There are two warring camps. On one side are radical secularists or 'exclusionists', who insist that religion has no place in public life and should be excluded from public debate. On the other side are 'inclusionists', who insist on free and open democratic debate, and welcome both religious and secular arguments in this.

The former base their argument on a strict separation of state and religion, but I believe there is a critical difference between a healthy separation of religion and state, and an absolutist radical secularism that denies all public manifestation of religion.

The contempt of radical secularists for religion is demonstrated in excluding any reference to Europe's Christian heritage from the European Constitution's preamble while mentioning ancient Greece, Rome and the Enlightenment, which spawned secular humanism (a materialist worldview rejecting belief in God or a future life). Even Poland's self-proclaimed atheist President Alexander Kwasniewski denounced as shameful the Constitution's 'godless' tone.

To be sure, allowing religion in public life has risks Religious entrepreneurs can abuse religious ideology to promote subversive causes. Laws like the Maintenance of Religious Harmony Act seek to prevent precisely this. Abusing religion to justify violence, subversion, or to coerce belief within a multiracial, multi-religious democracy cannot be condoned.

On the other hand, a blanket exclusion of religious values from public life carries the serious risk of eroding constitutional guarantees of religious liberty, and censoring free speech, particularly that of the 80 per cent of Singaporeans professing religious faith.

Singapore's Constitution protects an individual's right to accept or reject religious belief. However, a secular state is not synonymous with an anti-theistic state, like the Communist model.

'Secularism' has various meanings, ranging from state hostility to indifference towards religion, with implications for how strictly 'religion' and 'state' are separated.

Radical secularists contend that religion should be 'privatised', that preachers should confine their sermonising to their flock and not throw stones at others who hold contrary views on moral-political hot potatoes like euthanasia and whether homosexuals should be allowed to enter into civil marriage.

To my mind, however, such radical secularism is riddled with a dangerous ideological bias. It seeks to impose as public dogma its own anti-theistic and personally determined morality. It ignores the fact that religious claims can be rational and widely apprehended, and that secular claims can be irrational in their own way.

Free speech requires protecting the speech we dislike. In a democracy, the thinking individual must be able to consider all views to facilitate informed decisions.

The false notion that 'secular' equals neutral and that 'religion' connotes ignorance or prejudice must be laid to rest. A belief in morality means we all, at some stage, make moral judgments; there is no morally neutral ground.

As philosopher Immanuel Kant taught, the logic of any moral argument is its capacity to be universalised. We should evaluate the merits of any view and ask 'Does it serve the common good?'

Indeed, values from secular and religious sources can overlap. For example, both religionists and non-religionists may join hands in opposing pornography. Both may also be concerned with public issues like the spread of Aids, and whether policies might intensify the problem by encouraging promiscuity, thereby undermining the common good. In some cases, the call to 'live and let live' may be a call to indifference, not community.

The Singapore model of secularism is not atheistic or hostile to religion; government is 'secular' because it derives its authority from democratic processes, not divine mandate.

The state is not strictly separated from religion; indeed the Constitution itself obliges the government to protect the religious interests of Malays as the indigenous people. But the government seeks to treat all religions even-handedly. As part of the social compact, it governs and seeks to engage all Singaporeans in public affairs, regardless of religious or secular affiliation.

Former prime minister Goh Chok Tong displayed this enlightened attitude In his National Day rally speech last year, he noted with approval how 'conservative Singaporeans and religious leaders' had articulated their views on hiring gays in sensitive civil servant positions 'clearly but responsibly'.

Public policy issues which determine how we order our life have a moral basis; being 'public', they have implications going beyond making private choices. All Singaporeans, whether of a religious or non-religious persuasion, have the right to speak and influence public policy.

Historically too, religious convictions have underpinned important social reforms, such as the anti-slavery and child labour protection work of British parliamentarians William Wilberforce (1759-1833) and Lord Shaftesbury (1801- 1885).

Thoughtful debate over how to shape our life as a community is precluded if religious voices are gagged. This would disenfranchise people of religious faith, be undemocratic, and cause social disharmony.