Tag Archives: atheism

Context here. In his latest response (link) Michael denies that he has supporters:

“Some people seem to think that I have ‘supporters’ on my blog. I don’t. People choose to comment on my blog based on their own agency. Sometimes they support things I say, sometimes not.”

According to this standard, people could only be said to be supporters of Michael if he was in some way in control of their minds, an absurd and implausible defence.

The below material largely speaks for itself and I encourage people to disseminate this information as widely as possible. I encourage those involved in Atheist Ireland who are concerned by my treatment to raise the matter internally within Atheist Ireland. A folder containing all of the screenshots I have taken relating to this situation can be found here: (link)

(My pronoun is ‘they’, the individuals below are aware of my trans status and correct pronoun)

Harassment on

Note that tina, Shatterface and Steersman have been commenting persistently in Michael’s defence on his blog since this post.

1 2 3 4 5 6 7

(full size images here)


Note that all of the below material remains on Michael’s website as of 16:00 22/02/16 Some of the more egregious material seems to have been deleted at some point in the last 24 hours, which would imply that the below has been read by Michael and remains on his site regardless.


1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9

Originally published in Irish Anarchist Review #9

Extermination or communism is the choice – but this communism must be more than just the sharing of wealth (who wants all this shit?) – it must inaugurate a whole new way of working together. Felix Guattari & Toni Negrii

As I sat down to begin writing this piece, an article appeared in the Guardian titled ‘Nasa-funded study: industrial civilisation headed for ‘irreversible collapse’?’ii, whose central claim was that “global industrial civilisation could collapse in coming decades due to unsustainable resource exploitation and increasingly unequal wealth distribution”. What was striking, to me, about this article was that it contained absolutely nothing new. Prophesies of impending disaster – not just climatic, but ecological, economic and social too – are common currency in contemporary society, and for most practical purposes vary only in the rhetorical intensity with which they restate the same basic truth. Everyone knows, at least in impressionistic terms, what is happening, and what is at stake: things simply can’t continue as they are if human civilisation is to survive, and what’s more this is no longer a question of securing a future for our grandchildren – it’s us, my generation, human beings that currently live on this planet, who are imminently faced with the disappearance of the necessary conditions for our existence.

Within 30 seconds, I had already clicked to another tab, and was scrolling through a Buzzfeed list of funny cat pictures. This is the absurdity of our condition: never in history has a civilisation been aware, in such detail and with such certainty, of the imminence of its own demise, and yet the dominant cultural concern of our society, around which our intellectual and technological capabilities are organised, seems to be the production, transmission and refinement of banal clickbait, the perfection of the meme as the ideal unit of contentless communication in a political economy of commodified mass distraction. Increasingly, the political and cultural forms that might allow us to grapple collectively with such crucial questions simply don’t exist. Never before have human beings had such a capacity to communicate collectively on the major questions that face us, and yet it seems we have nothing to say to one another on what is surely the central problem of our time: how to ensure not just the survival but the flourishing of the human species; how to transform a form of social organisation that is bent on self-destruction to make the Earth livable and life on Earth worth living.

What would it mean, collectively and politically, to face up to these questions? How do we come to terms with the traumatic knowledge of our own contingency, and transform this knowledge into a basis for empowerment? How do we confront the terror of ecological catastrophe, comprehending fully its implications, and yet meet it with defiance and hope? What are the conditions of possibility for such a collective encounter, and what can we do to bring them about? These are, clearly, enormous questions, to which I can only offer the flimsiest sketch of an answer. My more modest ambition for this piece is simply to pose the right set of questions, to argue for an understanding of what is at stake that refocuses the classic anarchist question “how do we create together a world that we would want to live in?” with a new emphasis and urgency. I will begin by interrogating some of the dominant mainstream and leftist political responses to the ecological crisis, against which I will then attempt to sketch a positive and radical (in the sense of grasping the root) political understanding of the issue.

Theosophies of catastrophe

The failure of culture to adequately deal with the problem of ecological catastrophe is hardly surprising, for a number of reasons. Perhaps most obviously, all of the main social, economic and political powers are directly dependent on the destructive processes of capitalist production to sustain their position, and are therefore highly invested in the promotion of all sorts of mystifications and non-solutions, which preserve the structure in the immediate term, even at the expense of human survival. The traumatic nature of the knowledge we are now confronted with also inevitably leads to displacements and sublimations as a means of self-defence: the problem is warded off by reformulating it in a more comfortable mode, thereby reducing anxiety. Moreover, ecological catastrophe is what Timothy Morton refers to as a “hyperobject”, that is, something so “massively distributed in time and space relative to humans” that it confounds our regular ways of knowing and thinking about objects,iii forcing us to construct new and uncertain ways of thinking the world we now inhabit. It is due to the interplay of these factors, I suggest, that most individual and collective political responses to the ecological crisis have tended to revert to essentially religious modes of thought:iv

Faith – Numerous faith-based responses to the prospect of ecological catastrophe proliferate in contemporary culture. New Atheist scientism, transhumanism, green capitalism, the neoliberal cult of entrepreneurialism, and the like, all essentially produce the same response: scientific and technological innovation, coupled with the appropriate tweaks to market incentive structures, will somehow manage to save us just in the nick of time. The problem is thus effectively displaced onto the big Other, and our role is simply to trust in the institutions of capitalist society to deliver us from danger, or, perhaps, to mobilise to put pressure on these institutions to produce the correct set of reforms and innovations, without challenging the underlying social relations. In this understanding, technological development is intrinsically liberatory, the issue is simply that of reaching the appropriate level of technological development and of deriving the appropriate policy programme to utilise it. Of course, the fatal flaw of this way of thinking is that there is no intrinsic link between technological development and liberation. Technology is a social product: new technologies do not exist in an as-yet-unrealised form waiting to be discovered, they must be produced by a creative activity that is embedded in a set of social relations that determine its form and purpose. Moreover, technologies do not by themselves determine their use: that too depends on the kind of society that utilises them (in our case, a capitalist society whose orienting principle is the accumulation of capital). For example, the development of renewable energy technologies has not determined a shift away from the burning of fossil fuels: by all accounts, capitalist society seems determined to exploit fossil fuel sources to the point of exhaustion (with well-known consequences) as the current global push for the use of fracking technology surely demonstrates – renewables instead function alongside fossil fuels, allowing for greater expansion of economic activity. In other words, technological development cannot offer hope so long as society is organised according to a logic that ensures the willful destruction of nature: the subordination all life on Earth to the profit motive.

Anti-capitalist versions of this technological utopianism exist too, however, and are equally faith-based in their insistence on posing the problem of ecology as essentially a scientific/technological rather than a political problem. Perhaps the most lucid and exciting elaboration of this point of view in recent times is the #ACCELERATE Manifesto,v whose hypothesis, as summed up by Toni Negri, is that “liberation must occur within the evolution of capital; that labour power must move against the blockage caused by capitalism; that a complete reversal of the class relation must be accomplished by the pursuit of constant economic growth and technological evolution”vi in order to produce “an alternative modernity that neoliberalism is inherently unable to generate”.vii The most telling aspect of the manifesto is that the authors raise at the very beginning the problem of climactic breakdown, only to immediately push it aside in order to talk about technology, without even the most meagre attempt to hint at a solution. Clearly we are meant to conclude that this problem can be safely subsumed into that of liberating the technological potential blocked by capitalism, that the resolution of all existential threats to civilisation is simply the inevitable side effect of doggedly pursuing the technological promise that capitalism is incapable of delivering on. But is this the case? It would seem that the manifesto’s argument is underpinned by the same old teleological fallacy that Marx inherited from Hegel: that of the progressive movement of history towards ever greater liberation through the development of the productive forces – a relic of a time when the endless development of material production could be stated unproblematically as a goal because the Earth was still for all practical purposes infinite. The society we live in today, on the other hand, is one threatened with annihilation by the determinate limits of humanity’s domination of nature – a society that has a future only if it can find a way to break with the tendency towards the endless expansion of the world of things, and to subordinate the productive forces to a qualitatively different conception of the good. In the end, accelerationism is simply the mirror image of capitalist ideology’s veneration of technological innovation as good in itself.

Sacrifice – One of the major projects of neoliberal capitalism has been the progressive weakening of social ties, to produce increasingly isolated and atomised individuals, and with it, the demise of collective political agency. How does such an isolated individual respond to an existential threat that is so much larger than her? One of the oldest forms of religious practice arises out of precisely this problem: how does one gain control over that against which one is utterly powerless? The answer is: one performs gestures of sacrifice, ostensibly aimed at controlling the uncontrollable forces, but which in fact operate only to relieve one’s anxiety. Recycling, organic food, ethical consumerism, dietary veganism, reducing one’s carbon footprint, and, at the extreme, dropping out of society to live in closer harmony with nature: surely these are our modern day sacrificial tokens, our futile attempts to live wrong life rightly. We know, deep down at least, that these are utterly insufficient, that capitalism simply marches on regardless – indeed incorporates our gestures into the logic of accumulation by extracting extra profit from supposedly ethical consumption – that there is no plausible causal relationship between the acts we perform and the ends we imagine them to be producing, and yet we convince ourselves that by the sheer force of our will and our ethical rightness that we are achieving something, or, at least, that when civilisation finally tips over the brink that we are not the ones to blame (some comfort). The truth is that there are no individual solutions: we either find a way to intervene collectively and decisively to break with the present social order, or we are reduced to mere tokenism.

Oneness with nature, the non-hippy version

Man [sic] lives from nature, i.e. nature is his body, and he must maintain a continuing dialogue with it if he is not to die. To say that man’s physical and mental life is linked to nature simply means that nature is linked to itself, for man is a part of nature.” Karl Marxviii

[W]e make no distinction between man [sic] and nature: the human essence of nature and the natural essence of man become one within nature in the form of production or industry, just as they do within the life of man as a species. Industry is then no longer considered from the extrinsic point of view of utility, but rather from the point of view of its fundamental identity with nature as production of man and by man. Not man as the king of creation , but rather as the being who is in intimate contact with the profound life of all forms or all types of beings… the eternal custodian of the machines of the universe.” Gilles Deleuze & Felix Guattariix

Environmentalism: the question is posed wrong from the beginning. There is no external object called “the environment” to which another object called “society” must relate. The question of the environmental crisis cannot be posed separately from that of society, as if it were some alien entity attacking us from the outside. At every point in history, human society is that which we have forged from the transformation of nature, and nature is that on which we depend for our continued existence; nature is part of human society and human society is part of nature. We exist in a state of profound interdependence with all forms of life – a condition we are unable to transcend, but merely develop in one direction or another. Our relations to one-another are predicated on particular relations to nature. The waged labour relation that is fundamental to capitalism required our estrangement from nature: the violent dispossession and expulsion of peasants from the land, and the enclosure of nature, its constitution as an object to be dominated and exploited was the founding event of capitalist society, a process intimately linked with the suppression and enclosure of women.x

Traditionally, environmentalists have tended to pose the question of how to prevent catastrophe as separate from questions of how humans are to relate to each other. This has tended to mean that environmentalism has confronted us as a rather bleak, desperate and negative discourse:

‘We must act today to save tomorrow’ is the cry of the global greens. Great sacrifices must be made immediately for a reward launched far into the distant future. But such a reward it is! Yes, it may be far away now, but one day, dear friend, you may not be flooded! You may not starve! You might not even suffer more than you do already! Such is the dismal promise of environmentalism.”xi

Indeed, this framing, due to its artificial restriction of the problem to be considered, has often tended to produce a push towards economism and away from the consideration of the intersecting forms of exploitation and domination that produce our social reality, towards compromise with authoritarian forms of organisation, and towards a joyless and debilitating seriousness in the name of urgency. Viewed this way, it seems obvious that all sorts of compromises must be made with systems of domination in order that decisive action be taken to “save the planet”.

The problem is, the question is posed entirely backwards. We cannot think of taking decisive action against the destruction of nature separately from the transformation of the social relations that both arise from and reproduce the domination of nature by humans. The question rather is: what form of society is consistent with the desire to live not merely from nature, but in and with nature? What kinds of subjectivities and forms of social organisation allow us to live not as exploiters of the natural world, nor under the exploitation of others? What desires and potentials exist in our current world that could form the beginnings of such a world? Clearly, we must have done with the negative environmentalisms that operate on guilt and fear, and that offer nothing but the postponement of death. We must have done also with all the false consolations of magical thinking that keep us invested in a political system that can only fail us. Clearly, what we need is an anti-capitalism, but it cannot be one that simply takes over production and runs it more democratically. (In any case what system could outmatch modern capitalism in the production of endless junk?) What we need, instead, is an environmentalism that can begin to articulate the creation of a world that is actively desirable, a world where we are freed from pointless toil by the reorientation of the values and purpose driving production and by the judicious use of technology, a world vastly enriched in its cultural life and its possibilities for pleasure because we no longer spend all our time at work or recovering from work, a world in which difference is not longer transformed into antagonism by apparatuses of violence and domination, a world in which nature is neither to be feared nor dominated but experienced. In short: a world in which humanity will finally become possible.

i Félix Guattari & Toni Negri, Communists Like Us, p.13

ii Nafeez Ahmed, “Nasa-funded study: industrial civilisation headed for ‘irreversible collapse’?”, The Guardian, 14 March 2014. The study itself seems to be based on somewhat dubious Malthusian reasoning, but my interest in it is primarily as a cultural element rather than as a scientific work. See Ian Angus, ‘What did that ‘NASA-funded collapse study’ really say?’

iii Timothy Morton, Hyperobjects: Philosophy and Ecology After the End of the World.

iv I have ignored climate change deniers and the like here, as everyone should.

v Alex Williams and Nick Srnicek, #ACCELERATE: Manifesto for an accelerationist politics,

vi Antonio Negri, Some Reflections on the #ACCELERATE MANIFESTO,

vii Williams & Srnicek, op. cit.

viii Karl Marx, Economic and Philosophical Manuscripts.

ix Gilles Deleuze & Felix Guattari, Anti-Oedipus, pp.4-5

x See Silvia Fedirici, Caliban and the Witch.

xi Out of the Woods, Goodbye to the Future,

This is a piece I started to write in the aftermath of the killing of a British soldier in Woolwich in May. For various reasons I stopped writing about halfway through and no longer remember precisely what it was I wanted to say. Nonetheless, I’ve decided to do my best to finish it, as I feel there were useful ideas in the piece which I should publish.

The reaction to the politically-motivated killing of a British soldier in Woolwich is an interesting and important moment in the history of British racism. Naively, one might have expected that the most obvious racial aspect to the attack, around which a racist moral panic might coalesce, was the African racial characteristics of the two men responsible: Michael Olumide Adebolajo, and Michael Oluwatobi Adebowale, both of Nigerian descent. It would seem inevitable, one might have thought, given the black skin of the attackers, that long-established racist discourses of savage, violent, animalistic African men would have resurfaced to form the basis of race-based explanations of what had occurred. What happened instead was altogether different: the British state, media and public began almost at once to search for a kernel of ‘Islamic extremism’ around which to build a narrative, looking, if not quite past, through the skin of the suspects to see if it in fact concealed the essence of The Muslim. More or less the same search for The Muslim played out in the case of the Boston Marathon bombing recently, and of the Utoya killings, which turned out to be the work of a white fascist. Subsequently we have seen a nearly 1000% increase in attacks on Muslims, including the firebombing of mosques, and demonstrations by a newly-revitalised EDL across England.

This, I think, tells us something important about the shape of racism in 2013, not just in Britain, but across Europe and ‘the West’. Faced with an event with two fairly distinct possible racist interpretations – ‘violent Africans’ and ‘Muslim terrorists’ – the dominant culture overwhelmingly opted for the latter rendering. To simplify for a moment, we might understand the former as ‘biological essentialism’ – the idea that race has a biological basis and meaning; that all black people, for example, possess common and non-superficial biological traits that in some way determine their behaviour and place in the world – and the latter as ‘cultural essentialism’ – that the basis of race lies in the superiority of certain cultures over others; to use the same example, that black people’s subordinated status results from the backwardness of African culture(s) compared to Westerners – although, as we shall see, this distinction is much harder to make in practice. The first thing we can say about anti-Muslim racism, then, is that it would appear to signify a shift in racist discourse, a break from biological essentialism to a racism that resides entirely within the realm of culture. No one is born a Muslim, there are no Muslim genes, and Muslims exist within a wide variety of ‘biological’ racial categories, including whites. This is not to say, however, that biological characteristics such as skin pigmentation no longer function as racial signifiers, that dark skin no longer attracts the racialising gaze of white society, merely that they now point to one’s cultural rather than biological destiny: brown skin marks one out as a potential terrorist, rather than as a biological inferior.

For anti-racists, this raises important question regarding how we understand and talk about race and racism. What exactly is race? What does it mean to say something – an idea, a practice, a group, an institution, a system – is racist? Given that a culture is composed of ideas and practices, how does one respond to the claim that it is not a group of people but an ideology that is being criticised and attacked? Are we talking about racism at all or is it something else: ‘Islamophobia’? These are not new questions, but they are questions that pose themselves with a new urgency in the face of organised racist violence across the UK.

I think it’s of vital importance, both strategically and theoretically, that anti-Muslim racism is not partitioned off as ‘Islamophobia’, even rhetorically. To understand ‘Islamophobia’ as somehow distinct from racism is to accept the terms dictated by the culturalist racism of the right: that racism is about biological categories which, they mostly accept, albeit reluctantly, are not valid, but that cultural ‘criticism’ is an entirely different matter. From that starting point, it is easy to paint opposition to ‘Islamophobia’ as wooly-headed liberalism or repressive political-correctness. It is vital that Muslims are able to lay claim to the term ‘racism’, with all of its cultural weight built up over years of struggle, to describe their experiences and their situation. In any case, racism has never been simply an ideology of biological superiority – it has always involved claims about cultural superiority. If we consider Nazi anti-Semitism, while the Jews were cast as biological inferiors, and thus a threat to the purity of the Aryan race, it also involved a set of claims about Jewish culture – their cosmopolitanism, their decadent intellectualism, their imputed disloyalty to the nation, their greed – which cast Jews as an immanent threat to the nation. As a result of the horrors of the Holocaust, the collapse of scientific racism and the agitation of postcolonial and anti-racist movements, racism has been forced to gradually shed its bio-essentialist baggage and make a strategic shift to the terrain of culture. If anti-Muslim racism appears to be entirely divorced of biological content, this can only be understood as the outcome of a long-term strategic shift by the right, and not as an entirely new and separate phenomenon.

It would be equally reductive, however, to assume that anti-Muslim racism is merely the old biological racism in new clothes, and to use this as the basis for an anti-racist opposition to state racism and the far-right. ‘Muslim’ is not simply a code for this or that ethnic group (e.g. Arabs, south Asians, people from the Middle East etc.) but a racial category in itself. It is not the case that ‘critique of Islam’ is new packaging for the same old racist content but rather that certain critiques of Islam are in themselves the content of a new modality of racism – that political opposition to Islam as an ideology is the primary discursive mechanism by which Muslims are constituted as a race in Western societies. Outside of the lunatic fringes of the right, there are few who believe in the biological superiority of whites. An anti-racism that aims at mapping anti-Muslim racism onto old racial discourses is unlikely to have much success: those who engage in racist framings of Muslims are unlikely to recognise themselves as covert white supremacists, even if those framings can be shown to be white supremacist in their effects.

This means that the ideological front of the fight against racism is significantly more complex than it has been in the past. It is relatively easy to win the argument that it is wrong to make judgments about a group of people on the basis of the colour of their skin – that one should be judged on the content of one’s character. Pinning the charge of racism to political framings of Muslims, on the other hand, requires large numbers of people to understand and accept a much deeper theorisation of race, since one’s religion or culture is demonstrably a body of ideas and practices that might be validly criticised. If cultures are made up of ideas, is it not valid to make judgements about those ideas, to assert that some are superior to others and to organise politically to oppose the proliferation of destructive ideas? Does the anti-racist position then reduce to placing Islam above criticism?

This is the point where I stopped writing, originally. What follows is an attempt to reconstruct from memory what I had intended to say by way of conclusion.

One form of discursive intervention which I think is crucial for anti-racists to make is to break apart the dominant constructions of ‘Islam’ as a unity in both their rightist and liberal forms, which necessarily entails breaking apart the unity of the ‘we’ which is counterposed to the ‘they’ without merely falling back on a class reductionism which renders race invisible by asserting the a priori unity of the international working class. The right constructs Islam as an inherently political and colonialist ideology which is by definition opposed to the West militarily and culturally. Muslims are positioned as inherently incompatible with Western liberal democracy, and it is therefore concluded that it is only through the exercise of coercive state power (immigration control, surveillance, and policing on the domestic front, and pacification through the exercise of overwhelming military force on the international) that the Muslim threat can be contained. The liberal multiculturalist counternarrative is superficially better, in that it at least refuses the framework of race war in understanding Islam. However, liberal narratives almost inevitably end up reducing cultural difference to a kind of ‘citizenship flavour’ with no political content or meaning – we may worship different Gods, eat different foods, etc., but within the political sphere we are all merely citizens of the nation – which constructs those Muslims who articulate political ideas or demands through an Islamic discourse as bad Muslims who refuse to behave as proper multicultural subjects, who must then be disciplined into the appropriate form by various hard and soft (coercive and persuasive) forms of disciplinary state power. Both constructions are motivated by an underlying fear of meaningful difference which might divide the political sphere, which in both cases is understood as fundamentally unified: there may be differences of political opinion, but there are no fundamental political divisions that cannot be reconciled through, or at least contained by the state. It is precisely the fear that political Islam might really exist which unites the Islamophobic right and the tolerant liberal. The anti-racist left must refuse this binary in two ways: First, we must emphasise that there is no single ‘Islam’ which is or is not political, or that is or is not antagonistic to ‘Western values’ (whatever they are). There are, in fact, a multitude of Islams which are in various ways and to varying degrees, political or apolitical, and through which a great heterogeneity of ethical and political claims are articulated, some of which might be considered reactionary, others progressive, but none of which necessarily characterise the essence of Islam as reactionary or progressive. Second, we must critique the supposed unity of ‘the nation’ or ‘the West’ so as to emphasise opportunities for affinity and collective self-organisation across the ‘racial divide’.

Additionally, it is necessary to recognise the politically ambiguous nature of “critique of religion” in modern discourse. The leftist critique of religion was always only secondarily (if at all) concerned with the actual content and truth-value of religious beliefs. The key concern was the structural role played by religion in maintaining the power of the dominant class and critique of religion necessarily went hand in hand with critique of bourgeois rationality. The hegemonic form of contemporary atheism instead involves the veneration of bourgeois rationality in opposition to religion, and is utterly disconnected from any wider project of liberation. Most troublingly, the construction of religion as oppressive in itself (without any wider critique of society) provides a vector by which racist and colonialist attitudes towards Islam might become legitimated within the left. It is therefore imperative that the Dawkinsian critique of religion be understood as what it is: an exercise of a fundamentally bourgeois and racialised power and not the discourse of liberation which it presents itself as.

Below are a selection of quotes from three prominent figures of the Atheist movement, and three prominent far-right figures. Try and guess which are which and maybe comment with your score (answers at the bottom).

  1. I regard Islam as one of the great evils in the world, and I fear that we have a very difficult struggle there… There are people in the Islamic world who simply say, ‘Islam is right, and we are going to impose our will.’
  2. Western values, freedom of speech, democracy and rights for women are incompatible with Islam, which is a cancer eating away at our freedoms and our democracy and rights for our women.
  3. It’s almost impossible to say anything against Islam in this country, because you are accused of being racist or Islamophobic.
  4. I do feel visceral revulsion at the burka because for me it is a symbol of the oppression of women.
  5. The Koran is an inspiration for intolerance, murder and terror.
  6. Islamo-fascists gave us no peace and we shouldn’t give them any. We can’t live on the same planet as them and I’m glad because I don’t want to. I don’t want to breathe the same air as these psychopaths and murderers and rapists and torturers and child abusers. It’s them or me. I’m very happy about this because I know it will be them. It’s a duty and a responsibility to defeat them. But it’s also a pleasure. I don’t regard it as a grim task at all.
  7. The dogma of multiculturalism has left a secular Europe very slow to address the looming problem of religious extremism among its immigrants.
  8. Islam is not compatible with our Western way of life. Islam is a threat to our values. Respect for people who think otherwise, the equality of men and women, the equality of homosexuals and heterosexuals, respect for Christians, Jews, unbelievers and apostates, the separation of church and state, freedom of speech, they are all under pressure…
  9. Let us remind ourselves what Sharia means on freedom of speech, conscience, and protest. All we need do is look at a few examples from other countries.
    In Pakistan, the Criminal Code articles 295 and 298 have shut down any freedom of speech as regards Islam. The blaspheme laws are a rod to beat down and kill the non-Muslim population.
    In Saudi Arabia, in 2007 the religious police beat little school girls back into their burning building because they were not properly covered.
    In Egypt, converts from Islam have to either flee the country or go into hiding.
    In Iran, protesters are gunned down in the street for declaring their lack of confidence in and support for the recent presidential elections.
    And in this country we are apparently not allowed to have an opinion that can be in anyway construed as being negative about Islam.
  10. As a matter of doctrine, the Muslim conception of tolerance is one in which non-Muslims have been politically and economically subdued, converted, or put to sword.
  11. Sharia – the rule by a so-called Allah means the domination of non-Muslims. It is a central teaching of Islam and rooted in the Qur’an and the example of Mohammed, the founder of Islam.
  12. I think it is well arguable that Islam is the greatest man-made force for evil in the world today.
  13. This wicked, vicious faith has expanded from a handful of cranky lunatics about 1,300 years ago, to it’s now sweeping country after country before it, all over the world. And if you read the Koran, you’ll find that that’s what they want.

The point of this (to preempt some of the more predictable objections to this) is not that atheism inevitable leads towards fascism or racism (as some of the more ludicrous religious evangelists will argue) nor that the Atheist movement and the far-right share common ideologcal roots (they don’t). It is to illustrate that the kind of vulgar post-political reductionism embodied by the likes of Dawkins, Harris and Hitchens converges with the far-right around a shared problematisation of Islam, and, more specifically, the presence of Muslim immigrants in the West, as well as shared anxieties around multiculturalism and political correctness. One can find much more explicit racist framings of Islam among the comments on the likes of Richard Dawkins website, while Dawkins and others are quoted enthusiastically by the EDL et al. This suggests (unsurprisingly, given that both inhabit the same political discourse) not just a point of convergence but an inter-relation of the two movements – a mutual feeding-into-one-another.

EDIT: Ok just to be clear, for the benefit of all the Redditors, I’m not asserting, nor do I believe, that the word ‘Muslim’ is interchangeable with ‘Arab’ or anything of the sort. But nor is it possible to draw a sharp distinction between race and religion as many commenters have. The word Muslim has a set of associated racial meanings. It is used in various ways to signify a multiplicity of minority races and cultures. This is simply a fact of our political discourse. This is why the political framing of Islam is a racial issue. What’s more: everyone knows this. The “I’m criticising their beliefs not their race” gambit is merely an attempt to deny the racial content of your statements in order to sidestep accusations of racism – a classic racist move.


  1. Atheist Richard Dawkins (source)
  2. Fascist Nick Griffin (source)
  3. Atheist Richard Dawkins (source)
  4. Atheist Richard Dawkins (Ibid.)
  5. Fascist Geert Wilders (source)
  6. Atheist Christopher Hitchens (source)
  7. Atheist Sam Harris (source) (He goes on to say that “The people who speak most sensibly about the threat that Islam poses to Europe are actually fascists.”)
  8. Fascist Geert Wilders (source)
  9. Fascist Tommy Robinson (source)
  10. Atheist Sam Harris (source)
  11. Fascist Tommy Robinson (source)
  12. Atheist Richard Dawkins (source)
  13. Fascist Nick Griffin (source)