(De)Globalization, the Global Imaginary, and Religious Narratives: A Theoretical Framework and the East Asia Litmus Test

Abstract

Faced with the twin challenges of globalization and de-globalization, do religions exercise agency in these trends? In other words, do they give shape to them, or are they rather shaped by them? If the influence is reciprocal, how should the process behind this be described? This article sets itself two tasks. Firstly, it endeavors to develop a theoretical framework by which to conceptualize the question just posed. Secondly, it applies this framework to the case of China and, more cursorily, to the East Asian context in general. I start my analysis by approaching “globalization” as a shared vision of the world, referred to, in this article, as the “global imaginary”. The recent erosion of the latter has led to “deglobalization”, a set of narratives that remain correlated to the globalist storyline they confront. Central to the topic is that fact that the crisis experienced by the global imaginary affects the interplay between its secular and religious dimensions. The secular imaginary had fostered a homogenous narrative that has caused both ontological and epistemological crises. The resurgence of religious discourse within the narratives of deglobalization is to be understood as part and parcel of competing interpretations of the global modernization process, since the latter obeys both secular and religious forces. Focusing in the second part of this article on trends and representations proper to China in its regional context enables us to better assess how the globalization and deglobalization narratives intermingle in religious and secular dimensions in a way that reshapes each of them.

1. Introduction

Religious expressions and organizations are variously affected by the remodeling of the global system, and they also sometimes impact said remodeling (Beyer 2007). If this double fact is widely recognized, the nature of this interaction and the causal chain that lie behind are described in terms that often remain vague and elliptical. Some preliminary distinctions may help us clarify the picture.

The most remarkable aspect of globalization lies in the fact that it has generated, of itself, counteracting trends and forces, a phenomenon that is referred to as “deglobalization”. Globalization and deglobalization are not solely objective phenomena or processes; they also function as a cognitive framework through which the world is understood and interpreted. In this perspective, deglobalization refers to (1) a decline in global connectivity or a reorganization of the global order that has prevailed during the few decades preceding the two last ones; (2) a set of discourses and representations through which the world trajectory is imagined in ways that, for one part, differ from the one generally presented during the last four centuries or so (and notably during the last half-century), and, for the other part, have been reshaped by this once dominant set of tropes. This article is not attempting to assess whether we are currently experiencing globalization, deglobalization, or re-globalization. Rather, my focus is on emphasizing changes in narratives, the factors that cause them, and heir implications.

From the 1980s to the 2020s, there has been a shift from a globalization narrative to a deglobalization narrative. The first two decades of this time span were dominated by a storyline according to which universalizing forces operating from everywhere were influencing everyone and everything (see for instance Waters 1995). By contrast, the new millennium has witnessed the emergence of a narrative of deglobalization, which sometimes merely states the waning and/or reversal of the process and sometimes advocates for its undoing. (Strictly speaking, the discourse focused on “advocacy” speaks less of deglobalization than of anti-globalization or counter-globalization. This point is specified below). The shift from one narrative model to another became noticeable after the events of 9/11. It was strengthened in the 2010s with the rise in populism and religious nationalism in political discourses around the world.

That the dominant narrative regarding the state and future of religions has shifted around the same time is not mere coincidence. Secularization paradigm has become more widely questioned from the 2000s onward and has often been substituted by diverse paradigms of religious resurgence, sometimes mixed with a new appreciation for the resources offered by religious pluralism (Berger 2014, pp. 53–57). These two narratives—deglobalization and the resurgence of religion—are two sides of the same coin, reflecting a changing view in the understanding of what “modernity” and “post-modernity” refer to.

I will use the term “global imaginary” as a key concept when analyzing this twofold shift. This concept was first introduced by Manfred Steger (Steger 2008). Let me put stress on two aspects among those that inspired Steger’s approach to the global imaginary. First, it borrows from Benedict Anderson’s notion of “imagined communities” on a national level (Anderson 1983), now extended to a global scale. Second, it also relies on Charles Taylor’s interpretation of “modern social imaginaries” (Taylor 2004); despite its rooting in Western traditions (an aspect emphasized by Taylor), the modern imaginary exercises a global influence. As Steger asserts, during the 19th century, various social imaginaries transformed into national imaginaries shaped by secular ideologies—including liberalism, conservatism, socialism, and communism. Then, catalyzed by World War II, the global imaginary started to take shape, initially marked by competing Cold War ideologies. Subsequently, market globalism and its associated imperialism gained significant prominence in the 1990s. This trend sparked resistance from movements such as justice globalism and Jihadist globalism, among others (Steger 2008, pp. 3–11, 130–33).

Throughout the evolution that occurred from the national to the global imaginary, secular ideologies continued to dominate. However, as can be seen in recent decades, the challenge brought to globalization is increasingly issued by religious nationalism (Juergensmeyer 2008, pp. 9–38; 2019). This leads us to tentatively modify the perspective through which the relation between (de)globalization and religions is usually considered; if globalization can be seen as the process that leads from the secular national imaginary to a global imaginary (the features of which are notably determined by economic forces), then deglobalization can be viewed as a reversion to religious nationalism. Analysis of the interplay between secular and religious dynamics will now enable me to further clarify the relationship between globalization and deglobalization.

I will show how the surge of said imaginary has been shaped by the secularization narrative and has affected the collective perception of both time and space. I will thus read religious resurgences as an epistemological reaction to the constraints and limitations proper to the secular global imaginary, a reaction that the deglobalization narratives foster and empower.

In the last section, I will submit my hypotheses and conclusions to the litmus test of China, considering also, in a more cursory way, the cultural context of East Asia as a whole. Why speak of a “litmus test”? Applying the theoretical framework which I progressively develop throughout this article to Western Europe, the Middle East, or Southeast Asia would have been much easier, as the dominant narrative on globalization, deglobalization, and religions preferentially mobilizes examples borrowed from these regions. However, I would like to illustrate the fact that, even though trends and features characterizing China and East Asia during the last forty years or so markedly differ from the ones found in the areas just mentioned, the set of concepts to be used in all cases remains one and the same.

2. The Global Imaginary: The Spatial–Temporal Crises of the Secular Global Imaginary

2.1. Secular Time and Space in the Global Imaginary

For the global imaginary, “the ‘objective’ acceleration and multiplication of global material networks occurs hand in hand with the intensifying ‘subjective’ recognition of a shrinking world”, as it “involves both the macrostructures of community and the microstructures of personhood” (Steger 2008, pp. 11–12). In this sense, a nexus of transformations in the way local and cultural communities experience time and space has formed the basis of the new imagined community known as “the global”. There would be no global imaginary without the surge of the “global village” metaphor (McLuhan 1962, p. 31), which frames the world as a singular entity, with events unfolding simultaneously across communities described and valued in similar terms. The compression of time and space makes both categories emptied and dis-embedded from specific places, connecting them in a broader territory, the one of “the global” (Harvey 1989, p. 240; Giddens 1991, pp. 17–21; Robertson 1992, p. 8). Local times and spaces, once related to multidimensional, ontological meanings enriched with sacred explanations and practices, have been disembodied. Instead, a homogeneous interpretation of time and space has been globalized.

A secular understanding of global time–space dynamics has ontologically unified the meaning and the goal of the globalization process. There is no space for mystery, only space to be discovered and exploited through scientific and technological means. Similarly, there is no time for mystery, only a past, which is to be recognized as such, and a future to plan and organize. Events and actions no longer require a connection to a “higher time” as to maintain cosmic and/or moral order; rather, they happen in a this-worldly sequence arranged by humans (Taylor 2007, pp. 56–59). As the secular time and space are integrated by the narrative of a good that is necessarily immanent, a new kind of global time–space connectivity emerges. Human beings are engaged in an ongoing endeavor to advance both the planet and the species through a shared vision of the future—one rooted in the concept of globalization (see Latour 2018, the fifteenth chapter), a discourse loaded with obvious messianic undertones. To be globalized” meant “to be modernized”—a form of secular salvation of the world that could not but be the common aim of all societies. It may even have provided some analysts with a kind of telos of universal history, according to which spatial integration and mobility would eventually and almost automatically generate harmony and prosperity.

2.2. Epistemological Crises and the Economic/Financial Ethos

Financial/economic concepts and activities are the prime suppliers of the secular and global imaginary. Production and consumption are the driving force behind the present world order. Although the globalization of manufacturing, markets, and capital has raised concerns, it has achieved the goal of self-expansion and global connectivity that was assigned to it, and it has legitimized the statement according to which our everyday practices connect with and are like those of others in the same limited world (Delanty 2009, pp. 252–53; Steger and James 2013).

The economic field is supposed to be completely rational and immanent. Economy has emerged as an independent and autonomous sphere within modern social imaginaries, envisioned as fulfilling both natural and cosmic orders (Taylor 2004, p. 75)—a notion further enriched by the idea of doux commerce (Hirschman [1977] 1997, p. 62). Economic institutions operate within this immanent frame, stabilized around the time economic markets started to be globalized through the expansion of colonial empires and of capital systems.

Nevertheless, the economic sphere is not as secular as it claims to be. It has its religious origins, and it functions like a religion in a metaphorical sense. What becomes the legitimate basis of economic globalization is the international law and the principle of free passage, both of which are deeply rooted in a Christian theology of natural law (Strenski 2004), as is the invisible hand itself (Latour and Lépinay 2008, p. 41), not to mention that the (deified) market is increasingly becoming a quasi-religious faith system, with competing forms of orthodoxy and heterodoxy. The market serves as the Aristotelian First Cause of global production and wealth, and the development of the economy itself has become the telos of globalization (Cox 2016, pp. 6–9).

Therefore, generalizing the insights I have just summarized, the economy has taken over the traditional role of religion as the “sacred canopy” (Berger [1967] 1990), which turns the economic recession into an epistemological crisis. Consequently, global financial crises have far-reaching effects beyond the economy itself. Losing faith in the economy raises doubts about the confidence in humanity’s capacity for self-providence, which the Enlightenment cemented, as well as about rationality as reflected in economics. It also raises questions about whether the modern social revolution, once considered complete, has truly paved an inescapable and righteous path towards pursuing the common good. An economic recession signifies a betrayal of globalization’s promise to enhance both individual and collective well-being through economic activities. It is no coincidence that populist and nationalist sentiments against globalization tend to emerge during times of recession, fueled by the disillusionment resulting from unfulfilled promises. The epistemological crisis surrounding global imaginaries has led to the questioning of the modern/secular imaginary of time–space.

2.3. The Ontological Crises Met by the Global Imaginary

The global revolutions that occurred worldwide between 1789 and 1989 have all come with the institution of a new “higher time”, according to which temporal sequences are reorganized and the teleology of history is reinterpreted (Latour 1993, pp. 70–71; Taylor 2007, pp. 712–14; Arjomand 2019, pp. 1–4). At the same time, the new symbolic beginning that each revolution performs is intrinsically secular insofar as the collective identity that grants the legitimacy to the nation-state (“the people”) is retrospectively constructed upon a common history (secular time) happening in the framework of the ancestral territory (secular space). The concept is self-contained and no longer necessarily needs to be embedded in any transcendent structures as it once was. Meanings are generated from the new origin time, which connects with the future realization of the aims of revolutions. Therefore, it fosters a discontinuous view of modernity, suggesting that globalization represents a definitive break with the past (Giddens 1991, p. 4), because past traditions cannot support the reproduction of the collective imaginary.

The meaning of time has shifted globally towards a future-oriented vision, a secular eschatology. This new order of time is established according to a future of human flourishing, which is to be achieved through the development of intellectual and technological means that can cognitively and practically transform society. A consistent social time has been extracted from the actual chaos that is time (Latour 1993, pp. 74–76). In the narrative of globalization, societies must keep the promise of flourishing and avoiding recession, unless the continuity of time, ensured by the certainty of the fulfillment of said promise, is broken.

Paradoxically, attempts at constructing a uniform time order, from secular origin to eschatological fulfillment, have exacerbated the disorders that were supposed to be resolved by the same process. Globalization has oversimplified the multidimensional ontological meanings of time and origin. The shaping of a simultaneous global time has resulted in a sense of disorientation that became apparent during the period when the final setting of coordinated time zones provided the world with a definite metaphor of what the global time is meant to be (Ogle 2015, pp. 97–98, 186, 199–202).

And yet, the secular-based eschatological time order has largely lost its power of conviction. A successful narrative of globalization relies on the fulfillment of the ultimate order of time. In recent decades, although there has been a remarkable improvement in human well-being in general (around 2020, according to the HDI index, almost all countries, except those experiencing endless conflicts, had achieved a higher standard of living than was the case 50 years ago—UNDP 2022), inequality and disequilibrium have reached extreme levels, and periodical recessions have fostered anti-globalization movements. In addition, the proliferation of both extreme weather events and infectious diseases (Robertson 2021; UNDP 2022) disrupts the smooth temporal unfolding towards achieved prosperity as envisioned by the secular imaginary. Temporality has become inconsistent.

Moreover, the future hangs over societies no longer as a promise but rather as an obligation, if not a fate. Individuals and societies are constantly engaged in a process of self-transformation, shaped by a vision of the future that often fails to deliver (Bauman 2007, p. 87). They confront a double disarray: the interpretation of the signs of time relies neither on the lens of the globalization narrative nor on the ones of tradition, even if the latter nurtures a nostalgy that contributes to re-awake religious imaginaries (Juergensmeyer et al. 2015, pp. 36–37).

In combination with a shared sense of time, a sense of space grounds a community’s self-consciousness. By contrast, local heterogeneous spaces needed to be conquered, transformed, and rearranged in the pursuit of global modernization (Harvey 1989, p. 254). The disordered spatiality reflects itself in the form of competing national and global narratives that draws conflicting boundaries between the Self and the Other, narratives that are widely disputed as the dual processes of globalization and deglobalization coupled with the interplay of the secular and religious identities continue to unfold.

The secular Self is meant to be the building block of the imagined community, whether a nation or the globe. The nation-state establishes its boundaries and ensures a reliable sense of certainty within its territory by producing and reproducing the national imaginary through official institutions and narratives (Bauman 1997, pp. 153–55). During this process, religious affiliation becomes secondary and turns into a cultural identity related to the ethnic one. Cohesion among various spatialities is achieved through either an official ideology combined with secular nationalism, symbolized by patriotism towards one’s homeland in the national imaginary (Taylor 2011, p. 91), or a sacralization of humanity as cosmopolitanism in the global imaginary (José Casanova 1999).

Although national imaginaries may have effectively created and maintained the secular Self, it is improbable that the same impact will be observed on a global scale, given the variety of cultures and the absence of institutions comparable to the ones found in nation-states. In fact, globalization has promoted both the homogenization of territories and the mixing of the Other and the Self within them, leading to a continuous redefinition of the territory and its inhabitants.

The Others are outsiders who leave their assigned historical place and invade the frontiers of a presumed homogeneous nation-state (Harvey 1989, p. 252). The Other might be—as it is presently often the case in Western discourses—a religious Other; the influx of immigrants with different religious worldviews has challenged the collective imaginary of the secular nation-state, which has led to defensive ethno-nationalism or populist movements that sometimes combine with religious nationalism (Juergensmeyer et al. 2023, pp. 1–4). Conversely, in a non-Western context, the Other is often a secular Other, similarly destructive of one’s tradition; as such, they epitomize Western hegemony. Counter-universalism will resort to religious traditions for offering alternative accounts of modernity and the ills it has brought with it (Arjomand 2010). As the Others undermine homogeneity, their presence leads to epistemological uncertainties (Bauman 1997, pp. 164–66). Uncertainties frequently arise from, and contribute to, a sense of dislocation in one’s historical identity, combined with the rapid changes in urban and rural landscapes that occurred with the advent of globalization.

As a narrative discourse, globalization is fundamentally a cultural construct that concerns itself with order, particularly with the ordering of a rebuilt and universal time–space. In its first stage, global modernity had succeeded in establishing a secular order, with time spanning from the Origins to an eschatological horizon, and Sameness and Otherness located in well-defined territories. Secular interpretations of time–space generally promote a homogenous order associated with a monolithic view of modernity, which leads to a depletion of the collective imaginary and makes these interpretations struggle to address correlated social and cultural crises.

2.4. The Secular–Religious Dynamic in (De)Globalizations

For the narrative of globalization, the question at hand is whether there is only one path to global modernization or if there are multiple paths for different actors. As the ever-changing context provided by “the global” necessarily challenges exclusive interpretations (Axford 2021), a “global perspective” gradually deconstructs the monism of modernity; it acknowledges that different centers of modernity are to be identified, while their degree of (inter)dependence requires elucidation. In this sense, deglobalization does not imply a withdrawal from globalization, as anti-globalization or counter-globalization does, nor does it imply an adjustment of the global dynamics, as re-globalization does. Rather, deglobalization and globalization are dual opposing trends that cannot be separated, reflecting a constitutive tension within modern universalism. In this context, the terms “global” and “universal” usually refer to the homogeneous aspect of modernity, whereas “religion(s)” is often associated with that which makes obstacles to (homogeneous) modernity.

Although all religions are becoming more globalized by the very fact of the globalization process, the narrative of globalization is prone to marginalize religious discourses and practices. Said narrative is notorious for ignoring or belittling the traditional cultures of which religions are part and parcel and for noticing only with utmost difficulty the hybrids shaped by new cultural trends—this because it instinctively promotes secular universalizing forces, such as technology, market economy, or else bureaucratic/rationalized organization (Berger 2014, p. 53). Global society is supposed to share a uniform institutional structure that ensures the march towards and ultimate rooting of a universal modern identity. By the same token, modern nation-states are expected to be homogeneous in terms of ethnicity, language, and collective storytelling. Conversely, distinct religious traditions are understood and constructed merely in terms of cultural identity. In this dichotomy, religion is either considered irrelevant to the global imaginary or is seen as a counterforce to globalization as a form of particularism that confronts universalism.

At this point, it is worth noting that “modernity” has been given an account of through a concealed religious discourse. First, the origins of Western modernity can be traced back to a Christian discourse (Gillespie 2008, pp. 4, 22), which means that the present claim that the same “modernity” is secular by essence may appear as being dubious in the ears of many cultural traditions. Second, as a corrective and development of the first assertion, Eisenstadt has claimed that the modernization projects that have flourished worldwide were not only based on the original Western structure but had been transformed from the outset according to each civilization’s eschatology, under the influence of various axial religions (Eisenstadt 2000a, 2005). Moreover, even secular modernity itself remains an incomplete project (Habermas 1987), leaving it open to new interpretations by emerging religious actors.

The premise of homogeneity can hardly be maintained in a globally connected world. In previous times, the homogeneous view of the nation was already originating from an urge for classification and a need for epistemic clarity (Bauman 1997, pp. 149–50), which went against the variety of historical and material realities covered by the notion. When trying to give an account of what could be dubbed “the global condition”, the same urge towards epistemic clarity leads to a hegemonic understanding of the reality being accounted for, an understanding translated into notions such as methodological nationalism (see Wimmer and Schiller 2002) or ([in]famously) a clash of civilizations (Huntington 1996). And yet, the paradoxical religious dynamic that the globalization process fosters also proceeds from the fact that the process of cultural hybridization does not result in uniformity, but rather in transformations (Nederveen Pieterse 1994; Bauman 2013; Roudometof 2014). The global age is not segmented by separate cultures and religions. Rather, all of them are intertwined and networked through an ongoing process of shaping, un-shaping, and reshaping. If the meeting of all cultures can indeed be described (with due reservations) as the shaping of a totality from which a new “Axial Age” is emerging (Eisenstadt 2000b, 2001), at the same time each culture lives within flexible boundaries that are constantly changing through encounters.

Furthermore, examining the setting proper to religions in the context of globalization enables us to pinpoint a dynamic of cultural plurality. In the long term of global history, a specific religion penetrates different civilizations while a given civilization or nation encompasses the legacies of various religions (José Casanova 2011a). The globalization of a given religions enriches its self-understanding and practices, and religious encounters happening at the local level transform what was once considered to be traditional, proper to a local community. Both the local and global are formed through these interactions, as religions are carriers of culture, fostering a nexus of relationships among nations and civilizations.

Recovering the religious dimension present within specific variants of modernity has contributed to the emergence of the narrative of deglobalization. Nowadays, the controversies surrounding deglobalization do not simply contrast the universal/secular modernity that confronts the plurality of cultures and evokes resistances from them. Rather, it is about cultural differences epitomized by religious standpoints, differences that necessarily lead to divergent paths towards a global modernity precisely defined by the diversity of these paths. Potentially, religious discourses construct and justify modernization projects.

As stressed by Clifford Geertz, religions are led to “[formulate] conceptions of a general order of existence” (Geertz [1966] 1973, p. 90). Religions deal with issues that determine the basic features of a given type of social order. Specifically, and as claimed by Riesebrodt, “historically, it has been mostly through religions that the chaotic potential of crises has been culturally transformed into the semblance of cosmos. Religions have created the trust in the ability of social groups to prevent crises from happening or to cope with them if they do happen. Religion as a resource of cultural crisis prevention and management, hence, equally serves collective and individual needs” (Riesebrodt 2003, p. 106).

In the context of present-day religious nationalism and populism, both the reconstruction of the past through selected religious memory and the reconstitution of the religious Self respond to the epistemological crises caused by the process of modernization, culminating in globalization. Accelerated social changes triggered by globalization had threatened narratives centered around a given, homogeneous “people”. Religious identity serves to distinguish the Self from the Other in uncertain conditions. The Other may become a projection of the anxiety felt by the Self, and it may be cast as the scapegoat for social and for economic crises. The stress on religious identity often conveys cultural (rather than properly religious) characteristics (Delanty 2008; Cohen 2018, p. 189; Juergensmeyer 2019). From a more positive perspective, the reawakening of religious memory helps in maintaining the continuity of a religious, national (or religious/national) group as a “people” in a world undergoing transformation. A shared time is recreated and reclaimed through a narrative based on religious nostalgia that in turns fosters an eschatological dream, while the “global village” is fading away (Boym 2001, pp. 44–45).

By restoring collective memories shattered by globalization, religions reveal their potential to reshape modernity through religious narratives. The reawakening of religious memory and the way the latter reinterprets the present challenge a uniform view of historical purpose, connecting the past with the future—a connection that global modernity is at pains to establish (Hervieu-Léger 2000, p. 143). Religious discourses foster multiple interpretations of modernity; through these interpretations, religious memories and identities restore, in competing fashion, time–spaces disrupted by the globalization discourse and process. Thus, religious resurgences contribute to the re-establishment of a common vision within a group that feels threatened. At the same time, the diversity of said resurgences happening within networked territories triggers inter-religious and religious–secular dialogues and tensions, a dynamic that nurtures both globalization and deglobalization.

However, the relationship between the secular and the religious is not univocal. The narratives that stress present religious resurgence oversimplify complex situations the same way that the narratives about secularization did before them. Globalization has brought about the coexistence of the religious and the secular Selves; in a mutually constitutive process, secular universalizing forces are intertwined with religious discourses (José Casanova 2011b, 2018b). The meanings assigned to the (real and imaginary) spaces that we inhabit are open to multiple interpretations. They are shaped by the interplay between religious and secular patterns, the forms taken by this interplaying varying from one regional context to another. Yet the opposition between the secular and the religious temporalities is far from being absolute. In most cases, narratives about the future are not shaped solely by competing memories between the secular and the religious; rather, they emerge from a dynamic combination of both, even when the actors are not conscious of the complex and often implicit synthesis that is continuously taking place.

3. East Asia in (De)Globalization Narratives

3.1. An East Asian Perspective on (De)Globalization

Both globalization and deglobalization narratives were initially put forward by Western sociology; East Asia is not the centric area where such debates have been taking place. The perspective developed by the historian Paul A. Cohen may help us to account for this fact. Cohen has criticized three classical approaches to the study of Chinese history, namely, the impact–response model, the tradition–modernity model, and the imperialism model (Cohen [1985] 2010, pp. 151–53). This is analogous to the situation regarding East Asia’s position in the (de)globalization narrative. The prevailing narrative bearing on the successive waves of globalization posits that global integration commenced with the European discovery of the New World following 1492. This was further reinforced by imperialism following the achievements of industrialization, along with missionary movements in the 19th century. Subsequently, a third phase was initiated with the establishment of the UN, particularly in the context of neoliberalism during the 1990s. This narrative on globalization as divided into three phases is very much based on the Western-centric perspective. According to it, East Asia lost its agency at some point and had to act passively, its modernization overwhelmingly determined by a global process.

Such a perspective obviously needs to be corrected. As demonstrated by Hobson, Asian and Arabic areas exerted an influence on Europe prior to European global expansion. Moreover, Asian empires retained a considerable degree of influence and autonomy until the 19th century (Hobson 2004, pp. 29–96). Additionally, Pieterse has delineated eight phases of globalization, each with a distinctive centric node, beginning with Eurasia in 3000 BC, the Middle East in 500 AD, the Euro-Atlantic in the 1500s, and ending with East Asia in the 2000s and so on (Nederveen Pieterse 2012, p. 19). According to Pieterse, the histories of the East and the West are parallel rather than binary, with their influences interlaced to produce multidirectional and multipolar global flows (Nederveen Pieterse 2009, p. 140). Despite the Western origins of the discourse on global modernity, the Asian way of development suggests an alternative explanation of the same phenomenon.

In the narrative of globalization that progressively emerged after WWII, the European and American paths were treated as the modernization paradigm, which soon raised not only concerns as to Western hegemony and its consequences but also critiques from the post-colonial or post-modern perspectives. And yet, paradoxically, the 2010s witnessed a relative withdrawal from the process of globalization initiated by the same Westerners who had been pioneers in the process for the last two centuries or so, as they claimed to have suddenly become its victims (see, for instance, The Economist 2022). This shift might point towards the fact that we are here in the presence not solely of a contest between East and West, or South and North, but also, and maybe more fundamentally, about competing interpretations of modernity.

However, comparing the East and the West can be somewhat ambiguous, as the term “West” encompasses a diverse range of countries; the United States’ globalization narrative shows significant differences from that of nations like France or the United Kingdom. Similarly, East Asia includes varied contexts, as seen in the distinct experiences of China, Japan, and Korea during the last decades. Despite these variations, conducting a broad comparison remains meaningful because the concept of globalization itself operates on an expansive and inclusive scale. Too much emphasis on individual variations risks undermining the ability to derive overarching conclusions. Still, so as to better focus our comparison, I contrast here deglobalization in Western Europe, (a region characterized by its Christian legacy) with East Asia (shaped by Confucian traditions)—in essence, comparing the post-secular/Christian West with the post-Confucian East.

I argue that the prevailing challenges of globalization in Western societies today stem predominantly from their economic dimensions, a perspective that often reduces globalization to a narrowly economic framework while neglecting its broader cultural implications. By contrast, the narrative of deglobalization is largely rooted in cultural reactions, particularly those inspired by religious discourses, which resist the imposition of a homogeneous secular culture propagated through the globalization narrative. A comparative analysis of the variations in economic globalization and the differing cultural reactions in the East and West provides a fresh perspective on the complexities of deglobalization.

3.2. Crises of the Secular Imaginary in East Asia

In the previous section, I posited that the crisis of the secular imaginary stems from a disordered temporality related to its secular origins and eschatology, as well as a disordered spatiality influenced by religious and secular Others. Since 1945, the secular imaginary, which is rooted in economic globalization, has undergone various peaks and troughs. The 2008 financial crisis and the 2020 pandemic marked a significant shift in the trajectory of global economic engagement, revealing critical failures of modern promises and indicating a rupture with secular eschatology. However, when inserted in a larger temporal framework, Western and Eastern experiences diverge significantly; following post-war reconstruction, Western European and East Asian countries have experienced asynchronous development phases and differing recessionary periods.

The Western discourse on deglobalization is predicated on two fundamental issues. Firstly, the aftermath of the financial crisis can be seen as testifying to the missed promise of the secular eschatological time order. Secondly, the immigration issue cannot be separated from the way “religious Others” are perceived in secularized societies. To be specific, European countries experienced swift economic recovery after WWII. However, the first significant disruption occurred with the 1973 oil crisis, which was followed by another period of accelerated globalization after the end of the third oil crisis in 1991. This period saw the formal establishment of the European Union in 1993, which may be regarded as symbolizing the cosmopolitan project. However, the 2009 debt crisis and the 2015 migration crisis introduced new obstacles. At the same time, the United States has been the greatest power and leading character in globalization, until the 9/11 terrorist attacks and the 2008 subprime lending crisis as turning points. While the EU and the US have historically been at the vanguard of shaping the rules of political and economic globalization, however, the outflow of global transfer of capital and industry to Asia and other regions, coupled with the inflow of challenges related to guest workers, refugees, and immigration, has contributed to a rise in populism and nationalism, two currents that make globalization the scapegoat for the crises that the Western world presently confronts.

The storytelling of globalization in East Asia follows a different timeline. Japan embarked on a trajectory of economic growth and prosperity since the 1960s, culminating in the 1990s before the asset price bubble, which marked a significant turning point. South Korea experienced its own economic takeoff in the 1960s, only to encounter its first major disruption during the 1997 Asian financial crisis. The emergence of the so-called “Four Asian Tigers” (not all of them located in East Asia) marks the advent of Asia’s influence on economic globalization. As can be seen, the 1990s represented a period of economic prosperity for both the EU and the US, occurring concurrently with a period of economic decline in numerous Asian countries.

In this context, China experienced accelerated growth and integration into the global economy following the 1978 Reform and Opening-Up policy. Nevertheless, it was not until 2001, subsequent to China’s accession to the WTO, that this growth reached its full potential. China’s modernization has been a decisive factor, with this far beyond its regional impact: “The rise of China cannot be understood in isolation from the fact that its driving force has been globalization itself—and, at the same time, China’s reappearance [on the world stage] has considerably accelerated the pace of globalization. We are therefore witnessing a feedback phenomenon. China would not be as powerful today without the sudden acceleration of the globalization process that began in the late 1980s. But there would have been no such rapid globalization had China not accepted to be one of its driving forces” (Vermander 2008, p. 24).

Thus, the key issue related to deglobalization in Western countries consistently differ from the ones highlighted by the East Asian agenda. On the one hand, East Asia is less influenced by the economic crises that spanned the last decades, and nowadays its development has made this area the center around which the world’s growth revolves. On the other hand, East Asian countries have historically imposed stringent immigration restrictions, resulting in a dearth of experience in coping with large-scale migration in societies. Therefore, despite the shared narrative of globalization, the narratives of deglobalization resonate differently in Europe and in East Asia—this because of the discrepancies registered in the temporal and spatial dimensions through which the dynamic of globalization has been experienced.

The above does not mean that East Asia is escaping some of the most recent global trends. As a matter of fact, inter- and intra-regional rivalries are sharpening. Moreover, development is not proceeding equally on all fronts, with inequalities widening at the same time as riches accumulate. In addition, the unprecedented economic benefits resulting from globalization have gone, it is sensed, with cultural alienation, a feeling particularly acute in China (Wei 2002), with, for instance, a loss of the sense of the “family” as an intermediary between the individual and the group (Sun 2019). Such a sense of alienation largely explains the various attempts at (re)defining national identity and cultural traits.

Put another way, in East Asia, concerns about the link between globalization and modernization are mainly about the origins of the latter; globalization has marked a departure from Eastern traditions. However, as East Asia’s economic successes have continuously unfolded, the initial association between globalization, modernization, and Westernization has weakened. There is an increasing recognition of the unique and indigenous character of East Asia’s modernization process, deeply rooted in its cultural traditions. The region’s economic miracles have often sparked debates about the existence of a distinctive East Asian modernity, exemplified by theories such as the post-Confucian hypothesis. As argued by Peter Berger, the Confucian work ethic (mixed with elements coming from Buddhism, Daoism, Shintoism, and other folk religions) can be compared to the Protestant ethic in its role in the development of capitalism (Berger 1988, pp. 5–10).

Thus, East Asian countries’ deglobalization narratives are not in opposition to the globalization discourse; they rather focus on the region’s cultural uniqueness while remaining inserted into the discourse of globalization. They become more nationalized (see the divergences of the cultural/economic model between China, Japan, and Korea), even as they concurrently grow more integrated within the global framework.

To conclude the comparison, contemporary Western crises of the globalization narrative are primarily rooted in challenges to secular eschatology and the presence of religious Others. By contrast, East Asia’s challenges focus on secular origins and secular Others, leading to a nostalgia-driven revival and reinterpretation of cultural elements from tradition. For instance, the resurgence of Confucianism serves as a restoration of religious memory and identity—a topic I will explore further in the next section.

4. The Post-Confucian Social Imaginary

4.1. The Secularization of Conficianism and the Revival of Confucian Discourses in China

As Chen has argued, the question of the nature of Confucianism and that of its religiosity are as much epistemological as they are sociopolitical. An ontological crisis stemmed from the great transformations undergone by 20th century China—“from the Confucian paradigms to the paradigms of modernity”. The post-Confucian reinvention of the Confucian tradition continues to change the interpretation of the past, as well as the imaginary attached to the future (Chen 2013, pp. 4–5). In this sense, the de-Confucianization and re-Confucianization trends in China over the past century cannot be understood as isolated internal developments but must instead be seen as deeply intertwined with the forces of globalization. During the era of imperial globalization, the intense competition surrounding the modern project in China—particularly from 1919 to 1949—ultimately prompted a departure from Confucianism, which finally had been secularized and relegated to the margins. Yet the revival of Confucianism, initiated in the 1980s and gaining momentum in the new century, reflects China’s attempt to reshape its cultural/religious memory and identity in global engagement efforts. This reimagining draws upon its Confucian heritage, weaving it into a renewed narrative that aligns tradition with the demands of modern globalization.

To begin with, it is crucial to consider which aspects of traditional Confucianism had been rejected or not; the same English word relates to three different Chinese expressions. Rujia (Confucian school or scholar) corresponds to the intellectual elites’ self-identity; Ruxue (Confucian learning) refers to a secular scholastic tradition; and Rujiao (Confucian teaching or religion) mainly refers to diffused religious practice, as well as to the rituals established by the state religion (Chen 2013, pp. 30–34; Fan and Chen 2015, p. 27). The three categories are more complementary than mutually exclusive.

The modernization of Confucianism in China has marginalized the references to Rujiao (Confucian religious practice) and Rujia (Confucian intellectual identity). In the late 19th century Qing Dynasty, Confucian fundamentalism, promoted by state agents and local elites, sought to replace local cults associated with Daoism and Buddhism with a homogeneous Neo-Confucian elite culture. This reflected a longstanding political tension between the central state and local autonomy, a tension that persists to this day (Goossaert and Palmer 2012, pp. 34–35). In the 20th century, the distinction between “religion” and “superstition” further marginalized Confucian folk practices. Finally, the termination of the imperial examination system in 1905 rendered Confucian teaching irrelevant to the new political agenda, while the end of state sacrifices during the Republic period similarly diminished the significance of Confucian religion. After the May Fourth Movement of 1919, Confucian scholars lost much of their influence, as modern intellectuals increasingly embraced Western culture and science (Goossaert and Palmer 2012, pp. 50–57) and later adopted Marxism, a thoroughly secular ideology. Confucian philosophy persisted as a purified version of Confucianism, stripped of its transcendent elements, and was primarily retained as a system of moral teachings that needed to be compatible with the modern state.

Consequently, Confucianism, once central to Chinese spiritual and political life, was marginalized as the nationalist political religion gained prominence. Chinese nationalism during the revolutionary periods replaced political Confucianism with a new form of national imaginary, a secular ideology characterized by the use of “religious language, its rhetoric of apocalypse and palingenesis, and its culture of practical activism” (Klein 2014, p. 57). In this framework, the revolutionary ideology nurtured and kept the promise of the future, whereas traditional religions were redefined as symbols of the past to be eradicated.

The new millennium witnessed the revival of the Confucian discourse, both secular and religious, in Chinese society. The recompilation of family genealogy and a form or another of ancestor worship came into fashion (Fan and Chen 2015, p. 33). Confucian temples across the country were designated national cultural heritage sites, where people gathered to worship Confucius for blessings. There was also a renewed fever of Guoxue (national learning), a form of traditional knowledge based on Confucianism. Prominent interpreters such as Nan Huaijin and Yu Dan gained widespread recognition through mass media, and their books became bestsellers. Additionally, private schools focusing on teaching Confucian classics, filial piety, and traditional ethics emerged (Sun 2013, pp. 137, 158, 165). The government-funded establishment of overseas Confucius Institutes in 2004 and of the Nishan World Center for Confucian Studies in 2019 further emphasized the use of Confucianism as part of China’s cultural and political agenda. Significantly, both the state media China Daily and CGTN have referred to Nishan—located in the city Qufu where Confucius himself was born 2500 years ago—as “the sacred land” of Chinese culture and Confucianism (China Daily 2020; CGTN 2024).

The recent revival of Confucianism can be analyzed from both top–down and bottom–up perspectives. In general, using the framework developed in previous sections, I argue that this revival first of all serves as an effort to reconstruct collective memory in response to the rapid social changes driven by globalization, which have destabilized various aspects of society. This situation has been exacerbated by modernization’s tendency to disregard tradition. Through re-establishing ties with pre-modern traditions to maintain historical continuity, or by reinventing tradition to address contemporary feelings of rootlessness, Confucian values and symbols have been revived—mirroring the situation of other traditional religions in a global context. The reuse of cultural elements that reflected religious values in addressing politics and social issues underscores the potential for multiple modernities in diverse contexts (Hervieu-Léger 2000, pp. 141–43).

What is more, Confucianism serves as an identity marker that counters the homogenizing trends of globalization. The collective identity in China is subjected to pressures from globalization discourse, which is centered on the stereotype of an industrial, consumerist, secular, and imperial Western civilization. With the rapid developments occurring in East Asia, there is a pressing need for modernization that does not entail the wholesale embrace of Westernization, emphasizing the uniqueness of local cultural features.

Confucianism was once criticized in China during the revolutionary era as a hindrance to modernization. However, in recent decades, many of its elements have been re-evaluated for their potential contributions to China’s long pursuit of a “Chinese path to modernization”. Moral concepts like the “harmonious society”, which guide development, and the economic goal of building “a moderately prosperous society” draw their inspirations from the Confucian classic The Book of Rites. Over the past two decades, political discourses in China have increasingly integrated Confucian narratives into Communist ideology. As Chen has demonstrated, the “Chinese Dream” emphasizes self-cultivation; “Socialist Core Values” align with the Confucian ideal of family regulation; the “Belt and Road Initiative” reflects principles of state governance; the vision of “A Community of Shared Destiny for Mankind” resonates with the Confucian aspiration to pacify the world; this official Confucianism can be interpreted through the framework of The Great Learning, which presents a distinctly Chinese vision of a great chain of being within the global order (Chen 2021, pp. 57–59).

While the preceding discussion has traced the resurgence of Confucian discourse in China, one must guard against overstating its scope or singularity. The revival of popular Confucianism—manifested in heightened public interest and the renewed practice of its traditions—coincides with a broader rekindling of religious life across the nation. This revival spans Buddhism and, most notably, Christianity, marking a significant reorientation within China’s cultural and spiritual landscape (Billioud and Thoraval 2015, p. 170). Such developments can be attributed, in part, to the relaxation of cultural constraints following the Reform and Opening-Up era and, equally, to the deepening entanglement with global cultures.

This is also the case with Official Confucianism. On the one hand, the term Ru (儒) is conspicuously absent from official documents, even those imbued with Confucian metaphors. Yet its essence is subtly embedded in the broader promotion of “cultural confidence” rooted in Chinese traditions (Chen 2021, p. 51). On the other hand, consider the public ceremonies dedicated to Confucius in Qufu, where rites involving the welcoming and sending off of spirits—still practiced in Taiwan—are absent. This omission indicates that these ceremonies are not primarily designed as exchanges between humans and spirits but are instead shaped by political considerations (Billioud and Thoraval 2015, pp. 253–54). However, this foundation is inherently fragile, as the motivations behind such events remain contingent on shifting political agendas and could be easily redirected or abandoned.

Indeed, it would be inaccurate to suggest that the transcendent dimensions of Confucianism have been fully revived, with caution to be kept on that matter arising from the following reasons: Firstly, the inner transcendence achieved through self-transformation, as Tu Wei-Ming has claimed (Tu [1989] 1993, p. 94; Berthrong 1998, p. 62), cannot be considered a common pursuit. Moreover, it represents a perspective on religion inspired from Protestantism (Chen 2013, p. 123). At the same time, whereas Christianity maintains a clear division between the sacred and the profane, Confucianism perceives these realms as a continuum, without the sharp rupture that characterizes the Christian understanding (Chen 2013, p. 125). Historically, religious Confucianism had relied on its systematic interaction with state rituals and institutions (Paramore 2015, p. 178), wherein its transcendental dimension was fully manifested. However, this foundational structure has now been eroded, along with the sacred part of this continuum.

In conclusion, it is evident that Confucianism no longer holds the dominant cultural position it once enjoyed in ancient China. The prevailing cultural framework in contemporary China has been affected by a secular modernity, further reinforced by the atheistic principles embedded in Marxist ideology. However, even in its secularized form, Confucianism continues to shape Chinese social practices and values. The revival of Confucian discourse highlights its enduring vitality—its capacity to transform Chinese culture and to be transformed within an evolving social context.

4.2. The Post-Confucian Social Imaginary in East Asia

It is at this point, following the examination of de-Confucianism discourses and its resurgence in China during respective globalization phases, that I put forth my hypothesis of a post-Confucian social imaginary: Confucianism is so embedded in the social imaginaries of Chinese society that, although often reduced to philosophy and moral values, or political propaganda, it continues to shape collective memories and identities in this region. The secularization of Confucianism in China has taken place alongside another trajectory, wherein Confucianism continues to exert influence.

It is similar to the situation in Europe, where a secular imaginary predominates, although Christianity continues to intersect with European culture, customs, memories, and identities. This relationship positions Confucianism in China (or could cautiously extend to a wider region in East Asia) and Christianity in Europe as significant resources in the context of deglobalization trends.

According to Charles Taylor, the Western modernity in its very inception established a distinct social imaginary that underwent a gradual transformation characterized by a “shift from hierarchical, mediated-access societies to horizontal, direct-access societies”. This new imaginary, marked by the immediacy of access to the public sphere, economic agents, and citizenship (Taylor 2011, pp. 86–87), freed itself from traditional religious symbols and began to operate within a new sense of secular time, making disbelief a viable form of social existence. However, despite the secularization narrative, alternative possibilities remain; religious and secular narratives coexist and intersect in complex ways. While the secularization of Christianity tends to dominate, Taylor suggests that secular and religious imaginaries are interwoven in societies that he describes as a mix of “pre-Durkheim, Durkheim, and post-Durkheim” ways (Taylor 2007, pp. 455–59).

The modernization of East Asian societies was not an entirely spontaneous process; rather, it was initially triggered by interactions with Christian countries during the era of globalization in the 19th and 20th centuries. This encounter resulted in the emergence of a narrative of disenchantment that framed the description of the relationship between religion and modernity, which in turn shaped attitudes towards religions. As in China, folk religious practices classified as superstitious were systematically excluded from Confucianism (Goossaert and Palmer 2012, p. 35), resulting in a refined neo-Confucian philosophy that came to represent a more comprehensive and authoritative worldview. The influence of Protestant Christianity, particularly through missionary movements, became a blueprint for the modernization of indigenous religious institutions and the prevailing understanding of religion. The post-Westphalian Christian model of the modern nation-state, with its emphasis on secular modernity, played a crucial role in shaping the relationship between religion and states/society in Asian countries.

However, modernization in East Asia is far from a simple transplantation of Western institutions into Asian societies. Instead, deeply rooted Asian traditions continue to exert a significant influence on social structures and shape the functioning of modern institutions. Consider, for example, the economic and political fields addressed by Charles Taylor in his analysis of European modernity. The economic institutions in East Asia follow a hybrid model, integrating elements of both private and collective ownership in China and Vietnam, alongside capitalism systems which are sometimes criticized for displaying traits of crony capitalism in Japan and Korea. In the political sphere, there is also a compromise between liberalism and authoritarianism, shaped by the understanding of collectiveness and family ties. While Japan and Korea exhibit more democratic political systems, and China as well as Vietnam maintain a centralized state power, the authoritarian elements presented across all these contexts cannot be overlooked. Furthermore, moral values such as filial piety, loyalty, self-discipline, and the prioritization of education highlight the enduring influence of Confucian thought.

It would be premature to extend a hypothesis of a post-Confucian social imaginary to societies beyond China. Despite its long-standing recognition as a world religion, since the synchronous development between Max Müller’s establishment of the discipline of the comparative study of religions and James Legge’s translations of the Sacred Books of the East (Sun 2013, pp. 50, 57–60), Confucianism never truly exerted global influence in the way that some other major religions have. Confucianism has remained primarily a regional tradition. Its universal principles are deeply rooted in the East Asian worldview, closely tied to regional ritual practices and cultural customs. Historically, aside from Japan, Confucianism spread only to Sinitic countries politically influenced by China, such as Korea and Vietnam (Paramore 2015), or regions with significant Chinese diasporas, such as Singapore in Southeast Asia. In the contemporary period, Confucianism receives limited attention outside East Asia, except among overseas East Asian groups originating from migration and from academic scholars.

Within East Asia, taken as a whole, the religious landscape is complex due to the longstanding coexistence of multiple religious traditions. Confucianism, Buddhism, Daoism, Shintoism, Shamanism, and various forms of popular beliefs (in China, some popular beliefs are attributed to Confucianism, while others align with Daoism; in Japan, many have merged into Shintoism; and in Korea, some are subsumed under Shamanism) have all shaped the region’s spiritual and social fabric. Furthermore, East Asia has experienced relatively peaceful interactions with Islam, and Christianity has maintained a continuous presence since the arrival of Jesuit missionaries. All of these traditions have, respectively, influenced the social structures, as well as fostered a syncretism of beliefs and a bricolage of religious practices.

With regard to the Japanese case, first of all, the threefold concept of Confucianism is not applicable. Religious Confucianism was absent from the outset. Confucianism in Japan never developed a set of religious symbols integrated into popular religious practices or official state rituals. Despite the modern transformation period in Japan, it had played a role in reinforcing loyalty to the emperor and sustaining social hierarchies, and finally “the Confucian traditions of patriarchy, family loyalty, ancestor reverence, and generational and age hierarchy retained a good deal of their force” (Rozman [1991] 2014, p. 176). However, Confucianism in Japan has always been interpreted and integrated with or within Shintoism, blending into the broader cultural and political landscape rather than operating as an independent intellectual or institutional force as Buddhism and Shintoism did (Collcutt [1991] 2014, pp. 114, 145).

The hypothesis, however, aligns more closely with the Korean context. Korea is a society where Christianity and Buddhism coexist as prominent religious confessions, while Confucianism continues to exert a significant cultural influence. Korean Confucianism, rooted in the neo-Confucianism of Song China, has since evolved into a distinct system with its own features and emphases. The interplay between Confucianism and de-Confucianism discourses in Korean society is often linked to nationalist narratives, as well as inner political dynamics within Korean society. Furthermore, these discourses intersect with a broader narrative of civilization, which contrasts a progressive, modernized West with a supposedly backward, traditional East, as well as the shaping of Korean identity within this homogeneous trend (Duncan 2002, pp. 434–40).

The discourse surrounding (de)Confucianism has been strategically appropriated by various political actors to serve diverse ideological purposes. During the Japanese colonial period, the imperial regime promoted Confucian values and supported Confucian institutions to legitimize its governance (Rhyu et al. 2024), while paradoxically positioning Japan as a symbol of modernity in contrast to what it depicted as the antiquated traditions of the East. After 1945, Confucian discourses were used by politicians to justify authoritarian elitism, a stance that has been criticized by Minjung (민중, the people) scholars for perpetuating feudal hierarchies and by feminist thinkers for reinforcing patriarchal structures (Duncan 2002, pp. 441, 448–49).

President Park Chung-hee similarly demonstrated contradictory views on Confucianism. In his book Our Nation’s Path: Ideology of social Reconstruction, he criticized Confucianism for contributing to the perceived weakness of the Korean people and regarded it as an obstacle to modernization (Duncan 2002, p. 447). However, in the 1970s, he adopted a more favorable view, linking Confucianism to Korean national identity and modernity. His daughter, Park Geun-hye, who later became president, further endorsed this shift by emphasizing the importance of Confucian values. She delivered speeches on the topic of loyalty and filial piety, especially during the New Village movements, where she argued that loyalty is essential for fostering family-like relationships between employers and employees, thus mitigating the social strains of rapid industrialization. This recontextualization of Confucian principles was later expanded by President Kim Dae-jung in the 1990s, who advocated for a broader interpretation of loyalty and filial piety; rather than moral principles within traditional hierarchical structures, these could serve as values that could regulate civic relationships within modern society (Duncan 2002, pp. 451–58).

The political appropriation of Confucian discourse in Korea (in the 1970s) coincided with the nation’s intensive engagement with globalization and was reinforced by its economic development. This trajectory emerged earlier than in China (in the 2000s); nonetheless, the two cases share notable parallels when examined within their respective timelines of globalization, both reflecting how political interactions are shaped by global trends and manifesting post-Confucian social imaginaries within this process.

4.3. Religious Others in East Asian Contexts

In the preceding discussion, I addressed the crisis in temporality of the global imaginary in East Asian contexts from the perspective of secular origins, introducing the post-Confucian social imaginary. Turning to the spatial dimension, it is worth noting that the religious Others in East Asia do not generate challenges as pressing as those encountered in European societies. I begin with the following question: Why has the growth of Christianity in East Asia not provoked the same level of controversy as the presence of Islam in Europe has, which has significantly shaped deglobalization narratives in this part of the world?

In Western Europe, recent changes in the religious landscape are, by and large, a result of Muslim immigration, which has triggered defensive ethno-religious nationalism from local politics (Juergensmeyer 2019). This cause-and-effect relationship is intricate and may even be completely reversed, as Grace Davie observes, “Given the advances of secularization in much of Western Europe, being Christian—as opposed to Muslim (say)—becomes a revealing indicator in the self-definition of significant numbers of European citizens and in the political movements that respond to them” (Davie 2022, pp. 276–77). Anti-globalization populism draws in Christianity a civilizational marker, placing it within a “sacred matrix of ethnos, nation, and civilization” (Yilmaz et al. 2021)—this often independently from the faith content it carries, which simultaneously depicts Muslim immigration as “the Other” surging from another civilization and breaking in together with globalization.

In East Asia, even considered in larger temporal extensions (from the Age of Navigation onwards), the greatest impact of globalization on religions has been the growth of converts to Christianity and the changes in self-understanding that resulted from it for other religious expression. While there are historical religious conflicts that I do not intend to downplay, I will focus on the contemporary period to facilitate a more meaningful comparison with European cases. The recent decades from the 1980s to 2010s witnessed a noticeable increase in the number of Christians in China and Vietnam, as well as a flourishing of Christian churches in Korea, triggering in the latter case a missionary outreach overseas (Ross et al. 2020). However, the encounter between Christianity and East Asian societies has not produced the broad religion–ethnos–nation–civilization tensions observed in Europe. I would like to highlight two key aspects of this interaction from both perspectives.

The first one is derived from the features of East Asian Christianity. The expansion of the Christian population in East Asia has largely occurred through local conversions, avoiding being associated with immigration issues that are intensified by identity politics. Still, their increase in number affects political and cultural equilibriums. In the context of Korea, family dissensions around ancestors’ rituals testify to the fact that these disruptions are sometimes severe and painful (Hedges 2018). In China, the official policy of the “Sinicization of Christianity” has imposed restrictions on the public expressions and symbols of Christianity, such as the removal of crosses from churches in Zhejiang Province (Vermander 2019, pp. 5–8). It also emphasizes the alignment of Christian communities with traditional Chinese culture and prioritizes patriotism over religious allegiance, which can be seen as much as an effort at religious contextualization as a strategy for political domestication (Yang 2021, pp. 37–38).

Furthermore, even though Christian conversions throughout East Asia have been growing rapidly (with a plateau probably reached around the time the deglobalization discourse truly found its voice), Christianity remains a minority religion. This status of Christianity makes the topic of “harmony” (a dominant one in East Asian theology) inseparable from a stress on the benefits brought by “diversity” and “encounter”; social and religious harmony can be reached and nurtured only through wise and sensitive management of a variety of voices and resources, not through the annihilation of some of them (FABC 1996; Vermander 2017). An East Asian Christian theology is taking shape today, which can be read as an attempt to conciliate modern Christian theology as shaped by a Western secular context with one’s specific tradition, embodied in large part by rituals, wisdoms, creeds, and existential experiences found in non-Christian religions. This flexible identity also allows for “secularized” theological expressions that participate in both globalization and deglobalization discourses. A “secular theology” may emphasize its connectivity with world theologies while promoting a religious/cultural expression anchored in a specific language and way of apprehending the world (Yang and Yeuang 2006).

The second aspect results from the features of religious identities in East Asia. Religious identities in East Asian societies are characterized by hybridity, as seen in the “three teachings” tradition, rather than exclusivity typical in monotheistic religions. With the lack of one dominant institutional religion, religious practices such as visiting sacred sites, worship, and participation in rituals are not rigidly tied to a specific faith but are combined together as a rhizomatic belonging, “in which religious culture is constituted of a diverse web of practices, beliefs, superstitions, social duties, commitments, and allegiances” (Oostveen 2019). The term “cultural Christian” used in China points towards one of these, which has been evolving in time (Sun 2009).

In contrast to the pervasive influence of Christianity in Western Europe, which contributed to the formation of a rather unified religious, cultural, and political identity (despite the fact that there were persistent internal conflicts, including struggles with paganism, and, later, enduring tensions between Catholics and Protestants, as well as divisions within denominations themselves), the plurality of traditions in East Asia has created a context where social, religious, spiritual, and political life are deeply intertwined with multiple religious traditions that coexist and influence one another. Indeed, East Asian identity, while complex, is largely coherent, rooted in Confucian secular humanism (Jose Casanova 2018a), which has evolved into a modern secular identity through contemporary transformations. Still, Confucianist secularism and secularization as led by the West from the sixteenth century onwards are extremely different phenomena. Confucianist secularism was historically associated with state-sponsored religious rituals and a social ethos imbued with religiosity, whereas modern East Asian social and political life in the global era are shaped by multiple religious imaginaries, influenced by Confucian legacies.

In East Asia, as in the rest of the world, the interplay between religious and secular patterns ultimately affects the self-understanding of both categories of actors—religious communities and state-sponsored secularization agencies. The end result of the interplay certainly differs from the one presently noted in other regions of the world. Yet, in its own fashion, East Asia can be said to be both post-religious and post-secular.

5. Conclusions

In general, the coexistence of imaginaries that alternatively nurture globalization and deglobalization could be described and understood as follows: divergent visions and narratives bearing on the process and end results of the global interactions that have shaped and continue to shape the world order develop in interdependence, mutually influencing each other. Even local narratives are part of a globalized discursive nexus. A complicating factor lies in the fact that ever-changing economic and social realities blur the frontiers and strategies of the various groups (national, ethnic, cultural, and religious) that attempt to find their setting in the (de)globalization process.

Contemporary societies are still characterized by strong global interconnectivity, albeit with much less confidence in the shared global imaginary that was shaped after 1945 than was the case around two decades ago. Interrelated economic and political predicaments combined with ever-increasing cultural angst have undermined the initial promise of globalization-triggered human flourishing, thus fostering a series of epistemological and ontological crises. This is true even of East Asia, which has strongly benefited (and still benefits) from globalization while smothering out some of its cultural/religious effects, thanks to its rooting into a Confucian–secular ethos. East Asian ontologies have been as much fractured by globalization as has been the case elsewhere in the world.

By framing deglobalization within the context of crises affecting the global imaginary, this article has examined how these disruptions manifest. The secular origins of globalization, latent eschatological trend, and the way “the religious Other” is encountered determine the variations in forms and intensity taken by the deglobalization narratives from one region of the globe to another. In Western countries, deglobalization narratives are often anchored in a crisis of secular eschatology, its foundations shaken by the lingering effects of financial and industrial crises and further complicated by identity politics provoked by the perceived challenges of religious Others. In East Asia, however, the focus shifts to a re-engagement with secular origins, where cultural elements are rediscovered and reasserted against the homogenizing currents of global modernization. This phenomenon, which I characterize as the post-Confucian social imaginary, is particularly evident in the trajectories of China and Korea, offering a lens through which to understand how regional cultural frameworks adapt and respond to the forces of globalization and its unraveling.