Indifference towards symbols of other faiths would allow us to gather many different, meaningful objects on one wall without a question. Then, everyone would have to seek for their own symbol, to ensure oneself that they are in a familiar place. The composition on the wall would be interesting, maybe beautiful, but certainly difficult to construct. Common, united work on the arrangement of the wall would be an absorbing, valuable, though not easy lesson of dialogue, expressing one’s beliefs and emotions. The second requirement is patient and kind inquiry into others’ feelings. I wish I could perform such an operation with some group, in order to describe it.
I can tell one thing in advance: the main problem would be the fact that not only the symbols are different, but their role, the relation with them and the customs also differ considerably. People of various faiths represent different needs. There is no common denominator. Presence of the cross for a catholic is not the same thing as, for example, hanging the Star of David for a Jew.
The cross, in its various forms (often opposing one another) is a sign of protest. It is the essence of this symbol. Moreover, the history encumbered the cross with the hate of those hurt in the name of Christian supremacy or the supremacy of any other religion. Not everywhere, not against everyone, can the cross be hanged so innocently and without any consequence.
Believers need it in their space. I do as well. And it can be easily “tolerated” by religiously unaffiliated fellow citizens used to its sight, who do not feel threatened by the believers. Usually, such people do not need parity for “their symbols”, because they do not have them.
I instinctively feel that a wall evoking a range of different values would be better than a white and empty one. But maybe it is not so? Maybe a consciously empty wall would be a sign of something important. I can also imagine a wall, whose white cloud would be a curtain behind which everyone could see their own symbols. The cloud could hide the cross that hurts too much.
Thinking further about this topic, I also presume that not everyone would be able to accept a wall calling them to make their own choice and respect the choice of others at the same time. The problem will be considerable, harsh, or maybe even impossible to resolve for lay people. For them, the signs have no meaning, they are products or relics of culture; the wall has its place in a museum. A cross may easily hang on the wall of a classroom in which there are no believers. It is orthodox believers of other faiths, fearing idolatry, that will protest against symbols different from their own. Maybe for their sake, it would be better to choose the empty wall (or the “cloud”). But also the dialog, attempts of reaching an agreement, of arranging the wall in a spirit of harmony. It would require huge amounts of work, with little chance for success, but it’s worth giving a try.
I also have a suggestion for another project: to move the symbols to the private space. After all, religion is a private matter, it is rooted in the individual, though it creates a community. At school, the most private space is the inside of a schoolbag. That is a place where one can keep a small symbol, a cross representing their religion, a sacred text, something that reminds about their faith. I can allow friends to look at that treasure. We all will be showing respect towards the souvenirs we carry with ourselves as we set out for a great journey. They do not need to create borders among us. They can support us.
I sense that this project is courageous. But maybe it is courage that we need.
* Halina Bortnowska philosopher, publicist, chairperson of the board of Helsinki Foundation for Human Rights