We must not let the brutal censors win - Inaya Folarin Iman

It has been more than a week since acclaimed author Salman Rushdie was stabbed multiple times, including in the face and neck, as he was introduced at the Chautauqua Institution as a headline speaker in the cultural centre’s summer programme. 

Some, I suspect, are wondering why it took this organisation so long to make a public statement about the horrendous incident. Surely, an author, a world-renowned one at that, being brutally attacked for daring to poke the sensitivities and taboos of religious fundamentalists is worthy of swift and forthright condemnation? Well, of course. 

But, in truth, the reason it took so long to write this article was that for days words had genuinely escaped me. Beyond stating that the attack was disgustingly wrong and should never have happened, I struggled to find the words to express my profound anger and frustration. 

Whilst every event like this rightly unleashes outpourings of shock and devastation, impassioned defences of freedom of speech, calls on all to stand up for liberal values, and so forth, there is now an eerie repetitiveness to our immediate reactions to these awful occurrences. 

This attack comes more than three decades since Ruhollah Khomeini, the then supreme leader of Iran, issued a fatwa calling for Rushdie's assassination. This followed the publication of his fourth novel, The Satanic Verses (1988), which became the subject of controversy after it was deemed by some to be blasphemous against Islam.

And since then, rather than spark a renewed cherishing of our sacred values, we have instead, accepted and institutionalised much of the logic that underpinned the actions of those brutal censors. We now widely proselytise about how certain ‘identities’ must be ‘protected’ from offence, and that certain identities must be treated differently due to their religious, cultural or racial background. We commonly say that the prevention of offence or the preservation of ‘emotional safety’ should take precedence over the universal value of freedom of speech. We assert that hurtful words can be reasonably equated with violence. Further, those that argue for the widest possible boundaries of freedom of speech are viewed with suspicion, as uncool and archaic in some way.

It was only a few months ago that several cinemas in the UK pulled a screening of a Twelver Shia-aligned film The Lady of Heaven, after protests and intimidation from Islamists. But, that skirmish was only a minuscule tip of the iceberg. 

In 2021, a teacher was forced into hiding after he received threats for teaching about blasphemy and showing examples of what might be regarded as blasphemous to some Muslims. The murder of Samual Paty in 2020. The Charlie Hebdo massacre in 2015. Less we forget the Jyllands-Posten Muhammad cartoons controversy in 2005 and many other such occurrences.

What leads words to escape me is that there seems to be very little link between condemnation and society-wide action. Beyond measures that ultimately serve to undermine our civil liberties, in the form of intelligence and security responses, where is a mass societal campaign to defend our liberal values? It is not merely that freedom of speech is important, but surely it is also that we have a moral imperative to offend, so that we all, regardless of background develop the moral independence to tolerate one another and win our arguments democratically and civilly. 

At what point has it gone too far? At what point has the line been crossed where we no longer put up with the scourge corroding our society? Is there no straw that breaks the camel's back?

But, unfortunately, and bitterly, a mass movement is unlikely to happen. Last year, a British Member of Parliament, Sir David Amess, was murdered in cold blood by an Islamist, and the most the political class in Britain could muster were some mealy-mouthed scoffs about ‘online hate’. No turning point moment, no moral and political leadership, no fundamental shift in attitude and focus, just deflection and obfuscation.

But, there is something even more troubling going on. There is an air of ambivalence, indifference, and contempt even in many of the mainstream responses following these violent and destructive attacks. In a sense, I have more sympathy for the cowards, at least they recognise there is a problem, but that they are too scared to do anything about it. But, it is those who insinuate that these attacks are almost a fair small price to pay for offending the blind prejudices and sensibilities of so-called vulnerable groups. Just stay in your lane, don’t get ideas above your station, just don’t do it and you won’t get hurt. It is these reactions that really show us how terrible things have become.

Many in our cultural and political elites accepted defeat a long time ago. They gave up on liberal ideals of freedom of conscience, freedom of speech, equality of opportunity, and colourblindness. They stopped believing that the future was worth fighting for and instead thought the best we could do was manage our decline. At most, humans are fragile cyphers of their identity groups that need to be protected, cordoned off from one another and micromanaged so they do not spontaneously combust under the pressure of a supposedly scary, chaotic world. 

We cannot be defeatist about the struggle to defend liberal values. There is nothing permanent or inevitable about where we are today and therefore, the future is and always will be up for grabs. But, we must also not be naive about the scale of the challenges we face. We must ask, when we condemn these attacks, who are we speaking to and to what end? Who are the people that most need to hear this and what will lead them to change their minds about why standing up for freedom of speech is essential?

We cannot just condemn this attack, move on within weeks and hope for the best, we need to recognise that this illiberalism takes many forms and shapes, and it is corrupting our society on multiple fronts. Only last week, the University of Sheffield forced out a diversity officer for promoting diversity of opinion, by presenting a range of views on the race and gender debate. A well-known comedian’s show was cancelled because some found his act offensive. People are losing their jobs, being ostracised, vilified and tarnished for daring to have a different view. This is where we are now. But, this isn’t where we have to be forever. 

No one is coming to save us. It’s incumbent on all of us to repair our fractured social fabric and rebuild our ancient liberal foundations. Volunteer for a free speech organisation, join boards of organisations, start a free speech discussion group, stand for office, become a school governor, vote in every election, have a meeting with your local politician and ask them to do more on these issues. We must speak up for those facing censorship. Our culture is worth fighting for, but it won't happen by itself, we, all of us have to fight for it. 

The Equiano Project fully, wholeheartedly and unequivocally stands with Salman Rushdie.