.. about manic street preachers (May 2007)

I've recently found myself in two similar situations which elicited wildly different reactions, and made me question my personal brand of religious tolerance.

The first was in Varanasi during the celebrations of the god Shiva's birthday. As I was walking down the street, a parade came past. Children dressed as deities sat on floats, bands played raucous salutes, and monkeys capered with the revellers. It was a colourful scene.

I was in Liverpool a couple of weeks later. Walking from the Philharmonic Hall to the city centre, my father and I fell into step with a troupe of evangelical Christians. They were singing, dancing and handing out information leaflets about their church and mission. This irritated me beyond belief. I moved quickly to distance myself from them and expressed my distaste to my father. He was bemused.

"What happened to 'live and let live'?" he asked.

"Tell that to the evangelists!" I cried. "I don't want Christianity rammed down my throat."

"Then don't listen."

"How can I avoid listening when they're singing at the tops of their voices?"

"Chill."

There's nothing more rankling than being told to 'chill' when on one's soapbox. I hate apathy in all its forms, so resent being told to desist when in full flow.

In this case I distrust the notion of 'live and let live', because I feel like my side of the bargain is being flouted from the offset. I am happy to let Christians go about their business as long as they don't try to involve me in it. Does this make me intolerant? I don't know. Tolerance is a concept that's bandied about far too much these days, and I've never liked it. To tolerate something implies seeing it as inferior but putting up with it for a quiet life. I prefer acceptance. Yet I don't accept evangelism because I feel that evangelists aren't accepting my non-belief. My father would say 'tit for tat is how wars start', and he's right, but if none of us imposed our religious beliefs on others then there wouldn't be a problem. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't know of many wars that have been fought in the name of Ganesh, mainly because Ganesh devotees are happy to worship him without persuading others to follow suit.

My father suggested that I go out preaching my own particular gospel of atheism, but that isn't the point. If I did believe in a god I would satisfy myself with edifying him/her/it within the confines and privacy of my personal life. I wouldn't seek to convert others because it's no business of mine. And I would be certain enough of my chosen god's superiority to trust others to find it themselves without needing me to point them towards it.

Then my father reminded me of the Shiva parade in Varanasi, and asked if I'd got angry about that. I told him absolutely not. Why not? Partly, I explained, because the Shiva parade was novel and exotic to me, unlike Christian evangelism which I've witnessed throughout my life. Also, and more to the point, it didn't annoy me because the Hindu revellers weren't trying to convert me: they were worshipping, having an excellent time doing so, not caring whether I was a Shiva believer or not.

Likewise, at a Sikh temple I visited I was welcomed and shown around, even fed lunch, but not once invited to become a Sikh. I can't imagine stepping into a church and being given food without also being handed a leaflet or encouraged to come back as a member of the congregation.

I've decided that my dislike of evangelism stems from hating being told what to do. Like being accosted by a souvenir tout at Agra, I resent being told to look at or buy something no matter what it is. It could be a beautiful, reasonably-priced marble box that would look great on my bedroom dresser, but I will not humour the seller because I can't stand being ordered around. Given the chance to peruse the item at leisure, I might very well buy it. (Although Agra may not be the best example – my friend was offered a strange cat-o-nine-tails whip outside the Taj Mahal for 500 rupees) This attitude may be preventing me from discovering whole nirvanas of religious gratification, but I'll take the risk.