"There's probably no God. Now stop worrying and enjoy your life." This slogan shouts out in bright pink letters from the side of 60 red London bendy-buses. The No God campaign is a project of the British Humanist Association and has stirred up more than a little controversy.
Professor Richard Dawkins, a prominent scientist and atheist who supports the campaign financially, contends, "This campaign to put alternative slogans on London buses will make people think, and thinking is anathema to religion."
On a more personal level, a British classmate recently put my religious beliefs on the spot in the middle of causal conversation. "Do you believe in God?" he asked. Maybe I am more of a traditional Midwest girl than I had previously realized, but where I am from one's religious beliefs are not something you inquire of a person you have just met. This young man, like the buses, then proceeded to tell me that there is no point in worrying about religion. Why not just be a good person to be a good person? Why look for anything more?
The evangelist atheist voice has many competitors in central London. This city is the most diverse place I have every lived. Unsurprisingly, such diversity extends into the realm of religion. On a walk through my neighborhood, one catches view of the Quaker Friendship House, Italian Catholic Church; synagogues; mosques; a myriad of Protestant Christian congregations belonging to the Church of England, Lutheran, and Baptist churches; a Buddhist center; and even a Church of Scientology.
Religious diversity has entered my classroom unlike ever before. At a recent lecture given on campus titled "International Law and Religion: Friends or Foes?" Professor Mashood Baderin spoke of the undeniable influence of religion on international law, and international law on religion. As an international law major, his words refreshingly addressed what has only before been an implicit assumption in my studies, that international law fails without knowledge of religious beliefs. And why wouldn't the two overlap frequently? As he described, they are both social phenomenon, both forms of social ordering, and they can both be politicized and manipulated.
Professor Baderin warned of practicing intolerant secularism in international law. When religion's presence is denied, international law can become discriminatory. His studies support an accommodationist approach in which international law recognizes and tolerates local culture and religion, working with religion to establish an acceptable code of law. While this all sounds well and simple in words, even a quick glance at contentious contemporary issues reveals the complications. For example, who is the authority on whether the practice of polygamy or female genital mutilation should be allowed to continue among certain populations?
The heat turns up more when the discussion turns to real actors in a very real conflict. At my college in London, the School of Oriental and African Studies (SOAS), over 60 percent of students are from overseas. SOAS is incredibly diverse in background and perspective; many of my classmates wear a hijab, and some were instrumental in the Peace for Gaza demonstrations that destroyed an urban London Starbucks in January.
Several weeks ago, Karen Armstrong and Dr. Tariq Ramadan were on campus for a chat and launch of a new website for the Global Movement of Non Violent Resistance. (Check it out.) Both brought interesting perspectives on the role of religion in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. Karen Armstrong also spoke of her recent project, the Charter for Compassion. This charter unites the major world religions on their commonalities and centers around one key concept: Compassion is not pity. Compassion requires practical action.
In the midst of these recent hostilities, I detect a real fear of anti-Semitism among my university peers. While most members of the protesting community urge, "We aren't anti-Jewish; we're anti-Israel and its recent actions," one student had the courage to ask of Professor Ramadan during the question and answer session what advice he can offer to those students who are anti-Semitic.
Outside the United States, it is widely known that 30 percent of Americas foreign aid goes to Israel.
This is just one of the new perspectives from which I now view the United State. As an American citizen studying in London, I've found myself reticent to discuss the topic of Israeli-Palestinian relations in particular, and personal religious practice in general. But the place where I do feel comfortable in this complex intersection between international law and religion is best summed up by Professor Baderin's advice: Don't fight. Everything can be discussed.
Now, that is something I can believe in.
On a more personal level, a British classmate recently put my religious beliefs on the spot in the middle of causal conversation. "Do you believe in God?" he asked. Maybe I am more of a traditional Midwest girl than I had previously realized, but where I am from one's religious beliefs are not something you inquire of a person you have just met. This young man, like the buses, then proceeded to tell me that there is no point in worrying about religion. Why not just be a good person to be a good person? Why look for anything more?
The evangelist atheist voice has many competitors in central London. This city is the most diverse place I have every lived. Unsurprisingly, such diversity extends into the realm of religion. On a walk through my neighborhood, one catches view of the Quaker Friendship House, Italian Catholic Church; synagogues; mosques; a myriad of Protestant Christian congregations belonging to the Church of England, Lutheran, and Baptist churches; a Buddhist center; and even a Church of Scientology.
Religious diversity has entered my classroom unlike ever before. At a recent lecture given on campus titled "International Law and Religion: Friends or Foes?" Professor Mashood Baderin spoke of the undeniable influence of religion on international law, and international law on religion. As an international law major, his words refreshingly addressed what has only before been an implicit assumption in my studies, that international law fails without knowledge of religious beliefs. And why wouldn't the two overlap frequently? As he described, they are both social phenomenon, both forms of social ordering, and they can both be politicized and manipulated.
Professor Baderin warned of practicing intolerant secularism in international law. When religion's presence is denied, international law can become discriminatory. His studies support an accommodationist approach in which international law recognizes and tolerates local culture and religion, working with religion to establish an acceptable code of law. While this all sounds well and simple in words, even a quick glance at contentious contemporary issues reveals the complications. For example, who is the authority on whether the practice of polygamy or female genital mutilation should be allowed to continue among certain populations?
The heat turns up more when the discussion turns to real actors in a very real conflict. At my college in London, the School of Oriental and African Studies (SOAS), over 60 percent of students are from overseas. SOAS is incredibly diverse in background and perspective; many of my classmates wear a hijab, and some were instrumental in the Peace for Gaza demonstrations that destroyed an urban London Starbucks in January.
Several weeks ago, Karen Armstrong and Dr. Tariq Ramadan were on campus for a chat and launch of a new website for the Global Movement of Non Violent Resistance. (Check it out.) Both brought interesting perspectives on the role of religion in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. Karen Armstrong also spoke of her recent project, the Charter for Compassion. This charter unites the major world religions on their commonalities and centers around one key concept: Compassion is not pity. Compassion requires practical action.
In the midst of these recent hostilities, I detect a real fear of anti-Semitism among my university peers. While most members of the protesting community urge, "We aren't anti-Jewish; we're anti-Israel and its recent actions," one student had the courage to ask of Professor Ramadan during the question and answer session what advice he can offer to those students who are anti-Semitic.
Outside the United States, it is widely known that 30 percent of Americas foreign aid goes to Israel.
This is just one of the new perspectives from which I now view the United State. As an American citizen studying in London, I've found myself reticent to discuss the topic of Israeli-Palestinian relations in particular, and personal religious practice in general. But the place where I do feel comfortable in this complex intersection between international law and religion is best summed up by Professor Baderin's advice: Don't fight. Everything can be discussed.
Now, that is something I can believe in.
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