In a recent column for Time (These Terrorist Attacks Are Not About Religion), Kareem Abdul-Jabbar put it bluntly:

“When the Ku Klux Klan burns a cross in a black family’s yard, Christians aren’t required to explain how these aren’t really Christian acts.

Most people already realize that the KKK doesn’t represent Christian teachings. That’s what I and other Muslims long for—the day when these terrorists praising Mohammed or Allah’s name as they debase their actual teachings are instantly recognized as thugs disguising themselves as Muslims.”

At first glance, I find Abdul-Jabbar’s analogy to be compelling. Comparing extremist Muslims to the Ku-Klux-Klan makes a lot of sense. They are both hate-filled violence-prone minorities. However, on closer examination, the analogy begins to fall apart.

For one thing, by whose authority does Abdul-Jabbar assert that the terrorists are “disguising themselves as Muslims” — as opposed to being true Muslims? I assume that members of Al-Qaeda would make the same accusation about Abdul-Jabbar. As I have previously asserted, there are minority segments of all religions. Being a minority, even a violent minority, does not mean you cannot also be a legitimate member of a religion. There are certainly those would claim that advocating violence is as much a part of religious teachings, both Muslim and Christian, as advocating peace.

As for the terrorists who gunned down the staff of Charlie Hebdo — it is true that they are small in number. However, these terrorists were not just a bunch of thugs acting in isolation. They are not, as Abdul-Jabbar suggests, the equivalent of  “bank robbers wearing masks of presidents.”

Rather, the terrorists were trained and backed by Al-Qaeda in Yemen. And Al-Qaeda does not exist in a vacuum. It survives in part because of support from the population and authorities in the countries where they reside. Many Muslims in these countries offer tacit approval of such acts, even if they assert that they would never carry out such acts themselves.

Here is where I believe that Abdul-Jabbar’s Ku Klux Klan analogy is at its most accurate, although not in the way he intended. We shouldn’t look at the analogy from the point of view of a comfortable American living in 2015. Rather, look at it from the perspective of an African-American living in the deep South in the 1950’s.

Here you are, a black person at the time when the Ku Klux Klan’s power and influence were at their height. The Klan may represent only a tiny minority of the Christian population around you. They may represent a distorted view of Christianity, one that Christ himself would reject. Indeed, as a black person, you likely attend a Christian church that holds very different views.

Regardless, you know that none of this really matters. The larger truth is that the Klan survives because it is tolerated by the rest of the community. More than that, much of the community quietly approves of what the Klan is doing, even if they would never participate in its actions.

Indeed, the majority population of the Southern states are overtly racist. As a black person in the South in the 1950’s, you see this every time you are humiliated by the institutionalized racism that surrounds you. You have to go to the back of the bus. You can’t use the “whites only” water fountain. Schools are completely segregated. You can’t buy a house in most neighborhoods of a city. You can’t even vote. And you risk getting beaten by the police for challenging any of these restrictions. This racism is sanctioned by the government, all the way from the local councilman to the governor of the state.

This is the full picture of the time of Ku Klux Klan. With this full picture in mind, we see that the analogy to the Muslim situation today is apt, but differently than the way Abdul-Jabbar asserts.

Today, we see a Muslim world in the Middle East where, like the deep South decades ago, the population is unwilling to speak out against the actions of the extremists. Too often, the silence masks a disturbing approval of these actions. The supporters may not represent the majority— but they are far from a trivial component. In many instances, discrimination is institutionalized — even towards other members of the Muslim faith* — as seen in the gross inequality toward women and harsh penalties (including death) for those who rebel against the faith. And, of course, anti-Semitism is rampant everywhere.

The Ku Klux Klan was an extreme manifestation of racism in the South, but not the exclusive or even primary proponent of it. I believe the same is true today for the Muslim extremists in the Middle East.

If and when the day ever comes that the views of Abdul-Jabbar are representative of all parts of the Muslim world, I will happily join Abdul-Jabbar in what he “longs for.” Until then, I contend that these terrorist attacks are about religion — not the religion as Abdul-Jabbar practices it, but religion none-the-less.

* Just saw this today: Egypt student gets 3-year jail term for atheism.

If a religion finds a particular action offensive to its beliefs, shouldn’t we at least attempt to avoid the action, if only out of a show of respect?

In the wake of yesterday’s massacre at a Paris newspaper, the public’s answer tilts clearly towards “no” — at least for those who have adopted “Je suis Charlie” as a rallying cry. More precisely, people are proclaiming that potentially offensive free speech and free expression should not be censored — certainly not by the violent acts of a few. The people at Charlie Hebdo had every right to publish what they did — even if, by depicting satirical images of Muhammad, they were offending many Muslims.

Given the violence that occurred, this is a relatively easy call to make. If the alternative is to defend the terrorists, there isn’t much room for debate.

The question often becomes more nuanced, however, if you remove the violence and simply ask the question I posed at the top of this article.

For me, however, the answer remains the same: No.

Let me back up a bit. I am not advocating being gratuitously insulting to a religion. Nor am I in any way supporting behavior that could be viewed as discriminatory or racist. I also believe that unqualified respect should be expected in certain cases. For example, no matter how much you disagree with a particular religion, I believe you should be respectful when on their turf. In other words, if you are inside a synagogue, church or mosque, you should observe the customs of the institution, even if you disagree with them.

Beyond that, we should give and expect to receive respect in most interactions. But there are limits. In the context of public discussion, for example, we should be as free to be critical of religion — even to the point of being insulting or offensive — as we would be for any other entity. In the op-ed pages of a newspaper, it is acceptable to be hypercritical of politicians — or political groups as a whole. Similarly, movie reviewers are permitted (some might say encouraged) to say extremely negative things about a film, even things that will undoubtedly be hurtful to the people who made the movie. No one claims such writing should be off-limits, out of respect to the people who might otherwise be offended. Even if you believe a writer has gone beyond the limits of decency and good taste, you would still defend his right to state his opinions. At least I hope so. I see no reason why critical writing about religion should be an exception. Religion deserves no more or less respect than these other institutions.

More generally, you can be offensive to a religion even without the intention of being critical. Depicting (non-satirical) images of Muhammad potentially falls into this category. Attempting to avoid such actions is an especially slippery slope on which to embark. For example, suppose I told you that there is a religion that believes all paintings hung in public places, such as museums, should be hung upside down. This is out of respect to God, as it allows him to see the paintings properly oriented when he looks down on them from heaven. If you were the curator of a museum, would this knowledge lead to rehang all your paintings? I would hope not. Would you change your mind if I told you that that there were more than 10 million members of this religion and they all found your behavior to be extremely offensive? Again, I would hope not.

There is a limit to what we will or should do to accommodate others’ religions. We cannot allow free expression be held hostage by the myriad of odd beliefs of the hundreds of religions that exist in the world. I’m not advocating unnecessarily going out of your way to be provocative. But neither should you be fearful of being provocative if you feel it is justified. That is why I believe it is acceptable for publications to include images of Muhammad, whether or not members of the Muslim religion object. In Paris yesterday, we saw one horrific consequence of believing otherwise.

[For related coverage, see yesterday’s column.]