I am sure that every day I commit acts deemed blasphemous in any given religion. The simple fact that I do not believe in God or the Devil, heaven or hell (and am not exactly silent about it) makes me guilty of the ultimate sin. In a stroke of luck I was born in a country (Finland) where nobody thought that my coming to the conclusion that there is no celestial father called for jail time, or some form of a "re-education camp". I am also lucky to now live in another country (Britain) where writing articles of this kind will not lead to floggings, capital punishment or hunting down my family and loved ones.
Others are not so fortunate. A look at recent blasphemy cases around the world tells us that not only is expressing opinions like mine widely outlawed and dangerous, but that people also face punishment or imprisonment for accidentally, or even just allegedly, committing blasphemous acts. And these people are often those in an already weak position: children, women, disabled, ethnic and religious minorities. And because of blasphemy laws all of this entirely legal. It is the law to protect the feelings of the religious.
Historically, blasphemy laws made a kind of sense. The background was a genuine belief in an active and interested God. An act of blasphemy was a direct offence to this god, who, if angered might take revenge on the whole community, not just the offending individual. (This type of thinking obviously still emerges whenever televangelists blame gay-enablers for tornadoes, or Imams point to women’s breasts as the cause of earthquakes). Secondly, fervent belief aside, religion was commonly intertwined with every state institution, and so enforcing uniform belief meant a more unified nation. Sovereigns blessed by the one and only almighty, heavenly inspired judicial decisions and god-given land rights helped to build cohesive (and controllable) communities. Blasphemy was differing from the mainstream: heretical thoughts and acts that threatened a peaceful society and the power of the authorities. Forced conversions were a common way to fight heresy, but so were torture and executions. Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition after all.
Today, blasphemy laws have been disestablished in many countries that might have held them dear for hundreds of years. Most secular countries have abolished them completely, or reformed them into laws governing hate-speech or defamation of religion in general. Even if a country has a law that could be used to prosecute blasphemers, it seems that more often than not the principles of freedom of speech and expression are thought to be more important. Out of the 45 European countries, only 8 have laws criminalising blasphemy and of these The Netherlands and Ireland are set to reform their laws in the near future.
Less secular countries are a different matter. In the Middle East and North Africa 13 of the 20 countries in the region have extensive and actively used blasphemy laws. In 11 of these countries apostasy remains illegal. Currently, blasphemy laws are also found in several Asian nations, as well as in some African countries. In Europe, countries with a conservative government still implement historical blasphemy laws, or allow generalised defamation laws to fall into the hands of the main religion, as in Poland where the Catholic Church easily sets limits to “offensive” music and art. It should also be noted that the lack of a blasphemy law in the penal code does not necessarily equate to free speech existent: in more religious societies, such as Tunisia, punitive “hate speech” or “public decency” statutes can operate as de facto blasphemy laws.
But what exactly is wrong in criminalising blasphemy? Shouldn’t people’s sacred feelings be protected from malicious offence? This seems to be the stance of, among others, the Organisation of Islamic Co-operation who petitioned the United Nations for an international defamation of religion law, following the controversy and violence around the “Innocence of Muslims” film in September 2012. Such offensive blasphemous acts are said to increase intolerance and islamophobia, so why not set limits to what you can say about others’ beliefs?
But there are several problems with attempting to legally ban hurting people’s feelings (other than it sounding slightly silly). Any criminalisation of blasphemy – or even general defamation – tends to be extremely vague. Commonly the laws refer to “offending religious feelings” or “insulting the church/prophet/religion”: wording that leaves open exactly what counts as an offence. In their clearest form, some countries legislate against “desecrating religious objects or buildings”, but whether this means painting graffiti on your local church’s walls or forgetting to remove your shoes before entering a mosque is up to the authorities to decide. And herein lies the biggest problem.
Vague laws allow for misuse of power, arbitrary persecutions and oppression of opposition. Especially when religion is involved, zealous feelings easily take precedence over basic human rights for freedom of speech and expression. And if the religion in question is tied up with the state, misuse of the law in the service of social control if both tempting and inevitable. Take Russia, where the relationship between the traditional Orthodox Church and the Kremlin has grown ever closer. The Duma recently passed a newly-tightened blasphemy law, which explicitly bans “desecration of places of worship” that are a part of “historical heritage of the peoples of Russia”. One does not need to be overly cynical to see the connection between the Kremlin’s worries over the protection of heritage sites, and their desire to silence dissent like that expressed in Pussy Riot’s anti-Putin "Punk Prayer". Putin is known for harsh treatment of critics, and in this case protecting the feelings of the religious easily translates into protecting the feelings of the President.
While not necessarily every state that has blasphemy laws on the books abuses them in this way, the mere presence of such laws, especially where religion is strong, makes arbitrary prosecution of anyone the state or religious authorities do not like both feasible and likely. In Malta, an EU country, hundreds of people are charged with blasphemy every year. The overwhelming influence of the Catholic Church at all levels of life means that police and judicial time, not to mention tax payers' money, is spent on bringing dangerous people to justice, such as the 26-year-old man who dressed as Jesus at the yearly Nadur Carnival. (He received a month’s suspended prison sentence.) Meanwhile, the Church makes certain that no immoral erotic plays get performed in the country (Passion of the Christ comes heavily endorsed though), and that Malta remains a European backwater of women’s rights by insisting on a dangerous blanket ban on abortions.
More precariously, a government’s willingness to enforce strict blasphemy laws lends legitimacy to vigilante actions whether they want it or not. For fervently religious communities, even an implication of possible religious offence may put a person’s life (and their family’s security) in danger. In the Maldives, a country with Sharia-based legislation, even speaking out for tolerance of non-mainstream Islam can have devastating consequences. In 2012, a Sufi Muslim blogger was stabbed in the neck outside his home. He had been previously imprisoned for participating in a peaceful demonstration for religious tolerance, and his blog blocked for being anti-Islamic. Clearly his attackers did not think the judicial system gave him what he deserved and took matters into their own hands.
It may be that a religious government does not support vigilante action, but by upholding legislation that allows one to demand justice for hurt feelings (and especially if this right is reserved to believers of one official religion) it implies that religion is rightfully to be protected from all offence. And this precedence may the unleash forces that are beyond the government’s ability or will to stop. In Indonesia, Islamist militants frequently violently harass religious minorities, tearing down churches and burning homes. The few arrested militants have received far shorter sentences than, for example, Alex Aan, who was jailed for 2 years and 6 months for his atheist web posts. The Indonesian government insists that the country’s religious harmony is doing well, but inaction in the face of Islamist vigilantism suggests they either sympathise with their cause, or are unwilling to halt them for fear of religious backlash.
Contrary to the claims of some believers, having laws against blasphemy does not increase tolerance. Rather than increasing harmony, these laws place restrictions on free debate and provide a tool by which governments and religious institutions can suppress dissent. Blasphemy laws also undermine women’s and minorities’ rights, and achievements in art and science. Everyone is allowed to feel offended, but criminalising offending feelings is dangerous as well as ineffective. The only way to better understanding and tolerance for believers and non-believers alike is through the unfettered exchange of ideas and opinions free from fear of persecution.
