I kind of feel Muslims and non-Muslims (mostly Muslims) saying Salwan Momika deserves it for burning doesn’t seem to understand that Quran burning is a symbol. When they are agreeing with him being murdered for the burn, it means the action he did to provoke was right. They proved his point. It’s a war of symbols and sanctity while lives are no longer as important as lifeless things, like a book or symbols.
Baudrillard: Hyperreality and Simulacra
Those familiar with the French postmodernist thinker Baudrillard may find this case familiar. Baudrillard’s theory of hyperreality directly applies here. The Quran burning and the subsequent outrage transcend their actual, material significance. In this case, the burning becomes a simulacrum—a copy of a symbol that replaces its original meaning. Rather than being a simple physical act, the burning becomes part of a media spectacle, intensifying the symbolic war at hand. This spectacle, influenced by media amplification, eclipses the real-life consequences of the action (i.e., Salwan Momika’s death).
In Baudrillard’s view, the violence and the response to the violence aren’t just reactions to the physical act but are absorbed into a larger simulacrum, where the act of burning a book or the symbol itself becomes the central object of focus. The actual book or the message it contains doesn’t matter anymore; it’s about what the symbol stands for—an ideal of purity, defense of the sacred, and, for those in opposition, a critique of dogmatic beliefs.
Lacan: The Mirror Stage and the Symbolic Order
Let’s now move to a psychoanalytic thinker from France, Lacan. From a Lacanian perspective, the situation involves a clash within the Symbolic Order—the realm of language, culture, and social norms. The Quran, as an object in the Symbolic Order, holds deep meaning and structure within the Islamic world, representing authority, truth, and divine law. Lacan would view the act of burning it as a violation of this order, a symbolic castration, a tearing apart of the mirror image (the Imaginary) that reflects the ideal identity of the person who identifies with that symbol.
For the individuals involved in this war of symbols, the response to the burning is akin to the reaction one might have when their reflection is shattered—an assault on the Ideal-I. The outrage, whether violent or verbal, is not just about the desecration of a symbol but the destabilization of one’s identity. Lacan would argue that this symbolizes a deep alienation from the Symbolic Order—when something as fundamental as the Quran is challenged, the response is a cry for the restoration of this order.
Freud: The Death Drive and Repression
Freud’s theory of the death drive (Thanatos) can also be applied here. Yes, even the old-school psychoanalytic thinkers such as Freud and his ideas are relevant to discerning and dissecting what is happening right now. The violence surrounding the Quran burning reflects a desire for destruction and annihilation, a return to chaos in a world that has become too ordered by symbols and doctrines. When the sanctity of the Quran is violated, it triggers a primal, repressed reaction—a return to a primal, ungoverned state of aggression. The act of burning the Quran, while intellectual and symbolic, is also deeply tied to repressed drives that demand expression through destructive means.
The death of Salwan Momika may represent the ultimate manifestation of the death drive: a sacrifice of the self in the name of maintaining the symbolic order. His death is, in a way, part of the continuation of this destructive cycle—a cycle in which symbols are not just fought for but become sacred objects, to be defended or avenged at all costs. Freud would suggest this is a manifestation of societal repression playing out in violent, irrational ways.
Jung: The Shadow and Collective Unconscious
Onwards to the next thinker; Jung’s idea of the shadow can be applied to the way these symbols are viewed. When something as sacred as the Quran is burned, it forces people to confront not only the sacred and the profane but also their shadow selves—those repressed aspects of their identity and society. The act of burning the Quran becomes a projection of this shadow, representing something that challenges the entire collective unconscious of a community.
In Jungian terms, the burning may represent the integration of the shadow in the sense that it forces the collective to face its darker instincts, such as fanaticism, intolerance, and violence. The response, rather than being purely defensive, may reflect a projection of these negative elements onto the symbol. The death of Salwan Momika, then, may be seen as an attempt to purge or destroy this projection, attempting to annihilate the shadow aspect that the burning of the Quran has uncovered.
Bataille: The Sacred and the Transgressive
Finally, Bataille’s ideas on sacrifice and the sacred provide a lens through which to understand the deeper motivations of the symbolic war. Bataille believed that violence, transgression, and sacrifice are all deeply intertwined with the sacred. In this case, the Quran, as a sacred symbol, must be protected or avenged with an equal level of violence and sacrifice.
The burning of the Quran and the murder of Salwan Momika can be understood as ritualistic acts—an exchange of one kind of sacrilege for another. For Bataille, this is a form of sacred expenditure—the destruction of the symbol and the subsequent violence against the one who destroyed it are part of a cycle of endless transgression. The strength of the symbolism necessitates the ultimate sacrifice of Salwan Momika’s death, thereby reinforcing the notion that in such a symbolic system, the preservation of the sacred object takes precedence over human life.
The War of Symbols and the Loss of Life’s Sanctity
At its core, this conflict is a war of symbols, where the sanctity of life is overshadowed by the sanctity of objects, texts, and ideologies. What this reveals, from a psychological and philosophical standpoint, is a profound alienation—the loss of meaning in human life when it becomes secondary to symbols, symbols that, in turn, are distorted in a media-driven hyperreality.
In the end, whether the book or the person is more sacred, the act of reducing human life to a mere reaction to an object of belief points to a dangerous dynamic: the collapse of the value of human existence in favor of defending ideas that are, at their core, deeply rooted in our shared symbolic frameworks, but which are at the same time, empty of real, tangible human connection. This tension between the real and the symbolic, the living and the dead, echoes through the work of these philosophers and psychologists—each pointing to a deep crisis of meaning in a world increasingly driven by symbols rather than the sanctity of life itself.
The meat of the issues: The Muslim Perspective: Confronting the Profane and the Sacred
From a Jungian viewpoint, for the Muslim community, the burning of the Quran is more than just an act of desecration. It’s a violent rupture in the Symbolic Order that forces confrontation with the shadow. The Quran is sacred to millions of Muslims, and the act of burning it calls into question the integrity of a belief system that has been a cornerstone of their identity. But Jung would say that the challenge posed by this act doesn’t merely threaten their faith or the sanctity of the Quran—it also calls them to look inward, at the darker parts of their psyche and culture that they may have repressed.
The shadow in this case could manifest in the form of fanaticism, intolerance, and violence. These aspects are not necessarily inherent to Islam itself but can exist in any religious or ideological community, repressed and unacknowledged. By confronting such a blatant disrespect for something they hold sacred, Muslims might feel compelled to act out of what Jung would call repressed anger or fear—an intense defensive reaction that might even turn violent. This would be a projection of their shadow, where instead of confronting their inner aggression or intolerance, they project these feelings outward, onto the individual responsible for the act.
In Jungian terms, the shadow is often externalized when repressed aspects of the self become unbearable to face. Instead of acknowledging the potential for fanaticism or violence in their own beliefs, some individuals might see the act of burning the Quran as a provocation that justifies any kind of retaliation. The violence that results can be seen as an attempt to destroy the externalized shadow in the hopes of purging those darker aspects from the community itself.
For those Muslims who feel angered or offended, the burning of the Quran becomes an almost archetypal violation, triggering unconscious fear of existential threat. In their defense of the Quran, they might unknowingly fall into a pattern of reactive aggression—furthering a cycle of violence, perpetuating the very dynamics of intolerance that the initial act sought to provoke. The external conflict (the burning) thus becomes a reflection of the internal struggle to reconcile both the sacred and the profane, to integrate the repressed elements of aggression or anger.
The Radical Perspective: Projection of the Shadow onto Islam
Now, looking at the other side, where individuals or groups radicalize against Islam or Muslims, the shadow takes on a different shape. These individuals or groups may view Islam not as a religion to be understood or respected, but as a threat to their own cultural or ideological identity. In Jungian terms, their shadow is comprised of the unconscious fears, prejudices, and unresolved conflicts that they project onto Islam and its followers.
For these radicals, the burning of the Quran becomes an act of symbolic annihilation, not just against the Quran, but against the image of Islam itself. This is often rooted in deep unconscious fears—fears of the “other,” of losing their own cultural or national identity, or even of an existential threat posed by different belief systems. Rather than confronting the underlying causes of their fear (like historical trauma, misinformation, or cultural anxiety), they project these unresolved issues onto Islam, casting it as the “enemy” that must be eradicated.
Jung would argue that by attacking the Quran, these radicals are externalizing their shadow, but in a much more destructive way. The shadow in this context represents ignorance, hatred, and misunderstanding—but it also includes the repressed aspects of their own identity that they are unable or unwilling to face. For example, some of these radicals may have internalized negative stereotypes of Muslims, leading them to view all Muslims through a distorted lens. This projection is dangerous because it allows them to justify acts of violence and dehumanization in the name of self-preservation.
In a Jungian sense, this projection is a psychological defense mechanism. By attacking the symbol of the Quran, they feel that they are confronting what they perceive as a threat to their values or way of life. However, this defense is fundamentally flawed. It is not the Quran or Islam itself that is the true problem, but the radical’s inability to reconcile their own fears, uncertainties, and repressed desires. The Quran, in this case, functions as a scapegoat, and the act of burning it becomes a symbolic attempt to purify or rid themselves of the “other”—but in doing so, they only reinforce the cycle of violence and ignorance.
Jung’s Integration of the Shadow: The Need for Collective Self-Awareness
Jung would likely argue that both sides, the Muslims reacting with outrage and the radicals attacking with violence, are involved in unconscious projections of their own repressed shadows. The collective unconscious of both groups is driving these responses, but without awareness or integration of the shadow, both communities remain stuck in a cycle of unconscious conflict.
The true path toward healing, from a Jungian perspective, would be the integration of the shadow—recognizing and accepting the darker aspects of both individual and collective psyches. For Muslims, this could mean confronting the shadow of fanaticism and intolerance within their own community, acknowledging that the sacred is not beyond questioning and that the violence done in its name is not a path to sanctity. For radicals, this could mean confronting their fear of the unknown, their unacknowledged prejudices, and their misunderstandings of Islam, and recognizing that they too are projecting their own unconscious content onto an external symbol.
The Perpetuation of Violence: A Cycle of Shadow Projection
When you look at the death of Salwan Momika from a Jungian lens, it becomes a tragic culmination of these projections. His act of burning the Quran can be seen as an attempt to bring out the hidden shadows of both communities, but rather than leading to an opportunity for self-reflection and integration, it becomes the spark that ignites a cycle of violence.
For Muslims, the response is a projection of anger, fear, and a desire for retaliation. For radicals, it becomes a justification to purge the “other.” In both cases, the cycle of violence and projection continues, with each side seeing the conflict as an external struggle rather than an internal one, where the true battle should be fought—not over symbols or sacred texts—but over the integration of their respective shadows.
Marx and Engels: The Ideology of Symbols and Material Conditions
Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels would likely argue that this symbolic war is not just an abstract ideological battle but a reflection of material conditions and the ways in which religion and symbols are used to maintain power structures. In Marx’s view, religion is the “opium of the people,” a tool used by the ruling class to distract from the real, material struggles of the working class. The defense of sacred symbols, then, can be seen as a way to uphold the status quo, diverting attention from the real issues at hand—such as class inequality, economic oppression, and exploitation.
Engels, in his analysis of society and history, would point out that symbols are not neutral; they are constructed and shaped by the material conditions of the time. The intense focus on the Quran, or any sacred text, as a symbol to protect, reinforces the idea that the defense of the symbolic order takes precedence over addressing the fundamental needs of people—freedom, justice, and equality. This diversion, in a way, keeps people locked in a cycle where the defense of symbols becomes more important than the material conditions of their lives.
“Symbols are not neutral; they are constructed and shaped by the material conditions of the time. The intense focus on the Quran, or any sacred text, as a symbol to protect, reinforces the idea that the defense of the symbolic order takes precedence over addressing the fundamental needs of people.“
In the end, the war of symbols, like all ideological battles, can be seen as part of a larger struggle over control—control of ideas, of resources, and of power. Marx and Engels would suggest that only by addressing the real material conditions of society can we hope to transcend these symbolic struggles and move toward a more just and equitable world.
END NOTE:
In times like these, where the sacred and the profane collide in a symphony of violence, it’s important to remember that the war of symbols is, at its core, a war within the self. The Quran burning, like all symbolic acts, calls us to reflect not just on the other but on ourselves. It forces us to face the shadows within—those repressed parts of our collective psyche that we project onto the world. Whether you are Muslim or not, whether you feel the rage of the desecrated or the fear of the “other,” we are all, in some way, acting out a deeper psychological and existential conflict.
For Muslims, the impulse to defend the sacred is human—we all want to protect what we hold dear. In the face of violence and hatred, our ability to reflect and recognize when we may be slipping into fanaticism and intolerance is the greatest test. The sacred isn’t only found in books or symbols—it is also found in our ability to recognize our shared humanity, to hold our beliefs without demonizing others.
For those who would attack, for those who see in this act a reason to lash out at Islam or its followers, let me remind you: violence against symbols is violence against the self. The fear, hatred, and division you project onto others are reflections of your own repressed anxieties, your inability to reconcile the otherness that is both external and within. What is it about Islam, about difference, that scares you? What do you fear in yourself that you push outward?
The true power of the symbolic war we see unfolding is that it gives us a mirror, and like all mirrors, it shows us not just what we want to see but what we refuse to acknowledge. Let us then not fall into the traps of projection—whether through blind defense or violent offense. Let us instead have the courage to ask, what does this symbol really represent to us? And more importantly, what does it ask of us as human beings?
The Path Forward: Returning to Humanity
Upon contemplating these theories and their relevance to the current conflict, it becomes evident that the battle for symbols must ultimately cede to the battle for human dignity. We can no longer afford to allow symbols, whether religious, national, or ideological, to hold dominion over human lives. We must recognize that while symbols carry immense weight, they are not more valuable than the lives of those who live under their shadow.
For both Muslims and non-Muslims alike, the tragedy is not only in the destruction of sacred objects but in the destruction of the shared human experience. Violence, whether physical or symbolic, only perpetuates a cycle of suffering and alienation. The challenge before us is not merely to defend or desecrate symbols, but to rebuild our shared humanity in a way that transcends the symbolic wars that divide us.
Ultimately, the real conflict is not about defining what is sacred, but rather about our capacity to perceive the sacred within each other. The question is no longer whether the book or the life is sacred, but how we can return to a place where the sanctity of life takes precedence over the sanctity of any symbol. Only then can we hope to escape the cycle of destruction and begin to create a world where we recognize the divinity in each other, no matter our beliefs, backgrounds, or ideologies.
In the end, the greatest symbol is not the Quran, nor the flag, nor the image of a nation or religion. The greatest symbol is our capacity for empathy, for dialogue, and for the shared responsibility of humanizing each other, even in the face of our greatest fears and most violent urges. We have to ask ourselves: Are we ready to face the shadow of the world, or will we continue to project it onto each other?
This is the true cost of the war of symbols: our lives, our integrity, and our ability to remember that we are more than just the symbols we carry. At the heart of this conflict is a fundamental question about what we truly value—symbols or human life. In a world where symbols often take on greater importance than the individuals they represent, we risk losing sight of the most important thing: our shared humanity.
The real challenge isn’t about protecting or destroying sacred symbols, but about restoring the sanctity of life and the ability to see the divine in each other. Only by moving beyond this symbolic war can we hope to rebuild a world that values connection over division.
This isn’t just about freedom of speech or religious rights; it’s a crisis of meaning—an erosion of humanity in a world where symbols no longer unite us but divide us. As we move forward, the question we must ask isn’t which symbol deserves protection, but how do we protect what is truly sacred—the human connection itself? In that connection, not in defending symbols, we will find the way out of this abyss.
References:
Jean Baudrillard
Baudrillard, J. (1994). Simulacra and simulation (S. F. Glaser, Trans.). University of Michigan Press.
(Note: This is his seminal work on simulacra and hyperreality, which discusses how symbols and representations replace reality.)
Carl Jung
Jung, C. G. (1969). The archetypes and the collective unconscious (R. F. C. Hull, Trans.). Princeton University Press.
(Note: This work outlines Jung’s ideas on the collective unconscious and archetypes, which are crucial to understanding the symbolic conflict in my post for further readings.)
Jacques Lacan
Lacan, J. (2006). Écrits: The first complete edition in English (B. Fink, Trans.). W. W. Norton & Company.
(Note: This edition includes key works by Lacan, including his ideas on the mirror stage and the Symbolic Order.)
Sigmund Freud
Freud, S. (2010). The ego and the id (J. Riviere, Trans.). Dover Publications. (Original work published 1923)
(Note: This text addresses Freud’s psychoanalytic theories of the unconscious, including the conflict between the ego and the id, which are relevant to understanding the psychological dimensions of symbolic wars.)
Georges Bataille
Bataille, G. (1988). The accursed share: An essay on general economy (R. Hurley, Trans.). Zone Books.
(Note: This text is crucial for understanding Bataille’s views on excess, violence, and the sacred, which tie into my analysis of sacrificial violence in symbolic conflicts.)
Karl Marx & Engels F.
Marx, K., & Engels, F. (2002). The Communist Manifesto. (S. Moore, Trans.). Penguin Classics. (Original work published 1848).Marx, K. (1990). Critique of Hegel’s Philosophy of Right. (A. W. Wood, Trans.). Cambridge University Press. (Original work published 1843).
(Note: This is to understand the basic of Dialectical Materialism, Marxism basic, and the understandings of the other ideas mentioned above from the perspective of class struggles, resources, status quos etc.)