I’ve always been an outspoken supporter of the LGBT community. So when I heard that the infamous Westboro Baptist Church was going to be protesting my high school’s Gay-Straight Alliance, I immediately felt my bleeding heart senses tingling. I checked the Facebook group my friend created for a counter-protest, sad that I could only be there in spirit, and read the comments. They were pretty predictable — a lot of outrage, a lot of promises to stand up to such a deplorable act. But one in particular stood out to me.
“I will be there I hate overly religious people so I will definitely come.”
Not only was it a poorly constructed run-on, but this kid’s reasoning struck a nerve. Okay, I thought, I’m not a huge fan of religion either, but I would never protest people for simply possessing an organized belief system (if this were only what the issue were about). Furthermore, wasn’t this supposed to be about LGBT support? Conflating these two ideas seemed to demean the whole point of protesting these people. This kid didn’t know his enemy. It’s not the institution of organized religion — it’s extremism masquerading as God’s word.
If you’ve heard of the Westboro Baptist Church, you’ll know that it’s not a religious institution — it’s a bona fide hate group and should be treated as such. They’re the ones who proliferate intolerance across the country by picketing military funerals and standing outside synagogues telling Jewish people that God hates them.
Any organization whose domain name is godhatesfags isn’t real religion — it’s pure hate. And anyone who says otherwise is a downright bigot. We have to realize that hate isn’t a prerequisite for any faith. When it’s been bastardized to the point of absolute intolerance or lethal violence, it’s no longer religion, it’s just plain extremism. But differentiating between the two will help us to understand against whom we should really be fighting.
The commenter on the message board isn’t the only one guilty of immediately linking religion with fanaticism. The conflation of religion with extremism has recently been highlighted in the Fort Hood shootings in Texas. The sheer horror and tragedy of the killings is being lost in the midst of arguing about whether the shooter, Major Nidal Malik Hasan, was a Muslim. One thing to bear in mind is that there is the broader idea of terrorism that Americans have become accustomed to (e.g. Al Qaeda), and then there are individual acts of terrorism. Being Muslim certainly isn’t a terrorist prerequisite. Timothy McVeigh, a US Army veteran, committed one of the most horrific acts of domestic terrorism in modern American history when he bombed the Alfred P. Murrah Building in Oklahoma City in 1995. In modern times, though, terrorists are automatically associated with Islam and vice versa.
Any evidence that shows that Hasan murdered 13 innocent people in the name of Islam has to be countered with the undeniable fact that if he did, he was not honoring Islam by any means. This fervor is now just detracting from the tragedy, and Muslims groups are being forced to condemn what they already know is horrendous. Organizations such as the Council on American-Islamic Relations immediately released statements denouncing the acts.
“I believe it’s most important to make note that the Muslim community responded [...] appropriately to condemn and contrast the shooter’s actions from how Muslims live in accordance to Islam,” wrote Gerald Hankerson, Outreach Director of CAIR-Chicago, in an e-mail. “The support coming from interfaith and social service groups for the Muslim community and organizations testifies that American Muslims have reached out to share [...] how they live in this nation with our neighbors and fellow citizens. Verily, both Muslims and the American public should do more and continue working to sincerely engage our communities and dispel falsehoods, alleviate alienating communities and cease double standards in unveiling truths so our nation’s peace and security will prevail, further influencing hearts and minds abroad.”
Organizations like Westboro Baptist Church and people like Nidal Malik Hasan make it difficult for those already skeptical of religion to remember to separate the good from the outrageous and extreme. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have an urge to punch the crap out of everyone who showed up outside my school with a “God Hates Fags” sweatshirt. But then I remember that these people don’t represent Christianity and they should be ashamed to call themselves Christian. If we want to make the strongest case against acts of extremism, we have to target the right people in the right way.