Religious offence v. offensive religion

It says in the Independent’s blog section (if that’s what it is) that in India

The editor and publisher of The Statesman, a highly respected Kolkata based English daily, have been arrested on charges of “hurting the religious feelings” of Muslims because they printed a piece written last month by Independent columnist Johann Hari.

I believe the piece in question was the one I mentioned earlier.

The bit that caused the trouble was allegedly this:

All people deserve respect, but not all ideas do. I don’t respect the idea that a man was born of a virgin, walked on water and rose from the dead. I don’t respect the idea that we should follow a “Prophet” who at the age of 53 had sex with a nine-year old girl, and ordered the murder of whole villages of Jews because they wouldn’t follow him.

I know enough about Christianity to recognise some of its views in the above, which I believe are stated correctly. I don’t know enough about Islam to be as certain of the apparently historical statements about its prophet, but I imagine that they must have some basis in fact.

They do say that it can’t be libel if it’s true. Indian jurisprudence is said to be based on ours; can anyone explain how the paragraph quoted can possibly be offensive to either faith if its statements are true; that Christians really do believe those things (as I am fairly sure they do, or at least are expected to), and that Mohammed really did do those things (on which I am of course open to correction)? Or are we to suppose that such a baldly factual statement, which is really about Mr. Hari’s own beliefs rather than anyone else’s, ought to be grounds in any civilised country for criminal prosecution?

On the subject of religion (not having yet achieved the internationally desirable status of ‘full-spectrum offence delivery system’) I wonder whether David Davis is being at all serious. If he is, I do believe that he ought to consider the definition of ‘pagan’ (and also perhaps ‘heathen’). My firm understanding of this is that early Christians referred to all of the antecedent religions which they industriously replaced with their own as ‘pagan’, meaning ‘the religion of the country people’, or ‘heathen’, meaning ‘the religion of the people of the heathland’ (as opposed to Christianity, which was the religion of the civilised and sophisticated towns).

On this basis the religion of the ancient Egyptians, which lasted for twice as long as Christianity has and which often achieved a degree of theocratic efficiency which could tempt to envy a Benedictine abbot (and for which I have to admit a lurking sympathy, probably because the Egyptians provided themselves with not one but two cat-goddesses), would also be described as ‘pagan’.

Fortunately, perhaps, for Mr. Davis, the preference of the majority of those still of Egyptianate persuasions in the 21st century is for Bastet, the cat-goddess who is genial and likes kittens (with a basket of which she is often portrayed), rather than Sekhmet, the lioness-goddess who could be dissuaded from exterminating the entire human race on the Magnusson principle (“I’ve started, so I’ll finish”) only by a last-minute stratagem of Ra involving an ocean of beer dyed to look like blood.

With gods like these, whose curses act reliably after several thousand years and whose generally shocking behaviour the ancient Egyptians not so much revered as endured (the Egyptian 360-day year was adjusted by the addition of five days, which were held to be the birthdays of five particularly naughty gods known to scholars by the snappy title of ‘the epagomenal netjers‘; on these days, rather than indulging in any kind of religious celebration, prudent Egyptians would stay indoors, receive no visitors, and start no new undertakings), the taking of any kind of umbrage at what people say about one’s beliefs would become somewhat redundant.

If Mr. Davis actually means ‘wetter-than-Manannan MacLir*, NewAge (pron. to rhyme with ’sewage’), hand-wringing, Guardian-reading makers of tofu ice cream’ then I should prefer him to say so (it would, in the majority of cases, be no more than the truth).

Of course I personally am not about to be ‘offended’ by anything that he says; indeed, like whoever it was (Voltaire?), though I may disagree with it, I will defend his right to say it.

However, he might wish to bear in mind that the old Egyptian gods are not necessarily so tolerant. A reliable Spiritualist would doubtless be able to organise a séance at which he could ask the shade of Howard Carter about this.

* the Celtic god of the Irish Sea