After I recently wrote about the absence of the Danish bishops from the presentation of the Sappho Prize to Raymond Ibrahim, I received a phone call from a Church of Denmark priest who introduced himself as a member of the Think Tank for Persecuted Christians. He had read the article, found it interesting, and was pleased that the issue had been raised.
A visit to the think tank’s website shows that its primary purpose is “to communicate documented knowledge about violations and abuses of religious freedom nationally as well as internationally.” On that basis, we at the Danish Free Press Society decided to invite the Think Tank for Persecuted Christians to our Friday Bar event to speak about their work. Not as a debate. Not as a confrontation. But as an opportunity to spread awareness about an issue they themselves — by their own account — are deeply engaged in, and which also forms the very core of Raymond Ibrahim’s research.
The invitation was extended.
And then something interesting happened.
The Danish Free Press Society’s vice-chairman, Michael Pihl, subsequently made contact in order to finalise the arrangement. He made it clear that this would be a presentation. The floor would be entirely theirs. They could say exactly what they wished about their work with persecuted Christians.
And yet hesitation emerged.
We were told that the matter would first have to be discussed with the board. And when the obvious follow-up question was asked — why that should even be necessary — the answer came. Not as a vague formulation, but as a direct explanation:
It was due, he said, to “political considerations and consideration for our partners.”
Shortly afterwards, the call was abruptly ended.
Not with a genuine refusal or an explanation open to discussion — but with a shutdown. That, in itself, is striking.
This was not an invitation to a hostile debate or a confrontation, but simply an invitation to speak about their own work on a platform willing to give them a voice. And yet the answer was — in practice — no.
The decisive point is not the refusal, but the reasoning behind it.
And there is really only one obvious explanation:
The messenger.
The problem is not the message, but who is providing the platform for it.
At that point, we enter a familiar — though rarely articulated — mechanism within Danish public life: people are eager to stand on the “right” side of the “right” causes and to demonstrate engagement and responsibility. But only as long as this can take place within the proper settings — among the proper people and in the proper contexts.
When the context changes, so does the willingness.
This is less about cynicism than about reputation. Who are you associated with? What signals does it send? What might it cost you? That is precisely why the reference to “political considerations” and “consideration for our partners” is so revealing. It exposes the fact that participation is not judged solely on the substance of the issue itself, but on the relationships and positions one believes may be jeopardised by taking part.
The result is the same: the cause itself becomes secondary.
If the real priority were to raise awareness about persecuted Christians, then any opportunity to reach an audience would be valuable — especially audiences outside the usual circles, even when that carries the risk of associations one may not fully share.
This points back to the central argument of my original article. Then, the issue was silence. Bishops who failed to show up. An absence that could not plausibly be explained away as coincidence, but had to be understood as a choice.
In the case of the Think Tank for Persecuted Christians, we are seeing a related mechanism in a different form: not silence, but selective participation.
People are willing to speak — but not everywhere. They are willing to engage — but not in every setting. And attention is only directed towards problems within frameworks that carry no real social or reputational cost.
The difference may appear significant. In practice, however, the outcome is much the same.
The uncomfortable is avoided.
This is not a criticism of particular individuals. It is a description of a broader tendency, one especially prevalent on the political left. A mode of navigation that increasingly shapes institutions, organisations, and parts of public discourse.
And the consequences are not difficult to see.
When a cause is only advanced under the right conditions, it loses weight. When concern for relationships, status, and partner organisations takes precedence, engagement becomes conditional. And when even those working with persecution choose their platforms according to whom they feel they can afford to be seen alongside, then it is no longer the cause itself that determines the direction.
The persecution of Christians is not a niche issue. It is a global reality affecting millions of people. That reality does not change depending on who provides the platform for discussing it. What changes is the willingness to speak about it.
And when that willingness disappears the moment the setting is no longer considered acceptable, then what remains is no longer an engagement capable of carrying the cause itself. It is an engagement that exists only as long as it comes at no cost.
