France and India are two countries that proudly proclaim the secular nature of their democracies. The principles of church-state separation and state neutrality towards religion are the same. But somehow the accents were different when French President Nicolas Sarkozy visited India last week. While they both were dealing with the concept called “secularism” in English, it was clear that Sarkozy’s thinking was based on the French word laïcité while Prime Minister Manmohan Singh clearly had the Hindi term dharmanirpekshta in mind.

The visit focused mostly on expanding investment and defence cooperation, with much gossip on the side about whether the freshly divorced president’s new flame Carla Bruni would join him at the Taj Mahal (much to the chagrin of the paparazzi, she didn’t).

Hidden behind the headlines, though, was a fascinating disagreement about Sarkozy’s plan to present Taslima Nasreen, an exiled Bangladeshi writer living in India, with the “Simone de Beauvoir Prize For Women’s Freedom.” This prize sponsored by CulturesFrance (part of the French Foreign Ministry) and a Paris publisher went this year to Nasreen and Ayaan Hirsi Ali, two women of Muslim background who have been threatened with death by Islamists because of their forceful criticism of the religion.

Sarkozy wanted to present the award to Nasreen in New Delhi, presumably at a ceremony to be broadcast back home where he is under fire for allegedly violating French laïcité. He was even thinking of doing it at the safe house where she is hiding from death threats. This caused considerable concern in the Indian government, which worried about a possible Muslim backlash over any honour for the award-winning writer they accuse of blasphemy. The Indian army had to be called in to quell anti-Nasreen riots by Islamist groups in Kolkata last November.

In the end, it didn’t happen. The grand French gesture was reduced to a request to India to “facilitate Ms Nasreen’s journey to France” to pick up her award.

It looks like a case of thinking that secularism was the same the world around. The French version, laïcité, was a reaction to the power of the majority Catholic Church and aimed to keep religion out of public life. Defending this is as natural for a French president as praising apple pie and motherhood is for his American counterpart.

With religion such a part of public life, India’s dharmanirpekshta aims more at making sure no one religious group dominates this country of 1.1 billion people. While Hindus are the majority at around 80 percent, Muslims are more than 13 percent of the population. Christians and Sikhs each account for about 2 percent of the population while Buddhists and other religions account for the rest. Indian law also makes major concessions to religions. For example, Indian laws on family, divorce and adoption differ depending on your religion.

Prime Minister Singh was largely silent on Nasreen’s case last year, sparking criticism from secular intellectuals that the government was failing to defend the country’s principles. In the Hindustan Times, Karan Thapar wrote of India: “Democratic we may be, but liberal we most certainly are not.” His low profile has also drawn fire from Hindu nationalists, who charged he was appeasing Muslims by not vocally supporting Nasreen. There may not have been much he could say. Criticism of the Muslims could have prompted the Hindu nationalist opposition to cry even more loudly that Islamist groups are a threat to the Indian state.

For the moment, it seems as if Singh has won on both counts. He headed off both Sarkozy and a possible uproar from Muslims over his award ceremony plans. In a recent broadside, Jamaat-i-Islami Hind focused on the government’s decision to extend the visa of “a foreign controversial lady.”

Nasreen has since said she will not go to Paris for the award and asked that it be sent to her residence in Kolkata.

The controversy, for now, appears to be fading. And the French have bounced back into the cultural news headlines smartly with another, less controversial award. On Sunday, the French ambassador decorated the Bollywood superstar Shah Rukh Khan with the country’s highest decoration for artists, the “Order of Arts and Letters.”

In India, it was a much safer bet.

The case of Sayed Perwiz Kambakhsh, the young Afghan journalist sentenced to death for blasphemy against Islam, is a classic “clash of civilisations” issue pitting the principle of free speech against that of respect for religion. I’ve been trying to find out more details to understand where this case stands and how it should be reported.

First, it looks like this could drag on for quite some time. His brother Sayed Yaqub Ibrahimi tells us the family has appealed the decision at a court in Mazar-i-Sharif and will take it to the Supreme Court in Kabul if the appeals court upholds the original verdict.

More information has emerged about the case being made against Kambakhsh. We knew some university classmates had accused him of mocking Islam and the Koran and of distributing an article saying the Prophet Mohammad had ignored women’s rights. According to RFE/RL, the article came from a website based in Europe and run by an Iranian exile whose pen name is Arash Bikhoda. “Bikhoda” means “godless” in Persian.

The prosecutors also claim that they found SMS texts mocking Islam on Kambakhsh’s cellphone and a book about religion by the popular U.S. philosopher and historian Will Durant in his apartment. Our reporter was told it was entitled “Religion Through History,” but Durant never wrote any book with that name. Maybe this was a Persian translation of his 1950 book The Age of Faith, part of his massive Story of Civilisation series. Will the prosecutors argue that possession of a book by “philosophy’s best salesman” is somehow criminal?

There have been several protests and expressions of concern from western sources, including the U.S. State Department, Germany’s foreign minister, the French foreign ministry, the United Nations, European Parliament, Reporters without Borders, the Institute for War and Peace Reporting as well as Kambakhsh’s Afghan colleagues. There may be more out there that search engines don’t reach, but this looks representative enough.

Looking for other reactions from the Muslim world, all I found was a report of support for the death sentence from Afghan Islamic leaders and a strongly worded protest against it from the American Islamic Congress.

My unscientific survey shows strong interest in this case in western countries but little or none in the Muslim world. If the case goes all the way to the Afghan Supreme Court and the death sentence is upheld, we can assume there will be waves of calls for clemency and tensions between western and Muslim countries. Are there any other reactions to this case right now in the Muslim world? Should there be?

Concern is mounting in the Netherlands as the country prepares for a film about the Koran by a far-right populist known for his hostility to Islam. It reached the point last Friday that Prime Minister Jan Peter Balkenende publicly appealed for restraint. A former Malaysian ambassador in The Hague has said the reaction could make the 2006 Danish cartoon controversy look like “a picnic.”

Geert Wilders, who wants to ban the Koran as a “fascist” book and has warned of a “tsunami of Islamisation” in the Netherlands, has proceeded with the film despite warnings from the Dutch justice and foreign ministers. (We blogged on this last November when the warnings came). It’s not clear when it will be broadcast, but it is expected soon. Wilders has denied reports that it will be shown on Friday Jan. 25. There is already a spoof on YouTube.

The last Dutchman who made a film critical of Islam, Theo van Gogh, was murdered by an Islamist radical in 2004. That unleashed a violent anti-Muslim backlash in the Netherlands. Caricatures of the Prophet Mohammad in a Danish daily sparked off violent protests in the Muslim world.

With that in mind, the Dutch government has been considering the possible reaction this time around and what to do about it. According to media reports, “these include quick evacuation of Dutch citizens from Muslim countries. The government is expecting riots, flag burnings and boycotts, and has informed municipalities and police to be ready for such eventualities.” Last Saturday, about 200 Christians from various churches met in Zwolle to pray “for calm and tolerance” when the film comes out.

Ehsan Jami, a Dutch-Iranian who launched a Committee of Ex-Muslims last September, has said he is working on a film about the life of Mohammad due out in February or March.

The Danish cartoon controversy was a frontal clash of cultures, with European editors and officials saying free speech was inviolate and Muslim leaders calling for punishment for blasphemy. The Dutch prime minister tried to strike a balance between these views on Friday, saying:

“The Netherlands has a tradition of freedom of speech, religion and beliefs. The Netherlands also has a tradition of respect, tolerance and responsibility. Unnecessarily offending a certain belief or group has no place in that.” He said the government wanted “a free and unhindered debate, and respect in dealing with each other flow from both traditions, and the cabinet shall uphold both traditions and calls on everybody to do so.”

All this concern swirls around a film that nobody has yet seen and whose title is not even known. Tariq Ramadan, the Swiss-born Muslim academic who now teaches in Rotterdam, called it “a movie-provocation about which everybody is talking while nobody knows anything!” He added: “Silence will be the best response.”

Are we headed for another head-on clash? Or do you think that Muslims and non-Muslims in Europe have moved towards better cooperation when one side feels provoked?

Among the idiosyncrasies of British life is the fact that this secularised open society has an established church and a law banning blasphemy against it. This anomaly was back in the headlines this week when a member of Parliament tried to abolish the blasphemy law with an amendment to a bill on crime and immigration. With the issue back on the table, another MP submitted a motion to disestablish the Church of England. By a coincidence some might see as a warning, it was listed as motion #666 — the number of the Beast in the Bible’s Book of Revelation, associated with Nero, the Antichrist and other opponents of Christianity.

Change is coming, but it won’t be apocalyptic. After heading off the amendment on the blasphemy ban, the government has pledged to scrap the outdated law against “scurrilous vilification” of the faith after consultation with the Church of England. Lord Carey, the former Archbishop of Canterbury, has co-signed a letter to the Daily Telegraph advocating the abolition of a ban “in clear breach of human rights law.” The Church of England has signalled it could accept abolition if the government proceeds with caution.

(UPDATE Jan 12: Rowan Williams, the current Archbishop of Canterbury, later said the Church of England “is not going to resist the repeal of the blasphemy laws given their awkward and not very workable legacy at present.”)

Motion #666 probably won’t be debated, but it’s a sign. “Momentum for looser ties between Church and State is growing, as the support for the repeal of the blasphemy law illustrates,” writes Ruth Gledhill of The Times.

Ironically, the move to scrap the blasphemy law came after a Christian group tried to use it against the BBC for airing the musical” Jerry Springer - The Opera.”

There was an uproar in Britain recently when Sudan charged a British teacher with blasphemy for allowing her pupils to name a teddy bear Mohammad. Do you think London should sweep in front of its own door before criticising blasphemy laws elsewhere?

Khartoum correspondent Opheera McDoom looks back at the “teddy bear saga”

The “teddy bear saga” broke on a Monday with the news that Gillian Gibbons had been arrested by authorities. We’re used to stories of people being taken from their homes at night by armed security forces in Khartoum, so I was caught a little by surprise at the immense interest this case attracted. But as the story grew, the world’s press descended on Khartoum and the adrenalin of covering one of the world’s top stories kicked in.

The court case was an agonising and panicked rush in the morning as no one — not even Gibbons’ defence lawyers — was quite sure where the case was going to be heard. Unusually, she was in court the day after charges were pressed . The judge decided to keep going long into the night, and after the busy courthouse had emptied of its usual crowd, before reaching a verdict.

It was a chaotic scene. I bumped into many of my Sudanese journalist colleagues. I had assumed they were there to cover the case, but instead I found that many journalists from the independent press were there for another reason — they had court cases against them for libel or defamation. The editor of Sudan’s leading independent daily and his deputy — two colleagues I really respect in the profession — were being escorted through the courthouse. They were being released after nearly two weeks in jail for defaming the government. And then a dazed and confused Gibbons was led through a crowd of onlookers to the courtroom, escorted by police.

The judge decided on a closed court, usually reserved for military trials, and the police formed a locked line. Shouting loudly, they gradually pushed the crowd, including defence lawyers, journalists and British embassy officials, back away from the court room. After a screaming match, the head defence lawyer was allowed in and, a few hours later, the British consul too. But journalists were edged further and further away as the long day went on.

Gibbons could have been sentenced to 40 lashes, up to a year in prison or a fine if found guilty of insulting Islam. But on more than one occasion, I was asked in the courthouse by ordinary Sudanese “Is it over yet? What a silly case!” Clearly not all the population were flag and sword-waving fanatics calling for her death (an image most media used of up to 1,000 demonstrators the following day after Friday prayers). Considering that most Sudanese go to mosque on that day, I was surprised at how small the protest was.

Back in the courthouse, I heard a strange sound and saw what I thought were men cleaning or repairing the walls with a strange rod. Later on, when it happened again nearer to the line of police, I realised a man was being lashed after being found guilty of drinking alcohol. Facing the wall and fully clothed, he was smacked with a hard leather whip on the back of his thighs. Less than a metre away, the British consul sat trying to look the other way and pretending to play with his mobile phone as the whipping ended in a shouting match between police and the whippee.

Despite hours of pleading, authorities banned all filming and photography in or anywhere near the building. One cameraman tried to push his luck, and within five minutes, all those carrying cameras were arrested. I spent much of the afternoon trying to get photographers released and their cameras back in between filing updates on the trial.

Then a colleague next to me was arrested. When he asked why, the police said it was because they thought I had taken pictures with my camera. “Then why don’t you arrest her?” he asked. “We don’t speak English, how can we talk to her?” they replied. Trying to rescue him, they soon found out I spoke fluent Arabic.

Later on, as security pushed all the journalists downstairs, I was called upstairs by the guards. “Great, NOW I’m being arrested,” I thought, as I weaved past the guards. But instead, the officer who had been in charge of Gibbons where she was first held said: “We have all her things and we don’t want them — can we give them to you? It’s just a blanket.” A little taken aback, I reminded them I was just a journalist, but they insisted and took me outside to a pick-up with darkened windows. The random “khawajiyya” (foreigner) who spoke Arabic must know where to take the stuff, they thought. The officer then piled up five bags of blankets, duvets, pillows, food (lots of apples) and other things. Fast running out of hands to carry it, I brought my car over and loaded it up before passing the things on to Gibbons’ school.

What a surreal ending. “Does this mean she’s going to be freed?” I asked security. “She’s either going home or going to jail,” they replied. Poor Gillian, I thought. I had visited Omdurman Women’s prison in 2004, and it was no Hilton. Overcrowded, packed with sick women with sick babies who rely on family or Sudanese charities to bring them food, it was a miserable place. And I didn’t imagine it was like French cheese. It didn’t improve with time.

Gillian’s guilty sentence took many by surprise, as the prosecution’s case was so weak and the defence so strong. Her Sudanese Muslim teaching assistant, who was in the classroom with her when the teddy bear’s name of Mohammad was chosen, testified for the defence, as did parents of the pupils. It was an innocent error, they said. And they had seen nothing wrong with it at the time and still did not. The teddy was named after a student by the children. Gillian had done nothing wrong. But despite being found guilty, Gibbons’ sentence was light at just 15 days in jail and then deportation. Many Sudanese remember vividly Mahmoud Mohamed Taha, who was executed in the 1980s for his controversial views on Islam, which prompted the then newly-Islamic government to accuse him of apostasy.

While Khartoum may have thought it had satisfied all sides with the verdict, they underestimated the power of the British tabloid press, which had poured into Sudan over the past week. On the hunt for the teddy, which was confiscated as evidence, the journalists — who were used to the UK where they can take pictures or film anywhere and get easy access to information — found Sudan’s working environment strange.

So Gillian finally made it home safe and sound and is back with her family. While I was happy for her, I just wished the hundreds of Sudanese subjected to similar cases were half as lucky.

Two Dutch politicians seem to be doing their best to stir up a controversy with Muslims. The far-right MP Geert Wilders says he wants to make a film for television about the Koran. Ehsan Jami, an Iranian-born local councillor who launched a Committee of Ex-Muslims in September, plans a film called “The Life of Mohammad.” Both are due to be ready early next year.

Shades of the bloody protests over the Danish Prophet Mohammad cartoons and Theo van Gogh’s murder for his film “Submission”…

Are we in for another “free-speech-versus-blasphemy” (or, to put it more bluntly, “West-versus-Islam”) clash?

Wilders, who has compared the Koran to Hitler’s Mein Kampf and called for it to be banned, says he only wants to express his opinions. “It is not my intention to offend people. I just want to illustrate my opinions, which I have expressed as a member of parliament,” he said. “If people do feel offended, that is a shame, but it is not my problem.” The Dutch justice and foreign ministers have met him to discuss the risks to himself and Dutch interests abroad if he makes the film. Jami says his film will “stir up more dust than the Danish Mohammad cartoons,” according to an interview with him in the Amsterdam daily De Telegraaf. “I show how violent and tyrannical Mohammad was. This man murdered three Jewish tribes, killed people who left the faith and married a 6-year-old girl, with whom he had sex when she was 9 … I will give 50,000 euros to anyone who can refute these facts.”

Is this a train crash just waiting to happen? Has anybody learned anything from the Dutch and Danish cases? Should anybody take precautions to prevent a clash — and if so, who should take which ones?

The leading role monks played in the September protests against Myanmar’s military rulers has put the spotlight on the politically active side of Buddhism.

Next door in Thailand, this activism takes a quite different form. Buddhist groups there tried in vain earlier this year to have Buddhism declared the country’s official religion in its new post-coup constitution.

In April, they converged on parliament in Bangkok — some riding into the city on elephants — to highlight their demand.

Even though 95 percent of Thais are Buddhists, the drafting assembly rejected the idea.

In an unusual step, Queen Sirikit said in a speech marking her 75th birthday in August that religion should be separate from politics. Given the deep respect Thais have for their monarchy, that put an end to the campaign.

The drive to give Buddhism official status has come back in another guise. As the Bangkok Post reports, 179 members of the 250-seat National Legislative Assembly have backed a bill to make offences to Buddhism a crime punishable by stiff penalties. The report said:

The bill sets a jail term of 10-25 years and/or a fine of 500,000-1,000,000 baht for insulting, offending, imitating and distorting Buddhism and the Lord Buddha and a jail term of 5-10 years and/or a fine of 100,000-500,000 baht for damaging Buddhist objects, personnel and places.

People who have any form of sexual affair with monks, novices and nuns are liable to five to 10 years in jail and/or a fine of 100,000-500,000 baht.

However, the bill does not include any punishments for monks, novices and nuns who engage in sexual relations … Punishment for physically assaulting monks, novices and nuns would be three times those stipulated by law.

(100,000 baht = $3,180 )

The issue of blasphemy played a central role in the violent protests in Muslim countries last year against the Danish caricatures of the Prophet Mohammad.

Pakistan is regularly criticised by the United Nations and groups supporting religious freedom for its blasphemy law that critics say is used to oppress non-conformist Muslims (such as Ahmedis) and religious minorities such as Christians.

Does bringing in a blasphemy law to protect Buddhism sound like a good idea to you?