OPINION
Human Rights: All of us are Partners in Crime Have human rights become no more than just pious assertions on pieces of paper? BY TARIQ SHAH
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n December 7, 2020, the U.S., positioning itself as a nation founded by those fleeing religious persecution, designated Burma/ Myanmar, China, Eritrea, Iran, Nigeria, North Korea, Pakistan, Saudi Arabia, Tajikistan and Turkmenistan as “Countries of Particular Concern” under the International Religious Freedom Act of 1998, as amended, for engaging in or tolerating “systematic, ongoing, egregious violations of religious freedom.” But this is a list of convenience. Missing, along with other countries, is India. Why? Because India is a major market that corporate America covets. Among its recent violations is New Delhi’s enactment of laws that single out Muslims as well as acts such as the destruction of a mosque during former President Trump’s visit. This does not even begin to capture India’s long history of human rights violations in the disputed state of Kashmir. When it comes to human rights violations, all faith traditions and nations are partners in crime. Our minorities exist because our majorities permit them the luxury of an oft-demeaning life; the majority can withdraw this benevolence whenever it decides to do so. The 1948 Universal Declaration of Human Rights (UDHR; https://www.un.org/ en/universal-declaration-human-rights/) promised to be “the foundation of freedom, justice, and peace in the world,” since peace is impossible without freedom and justice. Scholars of different faiths and of no faith have argued that the Asian, Hindu, Islamic, African or Christian concepts of human rights predate and are superior to those that form the framework of this mostly secular declaration. This declaration was intended to make people conscious not only of their rights, but also of the rights of their fellow beings. Article 1 states, “Everyone is entitled to all the rights and freedoms set forth in this Declaration, without distinction of any kind, such as race, color, sex, language, religion, political or other opinion, national or social origin, property, birth or other status.” Believers have made competing claims that their particular religion has a better track record of protecting minorities’ human rights and that their worldview reflects superior human rights principles. This perhaps explains the existence of such regional variants as the European Convention on Human Rights (1953), the Helsinki Declaration (1975), the African Charter on Human and Peoples’ Rights (1981), the Cairo Declaration on Human Rights in Islam (1990), the Arab Charter on Human Rights (1994) and the Asian Human Rights Charter (1998). Because each of these embody some of the human rights ideals voiced in the UDHR, one might posit the existence of a widespread, if not a nearly universal, consensus regarding the protection of rights of religious and ethnic minorities. But the reality is markedly different, as there is a gap between principles and practice. Are these coveted human rights ideals even worth the paper they are written on if they are not duly implemented? Such meaningless claims are of no consolation to those minorities who are facing real majoritarian abuse. It’s not what Muslims, Jews, Christians or other faith traditions say about human dignity or human rights that matters, but what they do. Many would argue it’s not because of the major religions’ teachings, but rather in spite of them, that a small minority of their followers target minorities. 52 ISLAMIC HORIZONS MARCH/APRIL 2021
Where is the majority’s collective outrage when a minority of their fellow believers witness acts of injustice? Where, for example, is the universal Muslim outrage when a Pakistani forcibly converts a non-Muslim — a clear violation of Quranic teachings? Where is the Hindu outcry when Hindu mobs in India lynch Muslims suspected of eating beef, although India is one of the world’s top beef-exporting countries? Where is the Buddhist expression of horror when Myanmar’s army pursues and exiles its Rohingya Muslims despite Buddhism’s message of “loving-kindness and compassion” toward others? Where is the Jewish uproar when Israeli soldiers run roughshod over Palestinian civilians, despite their own long history of suffering? And where is the collective Christian outrage when Jews are subjected to murderous right-wing bigotry, given Christianity’s claims on deep biblical roots of human rights ideals? Clearly, none of these faith traditions by themselves can serve as a benchmark to measure our individual and collective commitment to protecting human rights. In short, we all have our extremists and terrorists. As the famous atheistic Arab poet Abul Ala Al-Ma’arri (c. 973-1058) said, They all err — Muslims, Jews, / Christians, and Zoroastrians: / Humanity follows two worldwide sects: / One, man intelligent without religion, / The second, religious without intellect. We share the guilt of crimes against humanity when we silently observe violence in the name of religion. If we don’t speak up when such violations occur, who will speak up for us when we suffer the same fate? The
