Does
Religion Cause Violence?
Any strong faith can produce
extreme responses, but life without faith is meaningless.
By James Hitchcock
Religious believers are
accustomed to being accused as perpetrators of intolerance and violence, and
there is enough truth to such charges to take them to heart. At the same time,
it should be recognized that what is called religious strife is usually only
partly that. The “religious wars” of the 16th and 17th centuries were at least
as much about politics—with, for example, Catholic France supporting German
Protestants in order to weaken the Catholic German emperor. Today it would be
extremely simplistic to think that religion is all that fuels the strife in
Northern Ireland or the Middle East.
However, religion does
possess a peculiar potentiality for “extremism,” because it has to do with
extreme things. We might manage to compromise a boundary dispute, for example,
but how can we compromise the will of God?
Critics cluck their
tongues and note the contradiction whereby religion, which is supposed to be
based on love, has the potential to turn into strife and hatred. The critics do
not note the close parallel to the family, where love can so easily turn into
hate.
But the dangers of strife
and fanaticism come from the very nature of religion itself, which deals with
ultimate things. In a sense people ought to be more ready to fight over
religious dogma than over disputed territory, because religious dogma has to do
with the highest and most important truths. (It requires some kind of divine
revelation to teach us that we should not kill one another over religious
dogma.)
The terrorism which
manifested itself on September 11 has of course started a whole new round of
alarmed warnings about the dangers of religious fanaticism, with some
secularists professing to see no significant difference between Osama bin Laden
on the one hand and the Rev. Jerry Falwell and the pro-life movement on the
other. Thus, we are warned, the extirpation of all forms of religious intensity
is what we must do to achieve social peace. In this secularist world, merely
saying that one disapproves of homosexuality, for example, is equated with
bombing the World Trade Center.
The Secularist dogma
We can all agree on the need to end the kind of religion which does issue in
violence and hatred. But as the secularists point out, all real religion has
that potential, in the same way that deep love between a man and a woman has the
potential of leading to murderous jealousy. Thus many secularists in effect now
call for an end to religion completely, something they have been predicting for
a long time but which so far has not happened.
Why is there religion at
all, of any kind? Ultimately the only satisfactory answer is that it enlightens
people about the meaning of life, of how they should live their lives. Religion
is what gives meaning to human existence. Therefore, it follows, to abandon
religion would mean abandoning all hope of meaning —to which the secularist nods
and says, “Precisely!” The secularist position, which has a long history, is
that the religious search for meaning is an illusion but that, even when
successful, it is a bad thing, because man should not be encouraged to think
about ultimate realities.
American Pragmatism is
perhaps the clearest example of this tendency. It argues that we can choose
moral positions, and orient ourselves in life, not by asking what is true or
false but simply on the basis of what seems to work. We might claim, for
example, that all men have worth and dignity but, if someone asks why this is
so, we are not required to answer. It just is.
Although they seldom admit
it, these secularists really are calling upon the human race to amputate itself
spiritually, to suppress, quite consciously, the religious hungers which have
been part of human existence since the beginning of time. They call on us
deliberately to wall ourselves up within the empirical limits of our world and
resolutely to ignore everything which does not fit. Whatever else might be said
about such a view of existence, it is immeasurably drabber and shallower than
what men have thought was real for these thousands of years.
James Hitchcock, a frequent contributor, is
a professor of history at St. Louis University and syndicated columnist.