The Problem with the Religious Violence Question

This is the fifth entry in my guest postings on the topic stated here, the question being, “Does less religious passion equal a more peaceful world?” This question was posed by Ariane Sherine, Bitish comedy writer and atheist. She is behind an ad campaign to “get the word out” about atheism. I am posting answers, written by guests, in the order I received them, unedited except for some HTML tagging. Please feel free to comment at length either here or on your own blog, linking back here if you please. Thanks!

This post is by J. Daniel Sawyer, Science Fiction/Fantasy author.

Get the Antithesis Series and Sculpting God for free, and read more of his work at http://www.jdsawyer.net

Before I start, I must apologize for the population of big words in the following post. I’ve simplified wherever I can, but when you’re talking philosophy…well, there’s only so much you can do. I’ve linked technical terms to wikipedia where appropriate.

Would the world be a safer place without religion? This kind of conversation too easily devolves into bouts of name calling and body counts, as we’ve seen already which doesn’t profit anyone (although, if anyone really wants them, I have a comparative body count for world history of secular vs. religious wars and democides). So, if I may, I’d like to hijack the discussion and head down an unusual path, while responding to some of Lint Hatcher’s points in the previous post.

There are two problems in the blog series so far (and the post that inspired it) that drive me crazy because, as far as I can see, they focus on entirely the wrong questions.

To start with, in Lint’s post as with most other places this topic is discussed, religious folks (and some secular folks) assume that “Atheism” is a monolithic, quantifiable social phenomenon (even the venerated Alastair McGrath commits this intellectually dishonest reductio ad absurdum in his book The Twilight of Atheism). Of course, it isn’t any such thing.

Atheism is an opinion on the question of God’s existence (a negative one), and as such is a feature of a number of worldviews and philosophies, some religious and some irreligious. Likewise, theism of some flavor is a feature of a number of worldviews and philosophies,
some religious and some militantly irreligious. Religion, on the other hand, is a definable sociological phenomenon which, in its advanced forms, is characterized by structured social institutions. The finer points of the definition of what constitutes a “religion” may be argued
over, but in broad strokes, it’s pretty easy to spot when you see it. (Reducing the field of options to “theism” and “atheism” is also an oversimplification, but since that’s the state of the conversation…).

Secondly, when talking of violence the conversation often turns to body counts. “Who Kills More? Religion or Atheism?” Formulating the question this way tidily dodges the more damning critique of religion’s violence by the irreligious critic. We’re not, on the whole, complaining about
simple belief in God. In the simplest form, the critique states that a mindest that accepts as valid things such as partisan thinking, acceptance and/or idolization of authority without accountability, doctrinaire epistemology, non-consequentialist moral theory, and non-falsifiable claims about the physical and/or spiritual cosmos is one that is, ipso facto, vulnerable to totalitarian manipulation. This is hardly a controversial contention; it’s been this way since Epicurus and Lucretius, long before the “name that genocidal maniac” game started among Christian apologists. The problem is that while modern religious thinkers (such as C.S. Lewis, Alvin Plantinga, or W.L. Craig) accept that all of the items on this list are generally bad things, they then go on to make use of special pleading to smuggle their own ideologies into the realm of rationality. They don’t have much of a choice: their entire worldview relies upon the uncritical or semi-critical acceptance of ecclesiastical authority.

So let’s not overlook the more insidious forms of evil and violence wrecked by religions around the world upon the outgroup. In Lint’s essay, he holds up Augustine and Aquinas as examples of admirable rational thinkers in pursuit of truth, and suggests that certain atheists would have a higher opinion of how Christianity values truth and goodness if they would but read these sainted theologians. Having read them both, I find it hard to justify this recommendation. Both men were effective communicators, but very little of what they said was either good or true in the way we understand both terms post-Enlightenment.

For example: St. Augustine and St. Aquinas both posited highly misogynistic and antisexual theologies that helped create and maintain the system of celibate male-only priesthoods that has resulted in several hundred years of protected pederasty in the name of God, as well
as fifteen hundred years of the systematic legal and theological subjugation and devaluation of women. The pederastic system remains in place in the Catholic church (and in other denominations) to this day, despite popular outrage, and the subjugation of women is still official
church policy in the Catholic Church and in many Protestant and Orthodox sects. It’s worth pointing out that both Aquinas and Augustine practiced what they preached – Augustine, for example, abandoned his common-law wife on the grounds that sex corrupted men’s souls and that women were the vector of sin, while Aquinas wrote extensively about the inferiority of women and was himself a celibate monk. Both supported the killing and/or torture of unbelievers, heretics, and members of other religions (Augustine implicitly, Aquinas explicitly here and in other parts of Suma Theolgica). Augustine explicitly supported slavery in The City of God, while Aquinas took it as an assumed part of the natural order, again in the Summa.

So will reducing religious passion make the world a more peaceful place? It’s not really a difficult question. The most peaceful places on earth (in terms of tyranny, crime, and of war) are always and everywhere characterized by secularization. Many people in these places continue to be religious in a sort of warm and fuzzy way, but they are lukewarm believers in every meaningful sense when compared to the doctrinal and historic dictates of their faiths. Cosmopolitan trading cultures characterized by curiosity, disdain for authority, and scientific
inquiry are (and have been for hundreds of years now) less exploitative of their neighbors, less violent internally, and less likely to engage in democide than their religious counterparts of similar eras and locales.

Does this mean that atheism is the key to world peace? No.

The problem of religion is not the question of God’s existence, it’s the issue of authority. Religious thinking happens as often in politics as it does in church (a distinction that we in the West can now make – much of the world still has no such luxury), as can be seen in the religious dictatorship under the Czars in Russia and perpetuated in structure under the Soviets even while the brand-name and doctrines changed. It can be seen in the Nazis, in the Spanish fascists, in Calvin’s Geneva, in the Khmer Rouge, in the Great Leap Forward, and in the Japanese Empire. All of these states perpetuated themselves either with the active aid of the local most-powerful religious establishment, or by setting the head of state up as a god or as God’s chosen, or by setting the party up as a messiah.

The alternative religion advanced by 21st century Christians (including Lint) is an attempt to re-define religious mysticism as religion itself, but of course this doesn’t fly. Mysticism is certainly the core of spiritual experience, but it’s not the defining criterion for what makes
a religion. Indeed, the way Lint’s characterizes this experience as the encounter with a “Person” – i.e. God – in a search for truth is uniquely bounded by a Buddhist/Christian hybrid cosmogeny. It smacks of Tillich and Watts – ironically, it is a theology that the very ancient
theologians which he lauds would happily have watched him burn for. Christianity has always strictly controlled its mystics for the very reason that mysticism places individual experience in authority over ecclesiastical doctrine.

Of course, mysticism is also reflexively anti-rational, which is another interesting wrinkle of self-contradiction in Lint’s plea for a rational – but not exclusively rational – search for truth. If the past four hundred years of rationalist inquiry has demonstrated anything, it’s that rationalism reveals testable truths that result in tangible, measurable improvements in human flourishing. The 5600 years of recorded history previous to the mainstreaming of rationalism have far less to
show for themselves than do the 400 since. While the ancients – particularly the innovative early civilizations of Asia Minor, North Africa, Britain, and East Asia – accomplished much, the flourishing of rational inquiry was always brief and often followed by the resurgence
of mysticism and religion as the civilizations declined. For this reason, I humbly submit that the notion that non-rational inquiry leads to any meaningful truth beyond the private and existential is terribly misguided. The Postmodern Christian thesis that Lint advances is historically myopic, self-contradictory, and ultimately self-defeating.

Religious thinking brings out the worst in humanity, regardless of whose pet theology is in charge. That’s the inexorable lesson of history. It’s time we learned to accept it.

  • Scott

    The problem I have with your answer to the topic I suppose boils down to this statement – “Religious thinking happens as often in politics as it does in church”. While I suppose I agree with that as far as it goes, the question was about religion not religious thinking (a term that you could make mean whatever you want it to mean I suppose). It really sounds to me like you’re saying “Authoritarianism happens as often in politics as it does in church.” I don’t equate authoritarianism with “religious thinking”.

    There are power structures in all major religions that I am aware of. As human beings, you can’t get three of us together on a regular basis without two of us trying to form a committee/hierarchy. Religions by their very natures are organized to varying degrees. Are there churches that are authoritarian? Sure. I belive that Christianity is more collectivist. That butts heads with modern thought which is more individualist. That may be “religio-centric”, but I am speaking here of the message of Christ and the teachings of the early church against my understanding of other major world religions. And it is not to say that there aren’t other religions/political structures that aren’t colectivist.

    So, whether I agree with your conclusion or not (we’ll find out next week) I can’t say that I like/agree with your defintion of religion/religious thought and I don’t think it jives with what Sherine was talking about. She seems to have been focused more on the belief in God aspect of religion.

    You say “Mysticism is certainly the core of spiritual experience, but it’s not the defining criterion for what makes
    a religion.” and maybe I cna agree with that to a point, though Christ taught more about being one with the Father and caring for those around you than he did about how to make a new religion. So mysticism seemed to be the core of his belief. You have told us what religion is and what it is not as though it were an absolute. You say “religion is a definable sociological phenomenon”. Well sociology has certainly said religion means x. That doesn’t make it so.

    Theism/religion isn’t any more monolithic than atheism. Of course there are people on both sides who would disagree with us. Religious/theistic belief is as much a spectrum as politics/sexuality. It sounds like you might agree with that to a point.

    And when I talk about my beliefs on this topic I will recognize (as I’m sure most do) that evil isn’t all about the body count.

    In closing, when you say “Cosmopolitan trading cultures characterized by curiosity, disdain for authority, and scientific inquiry are (and have been for hundreds of years now) less exploitative of their neighbors, less violent internally, and less likely to engage in democide than their religious counterparts of similar eras and locales.” I am troubled by the tone. It seems a bit like saying “Lovely nice people are always lovelier and nicer than those narrow minded fools that live next door”. You’re, I don’t know, stacking the deck in your favor? There have been plenty of religious people/groups who are curious, “disdain authority”, and have inquiring minds. I would wager that these people are also lesst likely to be violent and exploitative. Then you give yourself an out by saying that those people are likely lukewarm and fuzzy. I don’t think that’s very cosmopolitan of you.

  • http://strangecultureblog.com RC of strangeculture

    Scott…I feel like these are really big and important questions you are asking. YOu certainly should keep asking them and discussing this.

  • http://jdsawyer.net/ J. Daniel Sawyer

    Although I’m talking about authoritarianism, I’m also talking about the phenomenon underlying authoritarianism, which allows authoritarianism to flourish: that thing I’m calling religious thinking, but if you prefer we can call it doctrinaire thinking.
    The thing that all religions have in common – both sacred and secular – is an approach to epistemology that champions doctrine, tradition, and authority above questioning, testing, and inquiry. That’s not to say that all religions are against these later things, only that the priorities are such that, when forced to chose between them, tradition and doctrine wins. This is no less true of Christianity or Islam than it is of Communism, Maoism, or Fascism. The engagement with the ideas and traditions of political religions excites the same kind of religious fervor in its devotees as does ecstatic ritual among Charismatic Christians. A seminal work on this subject (which depressingly few people have read) is “The God That Failed” written in the 60s by a group of former communists about how Communism worked as religion, and why in their view it was its doctrinal thinking that led to its monstrousness.
    For this reason, I think that your dichotomization of collectivism and authoritarianism doesn’t hold up under scrutiny. Collectivism is, by nature, authoritarian. The collective is bound by an ideology that defines it, and those which do not adhere are not allowed among the group in a meaningful way. The socialization of authority does not make that authority less dictatorial – for collectivist religion to survive it must effectively defend its doctrine and work for group purity. Communism, remember, was a deliberate attempt to make a secular version of Christianity work on a large scale.
    On other matters -
    You object that I say that religion is a definable sociological phenomena, by saying “Sociology has said religion means x. That doesn’t make it so.” But this is a vacuous objection. If you are not familiar with the sociology of religion, then you’re not in a position to blithely toss off an entire discipline germane to the discussion simply because you don’t like it. On the other hand, if you are familiar with the sociology of religion and you object to the conclusions of the field, you should address those. I am familiar with the field and am making conservative arguments based upon the most widely agreed upon consensus opinions that I’m aware of – they are opinions that I consider to be well-founded based on my study of the arguments and the datum upon which they were based.
    I completely agree with you that Theism isn’t any more monolithic than Atheism. I do think that religion is more monolithic than either, but it’s hardly a small category and there is a broad spectrum within it. That’s why I’ve confined my arguments to the basic elements that all religions – east and west, traditional and new, supernatural and political and social – share.
    I also agree that evil isn’t all about the body count — and I find that aspect of this discussion on your blog very refreshing.
    My statement of cosmopolitanism is both a fact of history (would you like me to cite sources) and it was intended to draw a causal arrow: i.e. I don’t mean “nice people are cosmopolitan,” I mean that “cosmopolitan societies are always better behaved than are their deeply religious contemporaries.” There’s a reason for this fact of history.
    Religion has at its doctrinal core a sense of ultimate self-righteousness. “We have THE truth.” While some religions turn inward to protect the truth, and others reach outward to evangelize, insularity is the most common cultural effect of religion – and it’s not hard to see why: “If we have God’s truth about life/death/eternity, then we must keep it pure and not corrupt it with our own, merely human, redactions.”
    On the other hand, cosmopolitanism is incompatible with religious passion of the sort we see among the most devout of all religions. Indeed, religions have historically fought against cosmopolitanism and promoted insularity as a virtue for that very reason. When two people trade with one another, a sort of honorary friendship and trust is set up. If the trading relationship continues, actual friendship often ensues. As loads of psych. and socio. research attests (and as anyone who’s lived in such a place can tell you), it’s very difficult to maintain religious fervor and strict adherence to doctrines when you sincerely love an outsider. In such situations, ecumenicism, secularism, and interfaith cooperation become the order of the day, and they always do so at the expense of fervent devotion to the doctrines that make one’s own religion unique. Now, it rarely means people aposticize, but there is a very direct inverse relationship between cosmopolitanism and religious passion.
    On the subject of what religious passion is – well, let me be brief and merely point out that in the late 1st through mid 3rd centuries, and sporadically again through the middle ages, Christians willingly went to the death to defend their doctrines, even against other Christians. They joined armies, they formed monastic sects and swore off pleasure, they actively sought martyrdom they fasted, they prostrated themselves before wagons, they did all the crazy things that Muslim and Hindu fundamentalists do. That is what it looks like to believe in something with all your being. The cult of martyrdom and self-sacrifice is something else all religions have in common – and that goes hand in hand with the most fervent religious passion. You don’t see cosmopolitans doing that, except and unless they have accepted a religious doctrine that says that cosmopolitanism is morally lax and a tool of the devil (as did the hijackers of 9/11, all of whom were, at one time, semi-cosmopolitan).
    So, in closing, I return to my original point: Idolization of authority – whether the authority of doctrine or the authority of a personality or the authority of a group – is THE thing about religion that makes it dangerous in the world. In all religions, including your own, piety is a combination of ritual purity and purity of heart.

  • Scott

    I think I probably got a little defensive the first time I read this. Certainly I understand that there is a tendency in religious groups that gives tradition and authority more weight. As you said, political groups also trend in the same direction. That’s why I objected to painting religion with that brush. It’s more of a group think situation regardless of whether it’s a religious or political group.
    When I differentiated between Collectivism and Authoritarianism it was not a distinction I made but rather, I was going by the definition that wikipedia gave and there I think the distinction is locus of control. Certainly there is authority in both systems. In theory in Collectivism the control belongs to the group. I don’t think authority (regardless of where it’s located) is a bad thing unless it is used in a dictatorial fashion/
    When I objected to the definition of religion used by sociology I don’t think I was clear. Sociology can certainly define religion however it likes. My point was that it is not the only definition that matters. Maybe that’s vacuous, maybe not.
    Regarding religious passion, you give some excellent examples. Apostles going to their deaths, joining armies to fight for their religious beliefs, etc. are all certainly about passion of belief. That doesn’t begin and end with religion though. People have been that passionate about government and in all likelihood a host of other things. That’s not religious passion, that’s just passion.
    I personally am passionate about certain things that my religion dictates. I am passionate about social justice, caring for the sick, feeding the hungry. Those come from my religious convictions (and are the genesis of my political convictions). Idolization is a bad thing, regardless of whether it’s religions, political groups, or individuals do it.
    As far as my religion goes, the faith I practice says that ritual purity is only of minor importance and that purity of the heart is something that can never be achieved in this life time.

  • http://www.jdsawyer.net J. Daniel Sawyer

    Hey Scott-
    Sorry I ruffled you. I meant to be provocative, but not offensive – please accept my sincere apologies for inadvertently crossing the line between those things.
    I realize that, as an individualist and someone in favor of voluntary collectivism, you disdain religion being painted with the groupthink brush. For myself, try as I might, I can’t come up with a religion, no matter how freethinking, that does not depend upon groupthink for its very existence – aside perhaps from some forms of Buddhism and Deism. However, both highly individualized Buddhism and Deism are usually considered primarily philosophical orientations rather than religious ones (going into why I think this consideration is correct will be a long trek, so I won’t bore you with it here unless you really want me to).
    I certainly think it’s possible to believe in a God, or even to be a member of a religion while still being a free-thinking individual. But since religions are defined and differentiated by their doctrines, the assent to a particular tradition and the promulgation of its doctrines is participation in groupthink on the doctrinal level. This doesn’t necessarily make those doctrines wrong, but I find it hard to avoid the conclusion that religion (all religion) exists by virtue of groupthink.
    Your point on Collectivism and Authoritarianism is well taken – I overreached in conflating them. Please allow me to scale back and make the more modest point (claim?) that, in both cases, the issue of authority is one that more easily leads to great evils than to great goods, and that in my view collectivism is worse. History seems fairly clear (to me at least) in its lesson that a collective will tend to seek its perpetuation even at terribly high expense, and that there are rarely disincentives that can effectively check a collective (it’s also worth noting that the inevitable endpoint of collectives, historically, is authoritarian dictatorship).
    As far as why I think that collectives are marginally worse – it’s because most authoritarian systems are adversarial and ultimately subject to revolution, where collective systems (and the authoritarian systems they evolve into) have greater staying power, because the interests of the members of the collective are artificially aligned with the whole and allegiance to the whole more easily supersedes the rights and needs of the individual. In collective systems, it truly is that the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. I honestly can’t imagine a more insidious form of tyranny.
    On the issue of defining religion, you said “Sociology can certainly define religion however it likes. My point was that it is not the only definition that matters. Maybe that’s vacuous, maybe not.” My objection to this is that it destroys the notion of a ‘definition’ and opens the door to special pleading as a legitimate mode of discourse, which is troublesome for a number of reasons.
    Your first paragraph about passion is certainly correct – that people do things they’re passionate about in all areas of life. The point of my argument is that religious passion is both uniquely immune to criticism and is more prone to driving people to do crazy things than is, say, passion about art or music or civil service, etc. I contend it is this way because it accepts as its baseline reality a set of dogmas that define it – and these dogmas may not be questioned without religious passion being defused.
    You say you are passionate about certain things your religion values, and the things you list are laudable things. And some kinds of religion certainly do urge them, much to their credit. But these are not things which your religion gives a unique impetus towards among religions, nor does religion uniquely urge these things when compared to secular philosophy, social solidarity, or even basic biological morality. I do not doubt that you draw your inspiration for these goods from your religion – I just am not convinced that your character would be less laudable if you drew your inspiration from the writings of Ghandi or Schopenhauer.
    On the last note, you say that “As far as my religion goes, the faith I practice says that ritual purity is only of minor importance and that purity of the heart is something that can never be achieved in this life time.” There is a long tradition of esoteric religion into which your brand of Christianity fits comfortably. Despite my basic antipathy towards religion, I think there is much that is wise and laudable in the esoteric traditions, and this discussion – though intense and prickly at points – is a distinct pleasure.
    -Dan

  • Scott

    Apology accepted. Some days my feathers are too easily ruffled.

    I suppose that since most (if not all) religions strive to be tightly knit groups, some degree of groupthink is inherent. I don’t know about it depending on it for its existence. FWIW I agree with you that Deism and Buddhism are more philosophical than religious, so no need to defend that statement in my case.

    I agree with you regarding your points on Collectivism/Authoritarianism. I can’t think of many cases where a government that started as collectivist hasn’t overstepped. Would socialist governments like France and other European nations be eaxamples of this? My political science knowledge is somewhat lacking.

    I don’t think my comment on the definition of religion destroys the notion of a definition. I think you just need to be clear that you’re using one form sociology and not one from theology or a more broad general definition. I think when most people think of religion they aren’t thinking of it in the terms you used. They wouldn’t, at least I wouldn’t, include governments in that definition.

    I also don’t agree that religious passion is immune to criticism. Religions, particularly Christianity, have undergone changes over time and there are certainly people within and outside of religions that criticize it. In what way is it immune? What basis are you using to say that religious passion makes people more likely to do crazy things? I’m not saying that you’re wrong, I’m just asking.

    My values certainly aren’t unique to Christianity and I wasn’t trying to make that claim. Many have and I know people that would try. They would say that if you’re not a Christian then you can’t be a “moral” person. I think they’re missing the point of Christianity. It’s not about trying to be more “moral” than the guy to your left or right. Jesus clearly said as much on more than one occasion. It’s about loving the guy to your left and right regardless of how moral/immoral they may be. I was just saying that religious passion can lead to a good end.

    I’ve been enjoying our exchange too and I will be taking another look at the email you sent me and responding to it this week.

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