Neil McNicholas: Why did we hear no questions about preachers of hate?

GIVEN my seven years working in Saudi Arabia before I became a priest, I have some knowledge of Islam, but I am also aware that there are probably as many differences in observance and practice within that faith as there are within the Christian church, and this can very often depend on the country.

For example, whereas anyone is welcome to come in and worship in a church, in my experience the same was certainly not true of mosques in Saudi.

This led me to reflect not too long ago, in an article written for this newspaper, on the unique experience I had in the “Prayer Room” of Amsterdam’s Schipol Airport, where I sat quietly praying alongside a Jewish lady and a Muslim family.

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Under normal circumstances we – Christian, Jewish, Muslim, male and female – could never have prayed in the same room even though we were praying to the same God.

This aspect of exclusion, if I can use that word, creates a distinct sense of “unknowing” about what goes on in our individual places of worship. This is true even within our various Christian denominations and which has led, over the centuries, to bigotry and intolerance that fed on that aspect of “unknowing”. And, much to our shame, those centuries have also seen much that we would today call “hatred preaching” directed at our brothers and sisters in Christ.

By finally talking together and, wherever possible, worshipping together, a great many barriers have been removed and walls broken down.

If nothing else, Catholics have discovered that we can worship in non-Catholic churches without being struck by lightning, and Protestants have discovered that Catholics don’t have horns and pointy tails after all.

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Here in this country it is as unlikely that you would find non-Muslims attending the local mosque any more than you would find Muslims in church, synagogue or temple. Similarly, you wouldn’t expect to find Manchester City fans coming along to support United, or Everton fans singing You’ll Never Walk A lone in the Kop. It just doesn’t happen and it’s a perfectly understandable situation that we choose to worship with those who share our faith – whether religion or sport.

But in the area of religion at least, it does mean that bigotry and radicalism can rear their ugly heads without “outsiders” knowing, and it falls on those who disagree with what is being said to speak out in support of what is hopefully the majority view.

The tragic and horrendous events in Woolwich last week have once again raised fears of radicalisation and “hatred preaching” though it is unclear whether, if it’s happening, it is happening in this country or overseas.

It was both heartening and encouraging to hear words of condemnation being expressed immediately by various Islamic community leaders. So often the silence is deafening but, on this particular occasion, those voices spoke for everyone in the face of such a sickening act carried out in the name of religion. But it raises the question, if so many are so genuinely appalled by what took place, how is hate preaching taking place?

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I found myself reflecting on the fact that if I was to say something in my Sunday sermon that someone in the congregation objected to or disagreed with, there would be an email on its way to the bishop before I’d even had my dinner, or a letter on his doormat first thing Monday morning (and just my luck for a first class delivery to happen for once!) Indeed, you could almost put money on what it would take to set those particular wheels in motion or the individuals who would be giving them a push (or trying to give me the push).

So if it is the case that hate sermons are being preached, and the radicalisation of young Muslims is taking place, here in this country, and if it is further the case that the vast majority of Muslims do not agree with what is being said, as surely they don’t, then why aren’t those radical preachers being reported to the authorities as a matter of course?

Why aren’t more questions being asked about what is going on? Even if these things are only happening at particular mosques or meetings that may be, as it were, outside the fold of mainstream Islam in this country (whatever the sect), someone must know. Why isn’t it a source of concern to the local Muslim community? Surely they should be as concerned as non-Muslims would be?

Whether it’s our British citizenship or our common belief in God, to paraphrase the words of John F Kennedy, surely what we have in common is greater than what some are trying to use to drive us apart.

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