billions of years ago requires immense faith alone; how we got to where we are today adds infinite levels of complexity.
I wish some of these fundamentalist evolutionists would reflect on the scientific foundations laid before us by the religious scholars of our dark ages; the contribution of Jewish and Muslim scholars is well documented already. Perhaps if that Muslim caller had been able to make his point instead of focusing on Prince Charles just before the news, he might have mentioned that famous verse from the Qur’an, “And the Heavens and the Earth were a mass all sewn up…”
It isn’t actually difficult to appreciate how radicalisation occurs. Last night I had the misfortune of deciding to watch the previous evening’s edition of Newsnight on the web and was thus bombarded with the disgusting images emerging from Abu Ghraib I had so far managed to avoid. In my case I found that the sense of frustration and powerlessness in the face of such inhumanity heightened my emotions so that in my mind I began to mull over how we should respond. Some of those ideas surprised me.
When my wife asked me to supplicate to our Lord after Isha on behalf of the victims, I was lost for words. I didn’t know what to pray. My wife told me that prayer is the weapon of believers, but the sense of despair blanked my mind. And I suppose this must be quite a common complaint amongst those of us who lack real knowledge. Against a backdrop of that sense of futility and despair, an action normally considered extreme might start to settle in the mind as the only viable alternative to doing nothing.
I believe I live a fairly sheltered existence given my deliberate abstention from television. I know the power of the moving image well as it grips you, etching itself on the mind. Having seen those images last night and checked my own reaction, it is not difficult to imagine the likely affect on a young man in a Muslim country constantly exposed to the drip-drip of brutality represented on his own TV channels. As for those who experience it first hand, I wonder how they could not react in the manner we all condemn; only those with the greatest faith could surely withstand the abuse perpetuated against them and their people.
Isn’t that sad; the voice said to exude sanity in a world of depravity has turned a corner. We really should fear where this new world order is leading us.
I have never been a good Believer, neither as a Christian before those five years of agnosticism nor as a Muslim ever since. My faith has never been zealous; when I said I didn’t believe in God for a year or so around the age of fifteen even my atheism was agnostic. Nevertheless, however simple my faith may be, I do tend to take words seriously. I waver and slip often, sometimes steaming off as if towards oblivion, but those short Semitic sayings always call me back before long.
My literal interpretation of Gospel advice to turn the other cheek meant that I would never stand up for myself if I was picked on at school—it was a revelation for me when my mother asked me why not in my final year of junior school. We were brought up on the good book, attending church and Sunday School throughout childhood. The earliest of those snippet teachings remain with me, so still I censure friends who “take the Lord’s name in vane”. I suppose it is this simple, literal faith of mine which leaves me so disappointed with the world we live in; we—believers of all faiths—are taught one thing, but then told to do something else according to the circumstances in which we find ourselves.
I am not under any illusions about the conflicts defining modern-day Britain—the most vocal voices define us as a secular nation, while traditionalists maintain this is a Christian land—but one can still dream that something of our religious heritage might shine through and colour the way we treat one another. Just imagine what public life would be like if it were defined by the citizen’s faith rather than a bizarre Machiavellian worldview. How would all this public calling-Muslims-to-account look in the light of words their saviour is said to have uttered?
“How can you say to your brother, ‘Brother, let me remove the speck that is in your eye,’ when you yourself do not see the plank that is in your own eye? Hypocrite! First remove the plank from your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck that is in your brother’s eye.”
There is no denying that we Muslims are falling far short of our ideals in our personal and political relationships. But it is gross hypocrisy for British politicians and the Press to demand that we get our house in order whilst they themselves are falling short as well. Who are we? A tiny minority making up 2.7% of the population; a disparate group made up of many ethnicities and following numerous interpretations of Islam.
I don’t usually comment on political affairs, but I have been reading about Camp Xray, Abu Ghraib and the cost of the war in Iraq recently. Indeed I have been reflecting on European intervention in the colonised world in general. The legacy remains despite independence. It is in no way reassuring—just very sad indeed—but it is still true to say that we Muslims are not alone in needing to get our house in order. The trouble is all of us seem to have planks in our eyes. None of us can see.
I was intending to post something about the water shortage we are currently facing in England. Despite the rain of the past few days, water supplies remain desperately low. So some measure of personal responsibility is required on our part. Perhaps mosque committees would be wise to encourage us to do wudu (ablution) without the tap turned on full. In any case, it’s just good practice that we think about the water we use.
Anyway, I say “I was intending to”, because more pressing news of a drought in the Horn of Africa is now reaching us fast, at last. Some will recall my conclusion in the piece “Making caricatures of us all” on 2 February:
“Meanwhile East Africa is currently suffering from a severe drought, which is threatening to put up to 2.5 million people in Kenya alone at the risk of famine. It might be time to shift our attention in that direction and come up with a positive outcome instead.”
And so we should. Aid agencies are saying that the Horn of Africa is on the brink of a major humanitarian crisis caused by the drought of the past three years. According to the United Nations, more than seventeen million people in Ethiopia, Somalia, Kenya, Eritrea, Tanzania and Burundi will need food assistance for the next six months. This drought may be the worst in a decade with land for grazing and cereal production decimated, and acute shortages of food and water.
Do what you can. To find out how to make a charitable donation see:
The last time I wrote about drought in East Africa was 12 August 1997: The E-Mail, the phonecall and the hydroelectric dam
Were we unable to sin, would we appreciate God’s mercy? Of course, His mercy surrounds us; our hearts which beat without us giving thought, the rain which falls from the sky giving life to dead earth, the air which expands our breasts. But I wonder. Were it not for our ability to sin and err, and return to Him in repentance, would we truly understand the blessings he bestows on us? I wonder.
An important lesson has been learned as a result of this fracas (and forgive me, but this is “The Journey of a Self-Centred Soul”) — it reveals the fragility of faith. Those words of the Prophet, peace be upon him, that before the Hour holding onto one’s religion would be like holding onto burning hot coals ring true. I have long been tolerant of our imams who insist on delivering their sermons in languages other than English (in England), but I am beginning to appreciate the fruits of this tolerance. Incomprehension does not only cut us off from our community, but more importantly from learning. My local mosque, to its credit, is beginning to address this oversight; a compromise has been reached so that the sermon will be in English every other week. Teaching classes are also being organised for the evenings, though exactly when these will start I’m not sure. When they do, I shall be the first to take them up. All around us the world is maddening and the noise bombards the senses; I realise how much I have to learn. How much I have to learn from the life of our blessed Prophet. How much I need to have the Qur’an explained to me. How much I have to connect with history. These are the days in which so much is being said about Islam; indeed, everyone has something to say. Confusion is rife. If anything good can come from this whole, unpleasant event, it is that we recognise what each of us have to do now as individuals. I have learnt a lot about myself from what at first seemed like a global situation. As the state of human relations worsen — as they are sure to — I recognise that our only protection lies in our relationship with God.
Sorry, don’t mean to be rude, but please, everyone, just shut up. The Book of James in the New Testament – Luther’s Epistle of Straw – always used to appeal to me during those agnostic days. Some words stay with me even now.
…think of a ship: large though it may be and driven by gales, it can be steered by a very small rudder on whatever course the helmsman chooses. So with the tongue; it is small, but its pretensions are great … What a vast amount of timber can be set ablaze by the tiniest spark!
We are such opinionated beasts. Mankind I mean. May both my tongue which speaks and my typing fingers know their limits. And may God forgive me and all of us. We have gone too far already.
As everyone knows, by and large I live under a rock. So I did not appreciate the depravity of the “protests” until my arrival at work this morning when I had my daily roundup of the news on BBC Online. The first image shows what appears to be a white woman in Niqab holding a placard with the words “be prepared for the real holocaust” written across it. Further down the page there is another picture with three more placards displayed, all penned by the same hand. I am almost lost for words. I tighten my lips lest I vomit and hold my eyes lest tears emerge.
We have had our say about the cartoons; now let us have our say about these men and women who have defamed our religion and our Prophet by extension, may God’s peace and blessings be upon him. We must speak up and condemn them, just as those who printed the caricatures were. Our blessed Prophet, peace be upon him, told us: “Islam is good character”. Well look at us!
Of course there are those doubts: who called in rent-a-mob? The compassionate souls involved in the Drop The Debt Campaign and Live8 had to contend with their share of anarchist provocateurs; people who don’t believe in the cause, but do like a good fight. I was once going to Jummah prayer at Regents Park Mosque when journalists were milling about outside. As I hurried along Hanover Gate, I passed someone I assumed to be a journalist going the other way, his ear stuck to his mobile phone. I have often wondered about the snippet of conversation I overheard. It may have been innocent, but still I have doubts. Some people were due to arrive after the prayer and then they would get some good pictures. Perhaps it was just his sound crew; perhaps it was just a camera man. But when I came back out of the mosque after the prayer to the sight of hysterical offensive screaming from a group of men standing on the flowerbed, the TV cameras fixed on them, I had to have my doubts. Even so, even if these people are saboteurs — though sadly it’s quite possible they’re not — it is imperative that we condemn them with as much rigour as that the Danish newspapers were subjected to.
The questions asked by politicians are valid; why did the Police not arrest those individuals who shouted these obscenities and those who carried those words? We should be asking the same questions. We have laws that prohibit incitement to murder and incitement to racial hatred. Arrest them. The situation has become so stupid; having insisted so vehemently that there can be no limits to freedom of speech in Western democracies, we now have a situation where these events were simply allowed to come to pass. Clearly this case actually shows that there can and should be limits to freedom of speech, if only the secular extremists would reflect. As for us Muslims, I hope I never now hear anyone justify those actions. We cannot have it both ways.
As I have pointed out before, in the Islamic worldview a word is an act. Thus to slander someone, backbite or lie are considered reprehensible sins. As said our blessed Prophet: “He who truly believes in God and the Last Day should speak good or keep silent.” This should be our guiding light. Those who wanted to march, protest and picket should find out where those people live and take their protest to them. If you marched to protect the Prophet from the slander of the artists, march now to protect him from the defamation of that crowd. If we do not, our hypocrisy will be telling. We are a community commanded to stand up for truth and justice, but I fear we are becoming something else.
When I began writing several hours ago, having just turned off the Six O’Clock News in my car, I was pretty angry. I was foaming about the way Muslims have to react so stupidly every time a red flag is waved in front of us. Just after I became Muslim seven and a half years ago, another convert told me that the action we had taken was a bit like jumping on board a sinking ship. Days like this remind me of his analogy. But I’ve had dinner now and I’ve surfed a few blogs and suddenly noticed that it’s actually very hard to find Muslims saying anything stupid. All I see are the silent images on the BBC.
The cartoons in question were first published four months ago in Denmark, apparently to test the boundaries of freedom of expression. Perhaps Denmark had already established these boundaries when it’s Supreme Court ruled that a supermarket chain had the right to sack a young Muslim woman for wearing a headscarf to work. Of course, we can’t say this; it’s changing the subject. No, the newspaper in question, Jyllands Posten, consulted the Danish theologian Professor Tim Jensen before publishing the cartoons, according to Zaman Online. He responded with the advice that the cartoons should not be published, pointing out that “It will offend Muslims and only cause pointless provocation.” So the newspaper went ahead and published them anyway.
On 20 October 2005, the BBC reported that ambassadors of ten Muslim countries had complained to the Danish prime minister about the newspaper’s cartoons. Then the story disappeared for three months, only to reappear when Arla Foods announced it would have one hundred redundancies after its sales in the Middle East fell to zero. In this bizarre twist to the usual sanctions regime, Danish companies were pleading for a food-for-oil programme. Thus the EU Trade Commissioner, Peter Mandelson, chipped in to criticise the papers that re-ran the cartoons. Why did they re-run the cartoons? Did they, too, need to establish the boundaries? Were they still in doubt? Of course not. Nothing stirs fame like controversy. So away they wave with the red flag.
All day, the BBC has been stirring the story. The Today programme on Radio 4, then the World at One and PM. On the One O’Clock News on BBC1 TV, Darren Jordan introduced the package in sombre mood, we listened as the reporter told us that another clash of cultures, like that seen with the Satanic Verses, “was developing fast”, then Darren turned to the other camera with a smile and told us how to contribute to the debate online. While the sales of Lurpak continued to plummet, a self-righteous media began to fight back, chanting death to the enemies who have no respect for pointless provocation. Calls to boycott Middle Eastern goods quickly faded, however, when it was realised that the only Middle Eastern goods available were oil and stale baklava.
Apparently there has been a massive wave of protest across the Middle East. One involved a group of men pouring lighter fluid over a Danish flag which appeared to be made of tissue paper before setting it alight. In another scene, men whose convictions were so strong that they had to hide their faces beneath scarves surrounded the EU offices in Gaza and fired bullets into the air, gaining prime time airing on the Six O’Clock News and BBC Online. But rolling into Luton, the BBC filmed men walking out of a mosque looking scarily unperturbed. Even the non-Muslim asked for his opinion on the street seemed oblivious to the media frenzy unveiling around him. Unprepared, he stuttered something about nothing and shrugged his shoulders.
Personally I believe there must be better ways to honour our blessed Prophet, peace be upon him, than to violently demand a non-Muslim newspaper observes Islamic principles of not depicting the Prophets. Islam has always prohibited this because it wanted to prevent its followers from taking them as objects of worship down the line. That’s not unreasonable, if you think of the way Iconography has been used in the Catholic and Orthodox traditions of Christianity. But would we not be better off honouring Muhammed, peace be upon him, by living as he lived, trying to curb our anger and observing patience? But then again, that seems to be what Muslims are saying on the blogs I’ve read. Only time will tell, of course; tomorrow’s Jummah and we’ll see if we have a ritual bonfire of tubs of Lurpak in the car park. We’ll see.
On the other hand, the BBC was making much of the democratic right to cause offence in the civilised countries of Western Europe today. Unlike those ignorant, backward Muslims over there with their quaint ways and failure to appreciate satire, Denmark is a land of enlightened souls doing nothing but exploring their boundaries. Yes indeed, Denmark is such a pleasant civilised land that a radio station in Copenhagen had to have its broadcasting licence taken away in August last year after calling for the extermination of Muslims. Whilst exploring the boundaries of freedom of expression, Kaj Wilhelmsen told listeners to Radio Holger: “There are only two possible reactions if you want to stop this bomb terrorism – either you expel all Muslims from Western Europe so they cannot plant bombs, or you exterminate the fanatical Muslims which would mean killing a substantial part of Muslim immigrants.” As Queen Margrethe of Denmark is quoted as saying in her autobiography, it is time to take the challenge of Islam seriously: “We have let this issue float around for too long, because we are tolerant and rather lazy.” You see: we in the civilized West are much too tolerant to behave like those flag-made-of-tissue-burning, sanction-wielding brutes over there.
Sorry if I speak out of turn, but the whole extravaganza reeks of hypocrisy – on all sides.
Meanwhile East Africa is currently suffering from a severe drought, which is threatening to put up to 2.5 million people in Kenya alone at the risk of famine. It might be time to shift our attention in that direction and come up with a positive outcome instead.
A Quotation:
“Still a prey to uncertainty, one day I decided to leave Baghdad and to give up everything; the next day I gave up my resolution. I advanced one step and immediately relapsed. In the morning I was sincerely resolved only to occupy myself with the future life; in the evening a crowd of carnal thoughts assailed and dispersed my resolutions. On the one side the world kept me bound to my post in the chains of covetousness, on the other side the voice of religion cried to me, “Up! Up! Thy life is nearing its end, and thou hast a long journey to make. All thy pretended knowledge is naught but falsehood and fantasy. If thou dost not think now of thy salvation, when wilt thou think of it? If thou dost not break thy chains today, when wilt thou break them?” Then my resolve was strengthened, I wished to give up all and fee; but the Tempter, returning to the attack, said, “You are suffering from a transitory feeling; don’t give way to it, for it will soon pass. If you obey it, if you give up this fine position, this honorable post exempt from trouble and rivalry, this seat of authority safe from attack, you will regret it later on without being able to recover it.”
So said Al-Ghazali
We have this plant in our front garden. It has flowers somewhat like those of the Fusia, but glossy leaves and woody stems like a gooseberry bush. Does anyone know what it is?
At the bottom of our back garden we have another unusual plant. It seems to have two sets of flowers. First come the bunches of tiny bell-like white flowers, but they are followed by large red flourishes. What is this plant?
In the front garden around the pond we have some really lush vegetation. This is a good old English cowslip:
And finally, the Camelia bush in full flower at the top of the path in front of our house.
The beauty of Allah’s grand creation never ceases to delight me.
I have just read news on the BBC that three Indonesian Christian girls were beheaded as they walked to school – news buried under the frenzy surrounding David Blunket’s business dealings. What an utterly sick age we live in. Even as we anticipate it in our Prophet’s words, the depravity never fails to appall.
The Prophet, peace be upon him, said, “Just before the Hour, there will be days in which knowledge will disappear and ignorance will appear, and there will be much killing.”
May we all be protected from such evil people, who will slaughter innocents in this way. Vile. Vile. Vile.
There is something wrong with me at the moment. I don’t know what it is, but my emotions are heightened, I am on edge, easily upset and completely inconsistent. I have been like this for two months now, swinging between the strangest misery and confused folly. The misery reveals itself in the tears that well up for no apparent reason from the tiniest seed. The folly in the quick humour which rises rapidly and then dies.
I seem to be dissatisfied with myself. My heart aches, feeling heavy in my chest. On my return from Turkey I quizzed myself about my unhappiness and decided that I could change it by returning to the Smythian keyboard and reignite my “Copious Footnotes”. This lasted barely two weeks. It was followed by a yearning to start a cottage-industry publishing house. I don’t know if this will lead anywhere. Then there was the “Blogistan” project, to which I contributed five articles before hurriedly retracting four of them again, turning my back on the site because of the melancholy which overcomes me. It is all ups and downs, backwards and forwards, proposals and withdrawals.
At work I want to be a writer, then a graphic designer, next an IT trainer, then a communications officer; and now, just as I’m offered an interview for the latter, I’m resigned once more to my role. Perhaps tomorrow will bring a better day; maybe it will be good for me down the line. Perhaps it is not so bad.
Verily mankind is ungrateful. My first job after university was very comfortable. I earned a better salary then that I ever have since. It was located on a country estate outside Maidenhead, in converted stables between a lovely walled garden and a grand mansion with manicured grounds. The Chairman liked his fast cars but he was generous to us, keeping the fridge stocked up every week to provide his staff with free lunch. For some reason, though, I was dissatisfied. Dissatisfied despite a great wage for the simplest of graphic design work.
When the company downsized after the slump in the market following the attacks on the United States in September 2001 and I was out of a job, I started up my own business offering publishing services. This was a situation where I was in the position to do what I most love: creating beautiful books. Alas I was dissatisfied once more, even though I was given the opportunity to typeset challenging works such as “The History of the Qur’anic Text”. There had to be something better, I told myself, and so I moved onto new ground. I ended up as Office Manager in a busy training department. I was responsible for a team of administrators, got to produce newsletters and a directory of courses, develop the intranet and do many interesting things. Yet again I became dissatisfied and so the cycle started again.
What is it that drives me over the edge again and again? Why is it that I am never satisfied with what I have? Is my situation not better than the poor soul who sets up his table on a bridge over the Bosporus every evening in Istanbul to sell ice cold, bright yellow lemonade to hot and tired commuters? Indeed, is my situation not better than those dry, scorching days I spent administering an internet café in the summer of 2003, with the fumes of traffic numbing my brain? Or the days spent serving prickly Thai and unsophisticated Lebanese cuisine to three hundred customers over lunchtime off Berkley Square?
Perhaps it is pride. “I have an Masters Degree, you know?” Pride, which makes me think that the job I am doing is never good enough. “I don’t need a Degree to do this job, do I?” Pride which gets in the way of an honest day’s work, making it seem worthless and you worthless as a result. I think it is. I think I am stumbling away from a path I once knew when I was younger and more devoted to treating a lump of flesh beneath my ribs.
One of the first books I was given to read when I became Muslim in 1998 was “The Purification of the Soul”. I think it is time that I returned to this work and others like it, recognising what it is that is creating this unease. My soul has been neglected as the smog and noise of a violent and political world obscure the reality of faith.
Oh my Lord, put comfort back into my heart and do not let me die other than one who has earned Your pleasure. Take away this heaviness and ache in my chest and replace it with lightness and appreciation of the sweetness of all of Your blessings. Oh my Lord, let me return to You with a good heart. Amin.
Last night, at the age of 92, Rosa Parks died peacefully in her sleep. Refusing to give up her seat to a white man on a bus in 1955, she unwittingly initiated the US civil rights movement. Following her arrest for this ‘crime’, Baptist minister Martin Luther King organised a mass black boycott of buses lasting over a year that prompted a change to the laws of segregation.
What would either of them think of the state of race relations in some parts of Britain today? The Independent reported yesterday that the conflict in Birmingham this weekend was sparked by rumours that a gang of Asians had gang raped a 14 year old Jamaican girl; those accused believe the claim was made to damage the business of an Asian shopkeeper selling Afro-Carribean beauty products, a pirate radio station already calling for a boycott of Asian businesses. “This is racial harmony in Britain today,” complained one shop keeper, “where a rumour of a crime leads to a mob who trash your business and want to smash your face in because of your colour.”
Yasmin Alibhai-Brown wrote in the same newspaper yesterday that racism is getting worse. She believes that it is no longer possible to talk of racism, because racists have now been emboldened to claim victimisation whenever the accusation of racism is filed against them. It was only a matter of time — publishers have been using ‘ethnic’ authors for years to publish what would ordinarily be considered racist were it authored by a white person. Alibhai-Brown reports how Joan Rivers told Darcus Howe that she was bored with his obsession with blackness on last Wednesday’s Midweek on Radio 4, while he sugessted that she was racially prejudiced. This was a small encapsulation of a wider problem in society today, argued Alibhai-Brown.
Meanwhile Joan Smith is foaming about the religious hatred Bill in The Independent today. With this Bill we are at risk of creating a climate of ever-greater intolerance. “So dreadful is this proposed piece of legislation that people who rarely agree on anything are united in opposition to a law that will curb free speech,” she writes. She believes that if made law it will only embolden religious extremists to launch assaults on members of other faiths and secularists. Perhaps, for once, Alibhai-Brown was onto something:
“We talk incessantly about multiculturalism, faith battles, Islamophobia, integration, assimilation, segregation, immigration, terrorism, the British identity, inner-city problems and ethnic tensions, but not race — even though it colours every one of the above.”
