When I was a cartoonist for my college newspaper, I never drew a caricature of the prophet Mohammad. I did, however, become the object of hate and disgust after drawing a cartoon on abortion. It was a simple drawing: an expectant mother is surrounded by angry, sign-wielding people; the fetus is shown in a "cutaway" view, and the caption is "The silent abortion protestor." Boy, did I pay dearly for that one.
I had also written a few (mostly humorous) columns for the paper, and the two most outspoken campus groups against me and my cartoon clipped out my photo, wrote hateful things and plastered copies across campus – particularly in the women's restrooms. They altered my cartoon in another version of the fliers, similarly distributed. Their beef was they thought I was attacking women, especially those who may have had abortions, and that I was infringing on their rights. A college newspaper, they said, was not the proper place for such an opinion.
The presidents of those two groups wrote letters to the editor, which were published, but that was after they stormed the newsroom and demanded a retraction. They didn't get it. The editor at the time, a woman who still I consider a friend, was a strong supporter of abortion rights. Yet she understood freedom of opinions – the diversity of which made our newspaper great. I was afforded space to draft a response, in which I said the intent was not to villify anyone but to give a voice to the voiceless. I knew it wouldn't change anyone's mind, and I knew it would ruffle some feathers at the liberal arts university. Yes, the liberal artists were restless.
The writers of the U.S. Constitution also realized that differing ideas, and the media's ability to cover them, would lend a colorful, rich flavor to democracy. So far, the experiment is working quite well – arguably, of course. For those outside of the country, realize that the United States itself is greater than the sum of its leadership. Not all of us like what is going on in all aspects of the political arena, but we know that the country will survive. Maybe we'll come out stronger on the other side.
It's hard to understand, having lived forever in a country that strives for freedom, and having always been taught the principles of Christianity (eventually embracing them), why Muslims are so distraught over the publication of caricatures of Mohammad in a Danish newspaper. No depictions – favorable or no – are allowed of the prophet, according to the religion. But how the infraction of misguided pen and paper has led to calls for violence and murder, it makes one wonder what the religion truly stands for. Peace and love have packed their bags and are booking a flight elsewhere, it would seem. Common sense has likewise hit the road. In a broader sense, it shows the chasm that exists between east and west even in this supposed "information age." I'm not sure freedom of the press is worth the hornet's nest in the wake of the cartoon's publication, in which lives have already been lost.
It seems even more outlandish that Iranian bakers have officially changed the name of in-country favorite "Danish pastries" to "Roses of the Prophet Mohammad." Notably, I think it was dumb to attempt to change french fries to "Freedom Fries" like some Americans did a few years ago, but whatever. We've got some Roses of the Prophet Mohammad butter cookies in the office, and I must say they are delicious. But that's beside this rather rambling point.
The point is: We will never agree, so let's stop fighting about it. That goes for the abortion issue, and for the eons-long Christian-Muslim debacle. Women have a legal right to abortions in the United States, but I don't have to like it. Me praying to Jesus isn't meant to soil your notion of Mohammad, and you don't have to like that.
I am friends with some women who had to make that difficult choice to terminate pregnancies. I don't have to like the choice because it's really none of my business. They need love and support – maybe moreso – just like everyone else. Siding briefly with students who wanted me strung up from the highest tree on campus, I'll say as a man I won't ever fully understand that difficult choice.
But as a parent, I know joys beyond measure that come when God grants us the privilege of offspring. And because of that, I'd draw that cartoon again.
