Holocaust Memorial at Budapest's Central Synagogue. The "Tree of Life" stands over the mass grave of those murdered by the Nazis in 1944/5. On the metal "leaves" of the tree are inscribed the family names of some of those victims.

Why was it necessary to wear a skullcap to breakfast? Obviously, the most likely answer would be that it was necessary to wear it at all times.

A skullcap is one of those things that serve no functional purpose at all. It is purely a marker of identity. A symbol. Clearly, this man takes symbolism very seriously.

To one extent or another, all of us value symbolism. To begin with, the very ability to see things as mere symbols, representative in abstract ways of something else, is a marker of human (or at least, higher primate) intelligence. When we manipulate the algebra of x + y = z we are working with symbols. When we tender a ten-dollar bill for a purchase, we are handing over more than a piece of printed paper. But we also use symbols for sentimental and other non-practical reasons. For example, we buy useless souvenirs as mementoes of places we visit, or take photographs even though we know we may never care to look at them again.

Yet, this man stands out. There is something about certain kinds of symbols, loaded with certain kinds of meaning that signify identity (or an intensity of such identity) that is somewhere outside of mainstream. In the modern, secular societies in which many of us live, religious identity and the symbols associated with it are expected to be confined to the private sphere. Announcing you're Hindu before you are asked would get you strange looks. Wearing a skullcap to breakfast, a hijab, or a pendulous crucifix hanging outside one's shirt (unless one is a heavy-metal fan) becomes noticeable.

Religion is one of those areas of activity that relies exclusively on symbols, since at its core it's a matter of faith. The divine cannot be demonstrated in concrete, tangible ways that we can feel, hear or taste. But reverse feedback may also apply, in that religious people learn to invest more importance in the value of symbols.

In fact, throughout history, religious wars have been fought over symbols. Siamese and Cambodian kings waged campaigns to seize jade statues of the Buddha. Hindus and Muslims in India scrap over a site for a temple or mosque.

Even more common have been campaigns to enforce symbolism or to eradicate opposing symbols. The Afghani Taliban blew up the Bamiyan sculptures of the Buddha. The Calvinists cleaned out all statuary from the former Catholic churches they seized during the Reformation. The Red Guards with their cult of Mao Tse-tong went about smashing all kinds of religious and cultural relics while waving the little red book and demanding that everybody else do likewise.

Today we have Wahhabbis enforcing dress codes for women, and all sorts of Muslims rioting over cartoons. Rightwing Protestants insist on the literal inerrancy of the Bible -- a kind of fanatic symbolism -- even as they accuse Roman Catholics of idol-worship.

Religious affinity as a personality trait is linked to social conservatism. They share many characteristics: a respect for authority, deference to custom and tradition, adherence to ritual and social formalities, a demand for group conformity and solidarity and also a high regard for symbols, be they the national flag, a plastic pine tree at Christmas or granny's heirloom brooch.

It may be that those of us who are liberal, non-religious or only weakly religious do not quite appreciate the importance that symbols have. It may well be that related to our make-up as practical, secular people is a pattern of thought that puts more value on functionality than symbolism. If something works, if it delivers a benefit, then well and good. If not, I have no need for it. 

If we operate like this then quite often our impulses come into conflict with those for whom symbolism is important. We feel oppressed that we should be expected to fly the national flag or invest so much emotion in nationality, we think it a waste of time and money to put up Christmas decorations, and buy plastic trees, or real but chopped-down, dead ones. And we feel that little bit imposed upon to be the one who has to safeguard the brooch and pass it on to the next generation. It's so out of style, why can't we just auction it off on Ebay?

This difference in personality means we can't even come to grips with each other in a discussion. A classic example would be the debate over same-sex marriage. One of the more common arguments against it is that allowing same-sex couples to marry devalues marriage, particularly threatening heterosexual marriage.

How can that be? Asks the pro-gay side. How does Janet and Cynthia getting married lead to Mike and Abigail's marital break-up? This argument is utterly illogical.

What we seldom realise is that the argument is never meant to be logical. It is code for saying the symbolism of it is important to the in-group -- people who are heterosexual and who believe in the supremacy of heterosexuality. Outsiders cannot be allowed to avail themselves of the same symbol lest it loses exclusivity (and thus its value as marker and test for privilege) to the in-group. That's what they mean by saying that same-sex marriage would demean and threaten the "institution of marriage". (Actually a clue lies in that very word "institution", suggesting a weight of tradition that is more baggage than honour.)

Fortunately, among gay people are some equally unfathomable conservatives. They want to get married. They want marriage precisely for its symbolism of a commitment to each other -- and its public and state-recognised esteem.

And then precisely for this state-recognised significance, even gay people who have no intention of getting married demand the right to be married if they so choose. Denial of this right becomes symbolic of a continuing inequality.

It's one of the funny ironies of symbols that the more one side invests in one as an exclusive marker, sometimes to the extent of having the state give it out differentially, the more others will contest it. The good thing is when the outsider wants the symbol for the same value that it has, like marriage. You should be so lucky.

The really explosive thing is when those who are not part of the in-group seize upon the symbol to mock it, like the Prophet Mohamed cartoons, or the Jesus cartoons that some Singaporeans get up to (extremist Christianity being a bigger social issue in Singapore than extremist Islam). Unlike marriage, you don't even have partial agreement on what that value is.

What would the man in the breakfast restaurant think, I wonder, if a group of young men, and maybe women, were to descend on the same hotel wearing skullcaps as the latest fashion accoutrement? Or worse, just to mock his religion and identity?

© Yawning Bread