1. Introduction
Political and educational policy makers, on the European level, are increasingly taken an interest in inter-worldview education, the goal of which is to promote understanding between people who uphold different religious and non-religious worldviews. Inter-worldview education includes both religious and non-religious voices in the classroom and engages them in a dialogical learning process. Because it is not focused solely on people who belong to a particular faith tradition and based on the assumption that everyone has a ‘worldview’, i.e., a particular way of looking at the world, inter-worldview education aspires to be more inclusive than inter-religious or inter-faith education [
1,
2]. How this will play out concretely varies from country to country and depends on the relation between Church and State, national histories and sociological developments. My own reflections are influenced by the context in which I work, the Netherlands [
3], but I assume my considerations may also give rise to thought for other European countries, that continue to be affected by Christian legacies while at the same time undergoing processes of secularization and pluralization. While a strong supporter of inter-worldview education myself—I work at a multireligious department of Religion and Theology, Vrije Universiteit Amsterdam, where I teach students with a variety of religious and non-religious backgrounds—I have my concerns about the way European policymakers frame their pleas for inter-worldview education.
My article has two parts. The first part consists of an analysis of a series of documents that have been published over the last two decades by the Council of Europe (
Section 2.1) and by the Organization for Security and Co-operation (
Section 2.2). My aim is to foreground the rationale these documents themselves give for the necessity of inter-world-view education. Whence this focus on education? Staying as close as possible to these documents themselves while also drawing on the reflections and considerations developed by European educationalist experts, like Wolfram Weisse, Gerdien Bertram-Troost and Robert Jackson, I relate the current plea for inter-worldview to the so-called ‘resurgence of religion’ and the end of the classical secularization thesis. I will show how these documents assume a binary sociological analysis (
Section 2.3), according to which our European societies are currently undergoing both processes of secularization and pluralization and (
Section 2.4) I will explain why, again according to these documents, in the face of the complexity of our secularized and pluralized society the need has arisen to invest in strong, i.e., dialogical tolerance.
In the second more critical part of this article, I make explicit my concerns about these European pleas for inter-worldview education. I develop a politico-philosophical analysis to (
Section 3.1) spell out my suspicion about the claim that the dialogical classroom is a safe space characterized by equality and neutrality. (
Section 3.2) According to me, such claims do not sufficiently reckon with the fact that inter-worldview education happens in a particular socio-political context that is marked by structural inequalities and uneven power relations between people with different worldviews. I will continue my critical analysis by showing that (
Section 3.3) the binary sociological analysis, which runs as a current thread through these European documents has an ‘equalizing effect’ and covers up the inequality between majorities and minorities. I will argue that this binary sociology, is faulty and that it needs to be amended. (
Section 3.4) Next, drawing on genealogies of religion, I surface the ideological assumptions that undergird modern Western conceptualizations of what religion is (and ought to be) and I foreground how the current European plea for inter-worldview education seems to be aimed at re-producing
good religion, understood as liberal, privatized and interiorized religion, which is distinguished from
bad religion, understood as dogmatic, ritualistic and materialistic religion. I will also spell out how this normative distinction ends up with the marginalization of those religious voices that do not fit the mold of good religion. It will not come as a surprise that Muslims especially suffer under this situation. The ‘reproduction’ of good religion is usually legitimized based on the assumption that good religion is peaceful and bad religion conflictual, an assumption that has been deeply ingrained in the European socio-political imagination since the so-called religious wars. In the final part (
Section 3.5) of this article, I argue that precisely this assumption does not stand ground in the face of historical evidence.
3. Critical Reflections on Europe’s Call for Inter-worldview Dialogue
In the second part of this article I develop several critical reflections on this call for strong tolerance, not because I do not believe in the importance of inter-worldview dialogue but because I want to reinforce the critical potential on inter-worldview learning. I am concerned that the way inter-worldview education is framed will favor students who belong to the majority at the cost of some minority students. The main criticism that I present below is that the European policy on inter-worldview dialogue views the problem of intolerance too much as an individual problem that can and must be dealt with pedagogically, without recognizing that intolerance is just as much a structural social problem. In my reading, the above-mentioned European policy documents do not discuss how the way our liberal societies are structured results in sustaining inequalities and in the marginalization of certain groups of people. At no time does these documents link inter-worldview education to the need “to examine the ideologies and structures of society critically,” and as a consequence, I think their plea for strong tolerance loses its critical and transforming potential [
18] (p. 89).
To support my argument, we first have to go back to the beginning of this article, i.e., to our binary sociological analysis. That is where, in my view, it already goes wrong. I will show that the binary sociological analysis of secularization and pluralization ignores the reality of unequal power relationships between the majority and minorities and that this has to do with, among other things, the fact that this analysis takes only two factors into account, that is secularization and pluralization. In my view, however, there is also a third factor, namely, cultural Christianity that requires our attention. I then note that political liberalism, with its pillars of religious freedom on the one hand and the neutrality of the government on the other, is assumed to be the basic condition for inter-worldview dialogue. It takes on the role of an almost invisible backdrop for dialogue. It is supposed to create a kind of neutral and thus safe space in which dialogue is made possible. Those assumptions, however, are problematic. After all, liberalism is also a worldview or ideology, with a specific concept of the human being and a specific concept of religion. In fact, the “neutral” space in which dialogue should develop is already “filled” with specific values that will lead their own lives if they are not included as a dimension in the space of encounter. More emphatically, if the liberal values are not critically examined, the call for strong tolerance runs the risk of serving intolerant discourses and practices, which silence cultural and religious minorities that differ from the liberal norm. Tolerance then becomes intolerant.
3.1. The Rhetoric of Neutrality, Equality, and Mutuality
In the European discourse on strong tolerance, the space for inter-worldview education is understood as a neutral space in which students meet each other as equals. The purpose is to learn about different worldview perspectives, to grow in mutual understanding, to cultivate tolerance, and—more ideally—the advancement of appreciation. All of this should contribute to more solidarity, inclusion, and social cohesion. Mutual tolerance, it is said, should make a modus vivendi possible that does not cover up the differences but recognizes and respects them, and thus enables an inclusive society to develop. The basic idea is that everyone has his or her own cultural and worldview identity and in that sense is an other. Thus, every student who is confronted with difference has the same task of learning more about other worldviews and to become proficient in dialogical skills.
This hymn to strong tolerance and in particular the equality and mutuality that it presupposes is not innocent, however. It obscures the reality that people who differ with respect to worldview often do not occupy an equal position in our society. In fact, not all students are other or different (or not, at least, equally so). Some students embody the norm of the dominant culture, whereas other students embody difference more. I think that the call for strong tolerance ignores or even covers up structural social inequalities. Let me foreground how this equalization works.
First, the binary sociological analysis that lies at the foundation of the European call for strong tolerance contributes to a kind of leveling of worldview differences. The reasoning goes as follows. The Church loses standing and importance wherever secularization increases. In the space that then arises, religion is transformed. A kind of tangle of worldview perspectives is made possible by processes of secularization and pluralization: there are Jews, Hindus, Muslims, Buddhists, liberals, Christians, post-Christians, atheists, adherents of a new spirituality, etc., a plurality of options that together color society. Everything that is conceivable is possible, but, in principle, not a single tradition, not a single perspective carries more weight than another.
Second, calls for strong tolerance are constantly framed in a political discourse that emphasizes the neutrality of the government as well as the individual right to religious freedom, which is a universal right. The educational task is to turn students into citizens who respect religious freedom, are tolerant when confronted with annoying differences, and become proficient in dialogical exchange. This presupposes a classroom in which no single religion is privileged and where each worldview perspective is treated equally. The teacher is supposed to embody that ideal of neutral impartiality and ensure that the safety of the classroom.
Third, inter-worldview education focuses primarily on the personal development and growth of students. The idea is that a lack of religious literacy and interaction leads to misunderstanding, intolerance, and conflicts. To promote coexistence, students need to learn to become proficient in tolerance, and that challenge awaits everyone. The problem of intolerance is basically seen as an individual problem that can be solved by a combination of knowledge and inter-worldview dialogue.
3.2. The Inequality of Dialogue
What this plea for strong tolerance obscures, in my view, is the fact that the school, the class, the teacher, and the students are already part of a sociopolitical constellation that is permeated with inequality, an equality that has to do with the dynamics or, better, the power imbalance between the majority and minorities. To the degree that the space for dialogue is a reflection of society, it is already characterized by its current values, norms, customs, and structures that are unique to the majority culture and in any case privilege it. In addition, the majority culture has the ability to make itself
invisible and thus to not be recognized as a specific culture that is subject to discussion [
19]. It represents the norm that is not questioned and the background against which other cultures, worldviews, and religions are presented as other. In reality, however, against this background, not everyone in the class is equally other and different, just as not everyone in society is. There are gradations of otherness and the degree of otherness is measured against the norm of the majority culture in particular. If this is not thematized as an essential part of the inter-worldview learning process, calls for strong tolerance—however nice they sound—can assume problematic, even subtly oppressive, forms.
To undergird this criticism, I propose a correction to the binary sociological analysis that constitutes the framework for the recent (European) political interest in religion and inter-worldview education. I argue that cultural Christianity should constitute a third factor, over against and in addition to secularization and pluralization. I thus do not assume a binary but a ternary or threefold sociological analysis of European societies [
20]. While my subsequent reflections are influenced by the context where I work, the Netherlands, I assume they may also give rise to thought for other European countries, that continue to be affected by Christian legacies while at the same time undergoing processes of secularization and pluralization.
3.3. From a Binary to a Ternary Analysis: Cultural Christianity
According to the classical view of secularization, the separation of church and state made all citizens equal in the public domain, an equality that is safeguarded by the neutrality of the government. Processes of secularization have, without a doubt, weakened the sociopolitical position of Christianity, nevertheless, I think it would be wrong to conclude that, now that Christianity has lost its position of prominence, that it finds itself on an equal footing with other religious, spiritual, and areligious phenomena [
21]. I agree with Marjolein van den Brink that:
“[t]he public sphere, although often understood as ‘neutral’ or ‘secular’ is not that neutral at all.… [N]ot so very long ago, most people in Western European countries adhered to some form of Christianity. Logically, custom, organizational structures and other practices were built upon and adapted to the demands of the most dominant of these convictions. Even though many people have since turned ‘secular’, that is are no longer actively living according to the demands of their faith and maybe non longer religious at all, the weekly days off are still organized so as to accommodate the biblical day of rest”.
That privileged position is not acknowledged by those who have born and raised in Europe and thus remains under the radar when the neutrality of the public space and the government is discussed [
15] (p. 214). In the classroom too, students who belong to the majority have certain privileges that students who belong to a religious minority are not given [
22]. Those privileges can take on different forms, but they are definitely connected with a kind of normalization of cultural Christianity as part of sociopolitical life.
What privileges am I talking about here? First of all, it may be expected that the teachers will overwhelmingly come from the majority group and have been formed by cultural Christianity; that the academic year will follow the Christian calendar; that the literature that will be studied will often have a Western-Christian perspective (this is certainly so in the area of inter-worldview learning where academic literature is produced primarily by Christian theologians and religious educators); that it is obvious that the campus is set up and decorated in line with (cultural) Christian feasts (Santa Claus, Father Christmas, a Christmas tree, Easter eggs, etc.); and that students who are perceived as belonging to the majority will seldom be questioned about the why of their worldview identity. Christian privileges are usually
not seen but simply assumed by those who enjoy them. They are invisible. “As with any form of privilege, the very invisibility to those who enjoy it makes the environment seem natural—just as a fish has no idea anything else exists besides water because it has never had to think about any other possibilities” [
23] (p. 46). Furthermore, it is quite likely that the student population itself will also be a reflection of the societal majority-minority ratio, with proportionally more (cultural) Christians than
non-Christians, and the teacher also often embodies and represents the majority culture. This also means that minorities (Buddhists, Hindus, Muslims, and Jews) often do not recognize themselves in what are compulsory subjects, have to ask permission to be absent from classes when they, for instance, have to say their prayers (and perhaps have to explain why that is important), have few role models, and, have to daily experience the numerous manifestations of cultural Christianity. They are much more often asked about their particular worldview identity and they are often expected to
represent their tradition. While learning about (cultural) Christianity is often a question of daily survival/living for them, that is not the case for (cultural) Christians learning about other worldviews [
24].
Viewing tolerance as a virtue that every individual has to cultivate in an equal and reciprocal way ignores this sociopolitical constellation. Of course, the world would be a better place if everybody got to the point where they stopped to think before speaking and bore with clenched teeth certain worldview expressions that are considered untrue, nonsensical, or even foolish. If, however, (post)Christian privileges are not acknowledged, thematized, and problematized, the inter-worldview dialogue itself can be subtly oppressive. Strong tolerance, in fact, plays too much to the advantage of the majority culture and thus to the disadvantage of religious and cultural minorities. As Riitaoja and Poulter state: “While minorities encounter the majority’s viewpoint on a daily basis, the majority group is not always aware or appreciative of minority points of view. When trying to explain their experiences, minorities are subordinate and thus forced to use a language that is ‘foreign’ to their worldview. Inequality of different perspectives is therefore unavoidable” [
19] (p. 91). To overcome or at least recognize this situation of inequality, the unmasking of privileges should therefore be part of inter-worldview education [
15] (p. 214).
3.4. Political Liberalism and the Distinction between Good and Bad Religion
If we look at the dominant culture, yet another tradition needs to be taken into account, i.e., political liberalism itself, in particular the ideological presuppositions about religion it entails.
The heart of the modern liberal society is the individual, and not the government, Church, or the clan one belongs to. The individual is viewed as rational and autonomous, and, as rational and autonomous beings, people have the freedom and the right to map out their own lives. They can freely choose which faith they will follow and can live their lives as they please. Thus, they do not, like their (premodern) ancestors, have to follow paths that were preset for them, without their own choice and knowledge. As stated above, the government is not to say anything about how people give shape to their lives; it should remain neutral.
Liberalism is bound up inseparably with the Enlightenment tradition, which presents itself as liberation from the straitjacket that traditions can be. At bottom, it emits a distrust of tradition, heteronomy, and collectivity. Tradition contains the risk of restraint and limitation within itself, and that is precisely what liberalism wants to liberate the individual from. This also needs to be seen against the background of the religious wars that plagued Europe in the 16th–17th centuries, which made the potential for conflict in authoritative (religious) traditions painfully clear. These wars shook trust in religious convictions and authorities and anchored the idea that religion is dangerous deep in the collective European memory [
13] (p. 727). The way to transcend this impasse was the emancipation from the religious powers and increasing independence of the various social domains. That is why secularization, viewed as a decrease in the social importance of religion, is often interpreted as a sign of emancipation, “that is, as a quasi-normative consequence of being a ‘modern’ and ‘enlightened’ European” [
25] (p. 191). Although religion and religious commitments are, as such, not irreconcilable with liberal thinking, there does seem to be an (implicit) distinction between good religion and bad religion, a distinction that, by the way, has also found its way into academia [
26] Good religion is rooted in autonomy, which means that the person in question is driven by considerations that come from within and by choices that he or she makes in complete freedom. A religious commitment must be self-chosen. Viewed in that way, religion is authentic. It agrees, of course, with the liberal value of equality and strives for as democratic an organizational structure as possible. Religious hierarchies, ritual demarcations, and certain exclusion mechanisms are problematic, certainly if they are related to gender, for example. Good religion is moreover is modest, as not too prominently present in the public space, and not too visible nor audible. Good religion keeps to the private sphere and is inwardly oriented. It has no need for frills or show and views all those externalities as historical-culturally determined and thus relative. It does not lose itself in this kind of detail but enables its adherents to focus on what is ultimately important; which cannot be captured in human images. It is striking that this good religion fits precisely into the profile of modern Protestant religion—the believer is turned inwards, focuses on his or her personal relation with the ultimate, emphasizes much more the individual search than the collective community, takes a critical reflective attitude toward authority and minimizes the external, i.e., the visible, tangible, edible, etc. aspects of religion.
Bad religion is associated with heteronomy instead of autonomy, with the collectivity of the community instead of with individuality, with prescribed traditional patterns instead of a path one has marked out of oneself, etc. Bad religion is visible, audible, smellable—it is not shy but draws all attention to itself. It is anything but modest and focuses too much on outward show. To put it even more strongly, attachment to visible and tangible religious particularities are associated with immaturity, premodernity, irrationality—in short, with unenlightened religion. Most European societies are permeated by these liberal ideas and consciously—but often unconsciously as well—the message is that more traditional ways of life are not modern, potentially oppressive, not emancipated, and they also run the risk of fundamentalism and fanaticism and thus of inter-worldview conflicts. With a view to the social cohesion of society (and its security!), it is reasoned, this bad form of religion must be domesticated.
This liberal oriented concept of religion, and primarily the normative distinction between good and bad religion is deeply embedded in the majority culture. In the spring of 2018, the news media are talking of a right-wing wave moving across Europe. This shift to the right is not limited to specific populist parties that are said to be openly racist but is also found in centrist parties, and, strikingly, certain themes from right-wing discourse are also found in some traditionally left-wing traditions. The notion has arisen that ‘our’ values and norms are under pressure and need to be protected and defended, and action needs to be taken. Thus, as is also the case in Belgium and the Netherlands (the two countries where I live and work), more and more voices are claiming that everything associated with a view that is based on being less free (i.e., less tolerant) cannot and may not be tolerated. The liberal society that is based on the virtue of tolerance needs to be defended against intolerance. According to political philosopher De Wit:
“During the last few decades we in Europe have indeed become accustomed to regard religion and religious identity as the inalienable private choice and self-creation of the individual; even institutional religion’s traditional frameworks - such as churches and the passing down of doctrine—we now quickly tend to associate with the curtailment of freedom and intolerance”.
The concept of ‘tolerant’ clusters in this discourse with
liberal, free thought, open, autonomous, rational, progressive, whereas ‘intolerant’ is associated with
illiberal, closed, heteronomous, irrational, conservative. None of that can be tolerated if the liberal society is to be saved. Just as the political philosopher Wendy Brown states: “Defined against the unfree, intolerant peoples who menace us, a tolerant citizenry is a virtuous and free citizenry; and it is precisely this virtue and freedom that licences the violation of principles of tolerance and freedom in the name of security” [
28] (p. 103).
If this normative distinction between good and bad religion is not problematized as being part of a particular liberal ideology, the danger arises that it can, without being explicitly examined, become an implicit educational ideal in whose light students are judged. As educators, we then risk contributing to the reproduction of the normative distinction between good and bad religion and the marginalization of those students who do not find themselves on what is implicitly or explicitly represented as the right side of the line. Atheists, Catholics, and Jews were also excluded from tolerance in the past because their beliefs and practices fell outside differences that could be tolerated, whereas today it is primarily Islam in Europe that is being targeted. The dividing line between tolerance and intolerance becomes very thin.
3.5. Strong Tolerance and Religiously Inspired Violence
The power of attraction and persuasion that the call for strong tolerance still retains needs, in my view, to be sought in the presupposed connection between religion and violence and the belief that education can heal religion (or, better, believers) of its/their potential for violence. Certainly, ‘9/11’ and the more recent terrorist attacks in Europe and elsewhere in the world have once again reinforced the image of religion as the main cause of violence. In the documents published by the CoE and OSCE too, pleas for strong tolerance refer time and again to these devastating events.
As mentioned before the idea that religion is an ambiguous phenomenon stems from the so-called religious wars. ‘9/11’ has basically reawakened this idea and the related political conviction that religion needs to be domesticated, now by means of active tolerance. Recent historical research points out, however, that this view is too simplistic and that the religious wars of that time cannot be reduced to a
religious conflict between Protestants and Catholics. Religion certainly did play a role in this conflict, but the idea that Protestants and Catholics killed each other purely for doctrinal issues is a myth that legitimates certain political choices, such as the privatization of religion, and also leads to a continuing imputation of religion in general and a political-pedagogical case for the domestication of religion. This is a point that both William Cavanaugh [
29] and Karen Armstrong [
30] make. Armstrong points out that “while there is no doubt that the participants certainly experienced these wars as a life-and-death religious struggle, this was also a conflict between two sets of state-builders: the princes of Germany and the other kings of Europe were battling against the Holy Roman Emperor, Charles V, and his ambition to establish a trans-European hegemony modelled after the Ottoman empire” [
30]. If these so-called “religious wars” only concerned intra-confessional differences, then Protestants and Catholics would have been in completely different camps. However, that was not the case. Alliances changed as certain territorial or economic or political interests changed, and “Catholic France … fought the Catholic Habsburgs, who were regularly supported by some of the Protestant princes.” During these wars, “combatants crossed confessional lines so often that it was impossible to talk about solidly “Catholic” or “Protestant” populations” [
30]. In his book
The Myth of Religious Violence, William Cavanaugh also criticized the obviousness with which it is stated that religion leads to violence. He argues that it not that obvious at all “to separate a category called religion with a peculiar tendency toward violence from a putatively secular reality that is less prone to violence” [
29] (p. 54).
Furthermore, the idea that religion leads to violence implies an opposition between religious and secular ideologies, whereby the latter are led by rationality and only resort to violence when it is justified and calculated. This view focuses attention in a one-sided way on religion as the problem and shoves secularization (and the privatization of religion) to the foreground as the solution to the problem. If all religions conform to the model of the individualized, privatized, and depoliticized modern form of religion, then there would be no more violence. It is forgotten that people have committed the greatest atrocities—one could think here of Nazism, Communism, capitalism, as well as on the way in which the political model of modern secularism in some countries is imported with violence and imposed with subsequent explosions of reactionary violence.
In addition, when religion is used as a scapegoat, other factors that also contribute to violent conflicts are ignored. People do not become entangled in violence because of only one thing; there is usually a complex nexus of factors that lead to violence, and religious disagreements are only one of those factors. Even when people or certain groups give their violence a religious framework themselves, a wider context needs to be sought. Going beyond abstract discussions on religion and violence, one of the tasks of inter-worldview education is, in my view, to look at very concrete cases and, using a complex analysis, to investigate what factors play a role in the outbreak of violent conflicts. Here I am also thinking particularly of socioeconomic and political factors. In this analysis of concrete conflicts—local or global—the question also needs to be asked as to who benefits from a certain social conflict being framed in terms of religion instead of, for example, those of economic inequality, discrimination, geopolitical power relationships, etc., and asking what other strategies there are to extinguish these or any conflicts and what role religion and dialogue can play in this.
4. Conclusions
At first glance, the turn to religion on a European level seems to be a development that interreligious educators, like myself, can only celebrate. If religion received hardly any attention for years, and certainly not in combination with education, that seems now to have changed. Religion, or more broadly, worldview, is back on stage, and it is not only acknowledged to be an important cultural factor in European society but is also being given an important place in the education of young people. The fact that strong tolerance or inter-worldview dialogue are now being seriously promoted should be like music to the ears of interreligious educators. Nevertheless, I think there are good reasons to exercise caution with respect to the European call for education in tolerance.
European policy bodies seem to see education primarily as a vehicle to counter the problem of misunderstanding, prejudice, and lack of appreciation, to teach students the value of tolerance, and thus also to safeguard the basic principles of liberal democracy. In that way, contributions can be made to the realization of an inclusive society where everyone is not only welcome but also recognized as an equal, regardless of his or her background, and exclusion on the basis of belief is not tolerated [
31] (p. 269), [
32] (p. 48).
European policy makers are right to focus on the function of education in passing on the shared norms, values, and structures on which liberal democratic society is based. My concern is that the socializing role of education will overshadow its critical potential. The final product of education in general and of inter-worldview education in particular is, in my view, not to socialize students but to teach them to engage in hermeneutical reflection and to ask critical questions of certain prevailing social presuppositions and power relationships. Only then can education realize its transforming potential and not simply reinforce the social status quo. However, until now I have not seen this critical function of inter-worldview learning treated in the European documents. That has to do with the fact that there is very little meta-reflection in these documents on the deeper ideological presuppositions that give direction to the call for strong tolerance. I have argued that calls for inter-worldview education cannot be seen apart from a broader sociopolitical context in which they function and gain traction. That wider context is not value-free or neutral but is already characterized by specific, often implicit age-old habits of mind concerning the nature of religion, the relation of religion to violence, and the place of religion in secular society as well as the distinction between good and bad religion. If these deeply rooted habits of mind remains unexamined, the risk arises that dialogical education will not make good on its liberating and transforming potential and that certain inequalities will remain.