A few weeks ago, a friend of mine and I set up shop in our University’s Student Union Building and began tabling for the annual societies fair, where every student group gets a chance to explain what they’re about to the student body with the hope of recruiting new members.

The societies fair is always an interesting spectacle to behold. A near-complete cross-section of student groups on campus, one can sample the wears of groups as disparate as the Tea-drinking society (which I’ve always assumed is a front for something much more nefarious) and the young Tories (a truly nefarious group whose wares are far less delicious, in case you were wondering).

Anyway, there we were — the Dalhousie Atheist Community — placed, as it seems we always are (presumably by someone with a wry sense of humour) right next to one of the dozen or more religious groups on campus. Har har.

We usually speak to a number of religious groups who want to know what we’re about, and this year was no different. Most interesting, however, was a brief and seemingly insignificant interaction we had with the Muslim Student Association.

I say insignificant because it didn’t last very long — not more than a few minutes. Yet here I am writing a blog post about it.

I had caught wind that the MSA was giving away some very beautifully-bound English-translation copies of the Qur’an. I wanted one. The Qu’ran was the only holy book of the Mediterranean desert cults that I didn’t have, and I try to take a pokémon approach to my holy books.

My atheist swagger (or my DAC T-shirt) must have given me away, for I was met with what I can only describe as blank stares as I cautiously approached their table (which was adorned with a poster outlining several specious “scientific” proofs of Qu’ranic divinity that I did my best to ignore for diplomatic purposes. I wanted my free book).

“Hi!” I said, flashing them a wide I’m-not-going-to-eat-you-alive grin. “Someone told me you were giving away free copies of the Qu’ran..?” my voice trailed off. I was expecting to be intercepted here, but was met instead with a short, somewhat awkward silence.

“No… Well, we were. There’s just this one left. I guess you can take it if you want…” came the timid response from the young woman on the other side of the table, who flashed an approval-seeking glance to her associate. A shrug meant it was ok for me to pick it up.

“Great!” I beamed.

The next few minutes were spent chatting about the book. I asked several questions that I thought were reasonably well-informed, and I felt pretty confident that I’d demonstrated a genuine appreciation for the gift I had just received. Perhaps I went out of my way to do this if only to show them that I had no interest desecrating the thing. I smiled once more, thanked them, and walked back to my table.

The feeling of satisfaction with my pretty new bookshelf ornament didn’t last long. A few minutes later, the same young woman from the MSA briskly approached our table. “We just want you to know” she began, “that we take the Qu’ran very seriously. It is extremely sacred.” She had a somber look on her face. From the first syllable of this intonation, I immediately sensed I hadn’t successfully quelled their fears that I’d tear the book to shreds, defecate on it, and post a video of the process on YouTube.

Fuck.

“Look,” I said, with an intentional note of exasperation. “I truly appreciate this as a gift. I intend to treat it like any other book that I own, though. Now, I obviously don’t think, as you do, that it’s sacred — to me it’s just a book — but I’m not in the business of desecrating any books. So you really have nothing to worry about.”

Pictured: another book (also of the fiction genre) that I have not desecrated.

She was not impressed by this response. What she wanted was an acknowledgment of my subservience to the idea that this was a sacred book — a book authored by Allah. I couldn’t giver her that. After rolling her eyes slightly, she walked away.

I’ll be frank. I think book desecration, no matter what the book, is silly. It represents a suppression of free expression, and on a large scale is the hallmark of despotic regimes the world over. Would I be terribly offended if a Muslim set a copy of The God Delusion on fire? No. I’d think they were worthy of repudiation for their anti-free speech attitudes, but at the end of the day, it’s just a book — and if they paid for it, who cares? (As it happens, a few minutes of internet research indicated that my free copy of the Qu’ran was paid for by the Saudi royal family.)

While book desecration may be foolhardy, what’s truly beyond the pale is when those who partake in this and other forms of religious blasphemy are threatened with death and worse for not bowing to the dogma of the particular religious faith they’ve blasphemed against. It has well been said that Blasphemy is a victimless crime, and while religious fanatics might imbue a book or a cracker (or a cheese doodle for that matter) with the essence of the divine, to us it is just a book. Just a cracker. Just a cheese doodle.

No amount of posturing will change that, and coercing someone who doesn’t share your faith into bowing to the whims of your dogma by means of threatening them is the last refuge of mental midgets who cannot stand the idea that other people might disagree with them. *Cough* Jyllands-Posten Muhammad cartoons controversy *cough*.

Indeed, it is in the spirit of Blasphemy Day that all ideas, however offensive to our common or individual moral sensibilities (whether sensible or not) be protected and be allowed to freely propagate. Take, for example, the Qu’ran’s instructions for how to deal with the kafir (disbelievers):

Slay the pagans wherever you may come upon them, and take them captive, and besiege them, and lie in wait for them at every conceivable place… (9:5).

This is just one example of the offensive and stupid content that fills every Surah of the Qur’an, but I still don’t feel compelled to destroy the book. Instead, I’ll just point out that it’s stupid and offensive. Oh, I just did that.

I am happy to report that the poor, defenseless Qu’ran that found its way into the hands of this fire-breathing atheist is currently residing, completely unharmed, on my book shelf.

In fact, I have done one thing to acknowledge that the Qu’ran isn’t quite like any other book on my shelf. It’s currently sitting in a special spot I’ve created, along with a collection of other ridiculous religious paraphernalia (how’s that for alliteration).

I’ve decided it belongs next to my genuine, certified Pope Hat™.