SECULARISM AND RELIGIOUS REVIVALISM
Brian Holmes: Disappearance
Just to jump into this interesting thread, I'd suggest that on the one hand, there are the facts, and on the other, their public recognition within institutional frameworks of human rights and democratic governance. What really "disappears" is the public recognition. Take global warming in the US: it has been visible for at least a decade, it has recently even become visible to the US military and the CIA, but it is still not recognized in a way that would demand drawing the consequences. It disappears from the logic of the so-called democratic state, it is excluded from consideration by the institutional mechanisms that would otherwise be required to address it, assess its effects, and intervene.
Consider, for instance, the way the massive loss of life and destruction of poor people's property entailed by the invasion of Panama City in 1989 were for all practical purposes "disappeared." 24 US soldiers were killed, the Pentagon reports 314 deaths among the Panamanian military, and the new Panamanian Ministry of Health reported 201 civilian deaths; while independent estimates range from 1,000 to 4,000. The facts remain partially unknown; their causes remain entirely unrecognized; no consequences have been drawn. The US is said to have invaded Panama for a "Just Cause."
This situation is comparable, in kind if not degree, to the one in Argentina during the late 1970s. The people assassinated by the dictatorship were referred to as the "disappeared." That many thousands of people had died was known by a majority of the population. However it was not permissible to speak of it in public. The extraordinary thing done by the Mothers of the Plaza de Mayo was to bring portraits of the disappeared into the public space, and demand their "appearance with life." What reappeared was not the life of those who had been assassinated, but the life of Argentina as a possible democracy: and this entailed, not just public visibility of the facts of murder, but also legal procedures to draw the consequences (which were only partially completed, with a great many trials having been reopened very recently). read more
Consider, for instance, the way the massive loss of life and destruction of poor people's property entailed by the invasion of Panama City in 1989 were for all practical purposes "disappeared." 24 US soldiers were killed, the Pentagon reports 314 deaths among the Panamanian military, and the new Panamanian Ministry of Health reported 201 civilian deaths; while independent estimates range from 1,000 to 4,000. The facts remain partially unknown; their causes remain entirely unrecognized; no consequences have been drawn. The US is said to have invaded Panama for a "Just Cause."
This situation is comparable, in kind if not degree, to the one in Argentina during the late 1970s. The people assassinated by the dictatorship were referred to as the "disappeared." That many thousands of people had died was known by a majority of the population. However it was not permissible to speak of it in public. The extraordinary thing done by the Mothers of the Plaza de Mayo was to bring portraits of the disappeared into the public space, and demand their "appearance with life." What reappeared was not the life of those who had been assassinated, but the life of Argentina as a possible democracy: and this entailed, not just public visibility of the facts of murder, but also legal procedures to draw the consequences (which were only partially completed, with a great many trials having been reopened very recently). read more
John A. Woodward: RE: Atheism and Peace
I am glad this discussion of 'Atheism and Peace' (the sub discussion of 'Evangelical Internationalism') has taken a turn towards the analytical and away from the rather superficial comparison of religious v. secular Weltanschauungen. I would only like to work off of the list of three discussions so well outlined by Melani in her last post: "1) what does it mean to be an atheist? Is atheism a type of faith?
"2) what does it mean to be religious? Does it require a belief in God? Does it have an inherent political content?
"3) what is the distinction, analytically, between secular and religious?"
Firstly, Melani does excellent work in turning this discussion towards the analytical and back to its basic political roots by parsing out the different micro-discussions that are taking place under this one rubric--for which, I think, we are all grateful. I must, however, take issue with her interpretation of the first of these issues. Afterwards, I will appoach the second issue (to which Melani wrote first) and finally very briefly the last (in what I hope will not be an inordinately long post). 1) Melani McAlister interprets the discussion over atheism and faith as being about "whether atheism is better than belief in god." I think (and please correct me if I am wrong), this is in an attempt to find the discursive roots of the argument somewhere in her original posts about the efficacy of International Evangelism on the political and social worldstage. However, I think her interpretation is a bit hasty. I am not convinced that it is a question of 'belief' as an aspect of the lifeworld, but rather the political / social efficacy of religious 'belief' as opposed to atheistic 'non-belief.' I think what Michael Goldhaber and others have been trying to communicate is the sort of age-old concept of 'bracketing off' religious beliefs from political reasoning when entering the public sphere. That is not to say that religious people cannot still believe in 'God' (or what have you) while carrying on a rational discussion, but that this belief should not be used 'analytically' so to speak. This argument goes towards founding a basic structural separation between the religious and the secular not only in society but in reasoning itself, so that it can be reflected in society. As long as these political ideals meet in the impermanent ground of agreement, then most are happy to let deeper structural issues slide. The problem arises in the face of those who feel a certain right to express religious belief at the expense of 'rationality' in a manner that is contrary to the 'liberal subjects' political / social position. As to the distinction between atheistic 'non-belief' and religious 'belief', the topic that Melani does not address directly, there is also a structural difference that applies to this situation. The atheist non-belief is only applicable in these situations of coming to agreements. In that it is analytical, subject to rational debate, and not limited to a particular ideological framework. This is an ideal personage (Platonically speaking) the shadow of which one comes across far too inoften. As long as the parties of the discussion are not locked into one particular ideological framework, then they represent the idealized concept of the 'atheist.' This is the root, really, of the 'atheistic' persepective in political debate. This leads me to the latter part of 2): Belief in god is far too limited a concept (or expansive) to parse in this manner. Rather, and in order to bring it down to an analytical level, we have to question whether this very belief is used analytically, as a basis for or limit to a reasoned argument. In other words, the belief or non-belief is not the issue; rather, whether or not this belief or non-belief comes into play in making political / social decisions or limiting a coming-to-terms within a socio-political framework. The qualifying 'in God' is what is unnecessary, for the issue is 'belief' in general. Rationalism does not 'believe' in anything other than concepts that are, as Melani points out, "subject to revision." This division works on a limited scale, of course, but when the question becomes should we go to war or not, then the discussion hinges on 'beliefs' and 'morality' to an inordinate scale. Rationalism would suggest that war is not only proper and needed, but *needs* to be against the weaker opponent in order to teach lessons to the stronger ones (Machiavelli). Religion can find reasons for going to war as well (St. Augustine's argument in 'City of God' for example). But, because the ideological structure of religion is command oriented (God says to do this...), the question of revision is limited (within a specific religious community) by this inherently irrational structure. Melani's pragmatic approach suggests that the religious nature of a political ideology is consequential to the coming to an agreement with others that this ideology allows. I completely agree with her basic thesis (or what I assume is her basic thesis) that the alientation of religious beliefs (and consequentially the believers themselves) from the political realm is fundamentally unsound from a political perspective and misconstrues certain social goods undertaken by religious communities. However, the believers need to understand that belief in something in and of itself is not a basis for political or social discussion in a modern, rational lifeworld. It is also necessary to recall that many 'good deeds' undertaken by religious communities are oriented towards a certain religious-political economy rather than the betterment of the world social order. Which brings me to a brief statement on secularism and the religious. An analytical distinction between secular and religious can only be based above lived-experience, intersubjective exchange--i.e. as a structural condition for this lived-experience. It can only be a forced distinction, as well, with clearly demarcated borders. "Give up all [belief], ye who enter here..." should be placed above the door. Otherwise, the inclination is to rely on preconcieved notions (both secular and religious) and that is inherently dangerous. read more
>John A. Woodward
"2) what does it mean to be religious? Does it require a belief in God? Does it have an inherent political content?
"3) what is the distinction, analytically, between secular and religious?"
Firstly, Melani does excellent work in turning this discussion towards the analytical and back to its basic political roots by parsing out the different micro-discussions that are taking place under this one rubric--for which, I think, we are all grateful. I must, however, take issue with her interpretation of the first of these issues. Afterwards, I will appoach the second issue (to which Melani wrote first) and finally very briefly the last (in what I hope will not be an inordinately long post). 1) Melani McAlister interprets the discussion over atheism and faith as being about "whether atheism is better than belief in god." I think (and please correct me if I am wrong), this is in an attempt to find the discursive roots of the argument somewhere in her original posts about the efficacy of International Evangelism on the political and social worldstage. However, I think her interpretation is a bit hasty. I am not convinced that it is a question of 'belief' as an aspect of the lifeworld, but rather the political / social efficacy of religious 'belief' as opposed to atheistic 'non-belief.' I think what Michael Goldhaber and others have been trying to communicate is the sort of age-old concept of 'bracketing off' religious beliefs from political reasoning when entering the public sphere. That is not to say that religious people cannot still believe in 'God' (or what have you) while carrying on a rational discussion, but that this belief should not be used 'analytically' so to speak. This argument goes towards founding a basic structural separation between the religious and the secular not only in society but in reasoning itself, so that it can be reflected in society. As long as these political ideals meet in the impermanent ground of agreement, then most are happy to let deeper structural issues slide. The problem arises in the face of those who feel a certain right to express religious belief at the expense of 'rationality' in a manner that is contrary to the 'liberal subjects' political / social position. As to the distinction between atheistic 'non-belief' and religious 'belief', the topic that Melani does not address directly, there is also a structural difference that applies to this situation. The atheist non-belief is only applicable in these situations of coming to agreements. In that it is analytical, subject to rational debate, and not limited to a particular ideological framework. This is an ideal personage (Platonically speaking) the shadow of which one comes across far too inoften. As long as the parties of the discussion are not locked into one particular ideological framework, then they represent the idealized concept of the 'atheist.' This is the root, really, of the 'atheistic' persepective in political debate. This leads me to the latter part of 2): Belief in god is far too limited a concept (or expansive) to parse in this manner. Rather, and in order to bring it down to an analytical level, we have to question whether this very belief is used analytically, as a basis for or limit to a reasoned argument. In other words, the belief or non-belief is not the issue; rather, whether or not this belief or non-belief comes into play in making political / social decisions or limiting a coming-to-terms within a socio-political framework. The qualifying 'in God' is what is unnecessary, for the issue is 'belief' in general. Rationalism does not 'believe' in anything other than concepts that are, as Melani points out, "subject to revision." This division works on a limited scale, of course, but when the question becomes should we go to war or not, then the discussion hinges on 'beliefs' and 'morality' to an inordinate scale. Rationalism would suggest that war is not only proper and needed, but *needs* to be against the weaker opponent in order to teach lessons to the stronger ones (Machiavelli). Religion can find reasons for going to war as well (St. Augustine's argument in 'City of God' for example). But, because the ideological structure of religion is command oriented (God says to do this...), the question of revision is limited (within a specific religious community) by this inherently irrational structure. Melani's pragmatic approach suggests that the religious nature of a political ideology is consequential to the coming to an agreement with others that this ideology allows. I completely agree with her basic thesis (or what I assume is her basic thesis) that the alientation of religious beliefs (and consequentially the believers themselves) from the political realm is fundamentally unsound from a political perspective and misconstrues certain social goods undertaken by religious communities. However, the believers need to understand that belief in something in and of itself is not a basis for political or social discussion in a modern, rational lifeworld. It is also necessary to recall that many 'good deeds' undertaken by religious communities are oriented towards a certain religious-political economy rather than the betterment of the world social order. Which brings me to a brief statement on secularism and the religious. An analytical distinction between secular and religious can only be based above lived-experience, intersubjective exchange--i.e. as a structural condition for this lived-experience. It can only be a forced distinction, as well, with clearly demarcated borders. "Give up all [belief], ye who enter here..." should be placed above the door. Otherwise, the inclination is to rely on preconcieved notions (both secular and religious) and that is inherently dangerous. read more
>John A. Woodward
Arthur Kroker: Born Again Ideology
Excerpt from: Arthur Kroker (2006) Born Again Ideology: Religion, Technology and Terrorism. Victoria (Canada): CTheory Electronic Books / NWP. Online at: http://www.ctheory.net/articles.aspx?id=546
The Cosmological Compromise
We are witnessing a fundamental sea change in American politics," said Allan Litchman, a professor of political history at American University in Washington. "The divide used to be primarily economics -- between the haves and the have-nots. That's changed now. The divide in American today is religious and racial... The base of the Republican party is not necessarily the 'haves' anymore -- it's the white evangelicals, white devout Catholics, white churchgoers. The base of the Democratic Party is not necessarily the 'nots.' It's African Americans, Jewish Americans, those without any religious affiliation. Our politics revolve around a new cultural polarization.
- Joe Garofoli, ~San Francisco Chronicle,~ March 22, 2005
The foundations of modernity have always been based on an underlying cosmological compromise. Confronted with the incipiently antagonistic relationship between science and religion, western societies have in the main opted for the safer, although definitely less intense, option of splitting the faith-based difference. Under the guise of political pluralism, freedom of religious worship has been consigned to the realm of private belief, whereas the arena of political action has been secured not only for the protection of private rights, but more importantly, for forms of political participation, educational practice, and scientific debates which would, at least nominally, be based on the triumph of reason over faith. If the cosmological compromise overlooked the inconvenient fact that the origins of science specifically, and modernity more generally, were themselves based on a primal act of faith in secularizing rationality, it did contribute an important cultural firewall against the implosion of society into increasingly virulent expressions of religious fundamentalisms. While modern society would no longer aspire, at least collectively, to the ancient dream of salvation, it would have the indispensable virtue of providing a realm of public action where faith-based politics would be put aside in favor of the instrumental play of individual interests.
Consequently, while Max Horkheimer, an early critic of European modernity, could revolt in his writings against the "dawn and decline" of liberal culture, his criticisms were tempered by the knowledge that left to its own devices, the forces of fully consolidated capitalism were as likely to tip in the direction of politically mediated fascism as they were to recuperate the divisive passions of religious idolatry. Like a beautiful illusion all the more culturally resplendent for its ultimate political futility, liberal modernity seemingly represented a thin dividing line between a history of religious conflict and a future of authoritarian politics. With the problem of religious salvation limited to private conscience, the history of western society was thus free to unfold in the direction of a regime of political and economic security. It was as if all modern history, from the bourgeois interests of the capitalist marketplace to the politics of pluralism, were, ontologically speaking, a vast defense mechanism whereby both individuals and collectivities insulated themselves against a resurrection of the problem of salvation in human affairs.
With a false sense of confidence, perhaps all the more rhetorically frenzied for its approaching historical eclipse, the discourse of technological modernism -- western culture's dominant form of self-understanding -- has over the past century confidently predicted the triumph of secular culture and the death of religion. Indeed, when the German philosopher, Heidegger, remarked that technology is the language of human destiny, he had in mind that technology is both present and absent simultaneously: present with ferocious force in the languages of objectification, harvesting, the reduction of subjects to "standing-reserve", and the privileging of abuse value as the basis of technological willing; but marked by an absence as well, namely the retreat of the gods into the gathering shadows of a humanity that has seemingly lost its way in the midst of the frenzy of technological willing. If Heidegger could write so eloquently about a coming age of "completed nihilism" as the key element of technology as our historical destiny, he was only rehearsing again in new key the fatal pronouncements of those other prophets of the future of technoculture: Nietzsche, Weber, and Camus. For example, in _Thus Spake Zarathustra_, Friedrich Nietzsche wrote not so much about the death of god, but about a more primary death, namely the death of the sacred as a resurrection-effect capable of holding in fascination an increasingly restless human subject in open revolt against the absolute codes of metaphysics. With Nietzsche, the modern century resolved to make of itself a fatal gamble -- a "going across" -- with technology as its primary language of self-understanding. Impatient with the slowness of the modern mind to grasp the truly radical implications which necessarily flowed from stripping the absolutes of theodicy from an increasingly instrumental consciousness, Nietzsche went to his death noting that as a philosopher "born posthumously" his intimations of the gathering storm of nihilism would be the historical inheritance of generations not yet born.
read more
The Cosmological Compromise
We are witnessing a fundamental sea change in American politics," said Allan Litchman, a professor of political history at American University in Washington. "The divide used to be primarily economics -- between the haves and the have-nots. That's changed now. The divide in American today is religious and racial... The base of the Republican party is not necessarily the 'haves' anymore -- it's the white evangelicals, white devout Catholics, white churchgoers. The base of the Democratic Party is not necessarily the 'nots.' It's African Americans, Jewish Americans, those without any religious affiliation. Our politics revolve around a new cultural polarization.
- Joe Garofoli, ~San Francisco Chronicle,~ March 22, 2005
The foundations of modernity have always been based on an underlying cosmological compromise. Confronted with the incipiently antagonistic relationship between science and religion, western societies have in the main opted for the safer, although definitely less intense, option of splitting the faith-based difference. Under the guise of political pluralism, freedom of religious worship has been consigned to the realm of private belief, whereas the arena of political action has been secured not only for the protection of private rights, but more importantly, for forms of political participation, educational practice, and scientific debates which would, at least nominally, be based on the triumph of reason over faith. If the cosmological compromise overlooked the inconvenient fact that the origins of science specifically, and modernity more generally, were themselves based on a primal act of faith in secularizing rationality, it did contribute an important cultural firewall against the implosion of society into increasingly virulent expressions of religious fundamentalisms. While modern society would no longer aspire, at least collectively, to the ancient dream of salvation, it would have the indispensable virtue of providing a realm of public action where faith-based politics would be put aside in favor of the instrumental play of individual interests.
Consequently, while Max Horkheimer, an early critic of European modernity, could revolt in his writings against the "dawn and decline" of liberal culture, his criticisms were tempered by the knowledge that left to its own devices, the forces of fully consolidated capitalism were as likely to tip in the direction of politically mediated fascism as they were to recuperate the divisive passions of religious idolatry. Like a beautiful illusion all the more culturally resplendent for its ultimate political futility, liberal modernity seemingly represented a thin dividing line between a history of religious conflict and a future of authoritarian politics. With the problem of religious salvation limited to private conscience, the history of western society was thus free to unfold in the direction of a regime of political and economic security. It was as if all modern history, from the bourgeois interests of the capitalist marketplace to the politics of pluralism, were, ontologically speaking, a vast defense mechanism whereby both individuals and collectivities insulated themselves against a resurrection of the problem of salvation in human affairs.
With a false sense of confidence, perhaps all the more rhetorically frenzied for its approaching historical eclipse, the discourse of technological modernism -- western culture's dominant form of self-understanding -- has over the past century confidently predicted the triumph of secular culture and the death of religion. Indeed, when the German philosopher, Heidegger, remarked that technology is the language of human destiny, he had in mind that technology is both present and absent simultaneously: present with ferocious force in the languages of objectification, harvesting, the reduction of subjects to "standing-reserve", and the privileging of abuse value as the basis of technological willing; but marked by an absence as well, namely the retreat of the gods into the gathering shadows of a humanity that has seemingly lost its way in the midst of the frenzy of technological willing. If Heidegger could write so eloquently about a coming age of "completed nihilism" as the key element of technology as our historical destiny, he was only rehearsing again in new key the fatal pronouncements of those other prophets of the future of technoculture: Nietzsche, Weber, and Camus. For example, in _Thus Spake Zarathustra_, Friedrich Nietzsche wrote not so much about the death of god, but about a more primary death, namely the death of the sacred as a resurrection-effect capable of holding in fascination an increasingly restless human subject in open revolt against the absolute codes of metaphysics. With Nietzsche, the modern century resolved to make of itself a fatal gamble -- a "going across" -- with technology as its primary language of self-understanding. Impatient with the slowness of the modern mind to grasp the truly radical implications which necessarily flowed from stripping the absolutes of theodicy from an increasingly instrumental consciousness, Nietzsche went to his death noting that as a philosopher "born posthumously" his intimations of the gathering storm of nihilism would be the historical inheritance of generations not yet born.
read more
Melani McAlister: RE: Atheism and Peace
I’m responding here to Christopher Young’s comments, plus some of the general debates on religion, secular, atheism, etc.
from Christopher: "Second, I am hoping that Melani can offer some thoughts around her statement "aren't we invited to do -many- things, from fighting wars to cleaning up the environment, "for the sake of our children." I am a bit concerned with this statement, as it implies that we (Evangelicals) are obligated by some theological rule to fight in wars....hmmm, I do not get a sense this is really the case- if one was to take a biblical standpoint. "
I meant to argue something a bit different here. I was responding to Michael Goldhaber’s comments that atheists are less likely to go to war than religious people. My point was that “we” – not Evangelicals, but all of us – are hailed by ideologies that invite us to strong action. These ideologies are often secular in their language or concerns; for example, we are called to do various things “for the sake of our children,” or “for the future of the planet.” The political content of this commitment to the future may be variable: it might be to save the environment, or to support the “war on terror” so that our children are not endangered, or to oppose nuclear weapons, or to fight the Soviets to prevent the spread of communism. Similarly, belief in God is evoked across the political spectrum, from pro- to anti-war, from pro- to anti-environmentalism. read more
from Christopher: "Second, I am hoping that Melani can offer some thoughts around her statement "aren't we invited to do -many- things, from fighting wars to cleaning up the environment, "for the sake of our children." I am a bit concerned with this statement, as it implies that we (Evangelicals) are obligated by some theological rule to fight in wars....hmmm, I do not get a sense this is really the case- if one was to take a biblical standpoint. "
I meant to argue something a bit different here. I was responding to Michael Goldhaber’s comments that atheists are less likely to go to war than religious people. My point was that “we” – not Evangelicals, but all of us – are hailed by ideologies that invite us to strong action. These ideologies are often secular in their language or concerns; for example, we are called to do various things “for the sake of our children,” or “for the future of the planet.” The political content of this commitment to the future may be variable: it might be to save the environment, or to support the “war on terror” so that our children are not endangered, or to oppose nuclear weapons, or to fight the Soviets to prevent the spread of communism. Similarly, belief in God is evoked across the political spectrum, from pro- to anti-war, from pro- to anti-environmentalism. read more