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An Intellectual History of
Secularism
By GREGORY KAPLAN
Gregory
Kaplan is Anna Smith Fine Assistant Professor of Religious Studies at Rice
University. He directs the program on Jewish secularization, and teaches “Secularizing
Jewry/Judaizing Secularity” and other courses.
Until recently, a generic “theory of secularization” held sway. It was inspired
by Max Weber, who believed that in the wake of scientific and technical
achievement, religious values diminish. That was one prong of Weber’s
three-pronged theory; Weber also believed that once a society became
stratified, religion becomes cut off from other cultural activities, and that
in an individualistic society, religion becomes a private matter.
Weber’s theory has been questioned by scholars. But in at least one way, it’s
still useful. In theorizing secularization, Weber raises a deceptively complex
question: What do we mean when we talk about secularism? What do we mean, in
fact, by secular?
Most simply, the secular denotes an orientation toward this world, this
life. The secular is a status (of
life), just as secularization is a
process (in life) and secularism is
an ideology/attitude (towards life). Secular
describes the space in which religious values are negligible or neutralized; in
this space, religious differences in belief, practice, or feeling are
unimportant. In metaphysical terms, the secular naturalizes the supernatural;
in social terms, it humanizes the divine.
But that definition, broad as it may seem, is really just a starting point. It
remains debated, for instance, whether secularization is a process ensuing from religion or the opposite: a
reaction to, a rebellion against, religion. Put slightly differently, does
secularization enact a new era, or transfer old wine into new bottles?[i]
On the one hand, secularization could be seen to grow from the inaccessibility
of God in the Hebrew Bible or, more directly, Christian sources (Matthew 22:21,
Manicheans, Augustine’s civitas,
etc).[ii]
In this conception, secularization is the religious engagement of worldly
interests.
On the other hand, secularization could be said to incite (indeed, Francis
Bacon dubbed it the “Great Instauration”) a “rupture,” or a “break,” between
human interest and divine will, natural evidence and supernatural magic. In
this conception, secularization confirms or justifies the “self assertion” of
human being.[iii] Of course,
self-assertion risks taking on a new religious import, such as the deification
of the Romantic genius, or the Führerprinzip;
but that would not diminish the legitimacy of its struggle for expression, what
Jürgen Habermas names “the unfinished project of modernity.”[iv]
Can a “pure” secularism also be “Jewish”? That is, does the universal (secular) clash with the particular (Jewish)? Or can the two be compatible?
In fact, there is ample precedent for combining the two—in streams of Jewish
literature and history. Secular ideology could even draw on sources of the
tradition for its own image of the future. Has not the Exodus story come to
incite multiple acts of revolution? Did
not late biblical social prophets bring sacrifice outside the Temple, rendering
justice effectively pro-fane (before
the Temple)? Did not the Davidic Empire loosen Israel’s contingent dependence
on God’s will, leaving the Hebrews to make their own way, in part at least?[v] But, nevertheless, revolution, justice, and
empire also suggest a kind of rupture or disruption—a break in the continuum of
orders, mores, and territories.
Other parts of the Jewish religious tradition seem to contain, or subsume, the
secular. For instance, rabbinic culture in late antiquity itself commonly
situated the secular between the
sacred and the profane—or beyond that
very distinction. The period of chol
ha-moed is the duration of time that stands between the first and last days
of a multi-day holiday such as Passover, during which business proceeds as
usual for the weekday. That seems to contain the secular within the limits of
the sacred. By comparison, a lively argument in the ancient and contemporary literature
animates the discussion of whether the rabbinic category of lifnim mi-shurat ha-din means to extend
the spirit of the law beyond a “religious” application of the letter. In
Judaism, it would seem, "secular means that which is there to be
sanctified”—whether in time or out of time, locally or globally.[vi] Indeed, many scholars have underscored the
worldly preoccupations of rabbinic law and lore.
By the 18th century, "secular" meant any epoch breaking off the past
from the future in the present, redistributing authority, property, and purpose
in new configurations throughout the sciences, nation-states, and segmented,
industrialized societies (with burgeoning bourgeoisie and bureaucracy). Later
on, Jewish secularism advanced the social and symbolic over legal and
theological qualities. And so we have Heinrich Heine's 1823 plaint: "the
baptismal is the ticket of admission to European culture." Theology
concerns also became sublimated into economic concerns, according to Karl Marx,
who criticized both secular and religious Jews for trading (as he more or less
put it) God for money.
If much is debatable about secularism, one thing is clear: Jewish secularism
has many forms, many dimensions. Some
of its ideological proponents advised a public-private split personality, as in
J. Leib Gordon's 1862 verse: "Be a man in the streets and a Jew at
home." Middle Eastern Jewry varied geographically, but by mid-20th
century, Jews in Iran and Iraq were overwhelmingly secular. Before their
decimation, Central and Eastern European Jewry had concentrated political and
literary secularisms in urban Vienna, Prague, Odessa, and Warsaw. And Hanukah, celebrating a story of hope amidst
devastation, has become a popular Jewish holiday replete with secularized ceremonial trappings of
Christmas.
If we’ve failed to settle upon a single definition of secularism, it may be
because “secular” is less a word than a concept. Concepts are slippery; they
depend heavily on context; and contexts not only vary (as we’ve seen)—they also
evolve.
[i] See
Jean-Claude Monod, La querelle de la
secularization de Hegel à Blemenberg (J. Vrin, 2002), 23.
[ii] See Karl
Löwith, Meaning in History, and
Marcel Gauchet, The Disenchantment of the
World. Peter Berger writes, “the ‘disenchantment of the world’ begins in
the Old Testament” and its iconoclastic destruction of idols (Sacred Canopy, 107, 113).
[iii] Hans
Blumenberg, The Legitimacy of the Modern
Age.
[iv] Blumenberg,
Legitimacy 65. The study of Jewish historiography has
witnessed a parallel debate between those who claim that Jewish history is a
modern rupture from Jewish memory (e.g. Yosef Yerushalmi, Zakhor) and those who argue that history-writing itself derives
from apocalyptic writers’ calculating calendars (e.g. Amos Funkenstein, Perceptions of Jewish History).
[v] See Michael
Walzer, Exodus and Revolution; Israel
Knohl, The Sanctuary of Silence; Jon
Levenson, Sinai and Zion.
[vi] Thus given
the ample and abiding “resources with which Judaism confronts the olam ha-zeh” or the “saeculum,” Werblowsky adds, “after
centuries of seclusion … [the Jews] needed a re-entry into the larger ‘world’
but no discovery of it, let alone conversion to it.” R. J. Z. Werblowsky, Beyond Tradition and Modernity (The
Athlone Press, 1976), 40-60.
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