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"Rapture politics"

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BrianHawkins1

Guest
"Rapture politics"

"Rapture politics"


by HENRY A. GIROUX ( en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Henry_Giroux , www.henryagiroux.com/ )
SPECIAL TO THE STAR
July 24, 2005

www.thestar.com/NASApp/cs...alogin=yes


Unique among nations, America recognized the source of our character as being godly and eternal, not being civic and temporal. And because we have understood that our source is eternal, America has been different. We have no king but Jesus.

— John Ashcroft, former U.S. attorney general



Since the re-election of George W. Bush last November, religious fundamentalists have been in overdrive in their effort to define American politics through a reductive and fanatical moralism.

This kind of religious zealotry has a long tradition in American history, extending from the arrival of Puritanism in the 17th century to the current spread of Pentecostalism. This often ignored history, imbued with theocratic certainty and absolute moralism, has been powerful in providing religious justification to the likes of the Ku Klux Klan, the parlance of the Robber Barons, the patriarchal discourse of "family values," the National Association of Evangelicals' declared war on "the bias of aggressive secularism," and the current attack on a judiciary that is allegedly waging war on people of faith.

But American religious fundamentalism in its most recent incarnation extends far beyond the parameters of extremist sects or the isolated comments of radical Christian politicians, evangelical leaders and pundits; it is now operative in the highest reaches of government and "more radical and far-reaching than in the past," according to the conservative commentator Andrew Sullivan.

The fundamentalist tendencies of President Bush are now commonplace and can be seen in his official recognition of "Jesus Day" while governor of Texas, his ongoing faith-based initiatives and his endless use of religious references and imagery in his speeches.

Further evidence of an American theocracy is reflected in commentary by a host of powerful politicians, judges and religious leaders. They include Supreme Court Justice Antonin Scalia, whose pronouncements against the separation of church and state are well known; former attorney general John Ashcroft, who held regular prayer meetings and covered up the bare-breasted statue of justice; and Tom DeLay, the House Majority leader, who once claimed that, "Our entire system is built on the Judeo-Christian ethic, but it fell apart when we started denying God. If you stand up today and acknowledge God, they will try to destroy you... My mission is to bring us back to the Constitution and to Absolute Truth that has been manipulated and destroyed by a liberal world view."

In Colorado Springs, Colo., Christian cadets, with the support of faculty at the U.S. Air Force Academy, have put pressure on "peers who believe differently, or who do not believe. Jewish cadets, in particular, have been targeted, charged with the murder of Christ," reports the Boston Globe.

Another example is James Dobson, founder and chairman of Focus on the Family and one of the most right-wing evangelicals in America. He is heard on radio in 99 countries and "his estimated listening audience is more than 200 million worldwide," according to an article in The Atlantic.

"Dobson likens the proponents of gay marriage to the Nazis, has backed political candidates who called for the execution of abortion providers, defines embryonic stem-cell research as `state-funded cannibalism,' and urges Christian parents to pull their children out of public school systems," reported Chris Hedges, the author of the Atlantic article. "He has issued warnings to the Bush Administration that his extremist agenda must begin to be implemented in Washington and by the federal courts if the Republican Party wants his continued support."

The similar use of fear and intimidation by the Bush administration panders to the religious right just as it transforms dissent into a threat and wields power in a manner consistent with "not only the character of the deity portrayed in the Old Testament but also with the modus operandi of the Corleone and Gambino crime families," writes Lewis Lapham, the editor of Harper's magazine. "Family values" is now joined with an emotionally charged appeal to faith as the new code words for cultural conservatism.

Giddy with power and a new-found legitimacy in American politics, these moral apparatchiks believe that Satan's influence shapes everything from the liberal media to "how Barbra Streisand was taught to sing," according to Lapham.

As the journalist Bill Moyers has written, this is "Rapture politics," in which the Bible is read as literally true, dissent is a mark of the anti-Christ and "sinners will be condemned to eternal hellfire." As right-wing religion conjoins with conservative political ideology and corporate power, it not only legitimates intolerance and anti-democratic forms of religious correctness, it also lays the groundwork for a growing authoritarianism that easily derides appeals to reason, dissent, dialogue and secular humanism. How else to explain the growing number of Christian conservative educators who want to impose the teaching of creationism in the schools, ban sex education from curricula and subordinate scientific facts to religious dogma?

The rise of the religious zealot as politician is readily apparent not only in high-profile religious hucksters such as former attorney general John Ashcroft, Senator Rick Santorum, and the current occupant of the White House, but also in the emergence of a new group of faith-bearing politicians elected to the Senate — the "opportunistic ayatollahs on the right," as Frank Rich of The New York Times called them.

For instance, the newly elected senator from Oklahoma, Tom Coburn, has not only publicly argued for the death penalty for doctors who perform abortions, he has also insisted that lesbianism is so rampart in the schools in Oklahoma that officials let only one girl go to the bathroom at a time.

Jim DeMint, the new senator from South Carolina, stated he would not want to see "a single woman who was pregnant and living with her boyfriend" teaching in the public schools. He also wants to ban gays from teaching in public schools.

John Thune, the newly elected senator from South Dakota, supports a constitutional amendment banning flag burning.

Many right-wing Christian movements and politicians are planning strategies designed to strip federal judges of their ability to hear cases involving the separation of church and state. For instance, Republican Rep. John Hostettler of Indiana plans to introduce a bill in Congress "that would deny federal courts the right to hear cases challenging the Defence of Marriage Act, which bans same-sex marriage."

According to Hostettler, "When the courts make unconstitutional decisions, we should not enforce them. Federal courts have no army or navy. The court can opine, decide, talk about, sing, whatever it wants to do. We're not saying they can't do that. At the end of the day, we're saying the court can't enforce its opinions."

Needless to say, with the retirement of Sandra Day O'Connor and the anticipated departure of Chief Justice Rehnquist from the Supreme Court, evangelical Christians are aggressively mobilizing in their efforts to pressure President Bush to appoint right-wing justices who will push their conservative moral agenda, including banning same-sex marriages and abortion rights.

Jerry Falwell, the founder of the Moral Majority, bluntly expressed earlier this month how important the upcoming fight over this judicial appointment is for evangelical Christians: "This is do or die."

Bush's nominee, announced last Tuesday, is John Roberts Jr., described as a "solidly conservative" appeals-court judge who as a lawyer co-wrote a brief calling on the Supreme Court to overturn the 1973 Roe v. Wade ruling that legalized abortion in the United States.

At age 50, Roberts will serve for years on the Supreme Court if his nomination is confirmed.

Many religious extremists, such as Dobson, view such an appointment not only as ground zero for every other issue on the conservative agenda, but also as political payback for allegedly delivering the 2004 election to Bush.

There is every reason to believe that the Falwells and Dobsons of the world will get their way with these nominations; if that happens, their brand of religious zealotry will be influencing judicial policy long after such fanatics have passed from the American religious and political landscape.

Such opportunism is more than a call by Christian social conservatives and "power puritans," as New York Times columnist Maureen Dowd calls them, to appoint conservative judges, prevent homosexuals from securing jobs as teachers, dismantle the power of the federal judiciary and approve legislation that would stop stem-cell research and eliminate the reproductive rights of women. It is an example of the "bloodthirsty feelings of revenge" that motivate many of Bush's religious boosters.

The dogmatic allegiance, if not call for vengeance, that drives many of Bush's Christian fundamentalist supporters is apparent every day on many of the 1,600 Christian radio and TV broadcasts that reach as many as 140 million people.

The message that unites these broadcasters is that America is destined to become a Christian nation, and for that to happen Christian fundamentalists of various doctrinal stripes will have to unite to take control of secular society.

Chris Hedges, writing in The Atlantic, paints a very disturbing picture of some of the ideological elements that hold together a curious mix of fundamentalists who are part of a large movement known as Dominionism.

"Dominionists preach that Jesus has called them to build the kingdom of God in the here and now, whereas previously it was thought that we would have to wait for it. America becomes, in this militant biblicism, an agent of God, and all political and intellectual opponents of America's Christian leaders are viewed, quite simply, as agents of Satan.

"Under Christian dominion, America will no longer be a sinful and fallen nation but one in which the Ten Commandments form the basis of our legal system, Creationism and `Christian values' form the basis of our educational system, and the media and the government proclaim the Good News to one and all."

The merging of religion and dominant politics echoes Nobel Prize winner Wole Soyinka's claim that religion has become the central problem of the 21st century. According to Soyinka, "It is not so much religion itself but what religion has turned into, the use to which religion is being put, which is a highly political, sectarian one. In other words, religion is being taken over by fundamentalist extremism — and that's the problem."

The United States' turn to religion as a central element of politics suggests some important considerations that need to be addressed by those who believe in the separation of church and state.

First, there is a growing need to address the search for community through social formations, values and movements that bring people together through the discourse of public morality, civic engagement and the ethical imperatives of democracy. This is not just a matter of rediscovering America's secular roots but also of creating a cultural politics in which the language of community, shared values, solidarity and the common good plays an important pedagogical and political role in the struggle for an inclusive and democratic society.

This means developing a language of critique in which the rabid individualism of neoliberal market ideology can be unmasked for its anti-democratic and utterly privatizing tendencies.

It means rooting out all those fundamentalisms so prevalent in American society, including those market, political, religious and militaristic fundamentalisms that now exercise such a powerful influence over all aspects of American society.

What is crucial to understand is that fundamentalism cannot simply be dismissed as anti-democratic or evil. As the welfare state declines, many right-leaning Christian churches offer not only eternal salvation but also material assistance in the form of day care, low-priced dinners for poor families, psychological help for the abused and a ministry for inner-city at-risk youth.

As social services are privatized, the churches are one of the few public spheres left where people can form a semblance of community, network, find soup kitchens and become part of a support group.

Fundamentalism performs a certain kind of work that taps into real individual and collective needs. Unfortunately, these faith-based groups provide people not only with a sense of identity in a time of crisis, but they also offer a sense of public efficacy; that is, they furnish the promise of social agency in which individuals can exercise solidarity through a sense of meaning and action in their lives.

Furthermore, in a world in which the state has abandoned its welfare-bearing role, a global social order has emerged that lacks both a sense of moral purpose and a meaningful sense of the future. The future has now become the enemy, as short-term gains become the only viable language of the market.

Collective security from poverty, illness, old age, unemployment and the loss of the most basic social provisions such as health care and a decent education have been replaced by market forces that view misfortune with disdain and welfare institutions as a poisonous reminder of Marxist orthodoxy. Deregulation, fragmentation, privatization, rabid individualism, uncertainty and outsourcing are now the order of the day, and one consequence is a world that increasingly appears inhospitable, insecure and unnerving.
(These ideas are drawn from Zygmunt Bauman's Identity.)

As long as politics fails to provide a sense of meaning, purpose and dignity to people's lives, religious fundamentalists will step in and take up this task. As long as neoliberal capitalism rules the global social order and the future no longer provides a referent for addressing matters of social justice inspired by a discourse of hope, fundamentalisms of all stripes will flourish in the United States and elsewhere around the globe.

If democratic politics and secular humanism are worth fighting for, educators, concerned citizens and parents need more than a language of critique, they need a language of possibility.

Such a discourse should both challenge the anti-democratic values claimed by the right and offer up a notion of moral values in which "care and responsibility, fairness and equality, freedom and courage, fulfilment in life, opportunity and community, cooperation and trust, honesty and openness" are wedded to the principles of justice, equality, and freedom, as George Lakoff wrote in The Nation last December.

The writer Barbara Ehrenreich is right on target in arguing that progressives need to "articulate poverty and war as the urgent moral issues they are. Jesus is on our side here, and secular liberals should not be afraid to invoke him. Policies of pre-emptive war and the upward redistribution of wealth are inversions of the Judeo-Christian ethic. At the very least, we need a firm commitment to public forms of childcare, health care, housing and education — for people of all faiths and no faith at all."

As well, identity must be experienced beyond the atomizing call of market forces.

For identity to become meaningful in a democratic society, it must be nourished through a connection to others, a respect for social justice, and a recognition of the need to work with others to experience both a sense of collective joy and a measure of social responsibility.

There is a need for educators, artists, parents and activists to not only defend democratic public spheres but to develop alternative ones where the language and practice of democratic community, public values, civic engagement, and social justice can be taught, learned and experienced.

Public and higher education not only offer a space where dialogue and the expansion of the intellect can be encouraged, but also prepare students as critical agents capable of making good on the promise of a substantive and inclusive democracy.

At the same time, democracy needs to be supported and nourished across a wide range of overlapping sites — from film, television, and the Internet to talk radio — that engage in diverse forms of public pedagogy.

Authoritarianism takes many forms; its most recent expression in the merging of politics and religion appears to be gaining ground through the relentless force of a moral-values crusade in the U.S. and abroad. Not only are the basic principles of reason and freedom being undermined, but the very idea of democracy is under assault.

The war against reason, secular humanism and democratic values is being fought intensively on the cultural front — in the media, schools, churches and other sites of pubic pedagogy. What is at stake here is the challenge of rethinking the very meaning of politics and democracy for the 21st century.
 
Oh dear. The road the USA seems to be taking seems like a tale out of some alternate history fiction. The idea of living next to a heavily armed, rabidly fundamentalist theocracy is more than a little disconcerting.

Do you think there is much chance of the evangelical christian right seizing control in Canada?
 
Until the US gets its act together, I plan on doing my vacationing elsewhere.
 
Brian: Very enjoyable post. You seem to have an interest in the subject of religous fundamentalism in the states so if you can recommend any books on the subject (not tinfoilly hat books either but intelligent readings that leave right or left wing opinion behind). If you had any suggestions it would be much appreciated.

Ganjavih: For a while too I had this notion of not wanting to invlove myself with the US and would have flat out sad no to the idea of visiting. One thing I have come to realize though is that while this movement is somewhat scary and should be a cause for alarm, it is not something that should prevent one from visiting there. The extreme fundamentalists still a small minority and if you read and or listen to non mainstream (or elite if you will) media you get a very strong sense that most people are not on this same page. There still seem, at least from my own anecdotal observations and discussions with Americans, a majority who think no different than most Canadians and have the same fundamental desires about what society should be like as we do. In fact a trip to the States by more Canadians could be a good thing if while there maybe we can engage them in some conversation and bring a different perspective on society today. The reverse is true in the respect that some Canadians really need to actually sit down and talk to Americans and understand that a lot of the anti-american setiment that I see today (which does disturb me a lot) is totally unfounded and misguided.
 
I agree with most of what you say, Antiloop.

I'll still jump at the opportunity to go to the Pacific Coast, New England, or New York City again - they seem to represent what I like about the US (the wacko California politics notwithstanding). It's that the rural and southern areas that have gotten a lot of clout lately, driving the fundamentalist surge, though on a personal level, most Americans are alright.

I wouldn't stop visiting the US yet, but I do fear what is going on down there. I really wonder how the Northeast and the West Coast will fare in the next decade.
 
I haven't made it a hard and fast rule not to visit the US but the balance has tipped towards non-US travelling... especially after I saw how pleasant UK immigration was even after the London bombings... and just in general how impressively the British handled the whole thing. Myself and my friends and family I was travelling with were very impressed and imagined what things would have been like if we were in America during a terrorist attack. Add this to the wacko politics of the US and the thought of your money ending up in the White House and eventually you say 'f*ck it, I'll shell out the extra bucks and visit London instead of New York.'

Quick example: after the London bombings, random bag searches at New York subways and life going on as usual with the Tube.

I'm quite aware there plenty of reasonable people in the US... I know many Americans and have been all over the US... but it just ain't fun going there anymore. Remember that Sunday Times article about choosing Toronto as a travel destination if you're getting tired of unwelcoming and paranoid America?
 
There are plenty of reasonable and intelligent people in the US... unfortunately I am worried that they might be using their skills primarily in areas other than politics and government administration and might be voting for tax cuts since their school debt, home mortgage, and other financial issues are at the top of their mind. When security policies are made in the US they don't seem to represent well thought out strategy... they seem more reactionary and barely thought out at all.

I hope there isn't another attack obviously, but if there is one I would love to see the reaction to a threat of explosive underpants or a car bomb on an freeway. The 9/11 airliners led to fighter jets flying around waiting to shoot aircraft down, a shoe bomber led to taking off shoes and putting them through the x-ray machine, and now a subway bomb leads to bag searches on the subways. In London they are focused on the investigation treating terrorists like criminals and figuring out what drives the ideals of these people and allows them to be converted, in the US they focus on building Fort Knox to prevent attacks exactly like the ones already employed, but fail to realize that the number of ways to carry out an attack are near unlimited.

We need to focus on tools to solve crimes and determine their contacts and where the ideas are being put into their minds. I think improving security cameras in the TTC is a great idea... not because it stops crime from happening, but because it helps solve crime after it does. The solution to dealing with terrorism is the same solution to dealing with gangs.
 
Somewhat related, and with a much different perspective on American Chrisitanity, the author of this article believes that liberal northern Christians battling against the forces of conservative southern christians, will cause a schism within "the Christian church". Karen Armstrong's The Battle for God is a supposedly a good book, I haven't read it.

The Next Christianity PHILIP JENKINS

In looking back over the enormous changes wrought by the twentieth century, Western observers may have missed the most dramatic revolution of all. While secular movements like communism, feminism, and environmentalism have gotten the lion's share of our attention, the explosive southward expansion of Christianity in Africa, Asia, and Latin America has barely registered on Western consciousness. Nor has the globalization of Christianity — and the enormous religious, political, and social consequences it portends — been properly understood.

Ever since the sexual-abuse crisis erupted in the U.S. Roman Catholic Church in the mid-1980s, with allegations of child molestation by priests, commentators have regularly compared the problems faced by the Church to those it faced in Europe at the start of the sixteenth century, on the eve of the Protestant Reformation — problems that included sexual laxity and financial malfeasance among the clergy, and clerical contempt for the interests of the laity. Calls for change have become increasingly urgent since January, when revelations of widespread sexual misconduct and grossly negligent responses to it emerged prominently in the Boston archdiocese. Similar, if less dramatic, problems have been brought to light in New Orleans, Providence, Palm Beach, Omaha, and many other dioceses. The reform agendas now under discussion within the U.S. hierarchy involve ideas about increased lay participation in governance — ideas of the sort heard when Martin Luther confronted the Roman Catholic orthodoxy of his day. They also include such ideas as admitting women to the priesthood and permitting priests to marry.

Explicit analogies to the Reformation have become commonplace not only among commentators but also among anticlerical activists, among victims' groups, and, significantly, among ordinary lay believers. One representative expert on sexual misconduct, much quoted, is Richard Sipe, a former monk who worked at the sexual-disorders clinic at Johns Hopkins University and is now a psychotherapist based in California. Over the years Sipe has spoken regularly of "a new Reformation." "We are at 1515," he has written, "between when Martin Luther went to Rome in 1510 and 1517 when he nailed his 95 theses on the door in Wittenberg." That act can reasonably be seen as the symbolic starting point of the Reformation, when a united Christendom was rent asunder.

Historians continue to debate the causes and consequences of the Reformation, and of the forces that it unleashed. Among other things, the Reformation broke the fetters that constrained certain aspects of intellectual life during the Middle Ages. Protestants, of course, honor the event as the source of their distinctive religious traditions; many Protestant denominations celebrate Reformation Day, at the end of October, commemorating the posting of the theses at Wittenberg. And liberal Catholics invoke the word these days to emphasize the urgency of reform — changes both broad and specific that they demand from the Church. Their view is that the crisis, which exposes fault lines of both sexuality and power, is the most serious the Church has faced in 500 years — as serious as the one it faced in Luther's time.

The first Reformation was an epochal moment in the history of the Western world — and eventually, by extension, of the rest of the world. The status quo in religious affairs was brought to an end. Relations between religions and governments, not to mention among different denominations, took a variety of forms — sometimes symbiotic, often chaotic and violent. The transformations wrought in the human psyche by the Reformation, and by the Counter-Reformation it helped to provoke, continue to play themselves out. This complex historical episode, which is now often referred to simply as "the Reformation," touched everything. It altered not just the practice of religion but also the nature of society, economics, politics, education, and the law.

Commentators today, when speaking of the changes needed in the Catholic Church, generally do not have in mind the sweeping historical aftermath of the first Reformation — but they should. The Church has developed a fissure whose size most people do not fully appreciate. The steps that liberal Catholics would take to resolve some of the Church's urgent issues, steps that might quell unease or revolt in some places, would prove incendiary in others. The problem with reform, 500 years ago or today, is that people disagree — sometimes violently — on the direction it should take.

The fact is, we are at a moment as epochal as the Reformation itself — a Reformation moment not only for Catholics but for the entire Christian world. Christianity as a whole is both growing and mutating in ways that observers in the West tend not to see. For obvious reasons, news reports today are filled with material about the influence of a resurgent and sometimes angry Islam. But in its variety and vitality, in its global reach, in its association with the world's fastest-growing societies, in its shifting centers of gravity, in the way its values and practices vary from place to place — in these and other ways it is Christianity that will leave the deepest mark on the twenty-first century. The process will not necessarily be a peaceful one, and only the foolish would venture anything beyond the broadest predictions about the religious picture a century or two ahead. But the twenty-first century will almost certainly be regarded by future historians as a century in which religion replaced ideology as the prime animating and destructive force in human affairs, guiding attitudes to political liberty and obligation, concepts of nationhood, and, of course, conflicts and wars.

The original Reformation was far more than the rising up of irate lay people against corrupt and exploitative priests, and it was much more than a mere theological row. It was a far-reaching social movement that sought to return to the original sources of Christianity. It challenged the idea that divine authority should be mediated through institutions or hierarchies, and it denied the value of tradition. Instead it offered radical new notions of the supremacy of written texts (that is, the books of the Bible), interpreted by individual consciences. The Reformation made possible a religion that could be practiced privately, rather than mainly in a vast institutionalized community.

This move toward individualism, toward the privatization of religious belief, makes the spirit of the Reformation very attractive to educated people in the West. It stirs many liberal Catholic activists, who regard the aloof and arrogant hierarchy of the Church as not only an affront but something inherently corrupt. New concepts of governance sound exciting, even intoxicating, to reformers, and seem to mesh with likely social and technological trends. The invention of movable type and the printing press, in the fifteenth century, was a technological development that spurred mass literacy in the vernacular languages — and accelerated the forces of religious change. In the near future, many believe, the electronic media will have a comparably powerful impact on our ways of being religious. An ever greater reliance on individual choice, the argument goes, will help Catholicism to become much more inclusive and tolerant, less judgmental, and more willing to accept secular attitudes toward sexuality and gender roles. In the view of liberal Catholics, much of the current crisis derives directly from archaic if not primitive doctrines, including mandatory celibacy among the clergy, intolerance of homosexuality, and the prohibition of women from the priesthood, not to mention a more generalized fear of sexuality. In their view, anyone should be able to see that the idea that God, the creator and lord of the universe, is concerned about human sexuality is on its way out.

If we look beyond the liberal West, we see that another Christian revolution, quite different from the one being called for in affluent American suburbs and upscale urban parishes, is already in progress. Worldwide, Christianity is actually moving toward supernaturalism and neo-orthodoxy, and in many ways toward the ancient world view expressed in the New Testament: a vision of Jesus as the embodiment of divine power, who overcomes the evil forces that inflict calamity and sickness upon the human race. In the global South (the areas that we often think of primarily as the Third World) huge and growing Christian populations — currently 480 million in Latin America, 360 million in Africa, and 313 million in Asia, compared with 260 million in North America — now make up what the Catholic scholar Walbert Buhlmann has called the Third Church, a form of Christianity as distinct as Protestantism or Orthodoxy, and one that is likely to become dominant in the faith. The revolution taking place in Africa, Asia, and Latin America is far more sweeping in its implications than any current shifts in North American religion, whether Catholic or Protestant. There is increasing tension between what one might call a liberal Northern Reformation and the surging Southern religious revolution, which one might equate with the Counter-Reformation, the internal Catholic reforms that took place at the same time as the Reformation — although in references to the past and the present the term "Counter-Reformation" misleadingly implies a simple reaction instead of a social and spiritual explosion. No matter what the terminology, however, an enormous rift seems inevitable.

Although Northern governments are still struggling to come to terms with the notion that Islam might provide a powerful and threatening supranational ideology, few seem to realize the potential political role of ascendant Southern Christianity. The religious rift between Northern and Southern Europe in the sixteenth century suggests just how dramatic the political consequences of a North-South divide in the contemporary Christian world might be. The Reformation led to nothing less than the creation of the modern European states and the international order we recognize today. For more than a century Europe was rent by sectarian wars between Protestants and Catholics, which by the 1680s had ended in stalemate. Out of this impasse, this failure to impose a monolithic religious order across the Continent, there arose such fundamental ideas of modern society as the state's obligation to tolerate minorities and the need to justify political authority without constantly invoking God and religion. The Enlightenment — and, indeed, Western modernity — could have occurred only as a consequence of the clash, military and ideological, between Protestants and Catholics.

Today across the global South a rising religious fervor is coinciding with declining autonomy for nation-states, making useful an analogy with the medieval concept of Christendom — the Res Publica Christiana — as an overarching source of unity and a focus of loyalty transcending mere kingdoms or empires. Kingdoms might last for only a century or two before being supplanted by new states or dynasties, but rational people knew that Christendom simply endured. The laws of individual nations lasted only as long as the nations themselves; Christendom offered a higher set of standards and mores that could claim to be universal. Christendom was a primary cultural reference, and it may well re-emerge as such in the Christian South — as a new transnational order in which political, social, and personal identities are defined chiefly by religious loyalties.

The first Reformation was a lot less straightforward than some histories suggest. The sixteenth-century Catholic Church, after all, did not collapse after Luther kicked in the door. The Counter-Reformation was moving in a diametrically opposite direction, reasserting older forms of devotion and tradition, and reformulating the Church's controversial claims for hierarchy and spiritual authority. The Counter-Reformation was not just survivalist and defensive, as is commonly assumed; it was also innovative and dynamic. For at least a century after Luther's Reformation, in fact, the true political, cultural, and social centers of Europe were as much in the Catholic South as in the Protestant North. The Catholic states — Spain, Portugal, and France — were launching missionary ventures into Africa, Asia, North and South America. By the 1570s Catholic missionaries were creating a transoceanic Church structure: the see of Manila was an offshoot of the archdiocese of Mexico City.

By about 1600 the Catholic Church had become the first religious body — indeed, the first institution of any sort — to operate on a global scale. Even in the Protestant heartlands of Northern and Western Europe — England, Sweden, and the German lands — the heirs of the Reformation had to spend many years discouraging their people from succumbing to the attractions of Catholicism. Conversions to Catholicism were steady throughout the century or so after 1580. It looked as if the Reformation had effectively cut Protestant Europe off from the mainstream of the Christian world. Only in the eighteenth century would Protestantism find a secure and then strategically preponderant place on the global stage, through the success of booming commercial states such as England and the Netherlands, whose political triumphs ultimately contained and in some cases pushed back the earlier empires.

The changes that Catholic and other reformers today are trying to inspire in North America and Europe (and that seem essential if Christianity is to be preserved as a modern, relevant force on those continents) run utterly contrary to the dominant cultural movements in the rest of the Christian world, which look very much like the Counter-Reformation. But this century is unlike the sixteenth in that we are not facing a roughly equal division of Christendom between two competing groups. Rather, Christians are facing a shrinking population in the liberal West and a growing majority of the traditional Rest. During the past half century the critical centers of the Christian world have moved decisively to Africa, to Latin America, and to Asia. The balance will never shift back.

The growth in Africa has been relentless. In 1900 Africa had just 10 million Christians out of a continental population of 107 million — about nine percent. Today the Christian total stands at 360 million out of 784 million, or 46 percent. And that percentage is likely to continue rising, because Christian African countries have some of the world's most dramatic rates of population growth. Meanwhile, the advanced industrial countries are experiencing a dramatic birth dearth. Within the next twenty-five years the population of the world's Christians is expected to grow to 2.6 billion (making Christianity by far the world's largest faith). By 2025, 50 percent of the Christian population will be in Africa and Latin America, and another 17 percent will be in Asia. Those proportions will grow steadily. By about 2050 the United States will still have the largest single contingent of Christians, but all the other leading nations will be Southern: Mexico, Brazil, Nigeria, the Democratic Republic of the Congo, Ethiopia, and the Philippines. By then the proportion of non-Latino whites among the world's Christians will have fallen to perhaps one in five.

The population shift is even more marked in the specifically Catholic world, where Euro-Americans are already in the minority. Africa had about 16 million Catholics in the early 1950s; it has 120 million today, and is expected to have 228 million by 2025. The World Christian Encyclopedia suggests that by 2025 almost three quarters of all Catholics will be found in Africa, Asia, and Latin America. The likely map of twenty-first-century Catholicism represents an unmistakable legacy of the Counter-Reformation and its global missionary ventures.

These figures actually understate the Southern predominance within Catholicism, and within world Christianity more generally, because they fail to take account of Southern emigrants to Europe and North America. Even as this migration continues, established white communities in Europe are declining demographically, and their religious beliefs and practices are moving further away from traditional Christian roots. The result is that skins of other hues are increasingly evident in European churches; half of all London churchgoers are now black. African and West Indian churches in Britain are reaching out to whites, though members complain that their religion is often seen as "a black thing" rather than "a God thing."

In the United States a growing proportion of Roman Catholics are Latinos, who should represent a quarter of the nation by 2050 or so. Asian communities in the United States have sizable Catholic populations. Current trends suggest that the religious values of Catholics with a Southern ethnic and cultural heritage will long remain quite distinct from those of other U.S. populations. In terms of liturgy and worship Latino Catholics are strikingly different from Anglo believers, not least in maintaining a fervent devotion to the Virgin Mary and the saints.

European and Euro-American Catholics will within a few decades be a smaller and smaller fragment of a worldwide Church. Of the 18 million Catholic baptisms recorded in 1998, eight million took place in Central and South America, three million in Africa, and just under three million in Asia. (In other words, these three regions already account for more than three quarters of all Catholic baptisms.) The annual baptism total for the Philippines is higher than the totals for Italy, France, Spain, and Poland combined. The number of Filipino Catholics could grow to 90 million by 2025, and perhaps to 130 million by 2050.

The demographic changes within Christianity have many implications for theology and religious practice, and for global society and politics. The most significant point is that in terms of both theology and moral teaching, Southern Christianity is more conservative than the Northern — especially the American — version. Northern reformers, even if otherwise sympathetic to the indigenous cultures of non-Northern peoples, obviously do not like this fact. The liberal Catholic writer James Carroll has complained that "world Christianity [is falling] increasingly under the sway of anti-intellectual fundamentalism." But the cultural pressures may be hard to resist.

The denominations that are triumphing across the global South — radical Protestant sects, either evangelical or Pentecostal, and Roman Catholicism of an orthodox kind — are stalwartly traditional or even reactionary by the standards of the economically advanced nations. The Catholic faith that is rising rapidly in Africa and Asia looks very much like a pre-Vatican II faith, being more traditional in its respect for the power of bishops and priests and in its preference for older devotions. African Catholicism in particular is far more comfortable with notions of authority and spiritual charisma than with newer ideas of consultation and democracy.

This kind of faith is personified by Nigeria's Francis Cardinal Arinze, who is sometimes touted as a future Pope. He is sharp and articulate, with an attractively self-deprecating style, and he has served as the president of the Pontifical Council for Inter-Religious Dialogue, which has given him invaluable experience in talking with Muslims, Hindus, Jews, and members of other faiths. By liberal Northern standards, however, Arinze is rigidly conservative, and even repressive on matters such as academic freedom and the need for strict orthodoxy. In his theology as much as his social views he is a loyal follower of Pope John Paul II. Anyone less promising for Northern notions of reform is difficult to imagine.

Meanwhile, a full-scale Reformation is taking place among Pentecostal Christians — whose ideas are shared by many Catholics. Pentecostal believers reject tradition and hierarchy, but they also rely on direct spiritual revelation to supplement or replace biblical authority. And it is Pentecostals who stand in the vanguard of the Southern Counter-Reformation. Though Pentecostalism emerged as a movement only at the start of the twentieth century, chiefly in North America, Pentecostals today are at least 400 million strong, and heavily concentrated in the global South. By 2040 or so there could be as many as a billion, at which point Pentecostal Christians alone will far outnumber the world's Buddhists and will enjoy rough numerical parity with the world's Hindus.

The booming Pentecostal churches of Africa, Asia, and Latin America are thoroughly committed to re-creating their version of an idealized early Christianity (often described as the restoration of "primitive" Christianity). The most successful Southern churches preach a deep personal faith, communal orthodoxy, mysticism, and puritanism, all founded on obedience to spiritual authority, from whatever source it is believed to stem. Pentecostals — and their Catholic counterparts — preach messages that may appear simplistically charismatic, visionary, and apocalyptic to a Northern liberal. For them prophecy is an everyday reality, and many independent denominations trace their foundation to direct prophetic authority. Scholars of religion customarily speak of these proliferating congregations simply as the "prophetic churches."

Of course, American reformers also dream of a restored early Church; but whereas Americans imagine a Church freed from hierarchy, superstition, and dogma, Southerners look back to one filled with spiritual power and able to exorcise the demonic forces that cause sickness and poverty. And yes, "demonic" is the word. The most successful Southern churches today speak openly of spiritual healing and exorcism. One controversial sect in the process of developing an international following is the Brazilian-based Universal Church of the Kingdom of God, which claims to offer "strong prayer to destroy witchcraft, demon possession, bad luck, bad dreams, all spiritual problems," and promises that members will gain "prosperity and financial breakthrough." The Cherubim and Seraphim movement of West Africa claims to have "conscious knowledge of the evil spirits which sow the seeds of discomfort, set afloat ill-luck, diseases, induce barrenness, sterility and the like."

Americans and Europeans usually associate such religious ideas with primitive and rural conditions, and assume that the older world view will disappear with the coming of modernization and urbanization. In the contemporary South, however, the success of highly supernatural churches should rather be seen as a direct by-product of urbanization. (This should come as no surprise to Americans; look at the Pentecostal storefronts in America's inner cities.) As predominantly rural societies have become more urban over the past thirty or forty years, millions of migrants have been attracted to ever larger urban areas, which lack the resources and the infrastructure to meet the needs of these wanderers. Sometimes people travel to cities within the same nation, but often they find themselves in different countries and cultures, suffering a still greater sense of estrangement. In such settings religious communities emerge to provide health, welfare, and education.

This sort of alternative social system, which played an enormous role in the earliest days of Christianity, has been a potent means of winning mass support for the most committed religious groups and is likely to grow in importance as the gap between people's needs and government's capacities to fill them becomes wider. Looking at the success of Christianity in the Roman Empire, the historian Peter Brown has written, "The Christian community suddenly came to appeal to men who felt deserted ... Plainly, to be a Christian in 250 brought more protection from one's fellows than to be a civis Romanus." Being a member of an active Christian church today may well bring more tangible benefits than being a mere citizen of Nigeria or Peru.

Often the new churches gain support because of the way they deal with the demons of oppression and want: they interpret the horrors of everyday urban life in supernatural terms. In many cases these churches seek to prove their spiritual powers in struggles against witchcraft. The intensity of belief in witchcraft across much of Africa can be startling. As recently as last year at least 1,000 alleged witches were hacked to death in a single "purge" in the Democratic Republic of the Congo. Far from declining with urbanization, fear of witches has intensified. Since the collapse of South Africa's apartheid regime, in 1994, witchcraft has emerged as a primary social fear in Soweto, with its three million impoverished residents.

The desperate public-health situation in the booming mega-cities of the South goes far toward explaining the emphasis of the new churches on healing mind and body. In Africa in the early twentieth century an explosion of Christian healing movements and new prophets coincided with a dreadful series of epidemics, and the religious upsurge of those years was in part a quest for bodily health. Today African churches stand or fall by their success in healing, and elaborate rituals have formed around healing practices (though church members disagree on whether believers should rely entirely on spiritual assistance). The same interest in spiritual healing is found in what were once the mission churches — bodies such as the Anglicans and the Lutherans. Nowhere in the global South do the various spiritual healers find serious competition from modern scientific medicine: it is simply beyond the reach of most of the poor.

Disease, exploitation, pollution, drink, drugs, and violence, taken together, can account for why people might easily accept that they are under siege from demonic forces, and that only divine intervention can save them. Even radical liberation theologians use apocalyptic language on occasion. When a Northerner asks, in effect, where the Southern churches are getting such ideas, the answer is not hard to find: they're getting them from the Bible. Southern Christians are reading the New Testament and taking it very seriously; in it they see the power of Jesus fundamentally expressed through his confrontations with demonic powers, particularly those causing sickness and insanity. "Go back and report to John what you hear and see," Jesus says in the Gospel according to Matthew (11: 4-5). "The blind receive sight, the lame walk, those who have leprosy are cured, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the good news is preached to the poor." For the past two hundred years Northern liberals have employed various nonliteral interpretations of these healing passages — perhaps Jesus had a good sense of the causes and treatment of psychosomatic ailments? But that is not, of course, how such scenes are understood within the Third Church.

Today, as in the early sixteenth century, a literal interpretation of the Bible can be tremendously appealing. To quote a modern-day follower of the African prophet Johane Masowe, cited in Elizabeth Isichei's A History of Christianity in Africa, "When we were in these synagogues [the European churches], we used to read about the works of Jesus Christ ... cripples were made to walk and the dead were brought to life ... evil spirits driven out ... That was what was being done in Jerusalem. We Africans, however, who were being instructed by white people, never did anything like that ... We were taught to read the Bible, but we ourselves never did what the people of the Bible used to do."

Alongside the fast-growing churches have emerged apocalyptic and messianic movements that try to bring in the kingdom of God through armed violence. Some try to establish the thousand-year reign of Jesus Christ on earth, as prophesied in the Book of Revelation. This phenomenon would have been instantly familiar to Europeans 500 years ago, when the Anabaptists and other millenarian groups flourished. Perhaps the most traumatic event of the Reformation occurred in the German city of Münster in 1534-1535, when Anabaptist rebels established a radical social order that abolished property and monogamy; a homicidal king-messiah held dictatorial power until the forces of state authority conquered and annihilated the fanatics. Then as now, it was difficult to set bounds to religious enthusiasm.

Extremist Christian movements have appeared regularly across parts of Africa where the mechanisms of the state are weak. They include groups such as the Lumpa Church, in Zambia, and the terrifying Lord's Resistance Army (LRA), in Uganda. In 2000 more than a thousand people in another Ugandan sect, the Movement for the Restoration of the Ten Commandments of God, perished in an apparent mass suicide. In each case a group emerged from orthodox roots and then gravitated toward apocalyptic fanaticism. The Ten Commandments sect grew out of orthodox Catholicism. The Lumpa Church began, in the 1950s, with Alice Lenshina, a Presbyterian convert who claimed to receive divine visions urging her to fight witchcraft. She became the lenshina, or queen, of her new church, whose name, Lumpa, means "better than all others." The group attracted a hundred thousand followers, who formed a utopian community in order to await the Second Coming of Jesus Christ. Since it rejected worldly regimes to the point of refusing to pay taxes, the Lumpa became increasingly engaged in confrontations with the Zambian government, leading to open rebellion in the 1960s.

Another prophetic Alice appeared in Uganda during the chaotic civil wars that swept that country in the 1980s. Alice Lakwena was a former Catholic whose visions led her to establish the Holy Spirit Mobile Force, also pledged to fight witches. She refused to accept the national peace settlement established under President Yoweri Museveni, and engaged in a holy war against his regime. Holy Spirit soldiers, many of them children and young teenagers, were ritually anointed with butter on the understanding that it would make them bulletproof. When Lakwena's army was crushed, in 1991, most of her followers merged with the LRA, which is notorious for filling its ranks by abducting children. Atrocities committed by the group include mass murder, rape, and forced cannibalism. Today as in the sixteenth century, an absolute conviction that one is fighting for God's cause makes moot the laws of war.

The changing demographic balance between North and South helps to explain the current shape of world Catholicism, including the fact that the Church has been headed by Pope John Paul II. In the papal election of 1978 the Polish candidate won the support of Latin American cardinals, who were not prepared to accept yet another Western European. In turn, John Paul has recognized the growing Southern presence in the Church. Last year he elevated forty-four new cardinals, of whom eleven were Latin American, two Indian, and three African. The next time a papal election takes place, fifty-seven of the 135 cardinals eligible to vote, or more than 40 percent, will be from Southern nations. Early this century they will constitute a majority.

It may be true that from the liberal Northern perspective, pressure for a Reformation-style solution to critical problems in the Church — the crisis in clerical celibacy, the shortage of priests, the sense that the laity's concerns are ignored — seems overwhelming. Poll after poll in the United States and Europe indicates significant distrust of clerical authority and support for greater lay participation and women's equality. The obvious question in the parishes of the developed world seems to be how long the aloof hierarchy can stave off the forces of history.

From Rome, however, the picture looks different, as do the "natural" directions that history is going to take. The Roman church operates on a global scale and has done so for centuries. Long before the French and British governments had become aware of global politics — and well before their empires came into being — papal diplomats were thinking through their approaches to China, their policies in Peru, their views on African affairs, their stances on the issues facing Japan and Mexico. To adapt a popular activist slogan, the Catholic Church not only thinks globally, it acts globally. That approach is going to have weighty consequences. On present evidence, a Southern-dominated Catholic Church is likely to react traditionally to the issues that most concern American and European reformers: matters of theology and devotion, sexual ethics and gender roles, and, most fundamentally, issues of authority within the Church.

Neatly illustrating the cultural gulf that separates Northern and Southern churches is an incident involving Moses Tay, the Anglican archbishop of Southeast Asia, whose see is based in Singapore. In the early 1990s Tay traveled to Vancouver, where he encountered the totem poles that are a local tourist attraction. To him, they were idols possessed by evil spirits, and he concluded that they required handling by prayer and exorcism. This horrified the local Anglican Church, which was committed to building good relationships with local Native American communities, and which regarded exorcism as absurd superstition. The Canadians, like other good liberal Christians throughout the North, were long past dismissing alien religions as diabolically inspired. It's difficult not to feel some sympathy with the archbishop, however. He was quite correct to see the totems as authentic religious symbols, and considering the long history of Christian writing on exorcism and possession, he could also summon many precedents to support his position. On that occasion Tay personified the global Christian confrontation.

The cultural gap between Christians of the North and the South will increase rather than diminish in the coming decades, for reasons that recall Luther's time. During the early modern period Northern and Southern Europe were divided between the Protestantism of the word and the Catholicism of the senses — between a religious culture of preaching, hymns, and Bible reading, and one of statues, rituals, and processions. Today we might see as a parallel the impact of electronic technologies, which is being felt at very different rates in the Northern and Southern worlds. The new-media revolution is occurring in Europe, North America, and the Pacific Rim while other parts of the globe are focusing on — indeed, still catching up with — the traditional world of book learning. Northern communities will move to ever more decentralized and privatized forms of faith as Southerners maintain older ideals of community and traditional authority.

On moral issues, too, Southern churches are far out of step with liberal Northern churches. African and Latin American churches tend to be very conservative on issues such as homosexuality and abortion. Such disagreement can pose real political difficulties for churches that aspire to a global identity and that try to balance diverse opinions. At present this is scarcely an issue for the Roman Catholic Church, which at least officially preaches the same conservatism for all regions. If, however, Church officials in North America or Europe proclaimed a moral stance more in keeping with progressive secular values, they would be divided from the growing Catholic churches of the South by a de facto schism, if not a formal breach.

For thirty years Northern liberals have dreamed of a Third Vatican Council to complete the revolution launched by Pope John XXIII — one that would usher in a new age of ecclesiastical democracy and lay empowerment. It would be a bitter irony for the liberals if the council were convened but turned out to be a conservative, Southern-dominated affair that imposed moral and theological litmus tests intolerable to North Americans and Europeans — if, in other words, it tried to implement not a new Reformation but a new Counter-Reformation. (In that sense we would be witnessing not a new Wittenberg but, rather, a new Council of Trent — that is, a strongly traditional gathering that would restate the Church's older ideology and attempt to set it in stone for all future ages.) If a future Southern Pope struggled to impose a new vision of orthodoxy on America's Catholic bishops, universities, and seminaries, the result could well be an actual rather than a de facto schism.

The experience of the world's Anglicans and Episcopalians may foretell the direction of conflicts within the Roman Catholic Church. In the Anglican Communion, which is also torn by a global cultural conflict over issues of gender and sexuality, orthodox Southerners seek to re-evangelize a Euro-American world that they view as coming close to open heresy. This uncannily recalls the situation in sixteenth-century Europe, in which Counter-Reformation Catholics sent Jesuits and missionary priests to reconvert those regions that had fallen into Protestantism.

Anglicans in the North tend to be very liberal on homosexuality and the ordination of women. In recent years, however, liberal clerics have been appalled to find themselves outnumbered and regularly outvoted. In these votes the bishops of Africa and Asia have emerged as a rock-solid conservative bloc. The most ferocious battle to date occurred at the Lambeth World Conference in 1998, which adopted, over the objections of the liberal bishops, a forthright traditional statement proclaiming the impossibility of reconciling homosexual conduct with Christian ministry. As in the Roman Catholic Church, the predominance of Southerners at future events of this kind will only increase. Nigeria already has more practicing Anglicans than any other country, far more than Britain itself, and Uganda is not far behind. By mid-century the global total of Anglicans could approach 150 million, of whom only a small minority will be white Europeans or North Americans. The shifting balance with-in the church could become a critical issue very shortly, since the new Archbishop of Canterbury, Rowan Williams, is notably gay-friendly and has already ordained a practicing homosexual as a priest.

The Lambeth debate also initiated a series of events that Catholic reformers should study carefully. Briefly, American conservatives who were disenchanted with the liberal establishment in the U.S. Episcopal Church realized that they had powerful friends overseas, and transferred their religious allegiance to more-conservative authorities in the global South. Since 2000 some conservative American Episcopalians have traveled to Moses Tay's cathedral in Singapore, where they were consecrated as bishops by Asian and African Anglican prelates, including the Rwandan archbishop Emmanuel Kolini. By tradition an Anglican archbishop is free to ordain whomever he pleases within his province, so although the Americans live and work in South Carolina, Pennsylvania, and other states, they are now technically bishops within the province of Rwanda. They have become missionary bishops, charged with ministering to conservative congregations in the United States, where they support a dissident "virtual province" within the church. They and their conservative colleagues are now part of the Anglican Mission in America, which is intended officially to "lead the Episcopal Church back to its biblical foundations." The mission aims to restore traditional teachings and combat what it sees as the "manifest heresy" and even open apostasy of the U.S. Church leadership. Just this past summer Archbishop Kolini offered his protection to dissident Anglicans in the Vancouver area, who were rebelling against liberal proposals to allow same-sex couples to receive a formal Church blessing.

Ultimately, the first Christendom — the politicoreligious order that dominated Europe from the sixth century through the sixteenth — collapsed in the face of secular nationalism, under the overwhelming force of what Thomas Carlyle described as "the three great elements of modern civilization, gunpowder, printing, and the Protestant religion." Nation-states have dominated the world ever since. Today, however, the whole concept of national autonomy is under challenge, partly as a result of new technologies. In the coming decades, according to a recent CIA report, "Governments will have less and less control over flows of information, technology, diseases, migrants, arms, and financial transactions, whether licit or illicit, across their borders. The very concept of 'belonging' to a particular state will probably erode." If a once unquestionable construct like Great Britain is under threat, it is not surprising that people are questioning the existence of newer and more artificial entities in Africa and Asia.

For a quarter of a century social scientists analyzing the decline of the nation-state have drawn parallels between the world today and the politically fragmented yet cosmopolitan world of the Middle Ages. Some scholars have even predicted the emergence of some secular movement or ideology that would command loyalty across nations like the Christendom of old. Yet the more we look at the Southern Hemisphere, the more we see that although supranational ideas are flourishing, they are not in the least secular. The parallels to the Middle Ages may be closer than anyone has guessed.

Across the global South cardinals and bishops have become national moral leaders in a way essentially unseen in the West since the seventeenth century. The struggles of South African churches under apartheid spring to mind, but just as impressive were the pro-democracy campaigns of many churches and denominations elsewhere in Africa during the 1980s and 1990s. Prelates know that they are expected to speak for their people, even though if they speak boldly, they may well pay with their lives. Important and widely revered modern martyrs include Archbishop Luwum, of Uganda; Archbishop Munzihirwa, of Zaire; and Cardinal Biayenda, of Congo-Brazzaville.

As this sense of moral leadership grows, we might reasonably ask whether Christianity will also provide a guiding political ideology for much of the world. We might even imagine a new wave of Christian states, in which political life is inextricably bound up with religious belief. Zambia declared itself a Christian nation in 1991, and similar ideas have been bruited in Zimbabwe, Kenya, and Liberia. If this ideal does gain popularity, the Christian South will soon be dealing with some debates, of long standing in the North, over the proper relationship between Church and State and between rival churches under the law. Other inevitable questions involve tolerance and diversity, the relationship between majority and minority communities, and the extent to which religiously inspired laws can (or should) regulate private morality and behavior. These issues were all at the core of the Reformation.

Across the regions of the world that will be the most populous in the twenty-first century, vast religious contests are already in progress, though so far they have impinged little on Western opinion. The most significant conflict is in Nigeria, a nation that by rights should be a major regional power in this century and perhaps even a global power; but recent violence between Muslims and Christians raises the danger that Nigerian society might be brought to ruin by the clash of jihad and crusade. Muslims and Christians are at each other's throats in Indonesia, the Philippines, Sudan, and a growing number of other African nations; Hindu extremists persecute Christians in India. Demographic projections suggest that these feuds will simply worsen. Present-day battles in Africa and Asia may anticipate the political outlines to come, and the roots of future great-power alliances. These battles are analogous to the ideological conflicts of the twentieth century, the alternating hot and cold wars between advocates of fascism and of democracy, of socialism and of capitalism. This time, however, the competing ideologies are explicitly religious, promising their followers a literal rather than merely a metaphorical kingdom of God on earth.

Let us imagine Africa in the throes of fiery religious revivals, as Muslim and Christian states jostle for political influence. Demographic change alone could provoke more-aggressive international policies, as countries with swollen populations tried to appropriate living space or natural resources. But religious tensions could make the situation far worse. If mega-cities are not to implode through social unrest and riot, governments have to find some way to mobilize the teeming masses of unemployed teenagers and young adults. Persuading them to fight for God is a proven way of siphoning off internal tension, especially if the religion in question already has a powerful ideal of martyrdom. Liberia, Uganda, and Sierra Leone have given rise to ruthless militias ready to kill or die for whatever warlord directs them, often following some notionally religious imperative. In the 1980s the hard-line Shiite mullahs of Iran secured their authority by sending hundreds of thousands of young men to martyr themselves in human-wave assaults against the Iraqi front lines. In contemporary Indonesia, Islamist militias can readily find thousands of poor recruits to fight against the nation's Christian minorities.

Some of the likely winners in the religious economy of the new century are precisely those groups with a strongly apocalyptic mindset, in which the triumph of righteousness is associated with the vision of a world devastated by fire and plague. This could be a perilously convenient ideology for certain countries with weapons of mass destruction. (The candidates that come to mind include not only Iraq and Iran but also future regional powers such as Indonesia, Nigeria, the Congo, Uganda, and South Africa.) All this means that our political leaders and diplomats should pay at least as much attention to religions and sectarian frontiers as they ever have to the location of oil fields.

Perhaps the most remarkable point about these potential conflicts is that the trends pointing toward them have registered so little on the consciousness of even well-informed Northern observers. What, after all, do most Americans know about the distribution of Christians worldwide? I suspect that most see Christianity very much as it was a century ago — a predominantly European and North American faith. In discussions of the recent sexual-abuse crisis "the Catholic Church" and "the American Church" have been used more or less synonymously.

As the media have striven in recent years to present Islam in a more sympathetic light, they have tended to suggest that Islam, not Christianity, is the rising faith of Africa and Asia, the authentic or default religion of the world's huddled masses. But Christianity is not only surviving in the global South, it is enjoying a radical revival, a return to scriptural roots. We are living in revolutionary times.

But we aren't participating in them. By any reasonable assessment of numbers, the most significant transformation of Christianity in the world today is not the liberal Reformation that is so much desired in the North. It is the Counter-Reformation coming from the global South. And it's very likely that in a decade or two neither component of global Christianity will recognize its counterpart as fully or authentically Christian.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

Philip Jenkins. "The Next Christianity." The Atlantic Volume 290, No. 3 (October, 2002): 53-68.

This article is reprinted with permission from Philip Jenkins.

THE AUTHOR


Philip Jenkins is Distinguished Professor of History and Religious Studies at Pennsylvania State University. He is the author, most recently, of The New Anti-Catholicism: The Last Acceptable Prejudice (2003) and The Next Christendom: The Coming of Global Christianity (2002).


Copyright © 2002 by The Atlantic Monthly Group
 
^ You're not kidding. I think I will wait for the Coles Notes version.
 
"religous fundamentalism in the states ... recommend any books on the subject"

2003 and '04 saw a nearly comical deluge of books on this subject, the US's 'culture war', and the Bush administration flood bookstores in anticipation of the presidential election. Searching amazon.com for "religious right", for instance, brings up a long list or relevant and contemporary books presenting a variety of perspectives. The following are tinfoil-free works, imo, though keep in mind that with the religious right in the US, we actually are dealing with a very real conspiracy to seize power, so it's inherently a tinfoil-y subject. Btw, I am anything but an 'expert' on these matters, and any "interest" I have in this stuff is driven entirely by unwelcome recent socio-political events - I'm just a horrified bystander trying to keep abreast of it all...


"With God on Our Side: The Rise of the Religious right in America", by William Martin:

www.amazon.com/exec/obido...80-7080935


"Eternal Hostility: The Struggle Between Theocracy and Democracy", by Frederick Clarkson:

www.amazon.com/exec/obido...8&v=glance


"With God on Their Side: How Christian Fundamentalists Trampled Science, Policy, and Democracy in George W. Bush's White House", by Esther Kaplan:

www.amazon.com/exec/obido...80-7080935


"James Dobson's War on America", by Gil Alexander-Moegerle:

www.amazon.com/exec/obido...8&v=glance


Good websites with many relevant links:

www.theocracywatch.org/index.html (Cornell U.)

www.publiceye.org/


Useful overviews:

www.religioustolerance.org/reconstr.htm

www.publiceye.org/magazin...isre1.html

www.counterpunch.org/baker05122005.html


David Neiwert is one of the best writers in the US on the subject of the extreme right. His blog:

dneiwert.blogspot.com/

His best essay, "The Rise of Pseudo Fascism":

dneiwert.blogspot.com/The...ascism.pdf

One of his books:

www.amazon.com/exec/obido...ce&s=books


Plus, I recommend reading this site regularly if you don't already:

billmon.org/

This is the best political blog in the US, imo, and regularly features comments on the religious right.


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"and just in general how impressively the British handled the whole thing. Myself and my friends and family I was travelling with were very impressed and imagined what things would have been like if we were in America during a terrorist attack."

I've seen various comments similar to this one both on this board and elsewhere over the past few weeks, and feel compelled to point out a few things: First, the ensuing political response aside, 'Americans' did not actually react too badly to 911, all things considered. Naturally, the usual nutbars - and a whole lot of newly minted ones - immediately let loose with both barrels of incendiary rhetoric. But on the whole, immediate opinion regarding how to react and proceed was relatively tempered, cautious and sensible. It's not like the people were screaming for any and all Arab/Islamic heads in sight, and few were demanding something like the Patriot Act, let alone the eventual Iraq adventure. And keep in mind that the context in which the events occurred were quite different: 911 seemed to come out of left field for most people, whereas the London incidents were entirely predictable and were actually quite widely anticipated.

Much has been made lately of the level-headed, chin-up-ish response to the recent bombings in London, some portrayals of which seems to imply that your average New Yorker more or less freaked out and ran around hysterically on 911. This is false. I was in Chelsea on 911, and like millions of other people, made a long walk north through Manhattan in enormous crowds. The mood was one of somberness, shock, and nervousness, but all was quite calm and orderly - I saw no hysterics, no panic, no overreactions or negative events whatsoever. People were also gathered in pubs and whatnot to try to get news, like in London. But unlike in London, life could not just resume as normal right away, because of the far more severe disruption to the functioning of the city - and of the entire country - due to the events.

Which leads to another key point to keep in mind: despite being related and essentially similar, 911 and the recent London bombs are simply incomparable in other ways - the sheer scale, shock and horror of 911 was literally exponentially beyond the London events in all ways. It seems that there's a growing tendency to overlook the incredible and unprecedented extremity of 911, and to compare, if not equate, it and reaction to it to many other 'major' terrorist events. This is unfair, imo - yes, most terrorist incidents are essentially the same and have similar intents, but 911 really is unique at this point in its enormity, and sits in a class by itself.

So the point is: not only did your average New Yorker and American not overreact like an ass immediately after 911, but the event is simply not comparable, imo, to any prior or subsequent similar incident anywhere else as of yet. If a 911-level event took place in London, I believe the reaction would be very similar to that in the US. And it remains to be seen what the political results of the London bombings will be. This is a long way from being played out - over time we'll see how different, if at all, the sociopolitical results are in the UK vs. the US.

A final thought: I don't recall ever hearing any outpourings of admiration for the steely determination of Moroccans, Balinese, Kenyans, Tanzanians, Russians, Indians, Thais, Saudis, Iraqis, etc., to carry on resolutely with their lives following similar terrorist actions in those countries and elsewhere. Judging by media reaction, the English have a monopoly on carrying on competently and un-hysterically after such events. Please note that none of this is intended in any way as an 'attack' on the English, and I certainly don't mean to deny Londoners due sympathy - I intend only to draw attention to the fact that their reaction was hardly unique. I mean, can anyone provide an example of a population anywhere that didn't similarly carry on with their lives following such an event?
 
The documentary "The World According to George Bush" was great... sort of similar to the Micheal Moore one but touching on the religion in US politics issues. It was shown on "The Passionate Eye" a couple of times can be watched at the link below:

www.informationclearingho...eo1025.htm
 
Its only 54-55 paragraphs long.

In essence... southern christians (Catholic, Anglican, and Protestant) are more conservative than northern christians - including Americans. Talk of gay marriage, the ordination of women, the celibacy of the priesthood, a woman's right to choose, and other ostensibly "liberal" subject matter is incendiary in the global south - akin to apostasy if you will. However, in the north (including the United States) such subject matter is more acceptable and there is a significant religious constituency that is pushing the advancement of these issues. The constituencies in the north that promote these "liberal" issues are a sign that there is growing division within the christian church globally - Catholic, Anglican, and Protestant churches alike. Therefore, the theological divisions between northern and southern christians when combined with demographic shifts within christianity will cause a second reformation (of a sort?).
 
I look at it this way. Between 9/11 and the end of 2001, the USA was the most beautiful it had ever been. Thereafter, and ever since, it's been the ugliest it's ever been...
 

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