Author: Ophelia Benson

Karen Armstrong is irritating in a great many ways, but one of the major ways is her passion for stringing together resounding words that sound vaguely impressive but don’t actually mean anything that one can figure out – that are carefully chosen not to mean anything. That is a habit that always makes me want to hit things, and she has a really severe case of it.

In the past, many of the most influential Jewish, Christian and Muslim thinkers understood that what we call “God” is merely a symbol that points beyond itself to an indescribable transcendence, whose existence cannot be proved but is only intuited by means of spiritual exercises and a compassionate lifestyle that enable us to cultivate new capacities of mind and heart.

What on earth is a symbol that points beyond itself to an indescribable transcendence? What does she mean by an indescribable transcendence? What exactly is that?

Whatever you want it to mean, right? After all, she did say it’s indescribable. But if it’s indescribable – why is she talking about it? Why does she do both? Why does she lay down the law about this stuff but choose her language in such a way that she avoids saying anything exact that one can get to grips with?

Well that’s a stupid question; we know why; because she can, because it works, because it sells lots of books, because it wins her an undeserved and indeed ridiculous reputation as an expert on religion among hordes of people who don’t know any better. Because it’s a good wheeze. There’s very little reason (apart from intellectual honesty) for her not to do it, because it does work such a treat.

And yet it surprises me all the same; I suppose it surprises me that she doesn’t make herself sick. It always surprises me that people who peddle meaningless jargon don’t make themselves sick in the process.

The best theology is a spiritual exercise, akin to poetry. Religion is not an exact science but a kind of art form that, like music or painting, introduces us to a mode of knowledge that is different from the purely rational and which cannot easily be put into words.

Says Armstrong. But the trouble with that is, it isn’t true. It’s apparently what Armstrong thinks should be true, it’s apparently what she wishes were true, but she expressed it in the indicative, not the conditional or the subjunctive. It would be nice if she were right about what religion is – it would be great if it were a kind of art form. But she isn’t right – she’s just confusing her wishes with reality.

As you may or may not know, Marie-Therese O’Loughlin, survivor of the nightmare of Goldenbridge Industrial School, has been working hard to get the education that the ‘Sisters of Mercy’ denied her. She took her first exam, in English, last June. She wasn’t sure she’d done terribly well, but was determined to re-take the exam next year if necessary.

She got her results a few days ago.

She got an A.

Boris Johnson said a fatuous thing.

“There are valuable lessons people of all backgrounds can learn from Islam, such as the importance of community spirit, family ties, compassion and helping those less fortunate, all of which lie at the heart of the teachings of Ramadan.”

Obviously meant to be a very kind inclusive generous outreachy thing, but fatuous nevertheless, because if that were true, wouldn’t it show up somewhere? Wouldn’t there be at least one country run according to ‘Islamic principles’ or just plain sharia that was unusually good at compassion and helping those less fortunate? A city on a hill, a beacon to the rest of the world? Or at least a well-known and much-discussed example of compassionate and egalitarian governance? And as far as I know there isn’t. Do correct me if I’m wrong. Sudan? No. Pakistan? No. Afghanistan? Don’t make tasteless jokes. Malaysia? No. Northern Nigeria? No. Saudi Arabia? Please.

So the question becomes, what exactly are the ‘valuable lessons’ that ‘people of all backgrounds can learn from Islam’ about compassion and helping those less fortunate? I don’t dispute that there are words about compassion and helping those less fortunate in Islamic sources, but one, do they say anything unique to Islam? And two, have they made any difference to ‘Islam’ as it actually plays out in the world?

As far as I know the answer is no and no. Do correct me if I’m wrong. In the meantime I will go on wishing political figures would stop sucking up to religion in this way. Be kind and inclusive and generous and outreachy to people, by all means, but skip the religion-flattering.

Sultan Munadi.

Barry Bearak, South Asia Bureau Co-Chief, 1998-2002: “Mr. Munadi, as well as the other “translators” who have worked—and continue to work—for The Times in Afghanistan are also skilled journalists. They accompany Western reporters into the field, leading as much as following. They are a walking Who’s Who, historian, guide, lie detector, supply sergeant, master of logistics, taking equal the risks without equal the glory or pay. One more thing: “translators” like Mr. Munadi take responsibility for the reporter’s life…With the Taliban driven from Kabul, Sultan returned to his formal journalism studies while also working for The Times. When he was graduated, party was held at a newly-opened restaurant. I had the opportunity to talk with Mr. Munadi’s favorite professor. “Sultan was the very best of my students,” he told me.”

Amy Waldman, South Asia Bureau Co-Chief, 2002-2005: “My main memory of Sultan is laughing with him. He was extremely intelligent, scrupulous, honest, curious, dedicated, and fair, but he was also full of mirth – prepared to find almost anything funny, from a politician’s hypocrisy to the not-always-adept Afghan bureaucracy to my weak wisecracks.He had a very distinctive laugh – like a hard giggle, or a soft cackle, a hearty laugh from someone built like a beanpole…When I wanted to write about Afghan women, he helped me find women who could work with me to interpret. He took me home to meet his sister, who he felt, by virtue of being a woman, was too often trapped in the house…All of our interpreters, Sultan among them, were men in their 20s who had lost years to the Taliban, almost always leaving school or university and finding work to support their families.”

That’s just a sample – read the whole thing. It’s heartbreaking.

Tony Blair gets more sickening every day. Individualism, financial crisis, profit, communal good, deeper level, materialistic, my generation, urk urk urk.

The danger is clear: that pursuit of pleasure becomes an end in itself. It is here that faith can step in, can show us a proper sense of duty to others, responsibility for the world around us, and can lead us to, as the Holy Father calls it, caritas in veritate.

Ew? Ew ew ew ew EW!

What the hell does he mean ‘the Holy Father’? He’s not my fucking Holy Father! He may be Tony Blair’s Holy Father but he’s not mine, so he’s not ‘the.’ The arrogance of them – thinking there is such a thing as ‘the Holy Father’ and we’re all obliged to call it that. The me no the, Tony! Keep your holy pater to yourself.

And if you can’t manage to develop a proper sense of duty to others yourself without help from ‘faith’ then there’s something wrong with you – so go improve yourself instead of nagging everyone about your poxy ‘faith.’

The recent Papal Encyclical is a remarkable document in many respects…It puts God’s Truth at the centre of it. In one passage, it describes humanism devoid of faith as “inhuman humanism”: “Without God, man neither knows which way to go, nor even understands who he is.”

That’s nice – he approves a description of atheists as inhuman and then tells us we don’t know where to go or who we are because we don’t believe in his ‘God.’ Odd how nostalgic I feel for Alastair Campbell.