I got nothing.

Harry Stout provides us with a disturbing problem: American culture promulgates the incorrect impression that, "for much of its colonial and national experience, America has lived at peace with its neighbors, locally and globally."[1] Even more haunting is Stout's claim that, "judging from the texts, scholars of American religion ignore almost all external geopolitical engagements once English immigrants are dropped off the boats in the brave New World."[2] From the course of this class, we know that this is simply not true. Additionally, Stout refutes this misconception outright rather quickly: "In all, I have charted 280 military interventions or nuclear standoffs outside of the United States on every corner of the globe, in addition to the already referenced 29 Indian wars on the continent, for a total that exceeds 300."[3] Here, Stout begins to cite Tuveson's "redeemer nation", and I am called back to McCullough's thesis on "messianic interventionism." Although many Americans have become disenchanted with American global interventionist policy, religious notions of America as an active instrument of divine justice are still relevant, and very prevalent, in the cultures that reinforce providential ideologies. Does a lack of devoted literature on the relationship of religion and war in American history allow for these ideologies to persist? Stout believes that the New Social History is largely to blame for the movement of American historians away from writing on religious-historical topics--is he right?


[1] Harry S. Stout, Religion, War, and the Meaning of America, 279.
[2] Ibid., 282.
[3] Ibid., 278.

Giveing God a hand!

“Put bluntly, the American consensus consists in America’s faith in the institution of war as a divine instrument and sacred mandate to be exercised around the world” (Stout 284)

“The whole address can be understood as only the most recent statement of a theme that lies very deep in the American tradition, namely the obligation, both collective and individual, to carry out God’s will on earth” (Bellah ,5)

This seems very cynical and smug, but both articles, especially Stout, would have us believe that America’s conflicts have only on exceptionally rare occasions met any standards of justification.  So much so that the American myth would not accept the realties Stout points out of continual warfare.  Rather, America as peaceful and only a defensive and reluctant participant in violence is the accepted mythology. 

“What’s good for general motors is good for America.”  This, probably apocryphal, quote is attributed to American businessman, Charles E. Wilson.  In light of the quotes above could American Civil religion be boiled down to “what’s good for America is good for the world?” or “what’s good for America is good for God?”

war for peace

Stout argued:
"Judging solely by the texts and monographic writings on the meaning of America, any reader would come away with the strong impression that, for much of its colonial and national experience America has lived at peace with its neighbors, locally and globally." (Stout, 279)
"Virtually all of the main themes in American religious histories suppose , at least implicitly, an America at peace, leaving them free to confront internal demons, saviors, and central characters...  Despite the wide diversity of publishers and authors, American religious texts have tended to engage common themes that almost exclusively bypass war an geopolitics." (278)
Is the dimension of  war and its religious undertones more available for scholars than for the masses of the American people? or are the ideals of peace and democracy more ingrained in the common citizen as Stout proposes?

Civil Religion, or "Christianity Light" ?

Robert Bellah’s Civil Religion in America and Skip Stout’s Religion, War, and the Meaning of America make an interesting juxtaposition. Stout asserts that:

The norm of American national life is war…. This is not something Americans—or American historians—are trained to think about. In American memory and mythology, the United States is, at heart, a nation of peace; it unleashes the quiver of war as a last resort and only when pushed. In like manner religion, especially what we now call evangelical Protestantism, has been a conspicuous presence in American wars from the seventeenth century to the present. American wars are sacred wars and American religion, with some notable exceptions, is martial at the very core of its being. The ties between war and religion are symbiotic and the two grew up inextricably intertwined. [1]. 

Stout (who does speak of civil religion near the end of the article), identifies evangelical Protestant Christianity as having a major influence on America at war. Furthermore, he sees this evangelical Christianity as being very warlike in its orientation generally.

Bellah, of course, sees a Civil Religion which is related to Christianity, but is not “in any specific case Christian.” According to Bellah, "There was an implicit but quite clear division of function between the civil religion and Christianity.” [2] Bellah spends several pages describing the connection between Civil Religion and War, and also the disconnect between Civil Religion and Christianity. 

While Bellah shows us his reasoning with regards to the existence of civil religion and its relationship to Christianity and war, Stout does not.  Stout does later expand his definition of Christianity to include Catholics and, puzzlingly, even Jews, which seems to move towards an idea of Civil Religion [3], but he never describes his ideas of the interrelationship between the two “faiths.”

Considering what we learned about Confederate Nationalism and Confederate Civil Religion during the course, what we saw of George W. Bush’s evangelical faith, but also considering the influx of non-Chrisitan immigrants into this country since the 1960’s, how should we view “American Religion” today with regards to the state?  Was Bellah correct?  Or is “civil religion” just “Christianity light,” drained of most of its theology to be more palatable to a diverse society, but still Christian?

 

[1] Stout, 275.
[2] Bellah, 8.
[3] Stout, 277. 

The History Channel

This semester, The History Channel has come up several times. We have jokingly called for its reform, re-labeling it "The War Channel." But after reading Stout, as an American institution, can The History Channel's content consist of anything but war?

I am troubled by the development of Civil Religion in America and its development around the nationalism and the inerrancy of American action. Civil Religion has become a religion of war and its rhetoric and liturgies are full of battle cries, reassurances and justifications. I recall the writing of Hauerwas in War and the American Difference:

"It is thought that to acknowledge a policy or a strategy was mistaken is to betray the sacrifices made by those who as a result of that policy died...Those who have killed need to have constant praise and assurance from peers and superiors that they did the right thing. The awarding of medals becomes particularly important, because medals gesture to soldiers that what they did was right and that the community for which they fought is grateful. Medals indicate that their community of sane and normal people, people who do not normally kill, welcome them back to "normality."

Can this cycle ever be broken? Can America become disillusioned from the idea that in order to honor those martyrs of Civil Religion we must continue to go to war? As Stout suggests, is an honest and proper exhaustive American history, staring war and religion dead in the eye, a good start?

Don't Expect a Witty Title During Finals

Bellah offers France as a counter-example of how civil religion can manifest in modern nation-states, arguing that the lack of institutionalized religion allowed America's breed of civil religion to "build up without any bitter struggle with the church" (13) 

Is our situation really that unique? Sure, we don't have the established religion and the militantly anti-clericalists or secularists that other societies have faced, but hasn't our free marketplace of ideas forced civil religion to compete with other problems, such as anti-governmental ideas, new religions, and independence movements to make up for that?  Is America the perfect pasture for the growth of civil religion as Bellah suggests, or is it just a seperate pasture with separate problems?

We're Half Awake In a Fake Empire

Stout concludes in his essay that "for religious history to correct social history's overcompensation it will have to re-engage the original preoccupations of historians with politics. It will also have to reengage the old preoccupations of "church historians" with theology and ideas, albeit not as the history of "truth" and "heresy" or "belief" and "correct practice" but as an aspect of the history of nationalism and millennialism." Religion has always been such a personal thing - personal in two ways: personal in that people like it to remain their own and they don't like to talk about it or personal in that people become very touchy if they think you believe something different from them. The generation we are in is a much more open-minded generation than previous generations. We can hold our opinions dear to us without trying to push those opinions on to others and we can also hear opinions different from what we believe without assuming those opinions are wrong. Perhaps it is because of this post-modern mindset that Stout's request can become a reality. Will our generation be able to take up religious history in regards to war in a non-offensive and non-biased way more effectively than previous generations? 

Does Civil Religion Need a Crisis?

Stout states that according to his calculations “The only twentieth-century decade with fewer than ten interventions was the “depression decade” of the 1930s, when there were only three minor events suggesting, ironically, that economic bad times are good for Americans at war; they couldn't afford the guns!” (Stout, 278)

Bellah suggests a third trial (after the Rev. War and Civil War) of America’s Civil Religion when he states, “Every president since Roosevelt has been groping toward a new pattern of action in the world, one that would be consonant with our power and our responsibilities.  For Truman and for the period dominated by John Foster Dulles that pattern was seen to be the great Manichaean confrontation of East and West, the confrontation of democracy and ‘the false philosophy of Communism’ that provided the structure of Truman’s inaugural address….” but the pattern shifted by the late 60’s when, “great problems came to be seen as caused not solely by the evil intent of any one group of men,” but rather “‘the common enemies of man: tyranny, poverty, disease and war itself.’” (Bellah 16-17).

Stout critiques Catherine L. Albanese stating that “one [problem in her analysis] is her tendency to bury civil religion prematurely, noting its ‘lessening hold’ in the 1990’s when she wrote the text  burying civil religion prematurely in the 1990’s.”  (Stout 285).  He also states that Albanese “fails to address the causation and the indispensable role that churches played in promoting the ‘religious nationalism’ of civil religion in time of war.” (285-286)

Given that some scholars, such as Albanese, seemed to think that civil religion was dying in the 1990’s (after the fall of the Soviet Union, flourishing tech stocks, etc) and that the sources suggest that churches seem to promote civil religion during times of war, one must ask the question does Civil Religion require a crisis (military, economic, social, etc) in order to exist?  Can churches during times of peace -- albeit there are relatively few time periods fall in this category according to Stout -- promote religious nationalism of civil religion or do they only do so when times are chaotic?   

Civil Religion and the "other"

I've been thinking about civil religion a lot lately for my paper for this class.  One thing that strikes me is the role of civil religion in constructing a national identity.  Alan mentioned in a previous post that civil religion usually involves some form of "exceptionalism"--which I think is entirely true.  I also wonder, then, if civil religion is usually formed with some "other" in mind.  National identities are often (perhaps always) crafted in relationship to some "other."  Any idea of Americans as a "chosen people," for example, implies the presence of other nations that were not chosen.  What role does civil religion play in this construction?  Bellah is optimistic about the potential for civil religion to unite various groups under the promise of a shared American creed.  But is civil religion necessarily exclusionary?  Bellah points out that the founding fathers referenced God but not Christ.  For him, this is a sign that American civil religion was not limited to Christianity.  But it seems hard to avoid the corollary--that these references invoked a Judeo-Christian God.  Did this mean that Americans who did not fall under this umbrella somehow belonged outside the boundaries of the nation?  Here, perhaps, Bellah's optimism about civil religion should be tempered.  Instead, we might want to ask: does our conception of civil religion keep pace with the changing face of the nation?  And, if it lags, what does this mean for our understanding of what it means to be an American citizen?

Should we call it Worldism or Worldianity?

Bellah structures his idea of American civil religion around three trials, the third of which he believes will be the "attainment of world order" that the world has been unable to see despite the efforts of the United Nations (Bellah, 18). This world order would in essence create a world civil religion.

Most nations of the world have semi-succesfully united to function in social, political, and economic peace. But what about in religious peace? What an intriguing idea. Is it possible that in the same way a country like America holds a civil religion, that all nations could find "an understanding of the [world] experience in the light of ultimate and universal reality" (Bellah, 18)?

Bellah argues that if such a world civil religion was developed that it would not stand in conflict with American civil religion. Is this simply because of America's privileged position in the world? Does this mean that America would have to give up making enemies and acting militarily? I am not sure I can concur on the hope for this idea, especially when "American religion, with some notable exceptions, is martial at the very core of its being" (Stout, 275).

Two sanguine interpretations of American civil religion

Bellah maintains that American civil religion can be a benevolent sort of national religious consensus, provided it attends to the cautionary words of its prophets. (Bellah, 17) Stout agrees that there is a consensus view in American civil religion, and that it is "faith in the institution of war as a divine instrument and sacred mandate to be exercised around the world." (Stout, 284) Bellah finds grounds for national optimism in the same place that Stout finds little but blood-stained ground (and much of that foreign). Which scholar makes his case more convincingly? Does Bellah demonstrate to your satisfaction that the prophets of civil religion and belief in transcendent judgment serve to keep its jingoistic tendencies in some sort of check? Does Stout prove that Americans are inspired to violence specifically by America's civil religion, rather than by violence inherent in human nature or (to offer a less nebulous option) by a broadly western European imperialist impulse?

It seems to me that Bellah and Stout shade very close to the same interpretive error that has bedeviled other authors in previous weeks: in endeavoring to explain American behavior on the basis of American civil religion, both authors treat both phenomena as peculiarly American. Perversely, this replicates one of American civil religion's conceits, American exceptionalism... which national conceitedness, I hasten to add, is hardly peculiar to Americans. Have Americans been particular people in particular times? Of course: we could hardly be otherwise. Have we been, collectively, peculiar? Not nearly so much as we have (collectively) told ourselves at times, either in flattery or in reproach.

It seems like Christianity is not the only one with a problem of interpretation of the Sacred text. The writings of Muhammad are also easily used to achieve political interest. According to Appleby, Qutb made a good job when interpreting the prohibition against fighting as well as freeing himself from the death of individuals because Islamist attacks should or would be directed only to institutions. anyway, it seems like religion (at least some elements of it) will always be there causing wars and not feeding the hungry  regardless of the good intentions claimed by the leaders.

What...too soon?

As I reflected upon my own experiences and memories from the past decade, I have to wonder if oven is still hot on this one. After all, the POTUS did have bi-partisan support on pretty much everything he wanted immediately after 9/11, he could have requested all white house chairs be changed to that of the bean bag variety and congress would have approved that increase in spending. It was such an emotional time. Having just moved to Nashville from NYC, I can tell you that even a decade removed from the incident (at least among that concentrated populous), the wound is still fresh. How soon is too soon before historians can begin the historical task?

Another question arises in that same vein, has ever in American history risen such a passionate response to such an ambiguous enemy? Who are these terrorists? And where are they? Afghanistan? Iraq? Pakistan? What is a muslim? Islamist and Islam sound too similar terms to be throwing around. Also, doesn't stating Islam as a "religion of peace" give you a free pass against any muslim response to the contrary, Islamist or otherwise (especially since no one in America were so far removed from the identity, religious or otherwise, of their enemy)?

Pre-Post-Post-Modern

R. Scott Appleby convincingly argues that fundamentalism can only be understood as a response to modernism; that is, that fundamentalism is anti-modern. And while that seemed to me, as I read it, a correct assertion, the very next author I encountered, Bruce Lawrence, posed a challenge – that of “[foregrounding] the disciplinary variables we face today” – that called into question the neat, clean delineation implied by the word “modern.” As a supposed modern, should I not be able to define the word? And if I cannot define modernism, how can I understand anti-modernism?

 I “foreground” the problem of historical periodization with respect to the cluster of recent events that can loosely be associated under the rubric “War on Terror,” precisely because they have not yet fallen into the domain of history proper. Hence they yield a certain charge, like a foul ball sailing into the stands at a baseball game, markedly different than the prior events studied – they’re still up in the air. Does this difference also entail a different approach? A different ethics of historical methodology?

 “’Modernity’…plays a peculiar dual role as a category of historical periodization: it designates the contemporaneity of an epoch to the time of its classification; yet it registers this contemporaneity in terms of a qualitatively new, self-transcending temporality which has the simultaneous effect of distancing the present from even that most recent past with which it is thus identified. It is this paradoxical doubling, or inherently dialectical quality, which makes modernity both so irresistible and so problematic a category.” – Peter Osborne, The Politics of Time: Modernity and Avant-Garde

 

Meet the new boss... same as the old boss

“Historians are not alone in reconstructing the past” (Applyby 1).  This was the first line I read in this week’s readings and it framed my interaction with all the subsequent articles and caused me to reflect on the past readings.

Kidd, in God of Liberty, interpreted the coalescence of deists, enlightenment thinkers and evangelicals as an inspirational non-partisan coalition of divergent positions for the greater good of the nation, all of whom felt virtue was of the utmost importance for the republic to succeed.  I feel Kidd was writing with the present day in mind while still making a solid historical contribution.

Is there a connection between the groups Kidd discusses and the fundamentalist Christians that pop up as representations in President Bush II and as clergy and average citizens in various manifestations thorough the readings?  What does the reconstruction of history tell us to think of modern day fundamentalists?  Are they a continuation of forces pressing America to avoid vice and keep God/providence on its side?

Is Kidd’s interpretation of the role of religion in the revolution a virtuous history (does it encourage individuals to behave in the best interest of the people) because it encourages non-partisanship?

Is America Really That Exceptional?

    Dick Johnson's article in Newsweek mentioned poll data that suggests that "80 percent of Americans say a belief in God shapes their views." This is a pretty broad statement. Looking at specific evidences, at least about Iraq, we get a different view.
     Forgive me for going outside of our readings, but a Pew Research survey from 2003 found that "Nearly six-in-ten (57%) of those who regularly attend religious services say their clergy has spoken about the prospect of war with Iraq. But just a fifth (21%) say their priest or minister has taken a position on the issue." with "Just one-in-ten Americans cite their religious beliefs as the strongest influence in their thinking about the war"
     This contrasts to 53% being influenced by friends and family, and 43% saying the same about political commentators.
     Is it fair to point to religious conviction or participation as such an influential aspect of American public opinion? It seems churches are not the forums where discussions of just war are happening, and opinion on war seems to more closely fall along party lines, sometimes contrary to a church's stance. 

I am Joe's Six-Pack

Bruce Lawrence and R. Scott Appleby, writing in September of 2002, present us with two different treatments of Islam. Appleby's article is more positive, inasmuch as it attempts to explain Islamic fundamentalism. Radical Islam, via figures such as Maududi, Hasan al-Banna, and Sayyid Qutb, attempts to de-secularize the Muslim world through "divinely guided political leadership" and strict adherence to shari'a.[*] According to Appleby, this ideology is much akin to Jewish and Christian fundamentalism: "Their different settings, beliefs, and goals notwithstanding, Jewish, Christian, and Islamic fundamentalists interpret the history of the modern period, especially the twentieth century, in remarkably similar ways."[1] Through themes of "humiliation, persecution, and exile of the true believers," Appleby clearly illustrates what he believes to be commonalities in "a tortured vision of the past" that exist within the fundamentalist circles of Abrahamic religions.[2]

Lawrence's article, in contrast, comes as a response to an inquiry from "your average work-hard, play-hard American." I fear, however, that Lawrence is much more explicit in his critique of writers such as Friedman, Lewis, and Fukuyama than he is in his explanation of "why they hate us so much."[4] Lawrence's efforts are much more centralized around debunking the myths fabricated by "so-called Middle East experts," who are notably ill-versed in Arabian and Middle-Eastern culture, than they are to an explanation of the tensions between America and the Arab world.[5] 

What sort of solutions are out there? Lawrence concludes that we need "to go beyond Manichean thinking, to drop moralizing from foreign policy rhetoric and to focus instead on the tough pragmatic choices that a post-Cold War and postcolonial world pose for the rich and the poor alike."[6] That sounds great, but is that possible? Have we witnessed any objective, amoral politics in our study of America's religions and wars?

[*] R. Scott Appleby, History in the Fundamentalist Imagination, 505.

[1] Ibid., 503.

[2] Ibid., 498.

[3] Bruce Lawrence, Conjuring with Islam, II, 485.

[4] Ibid.

[5] Ibid., 487.

[6] Ibid., 497.

The President's Speech...

Lawrence states, “Indeed, many so-called Middle East experts, including one well-known historian, have abetted the incendiary penchant of journalists, making certain that one stereotype predominates over all others in middle America’s reflection on Islam.  (Lawrence, 487).

Fineman states that, “Every president invokes God and asks his blessing. Every president promises, though not always in so many words, to lead according to moral principles rooted in Biblical tradition.” Fineman specifically points out President G.W. Bush by stating, “this president- this presidency- is the most resolutely ‘faith-based’ in modern times, an enterprise founded, supported and guided by trust in the temporal and spiritual power of God”  (Fineman Newsweek Article).

Johnson picks up this same theme when he states, “But with Bush, religious conservatives can for the first time fully claim one of their own in the White House” (Johnson, Newsweek Article).

In the president’s State of the Union address to Congress shortly after the attack on American soil, he states, “They know that victory for us means victory for religion. And they could not tolerate that.  The world is too small to provide adequate ‘living room’ for both Hitler and God… [their plan] by which the Holy Bible and the Cross of Mercy would be displaced by ‘Mein Kampf’ and the swastika and the naked sword.” (FDR Address, 291)  “We are inspired by a faith which goes back through all the years to the first Book of Genesis:  ‘God created man in His own image.’ We on our side are striving to be true to that divine heritage.  We are fighting, as our fathers have fought, to uphold the doctrine that all men are equal in the sight of God… Only total victory can reward the champions of tolerance and decency, and freedom, and faith” (FDR Address, 295).  

Fast forward to “the most resolutely ‘faith-based’ [president] in modern times, the most religious comments quoted in Bush’s State of the Union address were: “..ways to encourage the good work of charities and faith-based groups,” “Deep in the American character there is honor, and it is stronger than cynicism. And many have discovered again that even in tragedy -- especially in tragedy -- God is near,” and “Thank you all and may God bless.” (George W. Bush Address).

Notwithstanding the fact that George W. Bush obviously is an outspoken evangelical, he certainly did not use near as much religious rhetoric as FDR when comparing their first post-attack State of the Union. Roberta Coles even gives numerous examples of Pres. George W. Bush’s predecessors using a plethora of religious language in their speeches.  Even Jimmy Carter -- while in office -- was an evangelical Southern Baptist. Given the fact that our primary sources seem to highlight President W. Bush’s faith, what does that say about the changing culture in America and its views on Religion and War since 1942?   Would today’s media call FDR’s presidency “the most resolutely ‘faith-based’ in modern times” if he gave his speech today? What weight should historians place on news sources versus other primary sources like speeches, Congressional records, etc?

The Temptation of Adam

I have always been a little confused by what the War on Terror actually was/ is. Perhaps I do not understand terrorism, but I believe an oversimplified definition would be, violence used for political purposes. It seems like Bush really felt like he was waging a just war: "But he didn't do it [conclude the war was just] by combing through texts or presiding over a disputation. He decided that Saddam was evil, and everything flowed from that." He made his decision and then backed it up, which seems like backward reasoning. How is this different than what "terrorists" do? They say we are evil, we say they are evil. And both use violence to hurt the other one. So I'm being vulnerable here and saying, I don't understand how the 9/11 attacks were evil but the War on Terror was just, other than the later being retaliation.  

Theorizing Civil Religion and War

In her article on Manifest Destiny, Coles it seems is attempting to use an expanded and nuanced definition of manifest destiny in order to show how Civil Religion still plays an important role in American Foreign policy, albeit in a manner that changes through time and that is adapted to the needs of both the speaker and the nation.  Coles uses the religious titles of priest and prophet to describe rhetoric that on its face is more secular, but that can be traced back to the more explicit religious content of American Civil Religion.  In her discussion of the concept of mission within manifest destiny, Coles cites Tiryakian as demonstrating three varied types of mission, the third being “a civilization mission, to save the world and mold it in the image of America.”[1]  Furthermore, as part of the “Priestly” mode of civil religion, Coles states that the Priestly role “sanctifies the economic order, leg imitates the system and actions of the government, and sees the American Way of life as unique and desirable.”[2}

If Tiryakian, and Coles, are correct, then we should be able to apply this theory to what Lawrence describes in “Conjuring Islam II.”  For example, in describing the thought of Fukuyama (which Lawrence disdains), Lawrence states that “his well-known thesis [is] that capitalist democracy is the inevitable tide of the future, crossing economic, political and finally cultural boundaries in forging a global society. So strong is ‘the inner historical logic to political secularism,’ according to Fukuyama, that it will inevitable produce a more liberal strand of Islam.  In the meantime, however, there will be spoilers—the Islamo-fascists.”  Lawrence goes on to state that according to Fukuyama, the Islamo-fascicts hate America because it is “dedicated to religious tolerance and pluralism, rather than to serving religious truth.”[3]

Fukuyama sees America as providing a “civilizing” model to Arab nations, one that he might even say, to borrow the words of Coles, would “save the world and mold it in the image of America.”[4]

This Priestly (conservative, according to Coles) view of Civil Religion could also be applied to theorize about the role of “conservative” civil religion in the conflicts of World War I, the Spanish-American, and others.  However, Presidents such as Wilson and McKinley are generally considered “progressives,” not conservative, with McKinley being the President who ushered in “the Progressive era.”   What then does this theory mean for these Presidents, their politics, and the complicated role that religion and politics always play in American war making?

[1] Roberta L. Coles “Manifest Destiny Adapted for 1990s' War Discourse: Mission and Destiny Intertwined”, Sociology of Religion 63, no. 4 (Winter 2002): 407.

[2] Ibid.

[3] Bruce B. Lawrence, “Conjuring with Islam, Ii”, The Journal of America History 89, no. 2 (September 2002): 490.

[4] Coles, 407.

Prophets and Priests

In Coles’ discussion of civil religion, she distinguishes between Bush’s priestly style and Clinton’s more prophetic style.  However, the short note on George W. Bush after September 11 left me wondering.  Coles seems to attribute the differences between Clinton and Bush to personal differences.  However, are there some cases in which the situation, rather than personal style, dictates the mode of civil religion that the president must employ?  For example, indulging in a counterfactual, if Clinton had been president on 9/11, would he have had to adopt a more priestly style?  It’s difficult to imagine a president using a strong prophetic voice at such a moment.  And, if that’s the case, how can we understand the relationship between civil religion and American foreign policy?

Propriety of attributing the plausibility of U.S. foreign policy to manifest destiny

How plausible is Coles's claim that the ideology underlying American foreign policy is still best characterized as "manifest destiny"? (See especially Coles, 421-422) To some extent, Coles is able to make parts of the case persuasively. It is perhaps plausible to assimilate the acquisition of resources and military bases to manifest destiny. But projecting political power and opening new markets are activities comfortably treated under a heading at once more general and more suggestive: imperialism. A comparison with the British experience is illuminating: the British are not often accused of ideology akin to "manifest destiny," in part because the Anglo-Norman (and eventually English) consolidation of power took place over such a long period of time. And yet, manifest destiny or no manifest destiny, all the way down to the twentieth century (if not the present), the British sought to secure resources, military bases, political power, and new markets throughout a far-flung empire. I worry that Coles's analysis of manifest destiny, geared as strongly as it is to explaining the justification of American foreign policy in light of American experience, lapses into the same ideological trap that she imputes to American government: the conviction that America's behavior is special, and must be explained in terms of its special history. America's behavior is no doubt particularly American, but is not totally idiosyncratic; America's history is its own, but is not without foreign parallels. It seems to me that, before supposing that Americans are peculiarly prone to foreign intervention because of manifest destiny, it would be important to show that this sort of behavior is actually peculiar to Americans.

Defense is expensive.

In his 2002 state of the union address, George W. Bush declared, "the price of freedom and security is high, it is never too high. Whatever it costs to defend our country, we will pay." His statement is inspiring, however it is dangerously vague when defense of our country eases into defense against all terrorism through offensive means.
The danger in this is when Qutb as quoted by R. Scott Appleby in "History in the Fundamentalist Imagination" states "we must change the meaning of the word 'defense' and mean 'defense of man'."
Considering the American mindset, the nuances in such a position, and the words of Qutb, what do we do? Does America own up to its actions and claim defense of man? Or does it quit offensive actions against threatening enemies? How do we keep America in check to live out the identity that it claims? Does it need to?

Catholic War Resistance

I was surprised to learn several interesting details regarding the peace work and stance of the Catholic Worker movement during the Vietnam War.  While I was aware that voluntary poverty was a standard tenant of the Catholic Worker movement, I had supposed that the movement had appropriated this idea from the many religious orders of the Catholic Church.  The fact that Dorothy Day used voluntary poverty as a way to resist war taxes, and that she "elevated it to a precept of the movement" for that purpose was a brilliant move on her part, both as a way to create solidarity between her new form of monasticism and the old, and as a way to very visibly reject the war power of the United States. [1]

Further, while I was aware from Daniel Barrigan and Thich Nhat Hanh's book The Raft is Not the Shore that several Buddhist monks had self-immolated themselves in protest against the war both in Vietnam and in the United States, I was unaware that a member of the Catholic Worker movement had done the same.  Barrigan and Hanh set forth a sort of Catholic-Buddhist theology for the act of self-immolation in that text ten years after Roger LaPorte set himself on fire.[2] I would imagine that LaPorte's death effected Barrigan greatly.

While I am aware that as public sentiment turned against the war it created more and more pressure on U.S. politicians to end the war, the war lasted for almost ten years from the time that LBJ ramped up the war after the Gulf of Tonkin.  What I don't know is how much of an effect did the actual peace movement itself have on the eventual ending of hostilities between the United States and Vietnam. Is it possible to separate the effects of the war being unpopular from the active resistance of the war by groups such as the Catholic Worker?

[1] Anne Klejment, American Catholic Pacifism: the Influence of Dorothy Day and the Catholic Worker Movement (Westport, CT: Praeger, 1996), 163
[2] Thich Nhat Hanh and Daniel Berrigan, The Raft Is Not the Shore: Conversations Toward a Buddhist-Christian Awareness (New York: Orbis Books, 2001), 63-72.

Negotiation, not in bad faith, but between bad parties

Abraham Heschel laments, "Driven by our tendency to suspect social change, by our tendency to measure other peoples' values by our own standards, we have no communication with the people of Vietnam, nor have we sought to relate ourselves to their political understanding." (Heschel, "Moral Outrage...," 54) Robert McAfee Brown writes that one of the vital roles of the church in times of war is "maintaining lines of communication between nations in times of war." (Brown, "Appeal...," 62) And Brown makes concrete suggestions as to how the credibility of such communication may be established. (Brown, "Appeal...," 90-95)

This is all well and good, but suppose neither side likes anything the other could possibly say? Worse, suppose both sides are downright unpleasant? Amanda Porterfield does a nice job of summarizing the (broadly) personalist convictions that might have given some religious Americans confidence that it could all be worked out at the negotiating table. But American renunciation of brutality would not have been the end of brutality in Vietnam: although surely exaggerated in the American press, nevertheless a significant number of war crimes were perpetrated by Vietcong irregulars and North Vietnamese regulars that were, similar to American war crimes, "unauthorized" only in the official record. My point here is not to downplay the seriousness of American war crimes with the hollow, morally trivial rejoinder, "But everybody does it!" My point is that the diplomatic solution proposed by Brown and the general attitude adopted by Heschel presume that Americans constituted the overwhelming majority of violent, ruthless people in Vietnam. It's worth saying that had that actually been true, the war would likely have been a resounding American and South Vietnamese victory, even as it would have been a perhaps greater moral defeat for the United States.

black and white

How do we deal with the tendency to see everything in either black or white? from one extreme to the other? I really like Michael Novak's statement: "Worse than making one mistake is to correct it just when the time for the correction has passed. We must meet each new situation on its own terms, keeping the past in mind but not being predetermined by it." now, should we determine the past? How do historians avoid dogmatism and leaning towards extreme views supported by inflexible arguments? should we follow a balanced approach or should we determine the past by our current historical constructions?

Comrade Jesus.

The intense globalization of the American mind brought on by two world wars and the increasing "threat" of communism seems to have drastically affected the American religious psyche. This week's writings are dripping with evidence for this move from the individualistic, anxiety-laden faith of the late 19th century toward the more corporate-minded, Social Gospel movement of the early 20th century. Brown writes, "Religion is not a private affair between the individual and God, but a corporate affair between the individual, God, and the neighbor." As Brown continues, the "new" idea of religion's social responsibility echoes the sentiments of those who conceptualized the nation of the United States. He writes, "It is the duty of the individual, both as religious person and as citizen, to play a responsible role in the processes of democracy."

I wonder if this shift in priority is the result of the threat of communism, not to the national identity, but to the role of religion in society. Religion was not accomplishing the goal that the founding fathers intended within a democratic republic. As the working class grew restless and the church proved less revolutionary, the socialist ideals of Marx and communists like Kropotkin took hold of the world. As Marx wrote, "[Religion] is the opium of the people."

Dorothy Day, a communist to Catholic convert, perplexes me. The Catholic church did not seem to align with her stance on military involvement, not initially anyway. Even her stance on non-violence was not a Catholic position. Instead she seemed to bring her communist ideals to her Christian faith. Could this, perhaps, be the case for the evolution of the "liberal" christian agenda? Would it exist without the rise and popular intellectual embrace of communism?

Vietnam and Civil Religion

So far in this class, we have mostly talked about how Americans have used religion to justify their role in wars.  They have talked of having God on their side, appealed to Providence, and honored the fallen.  The reading this week was markedly different, however, showing instead how religion could be used to denounce a war.   Much of Crisis of Conscience seemed to be a response to an earlier black and white Cold War ideology that posited righteous Americans against godless Communists—the authors state that, in the eyes of God, there is no “us” versus “them.”  But the authors’ argument goes further, stating that the actions of the nation are subject to the judgment of God.  The Vietnam War, then, was not just a mistake, it was a sin that needed to be confessed and atoned for. 

Does this argument signal a challenge to American civil religion?  Or is it the introduction of a new, chastened, and less bellicose civil religion?

Ritual of American Solidarity

      Amanda Porterfield talks about the disconnect between the "prophetic" and the "priestly," stemmed in a "disjuncture between internalized ethical principles and external social structures." (92)  People were not identifying with the actions that their government were taking.  I wonder how much the lack of a formal declaration of war on the part of the U.S. government contributed to this disjuncture.  Did the lack of "public" participation in the ritualized action of a declaration of war affect the notion of a nation unified in war? Could it have contributed to the national acceptance of resistance?

Big Time in the Jungle

Jill Lepore's idea that wounds and words win wars has continued to stick with me through this class. I have talked about the importance of communication in a couple different posts, but I am again drawn to the importance of words, the interpretation of war, and the communications that lead to war. 

Poterfield says, "the breakdown of traditional religious belief had strong precedents and antecedents in American history." She then goes on to talk about writers and teachers (communicators) who broke the ground for the cultural critics of the '60s and '70s.  

Novak talks about how Vietnam was seen on the TV and how that made people of faith uneasy. He also talks about how the lack of communication (the lack of listening, actually) within differing American viewpoints makes peace very difficult. Perhaps these thoughts seem unrelated, but they all tie back to the importance of communication. We saw in A Common Sense that communication can be used to manipulate and communication can be used to start wars. But without communication peace can never be found. So how does good communication happen without manipulation? Think about watching real live war on TV, is that manipulation or just communication?

unJust the war, reJust peace

Last week we discussed World War II and its ability to represent a Just War and its influence on several accepted paradigms, such as appeasement always being folly, which shape the interpretation of conflict.

The Vietnam War also became an illustration for future conflicts.  It is an example of an immoral war fought for selfish and arrogant reasons, doomed to fail --perhaps because it was immoral.  The quotes below illustrate the contextual legacy of WWII and the moral dilemma American Clergy faced in response to an unjust War.

“History asks that question about the rise of Nazism in the 1930s in Germany, and notes the failure of the churches to speak up until it was too late” (Vietnam: Crisis of Conflict, 65)

“Christians who aimed to rebuild society on Christian teachings faced enormous structural challenges.  Too often the church deferred to secular authority, namely, the nation-state and the narrow economic interests of capitalists” (Klejment & Roberts, 155)

Post-Vietnam, does a Just War still exist? Is the behaviour of the clergy in the readings a continuation of a moral responsibility to be society’s conscience or a re-appropriation of that responsibility?