Robyn Whitaker
When there were attacks on the Jewish community in Melbourne last year, St John’s Anglican church joined the Melbourne Hebrew Congregation for a Shabbat service and dinner. More than 50 Anglicans responded to the invitation in an act of solidarity, a way of saying “we see what is happening to your community”. Bread was broken, prayers were held, wine drunk, and tears were shed in gratitude for the support.
When 15 people were shot dead at the Hanukkah celebration in Bondi last December, the response from other faiths, and the nation, was swift. Christian and Muslim leaders gathered in unity with Jews and pledged their support. And, when a shooter killed 51 people at two mosques in Christchurch in 2019, there was similarly a demonstration of support from people of other faiths. Within 24 hours, Buddhists, Christians, Jews and others gathered in prayer together at the site.
But last week, when Pauline Hanson implied that Muslims were complicit in the “social cancer” of hate preachers, there was silence from religious leaders. Her comments at the National Press Club were entirely consistent with a career of stunts that have included dressing in a burqa in parliament (twice) and saying that there are no “good Muslims”. The latter led to an increase in threats against Muslim communities.
While I’ve seen countless articles either fact-checking Ms Hanson or analysing her speech, I have not seen a statement from a single religious leader condemning her defamation of Islam and Muslims. At least, not one that has been reported in the press. Where is the moral outrage?
When someone dismisses and defames an entire religion, all of us who are people of faith should shudder. Islam is – along with Christianity and Judaism – one of the world’s three main monotheistic religions.
The Hebrew Bible – the sacred text of Jews and Christians – speaks about Ishmael, the namesake of Islam and one of the prophets in that tradition, and says that God will make “a nation of him also” because he is Abraham’s offspring. In that story, God saves Ishmael and his mother from starvation in the desert. Islam then, is the cousin of Jews and, in turn, of Christians.
Christians, in particular, are not monoculturalists because we believe that all humans are made in the image of God. We understand that our own scriptures reflect cultures that, if we are Anglo-Saxons or Anglo-Celtic, are not our own. Care for the stranger infuses those scriptures. Moreover, one of the first miracles of the early church was the gift of speaking in multiple languages so that the good news could be heard across difference (Acts 2).
There are, of course, extremist Muslims. Yet, we would do well to remember there are also extremist Buddhists, extremist Jews, extremist Hindus and extremists Christians who likewise spout hate and do violence. No religion is free of a body count from its worst actors.
Hateful language in a speech is obviously not morally equivalent to hateful action that ends lives. But if we have learnt anything from past terrorist actions and the ongoing antisemitism royal commission, it should be that language matters.
Language is powerful. Language can incite and normalise violence. It can also dehumanise and divide.
As our community has become more divided over what is happening in Israel, Gaza and Lebanon, we have seen rising Islamophobia and rising antisemitism. Both are unacceptable: prejudice and discrimination towards any group increase fear and trauma for the people who identify with the group. This is why scholars call this type of speech “violence” – because it does real harm.
When one religious group is attacked, we are all under threat.
To be multicultural is to be multi-religious. We cannot have one without the other. Conversely, to be monocultural in the way Pauline Hanson suggests, is to be mono-religious too. We know what Hanson thinks of Muslims; how many other religions would she have us eradicate in pursuit of that goal? We need religious leaders and people of all faiths to stand up and defend our multicultural democracy.
Reverend Dr Robyn Whitaker is director of the Wesley Centre for Theology, Ethics and Public Policy
