A remarkable global initiative was launched last week in the UAE. The Sheikh Mohammed bin Rashid Award for Tolerance and the establishment of the International Institute for Tolerance were both announced by Sheikh Mohammed, the Vice President and Ruler of Dubai. Coming as they do soon after the National Tolerance Programme, the UAE Charter of Tolerance, Coexistence and Peace and, indeed, the appointment of the world’s first Minister of Tolerance, Sheikha Lubna Al Qasimi, the country is making clear its commitment to support the values of tolerance, moderation and openness.
These are all to be applauded, not least because tolerance is a virtue in danger of being overlooked and underexamined. At first glance, the opposite may seem to be the case. Surely everyone – with the exception of a global minority of extremists – is in favour of it? That may be the case, but it is often a case of lip service, a shallow allegiance to a value that is not truly put into practice.
Britain’s prime minister, Theresa May, has talked about “tolerance for other people” as being a key value, for instance. But only last week her home secretary, Amber Rudd, said she was considering forcing businesses to disclose the proportion of foreigners they were employing. This possible “name and shame” move was, in the light of the British tradition, considered so intolerant that Ms Rudd’s own brother condemned it.
Then there is the need to define tolerance and to assert what it is not. Is it a mere sentiment of respect? Does it need to be enshrined by legislating a certain status to minority ethnic or faith groups? If so, what happens to ones that are left out?
The Indonesian constitution declares that “every person shall be free to choose and to practise the religion of his/her choice”. However, the government only recognises six religions and does not recognise atheism. Is that an example of tolerance or intolerance?
What tolerance is not – but is often mistaken for – is indifference. As the UN secretary general Ban Ki-moon has put it: “Tolerance does not mean indifference or grudging acceptance of others. It is a way of life based on mutual understanding and respect for others, and on the belief that global diversity is to be embraced, not feared.”
This is a very important distinction, and one that underlines that tolerance is not the same as “anything goes” libertarianism, or the currently voguish individualism that claims validity for every form of self-expression, and condemns every negative judgment as a violation of human rights.
Genuine tolerance is actually very hard work, because it doesn’t mean putting aside your own beliefs, or saying that all beliefs are equal, or something similarly vacuous. Since you retain your ability to judge – the suspension of which would be an abdication of reasoning and choice – it requires according some degree of respect and protection to things that you think are actively wrong or mistaken.
One example of the opposite is the way that in many countries – in Europe, certainly – left wingers view right wingers. The conservative philosopher Roger Scruton once put it to me thus: “Left-wing people find it very hard to get on with right-wing people, because they believe that they are evil. Whereas I have no problem getting on with left-wing people, because I simply believe that they are mistaken. After a while, if I can persuade them that I'm not evil, I find it a very useful thing. I know that my views on many things are open to correction. But if you can’t discuss with your opponents, how can you correct your views?”
Tolerance would allow you to say that you think that conservatives promoted policies with evil consequences. But it would require you to accept that people hold those views while not necessarily being wicked themselves, might feel they had very good reasons to hold those views, and they also have every right to hold them. Is that so very difficult? For some people, yes.
It is clear that tolerance in practice cannot be one-size-fits-all. We must recognise that it is society-specific. Recently nine young Australians stripped to what they call their “budgie-smugglers” – rather skimpy swimming shorts – at the Malaysian Formula 1 Grand Prix. The insult to public decency was compounded by the shorts bearing the Malaysian flag, a national symbol that is taken very seriously.
When the offenders were detained for a few days, one or two voices in the Australian media tried to paint Malaysia as being intolerant because of their treatment. Fortunately their government recognised otherwise – that it was simply a question of respecting local sensitivities in a conservative, Muslim-majority country. The Malaysian reaction did not denote intolerance.
Given that characterisation, Malaysia is a remarkable example of tolerance. I still marvel every time I go to a mall in Kuala Lumpur at the fact that there is a restaurant outside it called Three Little Pigs and the Big Bad Wolf – and that the neighbouring building is a mosque.
But given the country’s unique mixture of ethnicities and faiths, this is the kind of tolerance that the dominant race and religion – Malay Muslims – have to display in the interests of social cohesion, and do so happily for the most part.
So there must be limits to tolerance in every country. It does not mean an absence of judgment. It does not mean a free for all or a discarding of moral norms. But it does mean accepting a great deal that you might personally find offensive. That makes it a great effort.
But it is an effort that fits with the Quranic injunction: “We have made you tribes and nations that you may know one another.” For that, the UAE and Sheikh Mohammed deserve our gratitude and applause. All of us should wish the prize and the institute every success. For tolerance is essential to us knowing other tribes and nations – and living at peace with them.
Sholto Byrnes is a senior fellow at the Institute of Strategic and International Studies Malaysia