Europe and Islam

Erik Jones, Saskia van Genugten

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2018
• ISBN:
  9781317207245
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Politics & International Relations
• Subtopic: Politics
• Index: Politics & International Relations

This book provides an in depth analysis of the challenging relationship between Europe and Islam. The general chapters on secularism, security, identity and solidarity show the challenge of promoting a stable multi-cultural society. In depth analysis of France, Germany, Britain, the Netherlands, and Italy reveal the extent to which this challenge of stable multiculturalism differs from one country to the next. The argument that emerges is not that Europe and Islam are incompatible. Rather it is that reconciling the tensions that arise from the mixing of different cultures will require enormous patience, understanding, and investment. The contributors represent some of the leading voices in debates about European politics – and not just those focusing narrowly on the question of Islam. Hence this volume offers both a gateway to understanding the special relationship between Europe and the Muslim world and a means of tying that understanding to the future of European integration. This book was previously published as a special issue of The International Spectator.

Secularism and Islam: The Theological Predicament

Olivier Roy

Does the integration of Islam in Europe presuppose a prior ‘religious reformation’ that would make Islam compatible with so-called ‘European values’? The wave of religious revival that has touched the new generations of Muslims in Europe is not a return to traditional religious practices but, on the contrary, a recasting of religious norms and values in a European context. Fundamentalism means deculturation. What we are witnessing is a complex, and often tense, process of formatting Islam into a Western model of relationship between state, religion and society. But this process is taking place precisely at a time when Europe is not sure about its own identity: what does a ‘European Christian identity’ mean when churches are increasingly empty? Faith and culture have never been so disconnected.

Does the integration of Islam in Europe presuppose a prior ‘religious reformation’ that would make Islam compatible with so-called ‘European values’? And what are these European values? Are they Christian values or secular values? While all European constitutions and treaties stress the commitment towards ‘human rights’, ‘religious freedom’ and ‘democracy’, the status of ‘secularism’ is more complex. If we define secularism as the separation of state and religion, this is not the case in many European countries which grant a specific status to one or more recognised religions (for example, England, Italy and Germany). If secularism is taken to mean that the religious reference is more and more irrelevant in society, daily life and culture, accompanied by a decrease in individual religious practices, which is the case in all European countries, then Europe is certainly secular. But in this case, secular values conflict with Christian ones: issues like abortion, contraception and gay marriages are largely opposing ‘believers’ on one hand, and ‘non-believers’ on the other. How can we refer to the Christian roots of secular Europe if Europe’s values contradict the teachings of the Church?

Going beyond the debate on Christian identity, however, there is a large consensus that the huge Muslim population that has recently settled in Europe creates a specific challenge, because Islam may not be compatible with either the Christian identity of Europe or its secularism. The debate is framed indifferently in cultural terms (Western culture versus Oriental culture) or religious terms (Christian Europe versus Islam) as Islam is seen as an all-encompassing religion in which there is no distinction between politics, religion and culture. But such an approach, by essentializing Islam as a closed and atemporal system of thought, ignores the concrete practices of real Muslims and their interaction with a European society which is itself complex and often divided on many central issues.

This article intends to address the premises that more or less openly underlie the public policies of European governments and local authorities when dealing with the issue of ‘integrating’ Islam, either by making room for (authorising the building of mosques), or conversely, restraining Muslim religious practices (occasionally banning burqas and veils). Both attitudes, although in opposition, contribute to ‘formatting’ the religious practices of Muslims, which means adapting them to an environment in which culture does not play a mediating role between the individual believer and society. Traditional cultures are fading away among the new generations of immigrants who, by the way, are no longer migrants; nevertheless, they are in many instances experiencing a religious revival which entails a recasting of religious markers and norms disconnected from the pristine cultures. So the issue is clearly about ‘religion’ and less and less about culture. This is why multiculturalism is increasingly irrelevant, and why the issue is ever more associated with a debate on what makes up the theological core of Islam as a religion. This is what is referred to here as the ‘theological predicament’.

The vain essentialisation of Islam

An ongoing debate about Islam in Europe deals with the ‘compatibility’ of Islam with so-called European values: is Islam compatible with (take your pick)… democracy, secularism, human rights (more exactly women’s rights, gay rights, etc.). This is the theological predicament: the issue of integrating Muslims in Europe is supposed to be linked to an enquiry into the theological tenets of Islam as a religion. Either the Muslims present and promote a liberal interpretation of Islam, or their integration in Europe is conditioned on a prior theological reform that would make Islam compatible with (once more) so-called Western values. Such a view is also promoted by ‘liberal’ Muslims, like Irshad Manji, a Canadian journalist and essayist, while former Muslims turned atheist like Ayaan Hirsi Ali or Ibn Warraq are more pessimistic: they have doubts about the possibility of reforming Islam. The media regularly highlight the plight of some ‘moderate’ Muslim thinker who has to be promoted and encouraged in opposition to his fellow believers: in France, for instance, local imams like Soheib Ben Cheykh¹ in Marseille or Hassen Chalghoumi² in Seine-Saint-Denis are featured as lonely reformists coming under attack from fundamentalist groups. Irshad Manji has even been compared to Martin Luther.³ Some Muslim thinkers or leaders declare themselves to be the long awaited Muslim reformer that the West desperately needs: in a speech given in Great Britain, Tahir ul Qadri, leader of a Pakistani religious movement, presented himself as the first Muslim leader to have written the definitive fatwa against terrorism.⁴

This essentialist perception lies in the background of not only many stories reported by journalists (from polygamy and honour killings to terrorism) but also policies implemented by governments and administrations. Endless debates on “what does the Qur’an say?”, not to speak about “what does the Qur’an really say?” fill blogs and conferences.⁵ The debate about the burqa hinges on the same question: is the burqa nothing more than the fullest expression of a basic tenet of Islam (the seclusion of women) or is the burqa alien to the true spirit of Islam. In the end, all this means is that the burqa can be banned either because it is seen as an excessive but true expression of Islam, or because it is not an expression of Islam at all. But in both cases, the debate is about Islam, not about the personal and private decision of a given woman to wear the burqa.

However, this essentialist approach presents many legal and methodological hurdles that will be presented here. First of all, it challenges the separation of church and state and, paradoxically, the supposedly secular nature of the European state, because the state seems to consider interfering with religious creeds a duty. Second, it supposes that Europe’s political culture is based on a set of premises shared among Europeans, including Christian believers. Third, it sees Islam as a timeless set of norms and values that are inscribed in the mind of every Muslim, even non-believers, who in this case are ‘acted on’ by an Islamic ‘culture’, culture here being little more than ‘cold’ religion. Therefore, the issue is to ensure the compatibility of these norms with so-called Western values or their national sub-sets. Yet, this approach ignores the daily practices of the various believers who do not care about writing a new treatise of Islamic theology, but simply adapt their own practices to a different environment, recast norms in terms of values, and try to find a common paradigm of ‘faith’ and religiosity with believers of other faiths, while leaving the theological framework of Islam almost intact. Incidentally, one should be careful about advocating reformation in religion. Many people who dream about seeing the coming of a Muslim Martin Luther have never read Martin Luther (and would be appalled by the ‘(in)compatibility’ of his views with our Western values).

Reforming Islam through the state

Most public policies are driven by this ‘theological predicament’. To give just one example, it is the underlying rational for stressing the need to train ‘good’ imams. Even countries where the separation of church and state is enshrined in the constitution are desperately trying to organise the training of imams: the French government subsidizes a course at the Catholic Institute of Paris, after having tried to set up an efficient representative body that could undertake the training (the body, Conseil Français du Culte Musulman, exists but is not effective). In the German Land of North Rhine-Westphalia, the local authorities have themselves established the curriculum of religious courses for Islam in public schools. The British government subsidizes the Quilliam Foundation (which aims at “developing a Muslim identity at home in, and with the West” and, more boldly, “reprogramming British Muslims”).⁶ Another alternative is to grant recognition to branches of Islam that appear more ‘moderate’ than mainstream Sunnism: for instance, Alevism among the Turks in Germany. Sufism is regularly presented as more open than most orthodox schools. The issue is particularly important at the local level where mayors are confronted with requests from Islamic associations to allow the building of mosques; before granting the authorisation they usually endeavour to vet the association or its leaders to see if they are moderate.

But this interventionism runs against the very concept of religious freedom. Whatever the legal system in Europe, it is usually admitted that a modern democratic secular state should ensure freedom of religion and not interfere with religious practices as long as they do not infringe on others’ freedom or break the law.

Of course, this quest for moderate Muslims has regularly been justified after 9/11 by the fear of letting extremists take control of local mosques and have them recruit activists. But this legitimate fear of terrorism is also caught up in the ‘theological predicament’: the premise is that the more radical a believer is in his religious attitudes, the more radical he may become in his political activities. The issue is twofold: how can we define religious ‘extremism’? And what is the relation between religious extremism and political radicalism?

The only legal argument for the state to curb certain religious practices would be the existence of a connection between ‘religious practice’ and violence: the more you pray, the more prone you are to perpetrating terrorist acts. In France, Muslim employees vetted for security clearance at Paris Charles De Gaulle airport are routinely asked about the frequency of their mosque attendance. This feeling is so internalised that a regular argument to deny that a neighbour or relative has terrorist links is to stress his/her lack of religious observance.⁷

The only reason for which a secular state can contemplate prohibiting the public display of a specific religious practice is for public order, without making any statement about what a religion is or should be. To define what is normal and what is extreme in terms of religious practices is beyond the scope of the modern democratic state. Nevertheless, it is deeply entrenched in the minds and practices of many politicians and is also advocated by public opinion: even in liberal Great Britain, the majority of the population would support a ban on wearing the burqa in public.

But to what extent does radical religious thinking lead to violence or terrorism? Are burqa wearing women more prone to go for jihad? No data support the idea for instance that wearing a burqa is a first step to political violence: there are, interestingly enough, more and more women (most of them converts) joining Al Qaeda (Muriel Degauque, Malika Arroud), but none of them have been known to wear the burqa. By the same token, the Salafi ‘uniform’ (long white shalwar and qamis, white skull cap, etc.) is not in use among Al Qaeda activists. In fact, most studies show that strict religious practice is not a hallmark of Al Qaeda activists.⁸ This focus on the theological content of Islam and on religious observance is, in fact, a legacy of the European political culture and not of Islamic politics, culture or faith.

State and religion in Europe: a long history of violence and tensions

The debate on Islam does not come out of the blue: it is closely linked to the centuries-old debate on the role of religion in society and politics. If, confronted with Islam, the French stress the prevalence of secularism and the Italians the leading role of Christianity, it is not because they have a different view of Islam, it is because they have a different view of religion. The search for a ‘good Islam’ does not embody a struggle between a liberal and secular Europe versus a foreign and fundamentalist religion (Islam). It re-enacts an age-old struggle inside Europe on the role of religion. What is at stake here is not so much Islam’s compatibility with secularism as the definition, or more exactly the construction of secularism as a legal, cultural and political concept in the West.

If we look at history, neither secularism nor the separation of church and state is the product of European values based on the philosophy of the Enlightenment; rather, each is a political compromise, that may often have progressively turned into a consensus, to end religious wars. Such compromises have been established along national paradigms, which differ considerably from one European country to another. In fact, each European country has been able to achieve a stable compromise about the relationship between religion and politics after an initial period of violence and religious wars that lasted for centuries. Reformation in the early 16th century meant the breakdown of the religious unity of Europe. It entailed decades of religious wars, whose long-term effects can be observed well into the 20th century. The struggle was not between religion and tolerance, it was a struggle to make the state, religion and society coincide (cuius regio, eius religio). In essence, it is not secularism and tolerance that have shaped European political cultures, but wars of religion.

The 1648 Treaty of Westphalia established the modern nation state, which at first imposed the hegemonic role of a given religion. Secularism here just meant that the role of religion was defined by the political body, not that religion was pushed outside the public space. Until recently, freedom of religion in Europe meant freedom for religious minorities, more than an individual human right. These ‘religious minorities’ were dealt with under different paradigms: that of ‘toleration’, providing a lower status (Protestants in France in 1787, Catholics in Great Britain in 1827, Protestants in Spain in 1967 and, after the ban on minarets, Muslims in Switzerland) or of “protected minority under international treaties” (Alsatian Protestants in France after 1648, Crimean Tatars in Russia after 1787, Muslims in Greece under the Treaty of Lausanne in 1923). In some countries where no religion was dominant, equal legal recognition was bestowed upon a limited number of religious communities (Protestantism and Catholicism, in Germany and the Netherlands, for instance), but that does not mean equal treatment for any religion (Judaism is legally recognised as a religion in Germany, but not – yet – Islam). Therefore the difference between ‘great’ religions and ‘religious minorities’ is still at work even where no official religion is established.

Even the French laïcité does not consider all religions as equal although they are all supposed to belong to the private sphere: there is still a hierarchy of religions. The French Catholic Church has many privileges (churches built before 1905 are maintained by the local municipalities, official protocol puts the Catholic clergy in a higher position than other clergy in official ceremonies). Only four religions have the right to provide chaplains (Catholicism, Protestantism, Judaism and Islam⁹). And finally, the French Parliament has established a commission to curb ‘cults’, which means that the law was able to draw a line between ‘religions’ and ‘cults’ and thus define what a religion is. Religion is as much as ever a political issue.

Thus, far from being a history of slow and peaceful secularisation, relations between states and religions have always been conflictual in Europe and are a central part of European political cultures. This explains the fact that Europe has not just one, but several political cultures: there is little parallel between the definition of secularism in Germany, France and Italy, or between the role of the Catholic Church in Spain, Great Britain, Germany or the Netherlands.

The myth of Western values

The process of disentangling religion and culture among second generation Muslims in Europe is not acknowledged by the authorities, public opinion and media, but it is going on. In fact, proof of this ‘autonomisation’ of the religious factor is that the debate in most European countries is about religious symbols, not ethnic markers: veil, burqa, minarets, mosques and halal food. Nevertheless thes...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Half Title
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Table of Contents
• Citation Information
• Notes on Contributors
• Introduction
• 1.  Secularism and Islam: The Theological Predicament
• 2.  EU Foreign Policy and Political Islam: Towards a New Entente in the Post-Arab Spring Era?
• 3.  The French Debate on National Identity and the Sarkozy Presidency: A Retrospective
• 4.  Muslim Organisations and Intergenerational Change in Germany
• 5.  Muslims in Italy: The Need for an ‘Intesa’ with the Italian State
• 6.  The Netherlands and Islam: In Defence of Liberalism and Progress?
• 7.  Islam and Muslim Communities in the UK: Multiculturalism, Faith and Security
• 8.  Identity, Solidarity, and Islam in Europe
• Index