Documente Academic
Documente Profesional
Documente Cultură
by Kenneth MacKendrick
At the close of 1843, Karl Marx wrote something that has surely become
one of the significant paradoxes constitutive of the interests at stake in the
study of religion: namely, that "the criticism of religion is the premise of all
criticism" (Marx 1978: 53). The phrase remains contentious for good
reason. Is the study of religion simply a scientific endeavour, which seeks
to illuminate some obscure phenomena in an explanatory and analytic
sense, or does the study of religion actually produce a surplus or an
excess which intervenes in the very object of inquiry?
Even with these brief questions, the dice have been loaded and the stakes
have been raised. Only one object? Should we be talking about the study
of religions and not simply the study of religion? Is it the place of a scholar
of religion to be a critic of religion? Might we also ask whether religion is an
object at all? And why obscure? There is no shortage of disagreement or
debate about this. So much so that the study of religion within the
academy has yet to achieve a secure position within university curriculum
(Juschka 1997, Lease et al 1995).
One of the most difficult and controversial tasks for any religionist is the
attempt to provide a coherent definition of religion. If we at least know what
we are looking for, even vaguely, then we can begin to outline, if only
negatively, what, at least, religion is not. There are countless definitions
that permeate 'popular' and 'intellectual' thought: ranging from "a cultural
system" (Geertz) to "infantile regression" (Freud). William Arnal has
outlined several definitions, or ways of approaching religion: broadly,
substantivist definitions, which rely on 'key ingredients' and culturalist
definitions, where the contents of religion are examined according to their
function within a given system. Neither are completely satisfactory. Arnal
goes on to claim, with a high degree of justification, that "religion does not
exist" (Arnal 1999), indicating, along with Talal Asad, that the category itself
is the product of specific contingent political and economic forces which
have engendered a contentious predisposition from the outset -- a claim
well worth thinking about, and one that captures the spirit of
deconstruction, attempting at once to both criticize and preserve an
"impossible" category.
Typically, religion is a category used to describe something unique or
specific about a given cultural tradition, and we have several relatively
prepackaged categories through which to do this: Hinduism, Buddhism,
Judging from the diverse nature of the debates outined above, the
question of "the critique of religion" remains, and there is no agreement in
sight. However, one thing is certain: studying religion is political.
Theoretical inquiry itself has often been the source of both public and 'ivory
tower' outcries, ranging from the separation of theological departments and
religious studies departments, to public dissent about the kind of analyses
that particular scholars pursue. Even if a religion can be studied
descriptively and analytically (and I, for one, have my doubts), the
institutional space of the study of religion is highly charged. What we do in
the study of religion is implicated in the political sphere. Despite our best
attempts, we are not simply dealing with abstract concepts. As Hegel once
cryptically noted, "spirit is a bone."
Certainly, technological change, global capitalism, the "new economy" are
driving forces behind the rapid changes in 'religious' life, prompting new
mythologies, diverse rituals and launching adaptive political movements. It
seems quite strange that very little research has been done on the
relationship between religion and the political economy, so much so that
the two issues are usually completely unconnected. Stephen Handelman
quotes Elliot Abrams, chair of the U.S. Commission on International
Religious Freedom, as saying "The sad truth is that religion, as we begin
this new millennium, still starts more conflicts that it resolves" (Handelman
2000). This impression, which is a popular one no doubt, has lead to a the
"The Millennium World Peace Summit of Religious and Spiritual Leaders,"
billed as the largest ecumenical religious gathering in history hosted by the
United Nations, where "spiritual authorities" are given an opportunity to sit
down together to find "peace and love." One can be struck by the strange
naturalized and naturalizing associations here. Why should Christians and
Buddhists be lumped together? What do these supposed "spiritual
authorities" have in common such that they, in particular, should find
themselves burdened with the task of establishing peace? To be certain,
the "spiritual authorities" involved are constituted by the very traditions that
scholars of religion, at least in part, deem religious.
One of the great challenges that the study of religion faces, amidst debates
about the "politics of identity" and "multiculturalism," is precisely the
politicization of our inquiries. It has become commonplace, in some circles,
to assume that "cultural traditions" are the traditions of "others," with the
corollary (politically) relativistic attitude, "to each their own." As if,
somehow, religion or religiousity is essentially or naturally a matter of
individual 'faith' or 'spirituality.' Somewhere along the line, the critique of
religion, which was pivotal for the founding of our discipline, seems to have
collapsed into a distinctly liberal and, at the same time, privatized model.
Zizek, Slavoj 2000 The Fragile Absolute; or, Why is the Christian Legacy Worth
Fighting For? London: Verso.