During a speech in an academic setting two weeks ago, Benedict XVI said something that offended many people and made headlines around the world. By way of introducing a discourse on the tension between religion and reason, he quoted a 14th century Byzantine emperor who argued that Islam contained “evil and inhuman” elements. Muslims around the world objected to the quotation.

Even though the pope did not say that he agreed with the emperor’s position, he was forced to issue a personal and public apology—just as Larry Summers had to do after he hypothesized at a conference last year that “issues of intrinsic aptitude” could account for the dearth of women scientists on the faculties of elite universities.

Much has been written in the press about the pope’s speech. According to news reports, Vatican officials had concerns beforehand about how it would be received by Muslims. But the pope, a former theology professor who crafts his own addresses, hoped that his words would begin a global dialogue about the problem of violence perpetrated in the name of religion.

Instead, his words only incited violence. Perhaps more intriguing than the speech, though, was the pope’s apology, which came amid protests and attacks on Christian institutions in countries with large Muslim populations.

“I am deeply sorry for the reactions in some countries to a few passages of my address...which were considered offensive to the sensibility of Muslims,” the pope said five days after the speech at Regensburg, Germany. “These were in fact quotations from a medieval text, which do not in any way express my personal thought.”

Interesting how the pope apologizes here not for giving voice to the idea that Islam is evil but for the “reactions in some countries” to the controversial quotation. He acknowledges that the words “were considered offensive” by Muslims but he does not say that the words were, in fact, offensive. One would expect this type of apology from a politician, not from a spiritual leader who is supposed to possess more than an ounce of honesty and sincerity.

It is much less surprising—but no less galling—when politicians make half-apologies like the one the pope made. In the past two months alone, Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger of California and Sen. George Allen of Virginia have used the half-apology to save face after making insensitive racial remarks.

Schwarzenegger, who is not known for his command of the English language, was caught on tape during a private speech-writing session in March making a ridiculous conjecture about why a Puerto Rican state assemblywoman was so feisty. “I mean Cuban, Puerto-Rican, they are all very hot,” he said. “They have the, you know, part of the black blood in them and part of the Latino blood in them that together makes it.”

Although the assemblywoman in question, Bonnie Garcia, has called herself a “hot-blooded Latina,” Schwarzenegger’s gross generalization about an ethnic group not his own raised eyebrows when it was reported this month in the Los Angeles Times. And so, Schwarzenegger said he was sorry as only a politician can: “Anyone out there that feels offended by those comments, I just want to say I’m sorry, I apologize.”

Like the pope, Schwarzenegger regrets that people were offended by his remarks, not that he said something offensive. The trouble with these half-apologies is that they sound hollow, even if those who offer them are genuinely sorry. Instead of being a humbling experience from which they appear to learn, politicians have turned the act of apologizing into a mechanical exercise in public relations.

The award for the most egregious use of the half-apology (i.e. misuse of the apology) goes to Sen. Allen, who referred to an Indian-American as “macaca, or whatever his name is.”

S.R. Sidarth, a senior at the University of Virginia and volunteer for Allen’s political rival, was the only person of color at an August rally for Allen in southwest Virginia. As is common in political campaigns, Sidarth had been “tracking” Allen around the state all summer, videotaping his appearances in case Allen said something false or inflammatory that Democrat James Webb could use against him.

Sure enough, Allen delivered when he singled out Sidarth and told the crowd: “Let’s give a welcome to macaca, here. Welcome to America and the real world of Virginia.” Which is more offensive, referring to someone as a type of monkey or welcoming an American citizen with dark skin to America?

When asked to explain himself a few days later, Allen said, “I would never want to demean him as an individual. I do apologize if he’s offended by that.” Since Sidarth made clear in interviews that he was offended by the senator’s statements, Allen’s conditional apology (“if he’s offended by that”) sounds insincere and patronizing.

Is it possible that Allen really didn’t know the meaning of the word “macaca,” as he claimed? Sure. But public figures shouldn’t use words they don’t know. Likewise, they shouldn’t quote texts they don’t agree with unless they say so. And they shouldn’t apologize for something unless they are truly sorry. Otherwise they might end up like Larry: unrepentant, and, at least temporarily, unemployed.



Andrew C. Esensten ’07 is a literature and African American studies concentrator in Adams House. His column appears on alternate Thursdays.