The new challenge for western liberal democracy

Liberalism smugly thought it had erased religion from the agenda, but faith is tenacious, says Jonathan Wright
Secularism, Religion and Multicultural Citizenship
EDITED BY GEOFFREY BRAHM LEVEY AND TARIQ MODOOD CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY PRESS, £17.99
There are many ways to chart the emergence of political liberalism. We can either see it is a pristine philosophical project, with pure origins and inevitable consequences, or we can think of it as a historical (but still welcome) accident: an improvised solution to the chaotic circumstances of the postReformation period.
I would always argue that we should take the second view. Liberal political orders – and attendant ideas like democracy, freedom of belief, and a distinction between the public and private spheres – didn’t fall from the sky. They were invented because western Europe was heartily tired of religious wars: they flourished over the subsequent centuries because, by and large, they allowed people of diverse opinions to get along with each other. Liberalism isn’t something to be worshipped as a shiny abstract principle that is self-evidently true. It is something that stands or falls according to its utility. As one of the contributors to this volume puts it, the legitimacy of liberal government derives from its ability to solve problems: it has a knack for damping down animosities between “mutually hostile religious or ideological communities”.
Until quite recently it was easy to suppose that one version of liberalism’s legacy was secure and that we were all sailing off towards a golden post-religious horizon. Secularism was all the rage and this made liberalism’s job much easier: if religious faith was in decline then the scope for religious squabbling would be greatly diminished. Needless to say, the good things about religion were conveniently overlooked in such a scheme.
This analysis has turned out to be bunkum. Religious faith is tenacious and it continues to influence many people’s attitudes towards politics. This is a good thing: it makes the cultural landscape much more interesting. It also means that one of the key tasks of political liberalism is as urgent as ever: it still has to provide an environment in which different faiths are respected but discouraged from lapsing into conflict.
There is one addition to this familiar picture, of course: Islam. In a period of sizeable Muslim immigration, and at a time when the West is becoming addicted to asinine outbursts against one of the world’s greatest faiths, western democracies face a host of new challenges. Liberalism once again has to demonstrate its ability to accommodate difference.
The book has two aims. First, it tries to provide a nuanced account of the rise of political liberalism and political secularism. To this end, the book ranges widely: from early modern Brandenburg-Prussia to the Danish cartoon debacle of 2005, via meditations on Indian political secularism and the centenary of France’s 1905 separation of church and state.
The book’s other objective is to explore the challenges posed by Islam, though we should try and remember that those challenges might just turn out to be opportunities for enrichment. There is much talk, as one of the book’s contributors puts it, of the “culturally unreasonable” demands of Muslim communities. Just think of all the op-ed pieces that denounce Islam for trying to ride roughshod over cherished legal principles and ethical assumptions. Mercifully, this book takes a more level-headed approach. It asks a series of important questions: are the claims and aspirations of western Muslims really all that different from those of other minority religions or ideological groups?
So far as fitting into the world of political liberalism is concerned, is Islam quantifiably different from other faith traditions? Most importantly of all, it probes the debates that are raging within western Islam. All too often, this subject is framed in terms of how the non-Muslim parts of the western world ought to react to the voicing of Islamic ideas. It is very pleasing to see an attempt to anatomise how Muslims themselves are negotiating difficult terrain.
Islam has always lacked a substantial voice in western politics. Muslims were the “others”. In Germany they were the exploited “guest workers” from Turkey; in France they were the frowned-upon, often ghettoised people from the Maghreb. In many ways matters began to improve during the last decade of the 20th century but then everything went wrong. September 11 happened and the West fell back on its predisposition to identify an ebullient but “different” religious tradition according to the deeds of a lunatic, unrepresentative minority. As one of the book’s editors, Tariq Modood, puts it, “there is an antiMuslim wind blowing across the European continent”. Regrettably, because most people prefer easy answers and stereotypes to sensible debate, the wind is going to blow for a very long time. One of the ways to calm the turbulent skies is to write and read books like this one.
Sooner or later Europe will have to accept the fact that its Islamic people are going to play a major role in its future. Sooner or later it will realise that this is a wonderful thing. Of course, there are all sorts of difficult issues to confront.
Often, it isn’t easy for someone of Islamic beliefs to plough their cultural acre in the West. Often, it isn’t easy for the rest of the West to decide how to respond to the goals and nostrums of its Islamic constituency.
The cheering thought is that good people on both sides are trying to carve out workable solutions. The better thought is that talk of “sides” is inappropriate and that such people are actually pursuing a common goal.
This excellent book reminds us that western liberal democracy (old, creaky, but still the best option available) will earn garlands or fall into disrepute according to how it confronts these new challenges.