Monday, December 21, 2009

'When it comes to religion, what is it we are dealing with at COP 15?' (By Simon Appolloni)


A rabbi, priest, a Buddhist monk and an environmentalist travel to Copenhagen… I know it sounds like the start of a bad joke, but it’s also the basis of an ongoing and critical reflection on the role of religion and the environment.

The engagement of religions at COP 15 was rather considerable. One could be pardoned for assuming we are witnessing an explosion of religion in public sphere, as Casanova opined was the case in the 80s. Indeed, the list of participants in what arguably could be labeled one of the most important summits of our time – with 119 heads of state and government, including nine vice presidents (certainly the world's largest summit ever) – is long and worth listing at least in part:
  • There is much representation from religious bodies such as the World Council of Churches, the Parliament for World Religions, and CIDSE (Coopération Internationale pour le Développement Socio-Economique, an alliance of 15 Catholic international development agencies from Europe and North America) and Caritas Internationalis (whom together form the world's largest development alliance).
  • The list includes notable religious leaders such as Rev. Richard Cizik, Vice President for Governmental Affairs of the National Association of Evangelicals, Jim Ball, head of the Evangelical Environmental Network, Rabbi Michael Kagan, co-founder of the Jewish Climate Initiative (JCI), Dr. Rowan Williams, Archbishop of Canterbury, the Venerable Bhikkhu Bodhi, an American Buddhist monk and activist, Rev. Dr. Joan Brown Campbell one of the founders of the National Religious Partnership for the Environment, Sister Joan Chittister, Co-Chair of The Global Peace Initiative of Women, Sraddhalu Ranade, scientist, educator and one of the leading scholars on the teachings of the late Indian sage, Sri Aurobindo, and Sufi Rehman Muhaiyadeen, director of the Green Living Association in Pakistan.
  • Even those recognized as being ‘heavy hitters’, such as South African Archbishop and Nobel Peace Prize winner Desmond Tutu, the Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew and Pope Benedict XVI, (the last two not having attended themselves), weighed in giving speeches or sending missives to the world leaders in Copenhagen to ‘do the right thing’.
All this doesn’t seem even to scratch the surface of engagement, as blogs, letters and statements from religious leaders and activists from afar seem to have found their way into the Copenhagen discourse.

The intended role for these religious individuals and bodies could best be summed up by UN Secretary-General Ban Ki-moon who, at an earlier conference in the UK, encouraged the religious leaders to lobby governments to “set high targets for cutting greenhouse gas emissions,” adding, “You can – and do – inspire people to change.”

This inspiration perhaps reached its loudest clamour with the ringing of church bells 350 times – so to underline the need to limit carbon emissions to 350 parts per million – in Copenhagen and around the world on the first Sunday of the summit. As adeptly put by religion and environment professor, Stephen Scharper – who, incidentally, also travelled to Copenhagen – the gesture of inspiration can be considered, “a further example of how religious traditions are reinventing and reshaping older ritual forms to deal with our present ecological challenge.”

I think it’s safe to conclude from the above – secularization theories not withstanding – that religion, along with the legitimization it brings, remains (or at the very least is seeking to remain – as obviously their calls were not heeded by the state leaders) a powerful medium through which an environmental agenda is being put forth at a global level.

However, if we were to leave the analysis there, I feel, we would be overlooking the presence of something new in regards to religion in the public sphere. Without downplaying the attention the environment is (finally) getting from the more traditional religions, I wish to bring our attention to the actions and sentiments of a small group of climate change activists who, since November 6, have been on a hunger strike to change values at every level of society.

Anna Keenan, the most outspoken of this group called Climate Justice Fast! says, (taken from interviews found on the web), she felt no choice [but to fast] as other options did not seem to be working. Thus, she undertook “a higher and more moral level of activism…” Keenan notes, “We stand in absolute solidarity with the poorest and most vulnerable countries” adding – and here’s the clincher – “We're committed to the climate change movement with our lives and it's what we want to do with our lives, to work until climate change is solved…”

Keenan does not claim any religious affiliation, though she admits she was inspired by Gandhi and Martin Luther King in her decision. And having lost, as of day 40, thirty-five percent of her body mass, she could be well on the way to becoming a martyr. Paul Connor, another participant fasting with Climate Justice Fast! – but doing so in Canberra, Australia – sent a message to all the abstaining activists throughout the world. It reads like an epistle from Paul:

So our task is urgent, and monumental. We have to bring about this change as fast as we possibly can. We have to continue shining the light of our truth into every city, every street, and every home until it is heard. And when people are not ready, or when they do not want to listen, we must have faith in the power of this truth, and just keep going.

It will not be easy. No human struggle has ever been easy. Creating real change in human society is the hardest thing one can possibly attempt. History shows us this. Social movements demand real sacrifice from us.

But history also shows that when you [are] armed with the truth, and you care enough, and you are ready for those sacrifices, you can win.

And so, my friends, as we fast together on this day, unified by our love for this planet, its people and its animals, and by our deep and shared concern over its future, I want to say thank you for your effort, and express my love for, and solidarity with every one of you.

And I want to say that yes, it's an exciting time to be alive.

Long live the revolution. (see http://climatejusticefast.com/)

The question I think we need to ask is this: is this not religion active in the public sphere too? Keenan and her group, though small in numbers, seem to represent a larger body of activists, that group of civil society’ (100,000 strong) present at COP 15. In video interviews of activists on the street, some activists claimed their voyage to Copenhagen was a “pilgrimage”.

Although it would be difficult to deny that there is a resonance between Keenan et al’s environmentalism and religion (no matter how we define it), the verdict, at least for me, is still out as to whether this form of environmentalism can indeed be considered religion. Yet, environment scholar and author of Dark Green Religion, Bron Taylor – perhaps less circumspect on this issue than me – argues that this form of environmentalism can indeed be labeled as religion, only one that is distinct from mainstream, older religions.

So what is it we are dealing with here? I’m curious to find out. Dietrich Bonheoffer once spoke of the ‘non-religious’ understanding of God. Perhaps we are witnessing a non-religious understanding of religion. Whatever the case, ascribing the term religion to environmentalists certainly challenges us to look at our assumptions about religion and dig deeper with our analyses. Let’s see what unfolds at COP 16.

Sunday, December 13, 2009

Do personal narratives heal? (By: Julie Reich)

The expression on my mother’s face was one I rarely see: a withdrawn, discomfited and coy blank stare. The incapacity to conceal an uncomfortable repulsion only reveals itself when forced to face her Jewish heritage. As if facing a mirror imposes on her reflection, facing memories related to her culture and religion are painfully avoided. She calls it: “opening the floodgates”. Ironically, the attempt to evade her relationship with Judaism only reinforces an inescapable bond it; in my opinion, a familiar response to memories of experiences related to evil and suffering. In particular, her silence and suppression manifest as coping mechanisms, and emphasize the identity she wishes to reject. Ironically, in her case a memory usually triggers a narrative; emerging from the depths of the unconscious is a desire to tell. In this case, it was after I mentioned my film selection for independent study in a summer course: “Sophie’s Choice”. The floodgates had been opened.

My mother vividly recalled when this movie opened in theaters because she was pregnant with me. Apparently, when she agreed to see the movie she claims to have been unaware that Sophie’s choice was one that forced a mother to select which of her two kin would be immediately ‘exterminated’ in an Auschwitz concentration camp. My pregnant mother was not anticipating a reminder of the suffering her relatives endured during the Holocaust. As it turns out, she left the theater midway through the film and to this day she holds a grudge on the friend who ‘brought’ her to see this movie while she was pregnant.

My mother's desire to tell can be thought of as a manifestation of the need to cope with suppressed pain associated with her cultural and religious identity. Accordingly, the theme concerning the role of narrative as a means to cope with traumatic personal experience is apparent in films, documentaries and novels. For instance, the role of narrative is not only a dominant theme in the film Sophie’s Choice, but is also salient in the novel Night, by Elie Wiesel and can be identified in the documentary film The Corporation, directed by Mark Achbar and Bart Simpson.

In The Corporation, justification for lack of personal responsibility is evident in the narratives of those interviewed, such as with the ‘corporate spy’. In particular, this individual attempts to justify his responsibility to evil through narrative. Moreover, the use of narrative in Night, is used as a means to express a sentiment of guilt over remaining silent and passive during the Holocaust. Additionally, the nature of the novel is structured as a memoir, and exemplifies how narrative is an inherently human characteristic and serves as an adaptive means to heal. In my opinion, the role of narrative not only demonstrates an attempt to remedy residue of personal experiences with suffering and evil, but also emphasizes an inability to ever fully forget.

Therefore, I propose that this inability to forget is a new form suffering, a form of torture induced by memory, disassociated from events with which they were created and altered by the effects of time.

Memory is a construct that requires time, and can be understood from a multiplicity of interpretations. However from a process strictly confined to deduction, I propose that memories are mere representations of previous experiences, therefore the ability to ‘relive’ an experience is not possible. In my opinion, memories are new experiences of past events in the present moment. In particular, long-term memories are influenced by time and are thus subject to change. Consequently, time inherently alters and confounds the ability for memory to truly represent actual experience. As a result recall is a novel experience triggered by, and related to a previously encoded and stored experience. In other words, just as narratives related to suffering and evil may enable an element of healing they also represent a manifestation of a novel experience related to painful memories and therefore, they may also serve to punish.

Monday, December 7, 2009

Link Roundup for December 1-7, 2009

This is the first of the irregular (but usually every week to three weeks) link roundup for The Religion Beat. We feature links from around the blogosphere or occasionally news web sites relevant to the blog.

Missives From Marx discusses the necessary link between religion and sociality.

Elder of Ziyon notes the important role of symbolism in Switzerland's recent ban of minarets from mosques.

The Pew Forum on Religion and Public Life discusses a survey about perceived friendliness with religion in the major U.S. political parties.

Dunedin School on the Top 10 and single worst religiously themed movies of the decade. The Busybody provides his.

NPR reports on the recent court cases regarding the right of Native Americans to wear braids as an expression of their religion.

For those in the Greater Toronto Area, Dr. James K.A. Smith will be delivering a public lecture entitled "Rethinking the Secular and the Religious: Explorations in Postmodern Literature and Philosophy" at the University of Guelph. It will be in War Memorial Hall at 7:00 pm on January 21, 2010. View the flier here.

Sunday, December 6, 2009

Sinterklaas and Zwarte Pieten



During my stay in Amsterdam a few years ago, I saw many strange things. The red light districts, the coffee shops (not the ones in Canada), the Sex Museum, the Hash Museum and the Torture Museum were exceptionally outré. But the most bizarre experience I had was on the fifth of December when I attended the Sinterklaas (Santa Claus) parade for the first time.

It was a cold and gloomy morning in downtown Amsterdam. A friend asked me to join them to watch the Santa Claus parade and so I did. We headed to the Koninklijk Paleis (the Royal Palace) and waited on Dam Street for about 20 minutes. Santa finally appeared in his usual silky red cloak and sharp white beard. He was riding a glorious white horse and accompanied by Dutch adults who had blackened their faces and wore afro wigs and thick red lipstick. As the caravan was approaching, the kids were yelling with great enthusiasm: Kijk, zwarte Piet! (Look, Black Peter!). I quickly scanned the crowd looking for any black people and there were few with their children. I glanced at my African-American friend and saw confusion in her eyes.
I was struck not only by the fact that St. Nicholas’s helpers were white Dutch with blackened faces, but also by the Moorish style of their costumes. The scene was too complex that it instigated in me an old curiosity for semiotics. I went home and did some internet research to find most stories agree that Sinterklaas is about the triumph of good over evil. I also learnt that the black servant is of Moorish descent and symbolizes Islam’s submission to Christianity. St Nicholas lives in Spain and comes to Holland every 5th of December. I thought of the long constructed European image of rationality, maturity, morality, civilization, etc. and saw that St. Nicholas represents everything Black Peter does not. Now things are getting even more complicated.
My Dutch friends said Sinterklaas is merely a festive day in which children receive presents from Santa and enjoy a special moment of bonheur. Parents often tell their kids that Black Peter is black because he goes up and down the chimney delivering Santa’s gifts. But they also tell them if they are naughty, Zwarte Piet will put them in his large sack and take them back with him to Spain. Really, Spain! Medieval Spain where the sciences and arts thrived until the subjugation of Granada by Isabella and Ferdinand in the late 15th century!

Sinnterklaas is deeply rooted in the Dutch tradition to such an extent that it has become impossible to include another character other than Black Peter. During the first week of every December, the picture of a black face with big ruby lips occupies almost every corner of Amsterdam’s public space: in souvenir shops, on the packages of a variety of produce and as pastry, and especially on TV. A two-minute satire showed Black Peter as purchasable robot (slave) that cleans, cooks, brings the mail, polishes shoes, etc. Of course the show was meant to be critical of the tradition, but I wonder how the Surinamese would react to this type of ‘humor’—especially that Surinam was colonized by the Dutch for more than three centuries; a long time of abuse and exploitation.

In defense of Sinterklaas, some argue that it is an innocent tradition designed for kids to have fun, and thus is free from any ideological baggage that it might have had in the past. But is there such a thing as an innocent tradition? Is Sinterklaas not also about being Dutch; in this case being white and Christian? Sinterklaas combines both racial and religious aspects, and I think that is what makes it highly problematic. The debate of identity has already taken some exorbitant curves in the last few years.

The tradition of Sinterklaas is increasingly stirring up controversy both inside and outside the Low Lands. The Dutch are split up between those who champion Sinterklaas the way it has traditionally been celebrated, and those who call to reform it (like replacing Black Peters with rainbow-colored Peters). While more Surinamese immigrants are finding the tradition laden with racist symbolism, the government hasn’t been very responsive. I thought Moroccans too will be concerned about this issue, but not quite. Most of them think it is all about racism against the blacks. Very few know that the image of St. Nicolas as master and Black Peter as a Moore servant is part of a long established discourse of Christianity’s triumph over Islam.
What makes people cling to a tradition that has racist traces even after they know about it? In a broader European contemporary context, what makes over 50% of the Swiss vote to ban building more mosque minarets, while there are only four minarets in the entire country? Why is the Spanish parliament still split up over whether the government should apologize to the persecuted and expelled Muslims or not, (after they have already apologized to the Jews)? What makes a Spanish judge expel a lawyer from the court simply because she was wearing the hijab? What are the real motivations behind the White Christmas campaign in Northern Italy?
Now I am getting really confused!