The Capacity For Morality

The atheist was incapable of being moral. 

His friends looked at him with distrust. They did not mind talking about religion. They often prayed to God before an exam they had not prepared for properly. They did not mind celebrating the festivals with a religious connotation, even though the traditions associated with it predated the religion itself. His friends looked away when someone from another religion walked past them, because the person was worshipping the wrong God. 

But they were uncomfortable with the atheist among them, because he was an outspoken one. He did not restrict his thoughts when a teacher classified his talent for writing as God’s gift, nor when his relatives credited his academic success to destiny rather than the effort the atheist had put in. “You are wrong,” he would say, with a conviction as strong as the people who believed in God. The absence of a supreme deity was a fact of life which he had come to accept as much as his theistic friends accepted the existence of deities. Yet, only one side would comment on the matter with independent thought and logic. Whenever a heated debate ensued, the other side could match him only with their numbers. 

The bell would ring, signaling the end of the lunch break as well as the premature conclusion of a heated discussion between peers. 

“You could… just stay silent,” an agnostic friend once told him. “People feel uncomfortable when the truth is questioned.” 

“Their truth, you mean to say,” the atheist corrected. “I do not think people would be so confused about the universal truth if it was singular like all religious people claim it to be. The truth has a way of making itself known, irrespective what people do.” 

The agnostic had remained silent, for he knew even if he expended words to his friend, his own belief about faith would remain unshakeable. 

The atheist was incapable of being moral. 

It was on a day like any other when he decided he would not fold his hands for a prayer. His previous school had endorsed a secular prayer which was written by a modern poet, but his unconventional choice of subjects for further studies meant he had to complete his final years of education in a new school. It provided a fine education, but the culture of the institution had been entangled with the religious outlook of its trustees. This new school prayer preached desirable characteristics, so the students sang them in the assembly every morning. But the atheist found an objection here too, for he had the unlikeable habit of asking questions - despite the lessons from his elders and his teachers, he thought one could never ask too many questions. He asked himself why he would be required to pray to a God he did not believe in, through a language he knew most of his peers did not understand, in a posture which pled to a being whose existence he did not believe in. 

As a result, he sat down with the others on the floor, but when the prayer rung out from the speaker which sat in the corner of the assembly hall, he remained the only one who did not join his palms. The teacher given the duty to make the rounds and ensure proper posture during the prayer came up to him to join his hands. He refused to do so, which was seen not only as disrespect to his teacher, but also to God. As a result, he was on the receiving end of a prospective punishment when he was asked to stay back after his peers had dispersed to attend their classes. But before anyone could speak, he cited the part of the constitution which gave him the right to abstain from taking part in any religious activity within an educational institute in the country. 

His class teacher looked at him with a clear sense of distrust, but she eventually let him go. She feared he was the sort of character who could make an incident out of any punishment they might decide to give him. 

The atheist was incapable of being moral. 

For the remaining days of his educational career, be it in school or college, his outspoken refusal to buy into what were everyday practices for the others cast him as a person who was not to be trusted. He feared no God, which meant he feared no consequences. He might have been witty, but it was eventually seen as a veil which was worn over his actual self of infidelity. He might have been intelligent, but his intelligence was seen by the others as a curse which had gotten the better of him, for he could no longer see the truth and accept it. He might have been a good person who helped others when they were in need in the small ways he could, but his kindness was always treated with suspicion - he could always change his own behaviour, for he did not fear one’s accountability to the gods above. 

The atheist was incapable of being moral. 

He shifted to the capital of the country a few years into his life as a professional. He was a journalist who worked for the only television network in the mainstream which was not funded by the ruling political party. His works had been well-respected in the industry, and his byline garnered the grudging respect of even the most competitive media houses. 

But he became quite infamous for one single act - publishing a book where he talked about his atheism. It had been published at a time when the people in power were convincing the masses about their superiority by associating themselves with religion. It was a tumultuous moment in the history of the nation, where most people were grieving the loss of national pride which had been lost under the rule of a stagnant leadership by the previous government, which made them turn to their faiths. Conviction about the truth of their respective religion had been the source of major conflict between the majority and the minority - the latter had been accused of being the source of all frustrations which plagued society, for the lack of a better alternative to blame for one’s misery. One could not be responsible for one's misery, after all. 

The capital of the country was where the troubles began. People had been protesting a recent Act passed by the government on the streets for many weeks - it was seen as a clear assault on the people of one faith by all the others in the establishment. But things had escalated, as they often did when it was on the matter of debate about who worshipped the correct God. 

The atheist was driving to work in the morning, with his press identification kept in his pocket. He did not encounter any red lights on his way to work for the first fifteen minutes he drove. This was unfortunate, because if he did, he could have picked up his phone to read the notifications from his colleagues. Unrest had broken out, with initial reports suggesting the police were silent bystanders at best, and active participants in violence at worst. 

The atheist eventually stopped when he saw the mob in front of him. He had just driven out of a narrow street which was not populated by many cars on any day, but it was only now that he noticed there was no one around. He got out of the car, and looked at the scenes in front of him with a certain apprehension. The mob consisted of mostly young men, as it often did. They wore suggestive religious symbols which the atheist knew enough about after his years of theological studies from the point of view of a skeptic. 

They were gathered in front of a home, where a man belonging to the minority faith was being attacked by bricks, bats and stones. Policemen stood in the corner, passive, except for one. This officer approached the mob. And then, he joined them. 

The atheist almost got back into his car, for a moment thinking it would be safer to drive back home. Eventually, he reached into his gearbox to take out his identification as a press reporter. He made his way to the mob, which was increasing in its frenzy. The attackers were loud enough for everyone in the neighbourhood to know their cause for anger - the man being lynched chopped forbidden meat for a living. 

God resided in the animal which was treated as akin to a mother by the majority, but merely as food by the minority. The correct faith, as always, was considered to be the one which belonged to the majority’s psyche. Hence, the sale of this particular brand of meat was being opposed throughout the country. 

“Please stop,” the atheist said, wearing his office clothes. They were different from the attire which the attackers wore. The attackers wore clothes which were fading in colour, and of a certain hue, which would serve as a declaration of their political affiliations. 

The reporter carried his mobile in his hand. He had started recording with its camera without reading the notifications on the screen - it would have warned him to drive away, for the entire city had been mobilised enough for the mobs to no longer fear the figures of authority. 

“I’m from the press,” he said. People retracted from their attack on the man for a few moments. The injured man lay on the street, barely alive. “Please leave the man alone,” the atheist said. 

The leader of the mob stepped forward, keeping a firm grip on the hockey stick in his hand. He took a close look at the ID card of the man - he belonged to the correct faith. He turned around, looking at the crowd which was waiting to finish the man who had dared to earn a living by selling meat. 

But as he contemplated what to do, he turned around and looked at the card again. Somehow, his name sounded familiar. The mob leader squinted at his photograph, then at the atheist himself. Then, the realisation struck him - this journalist did not belong to the correct faith, nor did he belong to the wrong faith. He was worse, for he had no faith at all. His name had been published in the national papers and his book had been the recipient of both accolades and criticism. The mob leader himself had once written a threatening text to him on social media, but never been replied to. Now, there would be no need to. 

He looked at his men and pointed at the atheist. “He’s a non-believer,” he said. “He’s the man who was in the news recently. He does not believe in our deities. He mocks the way we live our lives. He refuses to see the truth.” 

A few people in the crowd recognised him and stepped forward. The rest did not recognise him, but stepped forward anyways. They knew he must be a bad man, for their leader had said so. They picked up their bloodied equipment, which was being used to hurt another man just a moment earlier. Most had forgotten about him already, because there was another non-believer to take care of now. 

The leader stepped forward and took away the phone of the atheist. No proof of what happened would remain. The police would turn in ambiguous but united statements later on, saying there was nothing to be done. Nor would they be able to identify any of the men who took part in the attack, because all of them were unidentifiable in the frenzy. 

The atheist knew any attempts to escape would be futile. In a few minutes, he knew he would be dead. In a few minutes, he was dead. 

Then, they returned to the man they had been lynching. He had passed away in the ensuing time, but that did not stop them from making sure of the fact. The news of the death of the atheist would be mourned on social media when the news broke out later in the evening. 

His book would experience a minor boost in sales. The television network he worked for would be looked at empathetically by a small demographic of the country. And there would a minor discussion about religion in the country for a few days, until everyone forgot again and carried on like they used to. The people responsible for the deaths of many that day would remain free. The majority would remain convinced they had been doing the right thing. 

After all, the atheist was incapable of being moral.