BACK IN my glory days as the founder and editor of the opinion page of my high school newspaper, the monthly-published "Fox Tales," I dabbled in the art of editorial cartooning. No obnoxious school policy or tiresome student assembly was spared the wrath of my satirical illustrations, much to the delight of my fellow students. Or so it went, until I decided to take on our school's yearly charity telethon.
It was a tasteful, albeit poorly drawn cartoon about the things students do during telethon day. To me, the cartoon was a sardonic poke at the telethon's poor management. But to the teacher who ran the paper, the cartoon was an unnecessarily provocative jab at a cherished tradition that would get her in trouble. Thus at the last minute, the obsessive need to pander to concerns of political correctness won out, and she censored the cartoon.
In high school, there is nothing even remotely approaching the right to free expression. Out in the real world of professional journalism, however, it is a central tenet of the business. While certain standards of journalistic practicemay curb a reporter's treatment of issues, they seem to apply in reverse to the editorial cartoonist, who is encouraged to make mincemeat out of the particular issue or public figure at hand. But even the cartoonist is encouraged to keep his or her work, while by no means within the realm of politeness or political correctness, within the bounds of taste. I knew that in high school, but some of my fellow cartoonists in Europe seemed to have missed that lesson.
Last September, Jyllands-Posten, a Danish newspaper, failed the "taste test," and the consequences have been global. Along with an article apparently protesting self-censorship among European cartoonists, the paper published 12 cartoons featuring the Islamic prophet Muhammad in such tactful representations as wearing a bomb-shaped turban and telling suicide bombers arriving at paradise to stop because they ran out of virgins. Islamic tradition forbids any visual depiction of the prophet, but independent of that fact these cartoons were simply incendiary and incredibly tasteless.
There was an initial outcry following the publication of the cartoons, but last week, news of the cartoons spread across the Middle East. Angry Muslims attacked the Danish embassy in Indonesia, thousands of demonstrators in Gaza assembled, chanting "Death to Denmark!" and burning Danish flags, and yesterday a mob set fire to the Danish Consulate in Beirut. An Iraqi insurgent group publicly announced its intent to target Danes, and both Libya and Saudi Arabia have withdrawn ambassadors from Copenhagen.
Additionally, clerics throughout the Middle East have called for a boycott of Danish and European products. Danish Prime Minister Anders Fogh Rasmussen tried to make clear that his government isn't responsible for the content of an independent paper, but nonetheless expressed his "distress" at the ramifications for his country.
The fact that several other European newspapers have unabashedly republished the cartoons in order to make a statement about free speech has also exacerbated the problem. The French daily France Soir ran the pictures last Wednesday, declaring that "no religious dogma can impose its view on a democratic and secular society