The Hat seldom strays
into politics or religion but as someone whose long serving and most
powerful weapon is his pen, the events in Paris bring me to the page
both full of sadness and full of rage.
Sadness at the
pointlessness of it all. Sadness at the ruthless nature of such a
pointless crime and sadness in the knowledge that such an act will do
nothing, change nothing and serve no particular end that can be
understood by the sane and rational. It will polarise positions,
which may well be one of the purposes of such barbarism, but, far
more importantly, it will also power the resolve of those who stand
together and joined in abhorrence at the event and its apparent
objective.
The idea that the gun
can obliterate the word is absurd. It always has been absurd.
It has been tried
countless times throughout history. Imprisonment, exile, torture and
death have been used over and over again but in the end, at the final
reckoning, the word will get through. On the backs of envelopes,
graffitied on walls, in erudite books and in colourful, cheerful,
subversive magazines. Those that speak out, write, draw against any
human injustice or absurdity have always been vulnerable. It has
always been thus.
The pen terrifies those
that abuse power. The superb Pen International and Amnesty have case
files that fill rooms defending those who have been persecuted for
exercising that Right to Write. You do not have to be famous and
defiant to be locked up in a Russian Gulag. As we saw today, you can
be a French cartoonist going about his business, making us laugh and
pricking the balloons.
To be frightened in the
face of a cartoonist, a satirist, a writer who puts his or her finger
up and presses smartly on your sore spot is to show an insecurity and
weakness in your case. If you can only defend yourself with an AK-47
your case is already dead. Cartoonists and satirists were beating up
the Pope in the sixteenth century. Swift, Gilray and Cruikshank
carried on and duffed up the Politicians and the Pompous Royals. The
Onion and The Daily Show are proud standard bearers. It is something
the English are particular good at. When did giving John Major grey y-fronts become an excuse for murder? Charlton Heston as God or
Moses is a far worse offence.
That is my sadness.
Sadness that the fear of the written word is yet again used as an
excuse for a violent attack on our freedoms. Sadness for the family
and friends of those struck down so casually and cynically. Sadness
for those who think that such an act in the name of any religion can do
any good, change anything, move anyone an inch towards their
convictions. If ever there was a time to raise your pen and tell them
where to stick their blood-soaked automatics, this is it.
The rage I will keep to
myself.