Every time a major moral scandal erupts in the West, an old debate returns: is everyone treated the same when it comes to the connection between crime and religious identity? The case of Jeffrey Epstein makes this question particularly acute. Not only because of the scale of the crimes, but because of the way they were reported.

Let’s pose a simple hypothesis: what would have happened if he was a Muslim? How often would his religion have been mentioned in headlines, analysis and televised debates? Would he have been seen as an individual, or as representative of an entire world of faith?

Many media critics note that, in practice, Epstein’s religious affiliation was hardly a topic. There were no attempts to link crime with Judaism, no theories about “religious culture” appeared, no calls for theological reform. And in principle this is right: the faults are personal.

However, the controversy arises when it is seen that this principle is not always followed with the same consequence.

In other cases, especially when the perpetrators are Muslims, religious identity often comes to the fore. A single person can easily become a test for the nature of an entire religion. From individual action, one quickly moves to cultural generalization, to questions about sacred texts, to narratives about integration, radicalism or the clash of civilizations.

This logic does not only affect the perpetrators of crimes. Even public figures who have committed no offense can face the same reduction. The case of American politician Zohran Mamdani is often cited as an example: the debate about him shifted from the political agenda to the fact that he is Muslim. He was read not as a candidate, but as a bearer of a larger cultural problem.

At this point the essential question arises: why is one treated as an individual, while the other as a representative?

Part of the answer is related to history. In the wake of the Holocaust, there is an understandable sensitivity to any language that might sound like collective indictment of the Jews. The media try – rightly – not to slip into the biases that have produced tragedies.

But if the principle is right, it should apply to everyone. Otherwise, ethical concern for one group is perceived as a lack of justice for another.

The contrast becomes even more apparent in the reporting of wars. Many media carefully avoid wording that would attribute the actions of a state or government to all Jews – and this is morally correct. But the same caution does not always appear when violence is linked to Muslim perpetrators; there religious generalization often comes easier.

Thus the impression of a different measuring stick is created.

If there is one point to be insisted upon, it is this: no one represents an entire religion through his own crime. Not a rabbi, not an imam, not a priest, not a politician. Extremists represent their ideologies, not millions of believers who live differently.

This standard is not relativization of guilt. On the contrary, it is the only way to keep the responsibility where it belongs, to the individual and to the concrete power structures.

In the end, a simple choice remains: either crime is separated from religion for everyone, or it must be accepted that double standards are being used. Selective morality may seem useful in the short term, but in the long run it produces anger, mistrust and polarization.

A media that wants to be fair must be consistent. Otherwise, from being the guardian of the truth, it risks turning into a producer of prejudice.

Source: prizrenpost