By Arild Svensson, Stockholm
When the Iraqi Salwan Momika burned a Quran in Sweden in August 2023, it sparked a storm of outrage in the Islamic world. Western media reported extensively on the incident, Sweden came under pressure to legally ban such actions, and columnists warned of the consequences. But when Momika was shot dead last month during a TikTok livestream in his apartment in the city of Södertälje, his death remained little more than a footnote in the news.
This discrepancy raises a troubling question: Why does the burning of a book attract more attention than the death of a human being? In the Arab world, Momika’s murder was sometimes met with jubilation or schadenfreude. The few who condemned the act equated the perpetrator and the victim. Momika, they argued, had brought it upon himself with his provocations. He had hurt the feelings of Muslims and was therefore just as radical as his killer.
Never before has it been so dangerous to be a critic of Islam in Europe. Perhaps because progressive identity politics has allowed religious feelings to take precedence over freedom of speech. Perhaps because a few hundred pages of paper—or what they symbolize—are worth more to the apostles of diversity than a human life.
Salwan Momika wanted to prove that the Quran calls for terror. Tragically, he succeeded only through his own death. But his killer, too, acted with sacred zeal—and does not represent all Muslims. In the comment sections under reports of Momika’s murder, one finds both schadenfreude and appeasement. Many Muslims celebrated the act as a victory for Islam and a defeat for its enemies. “May his death serve as a warning to all those who believe their life in the unbelieving West is beyond the reach of Allah’s laws,” one person wrote. Others warned of the consequences: “This murder harms Muslims worldwide,” read one comment. “The far right will exploit this act to push through laws against Muslims.” The author concluded with the words: “The murderer is just as extreme as the man who burned the Quran. Both are enemies of Muslims.”
But even this comment reveals two problems: First, after every attack by a radical Muslim, some Muslims rejoice, while others portray Islam and Muslims as the true victims. For them, a terrorist attack is not wrong because it is inhumane, but because it damages the image of Islam. Second, perpetrator and victim, criticism and violence, are equated. Yet Momika never called for violence against Muslims. He had radical ideas, but he expressed them within the framework of the rule of law.
The question is how we will deal with such acts in the future. Should every Quran burning—and every criticism of the Quran—be banned to avoid provoking terrorists? Would terrorists be satisfied with that, or would they also target moderate critics and Islamic reformers? How much power should the Quran still hold?
