Portrait

Both the BBC and Aljazeera have reported that the LTTE has confirmed that Prabhakaran is dead. This may not have been necessary for those of us living here, but it may play an important role in giving Sri Lankan Tamils diaspora who supported the LTTE cause some reason to move on.

Even Pathmanathan has now said, “We have already announced that we have given up violence and agreed to enter a democratic process to achieve the rights for the Tamil (self) determination of our people.” It is such a tragedy that it took them 30 years to figure this one out, and that it cost so many countless innocent lives, but maybe this is truly a case of better late than never.

D.B.S Jeyraj, as usual, has interesting take on things, saying, “What is pathetic about the pro-tiger Tamil diaspora is that they are not only denying their departed leader tribute and homage but also depriving all the other senior tiger leaders due recongnition after death. The LTTE that made a fetish out of commemorating their dead (great heroes) is being denied any form of recognition let alone glorification after such mass death.”

Anyhow, there is a very different, much greater cause that needs fighting for. In Sri Lanka there are currently approximately 275,000 displaced people in IDP camps and hospitals in the North: ill, old, young, maimed, hopeless, fearful. We can start by giving them the basics: drinking water, milk powder, a pillow to rest their heads on. Maybe we can move on to fulfilling the more complex needs that arise within a human: toys for the children, vocational training for the young, psychological relief for the traumatised. Maybe in time we can give them the strength to support themselves, give them back their lives in some form, and most importantly, work together to give them the framework in which they can live their lives free from fear.

These people, they need more than our sympathy. They need our help. They need more than for us to see their pictures on the internet, and shed a tear. They need food, and clothing and medicine. They need more than for us to shout about what a great humanitarian crisis Sri Lanka is facing. They need to be able to go back to their homes. They need more from us, they deserve more from us. There is not much use in sympathy. But there is a lot of use in actual, practical service.

These people, as Indi says, are not beggars. They are not parasites, looking to leech off society. They are not always keen to ask for your help, leave alone beg for it. They are people, proud people, once people who had nice homes and and well kept gardens. These are people who were probably good at their jobs and had plans for their children. So they don’t need you to feel sorry for them. They need you to come in and merely help them get back on their feet so that they can move on with their lives.

This cause will take a long time to materialise. But Sri Lankans are used to supporting causes that take a long time to show results. Some of us are used to backing our armed forces as they fought a 3o year war. Some of us are used to supporting the rebels as they fought for an elusive homeland for 30 years. It all took years. And this will take as long, maybe even longer. This will require just as much patience, just as much commitment.

But this is a cause that needs every single one of us. Let’s leave the cause of war behind, and work for this cause of peace. Let’s leave the cause of destruction behind and work for the cause of rehabilitation. Let’s leave the cause of ethnic nationalism behind and work for the cause of unity.

This cause is a very real cause. It will be much more useful than supporting a war, much more fruitful than supporting a cause of extremism and violence. Let’s support a cause that is truly worthy. A cause that is not selfish. A cause which we can support with pride and dignity.

Yesterday, a friend and I were in the thick of things down Parliament Road. Driving down Cotta Road on a moped, we squeezed past literally hundreds of big, empty red buses, which were simply stopped, blocking the entire road. There were, again literally, thousands of people on the streets, from Borella to Parliament Grounds. Mostly they were young men, but there were also the old, the very, very young, and the women. Mostly, the young men were all wasted. They had probably been drinking all the way from Puttalam or Bandarawela or wherever it is that they came from. Because they had come from everywhere.

A few times, we tried to ask very innocent questions, like why were there all these buses, and was there any other road we could take? And we were met with shouting, groping, scolding, sarcasm and insults.

Now I can see why some people were scared by these celebratory masses of drunk men. I was quite scared, tense to say the least. I told my friend, let’s not draw any attention to ourselves, let’s just get out of here. There was a distinctive attitude of aggression and arrogance in the air. There was a lot of ego, and even a weird sense of militancy. It felt like all these men were letting out all the anger, frustration and desperation they had felt over the last so many years on this one concentrated occasion. This is a fair bit of anger and frustration, as you can imagine. It is the anger and frustration of literally thousands of people, all channeled into ‘celebrating’. I can easily imagine how this kind of gathering could have spun out of control.

The President was not the calm, collected man we saw in Parliament, speaking solemn words of reassurance and promise. He was the politician speaking to the adoring masses, the menacing, fist-shaking, fat politician, shouting slogans of war and victory. The mass hysteria was more than palpable. People parrot his propaganda word for word, I’ve noticed. And no doubt, his speech on Parliament Grounds will be repeated for months to come.

Propaganda is useful. It works to get people motivated, it keeps the morale high. There are a lot of ideas being promoted to the people right now, and what I disagree with is not the strong idea that we won the war, but that we did it the right way. Perhaps there is no right way to fight a war, but then that’s the point: we should be teaching our children and youth that this was a war we were forced to fight, and that war is not the answer. The idea of war and fighting itself is being glorified and placed on a very high pedestal. All the very small children I saw at the Commemoration ceremony yesterday, all gleefully waving flags and clapping with joy, are being taught that fighting is the way to fix things, to ‘win’ things.

I principally don’t agree with war and violence as a solution to anything. But we did engage in a war and therefore we have engaged in a lot of violence. All I wish is that there was some note of regret, some note of solemnity, so that people can know that wars are not a glamorous end to things, and that fighting is not an awesome, brave solution. War is something that a nation should enter into with great caution, seriousness and thought. A military victory is something that a nation should acknowledge with pride, yes, but also a pinch of regret for all the destruction and death, a somber thought for the magnitude of loss. And I don’t mean going on and going on about all the death and destruction caused by the enemy, as if we ourselves have not caused any death or destruction. I mean actually acknowledging that war itself inherently means death and destruction, whoever it may be that is causing it.

As I watched all the faces of the wide-eyed children at that ceremony, I felt a little anxious. There they were, possibly with dreamy visions of gun-toting heroes in camouflage outfits in their heads, wishing that one day they too will grow up to be that brave and useful to their nation; believing that freedom and sovereignty can be won only through annihilation and war, going home thinking perhaps, that they have nothing and no one to fear, because if it ever comes right down to it, wars can be waged and even won. They will grow up thinking that war is a good choice, a right choice, that killing is necessary to wipe out threats.

Along with all the “Jayawewa”s, I wish the President had inspired a moment of quiet thought amongst the people gathered there yesterday. I wish he would have used the power he wields over them and their every thought to say to them, “I wish we had never fought this war. I wish we had found another way. But we couldn’t, and we had to fight, and I am sorry for all the loss and the permanent damage”. I wish there was just a moment of mature contemplation of the price Sri Lanka has paid, as a nation. I wish there had been one thought spared for what a terrible thing war truly is, just one moment in which he had acknowledged the true nature of war, so unnecessarily destructive and futile.

I wish he had made a point to tell all the children there that he wishes they should never have to fight, a war or otherwise. I wish he had said to them, “War is not the only option. Give peace a chance”.

I may have come off as negative or pessimistic in my post before. Don’t get me wrong, I feel this. I feel the relief, and the joy, and more than anything, I feel the hope.

The President’s speech in Parliament was impressive. He said everything that was expected of him as a President. He reassured the people that there would be no more talk of ‘minorities’ and that all would be treated as equals. He gave the International Community a resounding and confident ‘fuck off’. And he established that there would be only those that love this country, and those that don’t: a patriotism which would of course be measured by their standards of what is love for one’s country and what is not. Despite this last point, he gave me hope. He convinced me that he is not racist. That his government is not a racist government. I hope I am right. He gave me hope that his intentions are good. That their intentions for Sri Lanka are pure. There is a lot of change to be made, and he gave me hope that they are ready to make these changes, no matter how challenging they may be.

But he has a little more convincing to do. And he has a lot to prove. He has to convince me that he will stand against corruption just as strongly as he stood against terrorism. That he will fight for freedom of expression just as he has fought for freedom from the LTTE. He has to prove that their armed forces will never again rape and pillage and assassinate. That they will never plunder and molest and murder. He has to prove that they will never lie to or betray or steal from its own people. He has to earn my trust, whatever that may mean to him. But I am willing to wait. I am willing to give them a chance. I am willing to hope.

All this won’t happen over night. And certainly, all this, one man and one government alone cannot do. It is up to us. It is up to each individual to reverse the terrible vicious cycle that this war has created. The vicious cycle of violence: the armed struggle of the LTTE began because they felt as though they weren’t being treated with equality. But because of the war, the ethnic divide has deepened. Because of the war, racism has increased. Because of the war, some Tamils are reluctant to trust the Sinhalese and some Sinhalese are uneasy about standing in a bus with a Tamil. It is up to each one of us to end the distrust, the suspcion, the hatred, the paranoia, the bitterness towards each other. It is up to each one of us to grow bigger than revenge. It is up to each one of us to foster an atmosphere of trust, kindness and security for each other.

I hope those who left this island will return. I hope they will stop being so angry, forgive the feeling of betrayal, and return home to give Sri Lanka a chance. I hope they will see that not everyone is out to get them. I hope they understand that the longer they insist that there is no other way, there actually is no other way.

I hope we have it in us. I hope we have the sensibility, the sensitivity. I hope we have the strength, the maturity. I hope we have the determination, the commitment. I hope we have the patience to work for the change, and then that we have the good karma to live long enough to see it happen.

On the streets, I see people celebrating. Dancing, singing, eating kiribath. On local TV, there’s song after song, talk show after talk show, programme after programme about how great our troops are and how our motherland is once again a free land. Some of the talk shows were interesting, some unfortunately used this opportunity to showcase a numner of quacks who made every manner of overly dramatic, aggrandized statements about this victory. There are music vidoes which display strong Sinhalese symbols like images of a lion, kiribath, the Kandyan drum, which people are so used to believing are actually Sri Lankan symbols. Between the local news which is heavily pro GoSL and international news which is almost all heavily pro-LTTE or at least LTTE sympathetic, there’s no one who seems to know what’s really going on. To me, it seems as though all of these people have kind of missed the point.

So it’s over. The war is won. Prabhakaran is probably dead. And am I happy? I don’t know if I’m happy. I feel an enormous amount of relief, yes. I feel a certain amazement, a sense of shock and disbelief as I watch the regular news updates on all the different channels, both local and international. I feel hopeful. But mostly, it still feels surreal. It hasn’t really sunken in.

It feels deeper, more complicated. Not so simple, not so black and white. There is too much baggage, 30 years of it, in fact to be outright jumping-for-joy. It is bitter-sweet. There has been so much death and destruction and torture and trauma. This is allegedly the end to all that, but it did happen. And it is a disgrace to the memory of those that paid the price to act like it didn’t.

Am I happy that Prabhakaran could be dead? I was not happy when they executed Saddam Hussein. I believe that rejoicing about a death, even the death of a man who has terrorised a nation for almost 30 years, is shallow. It’s as shallow and egoistic as capital punishment. It doesn’t acknowledge the reality. It is just a show of power. I think there is more to be gained by learning what makes men like that tick, and trying to understand why they did what they did in order to avoid it happening again, than killing them as a public display of ones own authority. Also it’s a bit too morbid for my liking to party about someone being dead, no matter who it may be.

However, I completely understand the sentiment that many Sri Lankans must feel right now. People have a right to be happy, people have a right to be smug, even. People have a right to sing as loud as they like. Sri Lankans everywhere have suffered enough. They have a right to live in peace now. But maybe it is because I have never truly suffered because of the war that I am not rejoicing. Maybe if I’d lost someone, or had been hurt, I’d be on the streets too. Who knows?

This war has been long and hard, and in one way or another, we have all paid a price: some have paid a price bigger than others. So I think it’s a time to be looking forward for different options and looking back to everything that has been destroyed, instead of standing on the streets with these smug looks on our faces and shouting ‘SO THERE!’. It’s the adult equivalent of ‘Nyah nyah nyah boo boo, you can’t catch me’, except it’s more ‘Ha ha, we got those motherfuckers’. Sure, we defeated them, but it came at a terrible, terrible price, and it’s far too soon to forget that. It’s far too soon to forget the brave young men who died in the service of the SLA, all the innocent children, men and women who died for no reason, all the mislead, misguided young cadres of the LTTE who may have, in another life, lived perfectly content lives free of killing and being killed.

Not to be a downer. This was necessary. Maybe it was even necessary for Prabhakaran to die. This had to happen for anything else to happen in this country. I realise that. But I’m more interested in seeing what will happen now.

Things can go two ways. We can start from square one and create a system that works equally for every law-abiding Sri Lankan citizen. Which means a lot will have to be changed. From the roots, the very foundations of this country’s mindset, politics and governmental system, it will all have to change. I say this, because no matter what, no matter what anybody says, at the end of the day this war really was an ethnic conflict. And although the battle may be won, the conflict will continue unless it is resolved now. Or we can create a military state where everyone is always under careful watch and any source of dissent is ‘taken care of’, whether they be an actual potential threat to society or just someone peacefully voicing their opinion. There is no real way to tell the difference between the two kinds of people until it’s too late, so they’ll all be deemed dangerous.

So what keeps me from rejoicing yet, is that ‘What now?’ nagging me, at the back of my mind.

To me, this is more of a beginning than an end. More a crucial turning point than a final victory. It will be the decisions that will be made following this military success that will assure this island a true Sri Lankan victory in the time to come.

Hilary Clinton told Congress, “I think that the Sri Lankan Government knows that the entire world is very disappointed that in its efforts to end what it sees as 25 years of conflict, it is causing such untold suffering,”.

Of all the voices calling for a ceasefire, Hilary’s is the most whiny.

I don’t agree with the particular way in which the GoSL has handled the situation, but no one can deny its success. And maybe these things aren’t as easy and black and white as we imagine; maybe sometimes difficult decisions have to be made, and under immense pressure. Of course there is a huge humanitarian crisis, and both the LTTE and the GoSL are responsible for it. But from what I can see, at least the GoSL is trying in whatever way they can in the current circumstances to get aid to the IDPs trapped in with the Tigers. The Tigers have sat on their arses for 25 years, they haven’t done anything for the people in the North in terms of development and now they’re losing and they’re using these innocent people to prolong their defeat.

Mostly, it’s so rich that this comment comes from the Americans. They started this whole War on Terror thing, which made it fashionable to go after the terrorists and tear down entire nations in the name of doing so. What about the humanitarian crisis in the Middle East created single handedly by America’s unplanned and unwise attacks on Afghanistan and Iraq? Worse, what about the religiously and nationalistically bigoted anti-Muslim (or Moslem, as they who cannot pronounce anything properly say) culture and climate they have created worldwide? If it were the Al Quaeda we were talking about, they would see nothing wrong in going all out to defeat it, no matter what the cost. And they would not only make this seem acceptable, but noble and ‘right’; their destiny. A huge number of terribly atrocious things are justified because it’s them. But if it’s a third world country, it’s ‘oh poo, these terrible savage natives, they should be taught to care more about people.’

The SLA is guilty of terrible, terrible things. True. But why aren’t the likes of the America helping to diffuse the real situation instead of just sitting up on their moral high-horses and judging everyone?

Interestingly, there are a lot of posts on Buddhism around these days. I am a Buddhist by birth, meaning that my family is Buddhist, and I studied Buddhism in school and went to morning prayers every day at school, but I am always reluctant to say I am Buddhist. I was brought up in a fairly secular manner, meaning religion didn’t factor into my every day life, but also with exposure to all types of religion. I go to church on Chritsmas Day with my mother’s best friend and her family, and I have been taken to Hindu kovils many times too, all over the country and in India too, I’ve gone to masses and services and memorials with friends. I had the Puffin Book of Bible Stories for Children when I was little, and this great book on Jerusalem and Judaism and have read a lot of the bible in more recent years. Although I have never been directly involved with any Muslim rites or customs, I have tried to educate myself as much as possible as an adult, and have taken a great interest in reading and finding out more. My family, mainly because of my grandmother, has been pretty actively involved in ‘being Buddhist’. We go to temple and have alms givings etc. I enjoy all these customs and traditions. I don’t believe doing them is necessary to be a Buddhist, but I think they’re important. My grandfather was an academic and an Atheist and he disagreed with the concept of organised religion. But he adored my grandmother. I remember him driving her to temple, but then waiting in the car until she was done.

In Sri Lanka, religion is a pretty big deal. People actually ask you “What religion are you?” just as regularly as “Where do you work?” or “What school did you go to?”. I used to answer “Buddhist” without batting an eyelid when I was small, but now I do that less and with more reluctance. It has come to the point where I say “I’m an atheist, and I’m trying to be a Buddhist”. I say this because it is only now that I am consciously trying. And it’s harder than I thought. Of course, in Sri Lanka being a Buddhist means something very different from actually being Buddhist. We are mostly preoccupied with the rites and rituals, and are less interested in the philosophy itself. In school, they don’t really teach you the important stuff and the value of Buddhism as a philosophy. They teach you everything from how women should sit in front of priests to who the great ‘heroes’ of Buddhism are, but they leave out the best, and the hardest, bits.

In theory, Buddhism is really easy to understand because it is very practical. It’s neither optimistic nor pessimistic, instead it is utterly realistic. It’s about the truth. But Buddhism is harder to practice than most people think, because it’s about resisting the human mind’s most natural urges.

In more recent years, I have started reading about Buddhism extensively. I want to educate myself as much as possible, and in doing so, I am also trying to practice in whatever way I can. There is a comment on this post which says that the post is offensive to Buddhists and is written by an Atheist, who wouldn’t understand. Now every Buddhist is an Atheist, essentially. Atheism means the denial of the existence of a supreme being or beings, or, in other words believing that God or gods do not exist. In Sri Lanka, there is some suspicious connection between Buddhism and Hinduism and a lot of average Sri Lankans who are Buddhists still engage in worshipping the gods, making vows to them or dashing coconuts as curses against those they hate.

It’s interesting, but as far as I know, these ‘beliefs’ are fundamentally the opposite of what Buddhism teaches. And that to me is one of the most interesting things about Buddhism, is that there is no ‘faith’ factor, as such. It is not a belief. It is not a faith. Just as Atheism is not. For example, it’s not that I don’t believe that God exists, I know He doesn’t. Much in the same way, Buddhism doesn’t require faith, but more actual understanding. It’s a science, almost.

Another interesting and unique about Buddhism is that it doesn’t have morality. There is no ‘good’ and ‘bad’. There is only the truth, and the development of the mind to a point where you see the truth. If you have chosen Nirvana as your goal, and indeed it’s not for everyone, but if you have chosen that path then you can use the guidelines in the Buddha’s method and philosophy to reach it. Buddhism does not by any means undermine other ways of living. It only shows you the method of one way of living: the terms and conditions are clear and the results you can expect are also clear. And if you wish for those results, if you choose that way of life, then you have clear guidelines on how to do it. Hence there is no ‘good’ and ‘bad’, only things that will further you on that path to Nirvana, and things that will distract you from it and hinder your journey to achieving Nirvana. Hitler only had 11 million people killed because he thought they were a lesser species: a good example of the underdevelopment of the mind. If his mind had been developed enough, he would have known ‘the truth’, which is that those 11 million were not inferior. Hence, there is no sin as such, only focus and distraction, the truth and the fogging of the mind that clouds the truth, and the knowledge with which to fight this old, familiar fog.

Buddhism, in essence, is about ‘letting go’. Achieving a higher state of being through meditation requires one to categorically and strategically acknowledge and let go everything in one’s life: problems, achievements, loves, hates, family, friends, property, position, wealth, jealousies, relationships. To develop one’s mind to such a point where one is unaffected by everything, because if one can see the truth, one can see everything for what it actually is: impermanent. If one is totally unaffected, then there is no suffering. Describing the actual stages of achieving Nirvana, or the higher states of mind that are stepping stones to it (Sovahan, Rahath), the Buddha said one must let go of everything in this life. Once that has truly been achieved, one will gain the power to see into previous lives and let go of everything in those lives too. Only then can one move on to total freedom and bliss.

Buddhism is perhaps the only mainstream ‘religion’ followed even today (correct me if I am wrong) that is based totally and utterly on the actual real-life experiences of one man, and not on any abstract concepts or dodgy ideals. He acknowledged the suffering of man, and went on a mission to free himself of it. When he found enlightenment, he shared it with the world. He actually went out there and explored it himself, and experienced it himself and then told people ‘Hey, look, I tried it and it worked for me, I can teach you the method if you want, and it could work for you, too’. Which is the brilliance of it: tried and tested, with proven results, open to anybody!

Therefore Buddhism encourages us to do the same, to doubt and to wonder and to go out there and discover it ourselves. It encourages questioning, and the garnering of knowledge and wisdom through constant debate and education. It encourages one to think for himself, just as the Buddha did, and not follow blindly or unquestioningly.

The other question often raised is whether we, in our time, will ever be able to achieve Nirvana or whether the world will get to see the emergence of another Buddha. From what I’ve read, it is possible. There is nothing to stop one from achieving Nirvana if one wishes to do so. It’s not reserved for any particular people. It’s open to anyone who will commit to it.

It doesn’t take a God or a supernatural being to achieve Nirvana. After all, the Buddha was human, just a man.

Carl Anderson playing Judas Iscariot in Jesus Christ Superstar: singing the opening number “Heaven on Their Minds”.

As a very small child, there were three movies I watched almost every day. I knew all the scenes, exactly what happened when, all the words to all the songs and even all the dialogue. They were Disney’s Beauty and the Beast, The Wizard of Oz (with Judy Garland) and Jesus Christ Superstar, the film version of Andrew Lloyd Webber’s rock opera, directed by Norman Jewison. While the first two may seem like a normal choice of movies for a small child, if you’ve watched Jesus Christ Superstar you would understand that this is a little strange. But even as a child, I loved the story of the man. My heart broke for him. And for Judas.

When they first staged Jesus Christ Superstar, and later turned it into a Golden Globe Award winning film, stunning, powerful and wonderfully well performed, it was hugely controversial. It portrays Jesus as a man who is heading a movement which is getting more out of control than he can handle. It portrays Judas as Jesus’ right hand man, who is worried by the immense popularity of the Jesus movement and how that will affect the higher orders. He wishes the movement to be a strictly secular movement that merely helps the needy. Jesus, on the other hand, wants everyone to find inner peace and bids everyone to turn to a spiritual victory within oneself rather than a political victory against the Romans. His followers only want him to take on the Roman occupants and fight for their sovereignty. To them, he is saviour who will save them and their land from the Romans. Jesus despairs and is alone in his struggle, and his followers do not understand his true purpose. Judas foresees how this growing movement will upset and threaten the Romans, and warns Jesus, and in the end, ‘betrays’ him, thinking it is for his own good. Simon tells Jesus that if he leads their mob against the Romans and wins, he will become even more popular than ever: “You’ll get the power and the glory, For ever and ever and ever”.

Sadly, Jesus tells them that not one of them can understand what power is, understand what glory is, understand at all.

Even as a child, I was so saddened by how people wished to misuse Jesus and his good intentions. Even then, I understood how people wish to abuse the sanctity of religion for material and political gain.

Atheists are always beaten for not having a reference point for moral guidance, where as the religious do, in the form of their respective scriptures. I don’t know about all of the religious scriptures in the world, but I do know a fair bit about the bible. And is that really a book that you want to be giving your kids for moral guidance? It teaches revenge. It not only endorses but blesses violence against those that have a different faith. It condones genocide. It tells you you are guilty of original sin, as you are born, for no fault of your own. It constantly puts women in the same category as animals and property, but that’s the least of it. The most powerful thing about the bible, particularly the Old Testament, is the idea that your God is the only God, and anyone who believes in anything else are sinners and heathens who deserve to die.

Those who believe in God tell us atheists that it is our loss, we are the ones without the moral compass. But have atheists ever waged wars in the name of atheism? A popular argument has been that Stalin and Hitler were atheists. We aren’t even sure if that’s true about Hitler, but anyway, even if it were, the purpose of their evil was not atheism. They weren’t killing millions in the name of atheism. Hitler and Stalin may have been non-believers, but their evil was completely unconnected with their atheism. George Bush is a devout believer, Osama bin Laden is a devout believer. And their harmful intent is primarily connected with their belief in God.

Atheists are happy to just sit at home and merely not believe. We do not try to convert. We have nothing against those who do believe. We are not patronising towards the religious, although we would have great reason to be, if we wished. Our non-faith does not cost the lives of others.

I’m fairly sure that even without religion, people would find reasons to kill and hate each other. However, the scary thing is that religion is one of the few reasons that make this ‘alright’, that makes it acceptable. Religion makes a lot of things that would be otherwise considered barbaric, completely acceptable by civilised society. It makes sacrifice OK. It make revenge OK. It makes suicide (in the name of God, of course) not only OK, but a rewarded honour. It makes stoning someone to death OK. It makes aerial bombing an entire city OK. If it were the African tribes doing any of these things, it would be put down as savage and vile.

Religion makes a lot of things alright. And I have a sneaky feeling that if one were to really look at all the other reasons that people kill each other, at least on a large, ‘national’ scale, we will find that a lot of it is intrinsically connected to religion: ‘national interest’, ‘public security’, ‘the destiny of a state’, all reasons that recently have fuelled on the wars of the world. But how much do these things really have to do with public security? And how much of it is really about religion?

America’s own brand of Christian fundamentalism against the Muslim Jihad has shed a lot of light recently on religious fanaticism. This war, supposedly against terrorism but really against those with a different faith, makes religion, even that of the moderates, look worse and more irresponsible than ever before. Richard Dawkins says of religion that the most dangerous thing about it is the ‘in-group’ mentality that is, with hard work, built into most theists from a young age. Protect your own and destroy the rest. It is scary, to say the least, that we can see that this mentality has survived into modern times.

Too much heaven on people’s minds can be a dangerous thing indeed.