Having argued that we should not view Islam as essentially intolerant, I now ask, "What if we did?" Or, more generally, what if we identify any particular sect as essentially illiberal and intolerant?
It's all very well for sects A, B, C, and D to draw the conclusion that sect E wants no part of extending liberal tolerance to the others, but that doesn't automatically entail that it's a good idea to start persecuting sect E with fire and the sword. On the contrary, sect E's day-to-day activities are likely to be relatively harmless, and we could not justify criminalising them. The speech from sect E's members will still have value - there are good Millian reasons to extend freedom of speech even to the intolerant (for one thing, it's good for us to have our views challenged). Besides, there will be grey areas; the truth of the matter is that many sects show signs of intolerance, and perhaps none can be thought of as entirely pure if we apply the standards I've been using very strictly. Some public figures, such as Cardinal Pell, live in the grey areas - recall that the Catholic hierarchy gives lip service to a separation of Church and State and claims that its miserable morality - no contraception, no divorce, no stem cell research, no gay rights - has a basis in reason.
It may be that, in practice, there is little more that we should do about sect E, other than complaining and becoming distrustful. However, the overall political circumstances do shift if we come to the conclusion that certain sects (sects that are not so marginal as to merit passing over as irrelevant) are subverting the general ethos of liberal tolerance, or if there is pervasive low-level subversion of that ethos from a variety of sects. I think that, in those circumstances, we'd merely engage in some consciousness raising, but probably take no official action. The consciousness raising might make a member of sect E unelectable as a member of parliament, but there would be no law forbidding her from standing for public office.
But maybe there's more that we could do without abandoning our own values. In Turkey, a political party representing sect E would probably be banned. I don't propose that we'd go so far in Australia or other Western countries, and it probably would not be constitutional in any event.
This conundrum may suggest why it is a good reason to have constitutional provisions to protect us from the sect E's of the world. We may have to extend them a lot of tolerance in practice, even if they haven't signed up to make it mutual, but a strong Bill of Rights could severely limit what they will ever actually achieve.
I'm not sure of the answer to this one, so I'll throw the question open.
About Me
- Russell Blackford
- Australian philosopher, literary critic, legal scholar, and professional writer. Based in Newcastle, NSW. My latest books are THE TYRANNY OF OPINION: CONFORMITY AND THE FUTURE OF LIBERALISM (2019); AT THE DAWN OF A GREAT TRANSITION: THE QUESTION OF RADICAL ENHANCEMENT (2021); and HOW WE BECAME POST-LIBERAL: THE RISE AND FALL OF TOLERATION (2024).
Thursday, October 25, 2007
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
What I wish Waleed Aly had said
In People Like Us, liberal Muslim intellectual Waleed Aly spends a whole chapter attacking the idea of a separation of Church and State, and defending Islam from the charge that it is incompatible with secularism. He argues that the separation of Church and State makes no sense from a Muslim perspective, because Islam (or at least Sunni Islam) has no established hierarchy that could be called its "church" and no official doctrine that it could impose through the powers of the state. He is scathing about secularists in way that I find disquieting.
He describes an occasion when he spoke on a panel and was subsequently asked by a number of audience members who pressed him on his attitude to the separation of Church and State. He found the whole idea confusing, thinking it sufficient that if a politician brings specifically religious moral attitudes that are out of touch with the mainstream, then he or she will be electorally punished. In other words, democracy is the cure for any untoward imposition of religious doctrine and morality through state power.
Of course, audience members found this unreassuring, and it's no wonder that a number of them kept pursuing the issue (evidently with mounting frustration at his seeming obtuseness). Later, Aly spoke to one of his interlocutors but evidently still gave her no real reassurance.
What is surprising is that Aly never mentions Locke or Mill in his discussion of all this, and never discusses the principles on which a liberal state - such as Australia - stands. He imagines that the phrase "separation of Church and State" is all about struggles between kings and popes - issues that are of no interest to anyone in the contemporary context. He genuinely seems to have no understanding of what is really at stake in this discussion.
The question is not about kings and popes (though it is certainly relevant to the temporal ambitions of the current pope). It is about how religionists of any stripe can reassure the rest of us that they will not use the coercive power of the state to impose their contentious (and, let's face it, usually miserable) moral doctrines, should they come to command an electoral majority. We are concerned about the tyranny of the majority, not about the attempts of a minority to bring others into line ... for which political hubris the remedy would, indeed, be an electoral one.
Of course, it does not matter whether or not what is being imposed comes from a literal "church". The fear is that politicians who are able, somehow, to command an electoral majority will bring their religions' doctrines to the table and attempt to impose their doctrines on an unwilling minority. This is something that we have good reason to fear. Islam, of course, is a minority religion in Australia, but it may well become more popular in the future and meanwhile there could easily be cases of Muslims entering into alliances over particular issues with other religionists. Aly's interlocutors obviously wanted to be reassured about all that, and Aly failed to say anything helpful.
Unfortunately, the impression has been created by many Muslim leaders that Islam seeks to control all aspects of individuals' lives and does not shrink from using secular power to achieve its aim. We are all well aware of extreme examples in recent history, such as Afghanistan under the benighted Taliban regime. Until that fear is laid to rest, it is quite rational for the rest of us to fear Islam's political ambitions - which is one reason why the word "Islamophobia" is so stupid. A phobia is an irrational fear, but secular Westerners actually have perfectly rational reasons to be at least wary of Islam, as Aly himself fully appreciates and acknowledges.
It's true, of course, that religionists - Muslims; Christians; Hindus; fire worshippers; devotees of Thor, Aphrodite, Baal, or Quetzalcoatl; or whatever - often feel that their religious identity is something "given" rather than chosen, and somehow essential to them. It is not possible for them simply to leave it behind like checked-in luggage when they enter the public sphere.
Fine. That's understandable, but it raises the bleak possibility that they will use the public sphere as a means by which to impose religious doctrines, or specifically religious morality. Some may even see nothing wrong with this - and those are the people whom we have every cause to fear. If the Quetzalcoatlists or the Thorians take this stance, then they stand outside of the Enlightenment compromise ... and just as they can give no guarantee of tolerating the rest of us if they come to wield the coercive power of the state, they have no claim to toleration by us. If that is their attitude, they are outside the Lockean circle, beyond the pale of liberal tolerance.
However, it's way, way, premature to conclude that Islam falls into such a category. As I've written in earlier posts, Locke thought that atheism and Roman Catholicism were beyond the pale, but this has turned out not to be true - atheists can be peaceful and honest citizens as much as anyone, and while the current Catholic leadership appears less and less interested in the Lockean concept as it is understood today, and more and more inclined to impose its views by force of law where it can, Catholics have also made good citizens. The expansion of the circle of liberal tolerance to include a wide range of religious and non-religious worldviews has been a great success story in Western history. There is every reason to think that almost any religious sect can come to value the political benefits of voluntarily joining the circle.
So what should Waleed Aly have said?
Well, he could have said something like this:
"I cannot guarantee that I'll come to the political table setting aside my identity as a Muslim. But I can guarantee you this much: from within my understanding of Islam, I accept the political values of individual liberty and religious tolerance. I do not make the Christian distinction between Church and State, but I realise that what you are really concerned about is whether I understand that I am living in a liberal society and whether I accept the distinction between sin and crime. Yes, I do understand and accept those things. From within my own view of the world, I can see the necessity for tolerance of all views that advocate reciprocal tolerance. I also accept the political need for something like John Stuart Mill's harm principle (we can discuss the details of the 'something like', but I am not using weasel words). I can say unequivocally that it would not be my intention to prohibit behaviour merely on the ground that it is theologically wrong in my understanding of Islam. I will look for clear secular harm before I invoke the might of the state in an attempt to restrict liberty. I will not invoke the superiority of a way of life that is favoured by Islam, and I will respect the right of others to pursue their own conceptions of the good, however foreign to Islam's values. Nothing in my understanding of Islam prevents me acting in accordance with those liberal political values, knowing that I live in a liberal country."
I have hopes that Aly could give that undertaking - or something very like it - sincerely. Elsewhere in his book, he shows that he does value religious tolerance and does understand the distinction between the theological notion of sin and the secular political notion of crime. Many liberal Muslims, perhaps most, could probably give such an undertaking - perhaps with more sincerity than some Christians.
That is what we need from religionists when they enter the public sphere. When Aly was grilled by the audience at his panel session, that is all he need have said.
It would be reassurance enough.
He describes an occasion when he spoke on a panel and was subsequently asked by a number of audience members who pressed him on his attitude to the separation of Church and State. He found the whole idea confusing, thinking it sufficient that if a politician brings specifically religious moral attitudes that are out of touch with the mainstream, then he or she will be electorally punished. In other words, democracy is the cure for any untoward imposition of religious doctrine and morality through state power.
Of course, audience members found this unreassuring, and it's no wonder that a number of them kept pursuing the issue (evidently with mounting frustration at his seeming obtuseness). Later, Aly spoke to one of his interlocutors but evidently still gave her no real reassurance.
What is surprising is that Aly never mentions Locke or Mill in his discussion of all this, and never discusses the principles on which a liberal state - such as Australia - stands. He imagines that the phrase "separation of Church and State" is all about struggles between kings and popes - issues that are of no interest to anyone in the contemporary context. He genuinely seems to have no understanding of what is really at stake in this discussion.
The question is not about kings and popes (though it is certainly relevant to the temporal ambitions of the current pope). It is about how religionists of any stripe can reassure the rest of us that they will not use the coercive power of the state to impose their contentious (and, let's face it, usually miserable) moral doctrines, should they come to command an electoral majority. We are concerned about the tyranny of the majority, not about the attempts of a minority to bring others into line ... for which political hubris the remedy would, indeed, be an electoral one.
Of course, it does not matter whether or not what is being imposed comes from a literal "church". The fear is that politicians who are able, somehow, to command an electoral majority will bring their religions' doctrines to the table and attempt to impose their doctrines on an unwilling minority. This is something that we have good reason to fear. Islam, of course, is a minority religion in Australia, but it may well become more popular in the future and meanwhile there could easily be cases of Muslims entering into alliances over particular issues with other religionists. Aly's interlocutors obviously wanted to be reassured about all that, and Aly failed to say anything helpful.
Unfortunately, the impression has been created by many Muslim leaders that Islam seeks to control all aspects of individuals' lives and does not shrink from using secular power to achieve its aim. We are all well aware of extreme examples in recent history, such as Afghanistan under the benighted Taliban regime. Until that fear is laid to rest, it is quite rational for the rest of us to fear Islam's political ambitions - which is one reason why the word "Islamophobia" is so stupid. A phobia is an irrational fear, but secular Westerners actually have perfectly rational reasons to be at least wary of Islam, as Aly himself fully appreciates and acknowledges.
It's true, of course, that religionists - Muslims; Christians; Hindus; fire worshippers; devotees of Thor, Aphrodite, Baal, or Quetzalcoatl; or whatever - often feel that their religious identity is something "given" rather than chosen, and somehow essential to them. It is not possible for them simply to leave it behind like checked-in luggage when they enter the public sphere.
Fine. That's understandable, but it raises the bleak possibility that they will use the public sphere as a means by which to impose religious doctrines, or specifically religious morality. Some may even see nothing wrong with this - and those are the people whom we have every cause to fear. If the Quetzalcoatlists or the Thorians take this stance, then they stand outside of the Enlightenment compromise ... and just as they can give no guarantee of tolerating the rest of us if they come to wield the coercive power of the state, they have no claim to toleration by us. If that is their attitude, they are outside the Lockean circle, beyond the pale of liberal tolerance.
However, it's way, way, premature to conclude that Islam falls into such a category. As I've written in earlier posts, Locke thought that atheism and Roman Catholicism were beyond the pale, but this has turned out not to be true - atheists can be peaceful and honest citizens as much as anyone, and while the current Catholic leadership appears less and less interested in the Lockean concept as it is understood today, and more and more inclined to impose its views by force of law where it can, Catholics have also made good citizens. The expansion of the circle of liberal tolerance to include a wide range of religious and non-religious worldviews has been a great success story in Western history. There is every reason to think that almost any religious sect can come to value the political benefits of voluntarily joining the circle.
So what should Waleed Aly have said?
Well, he could have said something like this:
"I cannot guarantee that I'll come to the political table setting aside my identity as a Muslim. But I can guarantee you this much: from within my understanding of Islam, I accept the political values of individual liberty and religious tolerance. I do not make the Christian distinction between Church and State, but I realise that what you are really concerned about is whether I understand that I am living in a liberal society and whether I accept the distinction between sin and crime. Yes, I do understand and accept those things. From within my own view of the world, I can see the necessity for tolerance of all views that advocate reciprocal tolerance. I also accept the political need for something like John Stuart Mill's harm principle (we can discuss the details of the 'something like', but I am not using weasel words). I can say unequivocally that it would not be my intention to prohibit behaviour merely on the ground that it is theologically wrong in my understanding of Islam. I will look for clear secular harm before I invoke the might of the state in an attempt to restrict liberty. I will not invoke the superiority of a way of life that is favoured by Islam, and I will respect the right of others to pursue their own conceptions of the good, however foreign to Islam's values. Nothing in my understanding of Islam prevents me acting in accordance with those liberal political values, knowing that I live in a liberal country."
I have hopes that Aly could give that undertaking - or something very like it - sincerely. Elsewhere in his book, he shows that he does value religious tolerance and does understand the distinction between the theological notion of sin and the secular political notion of crime. Many liberal Muslims, perhaps most, could probably give such an undertaking - perhaps with more sincerity than some Christians.
That is what we need from religionists when they enter the public sphere. When Aly was grilled by the audience at his panel session, that is all he need have said.
It would be reassurance enough.
Workplace profanity boosts morale
Via Udo Schuklenk's blog, I came across this enjoyable little story that reports a study of workplace profanity.
The study found that swearing on the job can reduce stress and boost employee morale. Frequent swearing can reinforce solidarity among staff and enable them to express their feelings, such as frustration, and to develop social relationships.
Abusive and offensive swearing should be eliminated where it generates greater levels of stress, rather than helping to relieve it. Up to a point, though, swearing is actually beneficial. Imposing a ban on profanity, and reprimanding staff for it, might seem like strong leadership, according to the research, but it would remove a source of solidarity and could lead to decreased morale and work motivation.
So go ahead, folks. Curse and swear away.
The study found that swearing on the job can reduce stress and boost employee morale. Frequent swearing can reinforce solidarity among staff and enable them to express their feelings, such as frustration, and to develop social relationships.
Abusive and offensive swearing should be eliminated where it generates greater levels of stress, rather than helping to relieve it. Up to a point, though, swearing is actually beneficial. Imposing a ban on profanity, and reprimanding staff for it, might seem like strong leadership, according to the research, but it would remove a source of solidarity and could lead to decreased morale and work motivation.
So go ahead, folks. Curse and swear away.
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Ayaan Hirsi Ali speech
Having used my previous post to criticise Ayaan Hirsi Ali over a recent interview that she gave to Reason magazine, I'll make up for it just a little. Here is the link to this much more likeable speech that she gave not long ago at a conference in the United States (you can easily find the second half - the question-and-answer session - from there, if interested).
In this conference session, she's much more faltering and nervous than when I've seen her in appearances on television. Perhaps she was intimidated by speaking in front of such intellectual heavies as Richard Dawkins and Daniel Dennett. If you go to the end of part two, she seems humbled and overwhelmed after Dawkins speaks from the floor, offering to nominate her for the Nobel Peace Prize.
Be that as it may, her story is moving, and she's certainly a charismatic figure. For now, I'm still a fan, but I'm getting worried that she's drifting into an extremism of her own. I'm not so much bothered that Hirsi Ali associates with relatively right-wing organisations, such as the American Enterprise Institute - that's her business, and ironically enough no left-leaning think tank is likely to fund the work of a public intellectual with such an uncompromisingly anti-religious message. I'm concerned, rather, that she seems unable to envision a way to engage with the world of Islam without violent conflict.
In the speech, and elsewhere, she has good, solid stuff to say about the Enlightenment ideas and values that she studied in the Netherlands, on the long intellectual and emotional journey that has made her one of the most prominent of all critics of Islam. Now, if she could just find a policy response to the tension between Islam and the West ... beyond the simplistic idea that the former must be "crushed" before it can be transformed.
That's too negative, too hopeless, much too hard to stomach. We need to find something better.
In this conference session, she's much more faltering and nervous than when I've seen her in appearances on television. Perhaps she was intimidated by speaking in front of such intellectual heavies as Richard Dawkins and Daniel Dennett. If you go to the end of part two, she seems humbled and overwhelmed after Dawkins speaks from the floor, offering to nominate her for the Nobel Peace Prize.
Be that as it may, her story is moving, and she's certainly a charismatic figure. For now, I'm still a fan, but I'm getting worried that she's drifting into an extremism of her own. I'm not so much bothered that Hirsi Ali associates with relatively right-wing organisations, such as the American Enterprise Institute - that's her business, and ironically enough no left-leaning think tank is likely to fund the work of a public intellectual with such an uncompromisingly anti-religious message. I'm concerned, rather, that she seems unable to envision a way to engage with the world of Islam without violent conflict.
In the speech, and elsewhere, she has good, solid stuff to say about the Enlightenment ideas and values that she studied in the Netherlands, on the long intellectual and emotional journey that has made her one of the most prominent of all critics of Islam. Now, if she could just find a policy response to the tension between Islam and the West ... beyond the simplistic idea that the former must be "crushed" before it can be transformed.
That's too negative, too hopeless, much too hard to stomach. We need to find something better.
Ayaan Hirsi Ali and civilisational war
This interview that Ayaan Hirsi Ali did with Reason magazine is another example of the kind of thing that we don't need to hear from the New Atheists.
Hirsi Ali's rhetoric, her claim that we are already involved in a civilisational war with Islam, is all wrong. For example, is it really tenable to claim that we are "at war" with the communities of "very liberal" Pakistani and Indian Muslims in the US that she refers to in the interview (leave aside all the good, liberal Muslims elsewhere)? She denies that moderate Islam is the solution to current tensions between radical Islam and the West, but that is a massively premature claim, and meanwhile what are those liberal Muslim communities supposed to do if the US takes her advice and really does adopt an official stance of warfare with Islam itself?
Let's be clear: I've been a fan. I admire many things about Ayaan Hirsi Ali - her intellect, her courage, her dignity and composure, and even (let's be politically incorrect) her beauty. I totally enjoyed Infidel, and I fully support her campaign against the barbaric elements within Muslim cultures - the honour killings, the crazy fatwas, the genital mutilation of girls, the violent prohibition of apostasy, the theocratic aspirations of benighted mullahs. I don't sententiously call Islam a religion of peace, because Islam is not one thing - and often it is nothing of the sort. Far from it.
But when she claims, point-blank, that we're in a war against Islam itself, that's surely a dangerous exaggeration. Yes, we must confront theocratic tendencies, from whatever source, with the power of our ideas. Yes, we need to re-affirm the Enlightenment and the Millian ideals of liberty. And I agree with Hirsi Ali that new policies may be needed whereby we cease to extend so much tolerance to the truly intolerant. But talk of "war" against an entire world religion, without distinctions and qualifications, really worries me.
I want to see those liberal Muslims, whose existence Hirsi Ali acknowledges, stand up proudly and declare unequivocally that they support Lockean tolerance and individual liberty, that they are glad to join the Enlightenment compromise that desacralises politics, and that they accept, from within their own worldview, that anywhere where Islam can be practised without persecution is already the house of Islam, not the house of war.
But they can hardly do that if Western societies claim to be at war with Islam itself - as opposed to some of us committing to a struggle against all forms of theocracy - and if we actually do commence a policy of persecuting Muslims (we're perilously close to the line already, and we've sometimes stepped over it). The last six years of disastrously incompetent American foreign policy, aided and abetted by Australia's government, among others, have made the situation of liberal Muslims almost impossible, as far as I can see. Let's not make it even worse.
More generally, I'm disappointed with the whole interview. Hirsi Ali is all over the place - none of it seems thought through - though the interviewer gave her ample opportunity to explain her position.
Apart from the recommendation that we close Muslim schools, I couldn't see much there that was concrete. All the stuff about how terrible it is that our enemies (and the extremists concerned are, indeed, our enemies) express their hatred of us by burning our symbols left me thinking, "So what?" Yes, people who hate you will find ways of expressing it. And?
A final thought: this is embarrassing for more moderate people who see themselves as in an intellectual and social struggle against theocratic elements in the modern world.
Speaking for myself, every day I see religious conservatives taking unenlightened political stances on issue after issue - whether it be gay rights, abortion, stem cell research, human enhancement technologies, AIDS policy, or any of a host of others - and I've concluded that it's not good enough just to fight these issues one at a time. The fundamental belief systems of our opponents are the problem. They merit searching, sceptical critique. Accordingly, I cheer for the contributions of Richard Dawkins, AC Grayling, and so on, to public debate. Collectively, these form a natural and valuable response to what we've been seeing from religious conservatives over the past decade.
But that doesn't mean I must cheer for the more warmongering rhetoric of Christopher Hitchens or Ayaan Hirsi Ali, much as they are extraordinarily charismatic individuals whose voices are of great value when they do no more than proclaim the beauty of secularism. When they go further, when they want to declare war - literal war, involving force and violence - against a particular religion, they are going too far. They are going to extremes, and I think we have no choice but to take a stand.
This is not something we've signed up for.
Hirsi Ali's rhetoric, her claim that we are already involved in a civilisational war with Islam, is all wrong. For example, is it really tenable to claim that we are "at war" with the communities of "very liberal" Pakistani and Indian Muslims in the US that she refers to in the interview (leave aside all the good, liberal Muslims elsewhere)? She denies that moderate Islam is the solution to current tensions between radical Islam and the West, but that is a massively premature claim, and meanwhile what are those liberal Muslim communities supposed to do if the US takes her advice and really does adopt an official stance of warfare with Islam itself?
Let's be clear: I've been a fan. I admire many things about Ayaan Hirsi Ali - her intellect, her courage, her dignity and composure, and even (let's be politically incorrect) her beauty. I totally enjoyed Infidel, and I fully support her campaign against the barbaric elements within Muslim cultures - the honour killings, the crazy fatwas, the genital mutilation of girls, the violent prohibition of apostasy, the theocratic aspirations of benighted mullahs. I don't sententiously call Islam a religion of peace, because Islam is not one thing - and often it is nothing of the sort. Far from it.
But when she claims, point-blank, that we're in a war against Islam itself, that's surely a dangerous exaggeration. Yes, we must confront theocratic tendencies, from whatever source, with the power of our ideas. Yes, we need to re-affirm the Enlightenment and the Millian ideals of liberty. And I agree with Hirsi Ali that new policies may be needed whereby we cease to extend so much tolerance to the truly intolerant. But talk of "war" against an entire world religion, without distinctions and qualifications, really worries me.
I want to see those liberal Muslims, whose existence Hirsi Ali acknowledges, stand up proudly and declare unequivocally that they support Lockean tolerance and individual liberty, that they are glad to join the Enlightenment compromise that desacralises politics, and that they accept, from within their own worldview, that anywhere where Islam can be practised without persecution is already the house of Islam, not the house of war.
But they can hardly do that if Western societies claim to be at war with Islam itself - as opposed to some of us committing to a struggle against all forms of theocracy - and if we actually do commence a policy of persecuting Muslims (we're perilously close to the line already, and we've sometimes stepped over it). The last six years of disastrously incompetent American foreign policy, aided and abetted by Australia's government, among others, have made the situation of liberal Muslims almost impossible, as far as I can see. Let's not make it even worse.
More generally, I'm disappointed with the whole interview. Hirsi Ali is all over the place - none of it seems thought through - though the interviewer gave her ample opportunity to explain her position.
Apart from the recommendation that we close Muslim schools, I couldn't see much there that was concrete. All the stuff about how terrible it is that our enemies (and the extremists concerned are, indeed, our enemies) express their hatred of us by burning our symbols left me thinking, "So what?" Yes, people who hate you will find ways of expressing it. And?
A final thought: this is embarrassing for more moderate people who see themselves as in an intellectual and social struggle against theocratic elements in the modern world.
Speaking for myself, every day I see religious conservatives taking unenlightened political stances on issue after issue - whether it be gay rights, abortion, stem cell research, human enhancement technologies, AIDS policy, or any of a host of others - and I've concluded that it's not good enough just to fight these issues one at a time. The fundamental belief systems of our opponents are the problem. They merit searching, sceptical critique. Accordingly, I cheer for the contributions of Richard Dawkins, AC Grayling, and so on, to public debate. Collectively, these form a natural and valuable response to what we've been seeing from religious conservatives over the past decade.
But that doesn't mean I must cheer for the more warmongering rhetoric of Christopher Hitchens or Ayaan Hirsi Ali, much as they are extraordinarily charismatic individuals whose voices are of great value when they do no more than proclaim the beauty of secularism. When they go further, when they want to declare war - literal war, involving force and violence - against a particular religion, they are going too far. They are going to extremes, and I think we have no choice but to take a stand.
This is not something we've signed up for.
Monday, October 22, 2007
Church and state - back to the Enlightenment
The Enlightenment idea of a separation of church and state is currently under attack from several directions. Theocrats, communitarians, and anti-foundationalist radical intellectuals all claim that the idea lacks foundations, and for different reasons they all seek to sweep it away as a plank in the structure of the modern liberal state. Some of these people, of course, are highly illiberal in their worldviews. I'll get back to that in my final comments.
J. Judd Owen's book Religion and the Demise of Liberal Rationalism: The Foundational Crisis of Church and State includes a powerful response to anti-foundationalist critiques of the vaunted church/state separation, placing it in its orginal seventeenth and eighteenth century context. Whether the idea needs to be abandoned, modified, or strengthened, in current social and political circumstances, it will help us if we can clarify what it was originally all about.
Owen's account chimes well with my understanding of the Enlightenment and my own liberal values, so I'm simply going to synthesise and summarise it here for future reference ... before offering a few paras of comments in response.
He observes that the principal political ambition of the liberal Enlightenment was to create a reasonable political order by ending the worst consequences of the fanatical, clashing religious orthodoxies: consequences such as persecution and bloodshed. For John Locke, writing in support of religious toleration, it was a fact that no universal agreement could be forthcoming on the ultimate question of salvation of the soul. From this, he attempted to bracket off intractable religious disputes from practical politics.
For Locke, temporal authority trumped spiritual authority, and the limit of toleration could be determined by the need to conserve the political order. He found the basis for political common ground in a distinction between the goods of this world and those of the next. The goods of this world, such as the security of earthly possessions, are the sole business of the state, while the salvation of souls is the sole business of the church (in its various sects). Failure to make such a distinction, and impose a religious orthodoxy, leads to volatile political conflicts here on earth.
This raises the question as to why the might of the state should not be directed to both ends, temporal and spiritual. Locke's answer considered a difference in the ways these ends could be secured - one would not trust one's soul to whatever magistrate was in power, so long as the limits of understanding rendered theological disputes intractable. By contrast, the state had means that were eminently capable of dealing with such problems as criminal violence, theft, and fraud, or the incursions of external enemies.
However, what about the spectre of religious zealots who would not be content to restrict the state to such secular ends as peace and security, and would simply deny that these were the highest political ends? Locke's response was that it was not religion as such that caused political disturbances, but oppression and persecution - if the threat of these could be removed, the various sects would become peaceable. On this account, if people's primary needs - such things as safety and security - could be met, then human beings would be religious in varying degrees but not with revolutionary zeal.
The aim of the Enlightenment thinkers was to transform religion so as to remove its tendencies to violent zealotry. The state could do so not by initiating yet one more religious sect to be placed above the others, but by attempting to turn political attention away from theological quarrels and sectarianism, depoliticising the sects.
While Enlightenment liberalism sought to appear neutral on matters of religion - by not siding with a particular theological position - it did so in the service of a political end that was not value neutral.
Within the Enlightenment framework, the response of the liberal state to religious disruption is to deny all sects and churches the status of orthodoxy - which removes the ground for either persecutions or for the political hegemony of any sect in particular. The liberal state proceeds, strategically, to be neutral on religious questions. In a sense, religion is seen as too important to be left to whatever ruler or electoral majority prevails at a particular time.
As Judd emphasises, this is really a strategy, or a policy, rather than a theory. That is, there is no theoretical stance above and beyond whatever account of human nature is built into an analysis such as Locke's, plus the need to protect the solid, politically necessary value of civil peace, plus the practical effectiveness of the chosen course of action.
Such thinkers as Thomas Jefferson, who argued for a wall of separation, did not believe or intend that this strategy would have a neutral effect on the theological views of citizens. It was intended to soften the differences between contending sects, produce some blandness, and foster a degree of private indifference to religious orthodoxy. However, it also supported the right of individuals to seek out truth themselves, in discussion with the contending parties.
Now, some comments of my own. This general strategy has, indeed, served Western nations rather well since the eighteenth century, even though it has not been instituted everywhere as a formal separation of church and state, and even though it may not have been followed with total rigour in any jurisdiction. As carried out in practice, the Enlightenment approach may not be entirely satisfactory to everybody, or to anybody, but to the extent that it has grown from a practical strategy to a political principle (albeit one with no theoretically deep foundations) it seems worth defending. Most people can find a basis to give it at least some support from within their respective worldviews ... although, alas, there is no proof that every worldview can provide such reasons.
Even if we can't insist that people totally abandon their religious commitments in the political realm, we can at least ask them for a high degree of political tolerance for ideas that do not mesh well with their individual religious beliefs.
At the same time, ideas of church/state separation and religious tolerance do not provide a substitute, from anyone's viewpoint, for debate about the truth of particular religious and similar ideas. They certainly do not require that private actors must discuss the religious views of others with any special respect. Tolerance does not go that far.
Because the Enlightenment strategy is ultimately "just" a strategy, it is open to modification. We might even abandon it, if new circumstances so dictate. However, I suggest that we do not do so except for the most compelling reasons. The advice of Locke and Jefferson, and other Enlightenment figures, has worked too well, and the alternatives are too untried. While it may, technically, be a mistake to claim, as I sometimes do, that the relevant Enlightenment ideas are fundamental - we can tell a story about how they are historically justified - they are nonetheless enormously valuable and important.
I often read or hear secular thinkers who suggest various actions that the religious would surely experience as persecution, and I try to emphasis that religious tolerance includes secular people tolerating religious practices that we may not like, and to insist that separation of church and state goes both ways. I.e., the churches should not attempt to impose their contentious views using the coercive power of the state, but nor should state power be used to prevent people practising their religions.
As Locke knew, there are grey areas here: the state may have good secular reasons to take actions that will have a negative effect on some religious groups, even if its leadership is not motivated to carry out persecution for its own sake. As the role of the state has expanded beyond internal and external security for its citizens, the scope for clashes of public secular values and private religious ones has also increased. But there is room for sensitivity whenever a new issue arises. Sometimes, issues are best addressed by means other than the exercise of state power even if it appears legitimate.
Not to put to fine a point on it, my real concern is how all this stands up within the current world order, one very different from the Enlightenment era, though with some of the same problems as bedevilled pre-Enlightenment Europe. Today, liberal societies face several varieties of emboldened politicised theology, whether from American fundamentalist Christians, from the warriors of radical Islam, or from a conservative Vatican leadership with strong ambitions to influence the policies of Western governments. There can be few more important questions than the question of what strategies will best address this challenge and carry us through a difficult new century.
J. Judd Owen's book Religion and the Demise of Liberal Rationalism: The Foundational Crisis of Church and State includes a powerful response to anti-foundationalist critiques of the vaunted church/state separation, placing it in its orginal seventeenth and eighteenth century context. Whether the idea needs to be abandoned, modified, or strengthened, in current social and political circumstances, it will help us if we can clarify what it was originally all about.
Owen's account chimes well with my understanding of the Enlightenment and my own liberal values, so I'm simply going to synthesise and summarise it here for future reference ... before offering a few paras of comments in response.
He observes that the principal political ambition of the liberal Enlightenment was to create a reasonable political order by ending the worst consequences of the fanatical, clashing religious orthodoxies: consequences such as persecution and bloodshed. For John Locke, writing in support of religious toleration, it was a fact that no universal agreement could be forthcoming on the ultimate question of salvation of the soul. From this, he attempted to bracket off intractable religious disputes from practical politics.
For Locke, temporal authority trumped spiritual authority, and the limit of toleration could be determined by the need to conserve the political order. He found the basis for political common ground in a distinction between the goods of this world and those of the next. The goods of this world, such as the security of earthly possessions, are the sole business of the state, while the salvation of souls is the sole business of the church (in its various sects). Failure to make such a distinction, and impose a religious orthodoxy, leads to volatile political conflicts here on earth.
This raises the question as to why the might of the state should not be directed to both ends, temporal and spiritual. Locke's answer considered a difference in the ways these ends could be secured - one would not trust one's soul to whatever magistrate was in power, so long as the limits of understanding rendered theological disputes intractable. By contrast, the state had means that were eminently capable of dealing with such problems as criminal violence, theft, and fraud, or the incursions of external enemies.
However, what about the spectre of religious zealots who would not be content to restrict the state to such secular ends as peace and security, and would simply deny that these were the highest political ends? Locke's response was that it was not religion as such that caused political disturbances, but oppression and persecution - if the threat of these could be removed, the various sects would become peaceable. On this account, if people's primary needs - such things as safety and security - could be met, then human beings would be religious in varying degrees but not with revolutionary zeal.
The aim of the Enlightenment thinkers was to transform religion so as to remove its tendencies to violent zealotry. The state could do so not by initiating yet one more religious sect to be placed above the others, but by attempting to turn political attention away from theological quarrels and sectarianism, depoliticising the sects.
While Enlightenment liberalism sought to appear neutral on matters of religion - by not siding with a particular theological position - it did so in the service of a political end that was not value neutral.
Within the Enlightenment framework, the response of the liberal state to religious disruption is to deny all sects and churches the status of orthodoxy - which removes the ground for either persecutions or for the political hegemony of any sect in particular. The liberal state proceeds, strategically, to be neutral on religious questions. In a sense, religion is seen as too important to be left to whatever ruler or electoral majority prevails at a particular time.
As Judd emphasises, this is really a strategy, or a policy, rather than a theory. That is, there is no theoretical stance above and beyond whatever account of human nature is built into an analysis such as Locke's, plus the need to protect the solid, politically necessary value of civil peace, plus the practical effectiveness of the chosen course of action.
Such thinkers as Thomas Jefferson, who argued for a wall of separation, did not believe or intend that this strategy would have a neutral effect on the theological views of citizens. It was intended to soften the differences between contending sects, produce some blandness, and foster a degree of private indifference to religious orthodoxy. However, it also supported the right of individuals to seek out truth themselves, in discussion with the contending parties.
Now, some comments of my own. This general strategy has, indeed, served Western nations rather well since the eighteenth century, even though it has not been instituted everywhere as a formal separation of church and state, and even though it may not have been followed with total rigour in any jurisdiction. As carried out in practice, the Enlightenment approach may not be entirely satisfactory to everybody, or to anybody, but to the extent that it has grown from a practical strategy to a political principle (albeit one with no theoretically deep foundations) it seems worth defending. Most people can find a basis to give it at least some support from within their respective worldviews ... although, alas, there is no proof that every worldview can provide such reasons.
Even if we can't insist that people totally abandon their religious commitments in the political realm, we can at least ask them for a high degree of political tolerance for ideas that do not mesh well with their individual religious beliefs.
At the same time, ideas of church/state separation and religious tolerance do not provide a substitute, from anyone's viewpoint, for debate about the truth of particular religious and similar ideas. They certainly do not require that private actors must discuss the religious views of others with any special respect. Tolerance does not go that far.
Because the Enlightenment strategy is ultimately "just" a strategy, it is open to modification. We might even abandon it, if new circumstances so dictate. However, I suggest that we do not do so except for the most compelling reasons. The advice of Locke and Jefferson, and other Enlightenment figures, has worked too well, and the alternatives are too untried. While it may, technically, be a mistake to claim, as I sometimes do, that the relevant Enlightenment ideas are fundamental - we can tell a story about how they are historically justified - they are nonetheless enormously valuable and important.
I often read or hear secular thinkers who suggest various actions that the religious would surely experience as persecution, and I try to emphasis that religious tolerance includes secular people tolerating religious practices that we may not like, and to insist that separation of church and state goes both ways. I.e., the churches should not attempt to impose their contentious views using the coercive power of the state, but nor should state power be used to prevent people practising their religions.
As Locke knew, there are grey areas here: the state may have good secular reasons to take actions that will have a negative effect on some religious groups, even if its leadership is not motivated to carry out persecution for its own sake. As the role of the state has expanded beyond internal and external security for its citizens, the scope for clashes of public secular values and private religious ones has also increased. But there is room for sensitivity whenever a new issue arises. Sometimes, issues are best addressed by means other than the exercise of state power even if it appears legitimate.
Not to put to fine a point on it, my real concern is how all this stands up within the current world order, one very different from the Enlightenment era, though with some of the same problems as bedevilled pre-Enlightenment Europe. Today, liberal societies face several varieties of emboldened politicised theology, whether from American fundamentalist Christians, from the warriors of radical Islam, or from a conservative Vatican leadership with strong ambitions to influence the policies of Western governments. There can be few more important questions than the question of what strategies will best address this challenge and carry us through a difficult new century.
Sunday, October 21, 2007
Freethinkers unite!
PZ Myers gets it right in a recent speech posted on his blog, Pharyngula. I especially appreciated these words:
We're a motley mob of deists, agnostics, secular humanists, pantheists, atheists, and who knows what else, and organizing seems to be against our nature. We have to resist that; we have to be willing to work together while recognizing the diversity of perspectives under the umbrella of freethought, and treat that variety as a strength rather than a weakness.
In my not-so-humble opinion, this is exactly the right message (though I should make clear that I'd include some of the nicer, politically reasonable, theists and cultural religionists in the "who knows what else" category).
On the one hand, anyone who is for individual liberty, tolerance, reason, and science, and against dogma, authoritarianism, and the various moralities of misery that we find in the world is likely to be fine with me. I'm putting in the words "likely to be" because some people who'd see themselves as falling under that description can nonetheless have moral and political views with which I want no association. For example, I don't think that I'm going to be able to work well with the most hardcore Randian libertarians, though some individuals with libertarian leanings, such as Ron Bailey, may be valuable allies in the political struggle against neo-Luddites.
On the other hand, any alliances I have with any of these people - whether over specific aspects of my own agenda or over the broader struggle for a genuinely liberal and compassionate society - shouldn't make me keep silence about disagreements.
All that said, we live in a world where many kinds of deep conservatism seek to control political power, to the detriment of our freedom and of human advancement. Worse from my viewpoint, elements of the Left have been dragged into an alliance with traditional conservatives over such issues as genetic technologies. Those of us who strive to form a party of reason need to establish the broadest alliances that we meaningfully can.
Polished media performer - not
Last night, from midnight to 2 am, I did a radio gig with a small group of others on the 3RRR Party Show, hosted by Headly Gritter and his zany producer, DD. Headly's other guests in the studio were an archeologist from La Trobe and an astrophysicist from Swinburne (plus various people on the phone from time to time). It was not my finest hour - well two hours - though maybe not my worst, either.
I've done quite a lot of radio interviews by telephone, but never anything remotely like this gig, and I must admit I was too nervous to relax into the conversation until we were deep into the two hours. It really is quite different being placed in a room where you don't feel at home, with a bunch of people you've just met, headphones on, a huge microphone sticking in your face, and an expectation that you be witty and cogent for an audience that you can't see. There are particular skills involved. For me, it was scarier than having to perform in front of a meeting hall or a lecture theatre or even in a courtroom.
On the other hand, you soon get used to it.
By the end, the setting had already taken on a kind of familiarity, I was feeling less terrified of saying something stupid, and was actually thinking that I'd enjoy doing something like this again, having had a taste of it. I wonder whether they'll invite me back.
I've done quite a lot of radio interviews by telephone, but never anything remotely like this gig, and I must admit I was too nervous to relax into the conversation until we were deep into the two hours. It really is quite different being placed in a room where you don't feel at home, with a bunch of people you've just met, headphones on, a huge microphone sticking in your face, and an expectation that you be witty and cogent for an audience that you can't see. There are particular skills involved. For me, it was scarier than having to perform in front of a meeting hall or a lecture theatre or even in a courtroom.
On the other hand, you soon get used to it.
By the end, the setting had already taken on a kind of familiarity, I was feeling less terrified of saying something stupid, and was actually thinking that I'd enjoy doing something like this again, having had a taste of it. I wonder whether they'll invite me back.
Friday, October 19, 2007
Semester's end
I actually found myself feeling a little sad yesterday, as I drove home from the Monash campus at Clayton. I'd just conducted my last couple of classes for this year - two tutorials in the first-year philosophy subject that I was teaching in second semester, in which students were allowed to take two out of three options. I've been teaching classes of students who'd opted for the (arguably slightly incongruous) combination of "Metaphysics: Time, Self, and Freedom" and "Philosophy of Sex".
I enjoyed this teaching semester and felt that I'd managed to build a bit of rapport with my classes over the three months, and I'll now actually miss teaching, at least a bit, over the summer break (though I do desperately need to get some writing done; in particular, I'm now anxious to complete and submit my thesis, which should have been finished months ago but ran into some problems that I'm still trying to sort out).
Over the past few years, I've interacted with perhaps a few hundred young people, mainly in their late teens, and it's been a positive experience. The Philosophy of Sex part of the course has been especially interesting - we've managed to discuss everything from Plato's Symposium through modern debates about pornography and gay marriage, to conceptual analysis of such ideas as perversion and seduction ... usually with seriousness and decorum, despite the inevitable light-hearted moments. More generally, from what I've experienced while teaching at Monash since 2004, my generational cohort of baby boomers and Gen Xers will be leaving the world in pretty safe hands down the track. Gen Y seems to have a nice mixture of idealism and scepticism.
The immediate point, though, is to wish good luck to my first-year students in their exam next week, and likewise to the couple of fourth-year Honours students who are currently writing long essays under my supervision. Go get 'em!
I enjoyed this teaching semester and felt that I'd managed to build a bit of rapport with my classes over the three months, and I'll now actually miss teaching, at least a bit, over the summer break (though I do desperately need to get some writing done; in particular, I'm now anxious to complete and submit my thesis, which should have been finished months ago but ran into some problems that I'm still trying to sort out).
Over the past few years, I've interacted with perhaps a few hundred young people, mainly in their late teens, and it's been a positive experience. The Philosophy of Sex part of the course has been especially interesting - we've managed to discuss everything from Plato's Symposium through modern debates about pornography and gay marriage, to conceptual analysis of such ideas as perversion and seduction ... usually with seriousness and decorum, despite the inevitable light-hearted moments. More generally, from what I've experienced while teaching at Monash since 2004, my generational cohort of baby boomers and Gen Xers will be leaving the world in pretty safe hands down the track. Gen Y seems to have a nice mixture of idealism and scepticism.
The immediate point, though, is to wish good luck to my first-year students in their exam next week, and likewise to the couple of fourth-year Honours students who are currently writing long essays under my supervision. Go get 'em!
Thursday, October 18, 2007
Islam and liberal society
While we're on the subject of Islam and its blanket demonisation by some Western thinkers let's briefly consider People Like Us: How Arrogance is Dividing Islam and the West, by Waleed Aly. Aly is another Monash person, and one who has established a good local reputation as a spokesperson for Muslim thought.
He doesn't like being called a "moderate" partly, if I understand him, because it might imply that he is less religious, or has less faith, than other Muslims. I.e., it might suggest he is "only moderately Muslim". Since I consider piety and faith (not to mention humility, sexual modesty, and various other things like that) to be more vices than virtues, I'd consider calling him a "moderate" to be paying him a compliment, if that was its meaning. In fact, the word may imply no more than that someone is tolerant of other viewpoints and unwilling to use force. In any event, perhaps Aly would be prepared to accept being considered an educated, refined, liberal Muslim - or something similar. I'll call him a "liberal Muslim" until such a time as I hear that he dislikes that expression, too.
I'm going to give Aly's book a plug. It's really worth looking at what a highly articulate liberal Muslim has to say about the disastrous geopolitical relationships that exist today, involving Islam. While I have the sense that Aly is reluctant to acknowledge just how much of this Islam has brought upon itself, or to detail how oppressive Islam has been in the past, I clearly have my own biases. What I'm willing to concede to him - and I hope I'm right in doing so - is that classical Islam was no more oppressive to non-Muslims than was Christianity to non-Christians - even in recent centuries. It was more tolerant than medieval Christianity.
Indeed, I'm willing to accept that classical Islam was no worse than Christianity today, as experienced in many parts of the world. Step outside of Australia, New Zealand, Canada, and Western Europe, and the vicious dog of organised Christian religion still has plenty of bite; it hasn't been tamed everywhere.
Moreover - though Aly does not argue this in any clear way - there may be seeds within classical Muslim thought for the acceptance of liberal political arrangements. I really hope that this is true.
Aly does argue, explicitly and quite convincingly, that what contemporary Islam needs is not a Reformation but a Renaissance. We'd all be better off, he suggests, if more Muslims could rediscover the more enlightened elements in their own historical tradition. Unfortunately, to the extent that Islam has already been capital-R Reformed it has often been in a less tolerant and sophisticated direction.
Unfortunately, People Like Us does not have an index! Accordingly, I can't see whether it even mentions Hobbes, Locke, Jefferson, and Mill (or, say, Montesquieu). It does not discuss these figures, and none of their works are listed in the "Notes on sources" at the back. This is unfortunate, because I'd like to see someone like Aly engage effectively with the tradition of Enlightenment liberalism, with its emphasis on religious tolerance and individual liberty (especially liberty from the imposition, by way of the coercive power of the state, of specifically religious morality).
I'm going to come back to this issue in a later post, because right now it is critical that Islam find some genuinely liberal intellectual leaders who can provide reasons to endorse Enlightenment liberal values from within Islam's own traditions. Without this, I fear that we really are headed for the kind of civilisational collision that is so often written and spoken of (by people like Samuel Huntington, and now with the clear blessing - as it were - of Christopher Hitchens). That would be a disaster. Instead, we need to engage intellectually with Islam and try to find a modus vivendi.
On the other hand, there's no way that I (for one) will be giving up the central political ideas of Locke and Mill. There are some things that are non-negotiable and worth fighting for.
He doesn't like being called a "moderate" partly, if I understand him, because it might imply that he is less religious, or has less faith, than other Muslims. I.e., it might suggest he is "only moderately Muslim". Since I consider piety and faith (not to mention humility, sexual modesty, and various other things like that) to be more vices than virtues, I'd consider calling him a "moderate" to be paying him a compliment, if that was its meaning. In fact, the word may imply no more than that someone is tolerant of other viewpoints and unwilling to use force. In any event, perhaps Aly would be prepared to accept being considered an educated, refined, liberal Muslim - or something similar. I'll call him a "liberal Muslim" until such a time as I hear that he dislikes that expression, too.
I'm going to give Aly's book a plug. It's really worth looking at what a highly articulate liberal Muslim has to say about the disastrous geopolitical relationships that exist today, involving Islam. While I have the sense that Aly is reluctant to acknowledge just how much of this Islam has brought upon itself, or to detail how oppressive Islam has been in the past, I clearly have my own biases. What I'm willing to concede to him - and I hope I'm right in doing so - is that classical Islam was no more oppressive to non-Muslims than was Christianity to non-Christians - even in recent centuries. It was more tolerant than medieval Christianity.
Indeed, I'm willing to accept that classical Islam was no worse than Christianity today, as experienced in many parts of the world. Step outside of Australia, New Zealand, Canada, and Western Europe, and the vicious dog of organised Christian religion still has plenty of bite; it hasn't been tamed everywhere.
Moreover - though Aly does not argue this in any clear way - there may be seeds within classical Muslim thought for the acceptance of liberal political arrangements. I really hope that this is true.
Aly does argue, explicitly and quite convincingly, that what contemporary Islam needs is not a Reformation but a Renaissance. We'd all be better off, he suggests, if more Muslims could rediscover the more enlightened elements in their own historical tradition. Unfortunately, to the extent that Islam has already been capital-R Reformed it has often been in a less tolerant and sophisticated direction.
Unfortunately, People Like Us does not have an index! Accordingly, I can't see whether it even mentions Hobbes, Locke, Jefferson, and Mill (or, say, Montesquieu). It does not discuss these figures, and none of their works are listed in the "Notes on sources" at the back. This is unfortunate, because I'd like to see someone like Aly engage effectively with the tradition of Enlightenment liberalism, with its emphasis on religious tolerance and individual liberty (especially liberty from the imposition, by way of the coercive power of the state, of specifically religious morality).
I'm going to come back to this issue in a later post, because right now it is critical that Islam find some genuinely liberal intellectual leaders who can provide reasons to endorse Enlightenment liberal values from within Islam's own traditions. Without this, I fear that we really are headed for the kind of civilisational collision that is so often written and spoken of (by people like Samuel Huntington, and now with the clear blessing - as it were - of Christopher Hitchens). That would be a disaster. Instead, we need to engage intellectually with Islam and try to find a modus vivendi.
On the other hand, there's no way that I (for one) will be giving up the central political ideas of Locke and Mill. There are some things that are non-negotiable and worth fighting for.
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