As I’ve said before, the popular mantra that God belongs in the home and not in government is a slap in the face to religion everywhere. It unfairly holds religious ideas to a different standard than the various political, social, and moral ideologies regularly paraded into the public sphere. The uproar over the Danish cartoon is yet another example of how poor Western secularists understand religion. Stanley Fish makes this point in today’s NY Times:

The first tenet of the liberal religion is that everything (at least in the realm of expression and ideas) is to be permitted, but nothing is to be taken seriously. This is managed by the familiar distinction — implied in the First Amendment’s religion clause — between the public and private spheres. It is in the private sphere — the personal spaces of the heart, the home and the house of worship — that one’s religious views are allowed full sway and dictate behavior.

But in the public sphere, the argument goes, one’s religious views must be put forward with diffidence and circumspection. You can still have them and express them — that’s what separates us from theocracies and tyrannies — but they should be worn lightly. Not only must there be no effort to make them into the laws of the land, but they should not be urged on others in ways that make them uncomfortable. What religious beliefs are owed — and this is a word that appears again and again in the recent debate — is “respect”; nothing less, nothing more.

The problem, as Fish exposes, is that public ambivalence toward religion is not only condescending, but self-refuting. Insofar as this attitude resembles a religion of its own, it’s a completely inadequate response to the Muslim world.

The argument from reciprocity — you do it to us, so how can you complain if we do it to you? — will have force only if the moral equivalence of “us” and “you” is presupposed. But the relativizing of ideologies and religions belongs to the liberal theology, and would hardly be persuasive to a Muslim.

This is why calls for “dialogue,” issued so frequently of late by the pundits with an unbearable smugness — you can just see them thinking, “What’s wrong with these people?” — are unlikely to fall on receptive ears. The belief in the therapeutic and redemptive force of dialogue depends on the assumption (central to liberalism’s theology) that, after all, no idea is worth fighting over to the death and that we can always reach a position of accommodation if only we will sit down and talk it out.

But a firm adherent of a comprehensive religion doesn’t want dialogue about his beliefs; he wants those beliefs to prevail. Dialogue is not a tenet in his creed, and invoking it is unlikely to do anything but further persuade him that you have missed the point — as, indeed, you are pledged to do, so long as liberalism is the name of your faith.