I am no stranger to this particular beast of prey; the subtitle of this site comes directly from a comment at a right-wing Christian website referencing me. For the most part, I have to agree with the commenter who said the issue is fanaticism, although I would disagree with the use of "political correctness" or that such a thing as fanaticism is more prevalent in religion than other aspects of human life. With a segment of fanatical Islam hell-bent on killing themselves and others as a form of politico-religious protest; with right-wing Christians killing abortion providers in the United States; with right-wing Jewish groups armed to the teeth in settlements in Palestinian lands; and, of course, with that most infamous of all fatwas, the death sentence pronounced against Salman Rushdie for The Satanic Verses (as beautiful, funny, tragic, and glorious a novel as I have ever read) - I think the kinds of protests Dr. Doniger has experienced can be called "mild".
In the comments, Michael Kruse from the Department of Languages and Culture of Asia, just up the road in Madison at UW, writes the following:
The basic issue is who gets to speak for a religious tradition. It seems to me that at the root of this and similar controversies, it is always an issue of "outsider" scholars vs. "insider" adherents. That is to say, the Hindus who are calling for the book to be banned are basing their expertise on the fact that they are Hindus, and that they therefore know the tradition better than someone who is not a Hindu, i.e. Doniger.
I think this is right. Those voices that are loudest in complaint whenever there is criticism of any religious point-of-view usually base their apologia upon their own expertise as believers. Some of the criticism of fellow-believers whose views differ, criticism that usually ends up in statements such as "blasphemy" or calling that person a "false teacher" (another epithet applied to me once upon a time), stems from the same phenomenon, viz., as believers in some sense more "authentic" than others, the views of those who do not adhere to the same principles are as illegitimate as those of an outsider who makes critical comments.
My own position, which should be pretty obvious, is that one can be an adherent to a particular set of religious beliefs and still be critical both of those beliefs and of the practices of fellow-believers. Once upon a time, I did think it OK to write out of Christian fellowship those whose beliefs differ from mine; no more. In fact, one of the most troubling aspects of my own faith is how to reconcile the reality of my own, continued, belief when all around us are examples of Christians who not only do not agree with my beliefs, but practice a kind of Christianity that is directly antithetical to those beliefs (spout hatred of minority groups; espouse and practice violence; apologize for those who kill and maim in the name of the one we call the Prince of Peace). All I can do is repent for my own continued belief, yet lamentably agree that these others are, indeed, Christian. The history of our faith is far too bloody to deny it.
I think, then, the dichotomy between critical outsiders and faithful insiders is misleading. There are those who fully live within a religious tradition and are yet critical both of much of its stated beliefs and many of its practices. As Scott makes clear about Doniger's book, she shows that Hinduism - like the Abrahamic faiths, and perhaps most religious traditions that are long enough in duration - can be used to support contradictory practices. This should be enough to persuade even one as ignorant as myself that the rich tradition of Hinduism is a marvelous treasure to be explored more fully.* Those who protest Doniger's book, like those Muslims who protested a scandalous cartoon in Europe a few years back, or right-wing Christians who got upset at Martin Scorsese's The Last Temptation of Christ, or what have you, are to be expected. For many people, one's religious beliefs are so deeply intertwined in one's sense of who one is that a general discussion of a set of religious dogma and practices that might draw attention to the less-than-perfectly-virtuous aspects of them seems like a personal attack. I do not think we owe them an apology; just an explanation that being critical is not the same thing as attacking that set of beliefs.
After all, I am pretty critical of much of what passes for Christian thought and practice, yet I, too, am a Christian. It is possible to be a critical adherent to a set of religious beliefs.
*I like Scott's use of The Song of Songs in his discussion. My wife and I used a selection from Chapter 8 as the Scripture text for our wedding.
